The Epistle Dedicatory.

office to the dead, to procure his Orphanes, Gura-
dians; without ambition either of self-profit, or fame:
only to keep the memory of so worthy a Friend and
Fellow alive, as was our Shakespeare, by humble
offer of his Playes, to your most Noble Patronage.
Wherein, as we have justly observed, no man to come
near your L. L. but with a kind of religious addreſs;
it hath been the height of our care, who are the Pre-
senters, to make the Present worthy of your H.H.
by the Perfection. But, there we must also crave our
abilities to be considered, my Lords. We cannot goe
beyond our own powers. Countrey hands reach forth
Milk, Cream, Fruits, or what they have: and many
Nations (we have heard) that had not Gummes and
Incense, obtained their requests with a leavened
Cake; It was no fault to approach their gods, by
what means they could: And the most, though mean-
est of things, are made precious, when they are dedica-
ted to Temples. In that name therefore, we most hum-
bly consecrate to your H.H. these remains of your
Servant Shakespeare; that what delight is in them,
may be ever your L. L. the reputation his, and the
faults ours, if any be committed by a pair so careful to
shew their gratitude both to the living, and the dead,
as is

Your Lordships most bounden

John Heminge,
Henry Condell.

To the great variety of Readers.

Rom the most able, to him that can but
spell. There you are number'd, We
had rather you were weigh'd. Espe
cially, when the fate of all Books de-
pends upon your capacities: and not of your
heads alone, but of your Purfes. VWell, it is
now publick, and you will stand for your privi-
ledges, we know: to read, and censure. Doe so,
but buy it first; that doth best commend a Book,
the Stationer fayes. Then, how odde foever your
brains be, or your wifdomes, make your filience
the fame, and spare not. Iudge your fix-penny
worth, your shillings worth, your five shillings
worth at a time, or higher, so you rife to the juft
rates, and welcome. But, whatever you do, Buy,
Censure will not drive a Trade, nor make the
Jack goe. And though you be a Magiftrate of
Wit, and fit on the Stage at Black-Fryers, or
the Cock-pit, to arraign Playes daily, know, these
Playes have had their trial already, and ftood out
all Appeals; and do now come forth quitted ra-
ther by a Decree of Court, then any purchas'd
Letters of Commendation.

It had been a thing, we confeſſe, worthy to
have been wiſhed, that the Author himſelf had
liv'd to have fet forth, and overſeen his own
Writings; But ſince it hath been ordain'd other-

wife

wife, and he by death departed from that right,
we pray you do not envy his Friends, the office
of their care, and pain, to have collected and
publish'd them; & so to have publish'd them, as
where (before) you were abus'd with divers
stoln, and surreptitious Copies, maimed and de-
formed by the frauds & stealths of injurious Im-
postors, that expos'd them: even those, are now
offer'd to your view cured, and perfect of their
limbs; and all the rest, absolute in their numbers
as he conceived them. Who, as he was a happy
imitator of Nature, was a most gentle expreſſer
of it. His mind and hand went together: And
what he thought, he uttered with that easiſes,
that we have scarce received from him a blot in
his Papers. But it is not our Province, who only
gather his Works, and give them you to praisè
him. It is yours that read him. And there we
hope, to your divers capacities, you will find e-
nough, both to draw, and hold you: for his wit
can no more lie hid, then it could be loſt. Read
him, therefore; and again, & again: And if then
you do not like him, surely you are in some ma-
nifeſt danger, not to understand him. And so we
leave you to other of his Friends, who, if you
need, can be your guides: if you need them not,
you can lead your ſelves, and others. And ſuch
Readers we wish him.

J. Heminge. H. Condell.

Upon the Effigies of my worthy Friend, the Authe
thour Mr. W. Shakespeare, and his Works.

Peclator, this Lifes Shadow is; to see
The truer Image and a livelier he
Turn Reader. But, observe his Comick vain,
Laugh, and proceed next to a Tragick strain,
Then weep; So when thou find'st two contraries,
Two different passions from thy rapt soul rife,
Say, (who alone effect such wonders could)
Rare Shakespeare to the life thou dost behold.

To the Memory of Mr. W. Shakespeare.

We wonder (Shakespeare) that thou went'st so
soon
From the V Worlds-Stage, to the Graves-Tyring-
room.

We thought thee dead, but this thy Printed worth,
Tells thy Spectators, that thou went'st but forth
To enter with applaufe. An Actors Art,
Can dye, and live, to act a fecond Part.
That's but an Exit of Mortality;
This, a Re-entrance to a Plaudite.

J. M.

To the Memory of my beloved the Authour
Mr. VVILLIAM SHAKESPEARE;
And what he hath left us.

TO draw no envy (Shakeſtpeare) on thy Name,
Am I, thus ample to thy Book, and Fame:
While I confefſe thy writings to be ſuch,
As neither Man, nor Muſe can prouſe too much.
Tis true, and all mens ſuffrage. But theſe wayes
Were not the paths I meant unto thy prouſe:
For ſeelieſt Ignorance on theſe may light,
Which, when it ſounds at beſt, but ecchoes right;
Or blind Aſſection, which doth ne're advance.
The truth, but gropes, and urgeth all by chance;
Or crafty malice, might pretend this prouſe,
And think to ruine, where it ſeem'd to rauſe.
Theſe are, as ſome infamous Baud, or Whore, [more?
Should prouſe a Matron. What could hurt her
But thou art proofe againstt them, and indeed
Above th'ill fortune of them, or the need.
I therefore will begin. Soul of the Age!
The appluſe! delight! the wonder of our Stage!
My Shakeſpeare rife; I will not lodgee the by
Chaucer, or Spenſer, or bid Beaumont lie
A little further, to make thee a room:
Thou art a Monument without a Tomb,
And art alive ſtill, while thy Book doth live,
And we have wits to read, and prouſe to give.

b 2

That

That I not mix thee so, my brain excuses;
I mean with great, but disproportion'd Muses:
For if I thought my judgement were of years,
I should commit thee surely with thy Peers,
And tell how far thou didst our Lily out-shine,
Or sporting Kid, or Marlow's mighty Line.
And though thou hadst small Latine & les Greek,
From thence to honour thee, I would not seek
For names; but call forth thund'ring Æschylus,
Euripides, and Sophocles to us,
Paccuvius, Accius, him of Cordova dead,
To live again, to hear thy Buskin tread,
And shake a Stage: Or, when thy Socks were on,
Leave thee alone for the comparison
Of all, that insolent Greece, or haughty Rome
Sent forth, or since did from their ashes come.
Triumph, my Britain, thou hast one to show,
To whom all Scenes of Europe homage owe.
He was not of an age, but for all time!
And all the Muses, still were in their prime,
When like Apollo he came forth to warm
Our ears, or like a Mercury to charm!
Nature her self was proud of his defignes,
And joy'd to wear the dressing of his Lines!
Which were so richly spun, and woven so fit,
As, since, she will vouchsafe no other wit.
The merry Greek, tart Arisophanes,
Neat Terence, witty Plautus, now not please;

But

But antiquated, and deferted lie
As they were not of Natures family.
Yet must I not give Nature all: Thy Art,
My gentle Shakespeare must enjoy a part.
For though the Poet's matter Nature be,
His Art doth give the Fashion. And, that he,
Who cafts to write a living line, must sweat,
(Such as thine are) and strike the second heat
Upon the Muses Anvile: turn the same,
(And himself with it) that he thinks to frame;
Or for the Lawrel, he may gain a scorn,
For a good Poet's made, as well as born.
And such wert thou. Look how the Fathers face
Lives in his Issue, even so the race
Of Shakeſpear's mind, and manners brightly shines
In his well torned, and true filed lines:
In each of which, he seems to shake a Lance,
As brandish't at the eyes of Ignorance.
Sweet Swan of Avon! what a fight it were
To see thee in our water yet appear,
And make those flights upon the Banks of Thames,
That so did take Eliza, and our Iames!
But stay, I see thee in the Hemisphere
Advanc'd, and made a Constellation there!
Shine forth, thou Starre of Poets, and with rage,
Or influence, chide, or chear the drooping Stage,
Which, since thy flight from hence, hath mourn'd like
And deſpairs day, but for thy Volumes light.[night,

b 3

BEN. JOHNSON.

On worthy Mr. SHAKESPEARE,
and his Poems.

A
Mind reflecting ages past, whole clear
And equal surface can make things appear
Distant a thousand years, and represent
 Them in their lively colours just extent.
To out-run hasty Time, retrieve the Fates,
Rowle back the Heavens, blow ope the Iron Gates
Of Death and Lethe, where (confused) lie
Great heaps of ruinous Mortality.
In that deep duskie dungeon to discern
A Royal Ghost from Churles; By art to learn
The Physiognomie of shades, and give
Them fuddain birth, wondring how oft they live.
What story coldly tells, what Poets fain
At second hand, and picture without brain
Senilefle and foulelefle shows. To give a Stage
(Ample and true with life) voice, action, age,
As Plato's year, and new Scene of the world
 Them unto us, or us to them had hurl'd.
To raife our ancient Soveraignes from their Herfe
Make Kings his Subjects, by exchanging verse
Enlive their pale trunks, that the present age
Foyes in their joy, and trembles at their rage.
Yet so to temper passion, that our ears
Take pleasure in their pain; And eyes in tears
Both weep and smile, fearful at plots so sad,

Then

Then laughing at our fear; abus'd, and glad
To be abus'd, affected with that *truth*
WVhich we perceive is *false*; pleas'd in that ruth
At which we start; and by elaborate play
Tortur'd and tickled; by a crab-like way
Time past made paſttime, and in ugly fort
Difſorging up his ravaine for our ſport------

----VVhile the *Plebeian* Imp from lofty throne,
Creates and rules a *world*, and works upon
Mankind by ſecret engines; Now to move
A chilling *pity*, then a rigorous *love*:
To ſtrike up and ſtroak down, both *joy* and *ire*;
To ſteer th' affections; and by heavenly fire
Mould us anew. Stoln from our ſelves------

This and much more which cannot be expreſt,
But by *himself*, his tongue and his own breſt, [brain
WAs *Shakeſpeares* freehold, which his cunning
Improv'd by favour of the *nine-fold train*.
The Buskin'd *Muse*, the Comick *Queen*, the grand
And lowder *tone* of *Clio*; nimble hand,
And nimbler foot of the melodious *pair*,
The Silver voiced *Lady*; the moſt fair
*Calliope*, whose ſpeaking filence daunts.
And she whose praife the *heavenly* body chaunts.

These jointly woo'd him, envying one another
(Obey'd by all as *Spouse*, but lov'd as *brother*)
And wrought a curious robe of ſable grave,
Fresh green, and pleafant yellow, red moſt brave,

And

And conſtant blew, rich purple, guiltleſs white,
The lowly Ruffet, and the Scarlet bright;
Branch't and embroydered like the painted Spring
Each leafe match'd with a Flower, and each ſtring
Of golden wire, each line of filk; there run
*Italian* works whoſe thred the *Sifters* ſpun;
And there did ſing, or ſeem to ſing, the choice
Birds of a foreign note and various voice.
Here hangs a *moſsey* Rock; there playes a faire
But *chiding* *Fountain* purled: Not the *aire*,
Nor *Clouds*, nor *Thunder*, but were living drawn
Not out of common *Tiffany* or *Lawn*.
But fine materials, which the *Mufes* know
And onely know the Countries where they grow.

Now when they could no longer him enjoy
In mortal garments pent; Death may destroy
They ſay his body, but his Verſe shall live
And more then Nature takes, our hands shall give.
In a leſſe Volume, but more ſtrongly bound
[crown'd] Shakeſpeare shall breathe and ſpeak, with Laurel
Which never fades. Fed with Ambroſian meat
In a well-lined veſture rich and neat
[it,
So with this Robe they cloathe him, bid him wear
For time shall never ſtain, nor envy tear it.

The friendly admirer of his
Endowments,

J. M. S.

An EPITAPH

On the admirable Dramatick Poet,

WILLIAM SHAKESPEARE.

W hat need my *Shakespeare* for his honour'd bones,
The labour of an Age, in piled ftones,
Or that his hallow'd Reliques should be hid
Under a Starre-ypointing *Pyramid*?
Dear Son of *Memory*, great Heir of *Fame*,
VVhat need'ft thou fuch dull witneſle of thy
*Name*?

Thou in our wonder and aftonishment
Haſt built thy ſelf a laſting *Monument*:
For whil'ft to th'shame of flow-endeavouring
Art

Thy eafie numbers flow, and that each part,
Hath from the leaves of thy unvalued Book,
Thofe *Delphick* Lines with deep Impreffion
took

Then thou our fancy of her ſelf bereaving,
Doſt make us *Marble* with too much con-
ceiving,

And to *Sepulcher'* din ſuch pomp doſt lie,
That *Kings* for ſuch a *Tomb* would wish to die.

Upon the Lines and Life of the Famous Scenic
Poet Mr. VV. Shakespeare.

Hose hands, which you so clapt, goe now
and wring
You Britaines brave; for done are Shake-
 speares dayes:

His dayes are done, that made the dainty Playes,
VVhich made the Globe of Heav'n and Earth
to ring.

Dry'd is that Vein, dry'd is the Theſpian Spring,
Turn'd all to tears, and Phæbus Clouds his
Rayes:

That Corps, that Coffin now beſtick thoſe Bays,
VVhich crown'd him Poet firſt, then Poets King.
If Tragedies might any Prologue have,
All thoſe he made, would ſcarce make one to
this:

VVhere Fame, now that he gone is to the Grave,
(Deaths publick Tyring-houſe) the Nuncius is.
For though his Line of Life went ſoon about,
The Life yet of his Lines ſhall never out.

Hugh Holland.

A Catalogue of all the Comedies, Histories, and
Tragedies contained in this Book.

The Tempest. The life of King Henry 5.
The two Gentlemen of The first part of King
Verona. Henry the 6.

The Merry Wives, of The second part of King
Windsor. Henry the 6.

Meaure for Meaure. The third part of King
The Comedy of Errors. Henry the 6.

Much a do about Nothing
Loves Labour's loft.
The Tragedy of Richard
the 3.

Midsummer nights Dream
The Merchant of Venice. The famous Hiftory of
Henry the 8.

As you like it. Tragedies.

The taming of a Shrew. Troylus and Cressida.

All's well that ends well. The Tragedy of Coriolanus.

Twelfe night, or what you
The Vinters Tale. [will. Titus Andronicus.

Histories.

Romeo and Juliet.

Timon of Athens.

The life & death of K. Joh. The Tragedy of Jul. Cæs.

The life and death of King
Richard the 2. The Tragedy of Macbeth.
The Tragedy of Hamlet.

The life and death of King
Henry the 4. The Tragedy of K. Lear.
The Moor of Venice.

The second part of King
Anthony and Cleopatra.

Henry the 4. The Tragedy of Cymbeline.

THE
TEMPEST.

Actus Primus. Scena Prima.

A tempeſtuous noise of Thunder and Lightning heard:
Enter Ship-maſter, and a Botefwain.

Maſter.

Oce-fwain.

Botef. Here Maſter: What cheere ?

Maſt. Good: Speak to th' Mariners: fall too't, yarely, or we run our felves a-ground, beſtirre, beſtirre.

Exit.

Enter Mariners.

Botef. Hey my hearts, cheereely, cheereely my hearts: yare, yare: Take in the top-fail: Tend to th' Maſters whiftle: Blow till thou burſt thy wind, if room enough.

Enter Alonso, Sebastian, Antonio, Ferdinando, Gonzalo, and others.

Alou. Good Botef-wain have care : where's the Maſter? Play the men.

Botef. I pray now keepe below.

Anth. Where is the Maſter, Bofon ?

Botef. Doe you not hear him ? you marre our labour,
Keep your Cabins: you doe affift the storm.

Gonz. Nay, good be patient.

Botef. When the Sea is: hence, what cares thefe roars for the name of King ? to Cabine; ſilence: trouble us not.

Gonz. Good,yet remember whom thou haſt aboard.

Botef. None that I more love then my ſelf. You are a Counſellour, if you can command theſe Elements to ſi-lence, and work the peace of the preſent, we will not hand a rope more, uſe your authority: If you cannot, give thanks you have liv'd ſo long, and make your ſelf ready in your Cabine for the miſchance of the hour, if it ſo hap. Cheerely good hearts: out of our way I ſay.

Exit.

Gon. I have great comfort from this fellow: me thinks he hath no drowning mark upon him, his complexion is perſect Gallows: ſtand faſt good Fate to his hanging, make the rope of his deſtiny our Cable, for our own doth little advantage: If he be not born to be hang'd, our cafe is miſerable.

Exit.

Enter Botefwain.

Botef. Down with the top-Maſt: yare, lower, lower,
bring her to Try with Main-courte. A plague--------
A cry within. Enter Sebastian, Antonio & Gonzalo,
upon this howling: they are lowder then the weather,

or our office: yet again ? What do you here ? Shall we give o're and drown, have you a mind to ſink ?

Sebaf. A pox o' your throat, you bawling, blaſphemous, incharitable Dog.

Botef. Work you then.

Anth. Hang cur, hang,you whoreſon inſolent Noyſemaker; we are leſſe afraid to be drown'd then thou art.

Gonz. Ile warrant him for drowning, though the Ship were no ſtronger then a Nut-shell, and as leaky as an unſtanched wench.

Botef. Lay her a hold, a hold, let her two courses off to Sea again, lay her off.

Enter Mariners wet.

Mar. All loft, to prayers, to prayers, all loft.

Botef. What muſt our mouths be cold ?

Gon. The King, and Prince, at prayers,let's affiſt them,
for our cafe is as theirs.

Sebaf. I'm out of patience.

An. We are meery cheated of our lives by drunkards,
This wide-chopt-raſcall, would thou might't lie drown-
ing the waſhing of ten Tides.

Gonz. Hee I be hang'd yet,
Though every drop of water ſware againſt it,
And gape at wid'it to glut him. A confused noſſe within.
Mercy on us.

We ſplit, we ſplit, Farewell my wife, and children,
Farewell brother: we ſplit, we ſplit, we ſplit.

Anth. Let's all ſink with King.

Seb. Let's take leave of him.

Exit.

Gonz. Now would I give a thouſand furlongs of Sea
for an Acre of barren ground: Long heath, Brown
firrs, any thing; the wills above be done, but I would fain
die a dry death.

Scena Secunda.

Enter Prospero and Miranda.

Mira. If by your Art (my deareſt father) you have
Put the wild waters in this Rore; allay them:
The skie it ſeems would pour down ſtinking pitch,
But that the Sea, mounting to th'welkins cheek,
Dafhes the fire out. Oh ! I have ſuffered
With thofe that I ſaw ſuffer: A brave Vellel

A

(Who

The Tempeft.

3

Good wombes have born bad fons,

Pro. Now the condition.

This King of Naples being an Enemy
To me inveterate, hearkens my brothers fuit,
Which was, That he in lieu o'th'premifes,
Of homage, and I know not how much Tribute,
Should preventfully extirpate me and mine
Outof the Dukedome, and confer fair Millain
With all the honours, on my brother : Whereon
A treacherous Army levied, one mid-night
Fated to th' purpose, did Anthony open
The gates of Millain, and ith' dead of darkneſſe
The Minifters for th' purpose hurried thence
Me, and thy crying self.

Mir. Alack, for pity :

I not remembring how I cri'd out then

Will cry it o're again : it is a hint

That wrings mine eyes too't

Pro. Hear a little further,

And then I'll bring thee to the prefent buſineſſe
Which now's upon's without the which, this ſtory
Were moſt impertinent.

Mir. Wherefore did they not

That hour deſtroy us?

Pro. Well demanded, wench :

My tale provokes that queſtion : Dear, they darſt not,

So dear the love my people bore me : nor fet

A mark fo bloody on the buſineſſe ; but

With colours fairer, painted their foul ends.

In few, they hurried us aboard a Bark,

Bore us ſome Leagues to Sea, where they prepared

A rotten carkaſſe of a Butt, not rigg'd,

Nor tackle, nor fail, nor maſt, the very rats

Inſtinetely have quit it: There they hoſt us

To cry to th' Sea, that roar'd to us ; to ſigh

To th' Winds, whoſe pity fighting back again

Did us but loving wrong.

Mir. Alack, what trouble

Was I then to you ?

Pro. O, a Cherubin

Thou was't that did preferve me ; Thou didſt ſmile ;

Infused with a fortitude from heaven,

When I have deck't the Sea with drops full ſalt,

Under my burthen groan'd, which rais'd in me

An undergoing ſtomack, to bear up

Againſt what I should enſue.

Mir. How came we aſfore?

Pro. By providence divine,

Some food, we had, and ſome fresh water, that

A noble Neapolitan Gonzalo,

Out of his Charity, (who being then appointed

Maſter of this deſign) did give us, with

Rich garments, linnens, ſuffs, and neceſſaries

Which ſince have ſeeded much, ſo of his gentlenecſe

Knowing I lov'd my Books, he furniſh'd me

From mine own Library, with volumes, that

I prize above my Dukedome.

Mir. Would I might

But ever fee that man.

Pro. Now I arife,

Sit ſtill, and hear the laſt of our Sea-fellow :

Here in this Ifland we arriv'd, and here

Have I, thy School-maſter, made thee more profit

Then other Princeſſe can, that have more time

For vainer hours; and Tutors, not ſo careful.

Mir. Heavens thank you for't. And now I pray you Sir,

For ſtill 'tis beating in my mind ; your reaſon

For raſing this Sea-ſtorm ?

Pro. Know thus far forth,

By accident moſt ſtrange, bountiſtful Fortune

(Now my dear Lady) hath mine enemies

Brought to this ſhore: And by my preſcience

I find my Zenith doth depend upon

A moſt auſpicious ſtar, whoſe influence

If now I court not, but omit, my fortunes

Will ever after droop: Here ceaſe more queſtions,

Thou art inclin'd to ſleep: 'tis a good dulneſſe,

And give it way : I know thou canſt not chufe ;

Come away, Servant, come ; I am ready now,

Approach my Ariel. Come.

Enter Ariel.

Ari. All hail, great Maſter, grave Sir, hail I come

To anſwer thy beſt pleasure ; be it to fly,

To ſwim, to dive into the fire : to ride

On the curl'd cloudws : to thy ſtrong bidding, task

Ariel, and all his Quality.

Pro. Haſt thou, Spirit,

Perſon'd to point, the Tempeſt that I bad thee,

Ar. To every Article.

I boarded the Kings ſhip : now on the Beak,

Now in the Wafe, the Deck, in every Cabin,

I flam'd amazement, ſometimes I'd divide

And burn in many places ; on the top-maſt,

The Yards and Bore-ſprit, would I flame diſtinetly,

Then meet, and joyn. Joves Lightning, the precursors

O 'th dreadfull Thunder-claps more momentarie

And fight out-running were not ; the fire and cracks

Of ſulphurous roaring, the moſt mighty Neptune

Seem to beſiege, and make his bold waves tremble,

Yea, his dead Trident ſhake.

Pro. My brave Spirit,

Who was ſo firm, ſo conſtant, that this coyl

Would not inſect his reaſon ?

Ar. Not a foul

But felt a Feaver of the madde, and plaid

Some tricks of deſparation ; all but Mariners

Plung'd in the foaming bryne, and quit the veſſell ;

Then all a fire with me the Kings ſon Ferdinand

With hair up-ſtaring (then like reeds, not hair)

Was the firſt man that leapt ; cri'd hell is empty,

And all the Devils are here.

Pro. Why that's my ſpirit :

But was not this nigh ſhore ?

Ar. Cloſe by, my Maſter.

Pro. But are they (cAriel) ſafe ?

Ar. Not a hair perſhed :

On their ſuffaining garments not a blemiſh,

But freſher then before : and as thou badſt me,

In troops I haue diſpers'd them 'bout the Ile :

The Kings ſon have I landed by himſelf,

Whom I left cooling of the Aire with ſights,

In an odde Angle of the Ile, and fitting,

Hisarns in this ſad knot.

Pro. Of the Kings ſhip,

The Mariners, ſay how thou haſt diſpos'd,

And all the reſt o'th' Fleet ?

Ar. Safely in harbour

Is the Kings ſhip, in the deep Nook, where once

Thou call'd me up at midnight to fetch dew

From the ſtill-vest Bermoothes, there ſhee's hid ;

The Mariners all under hatches ſlowed,

Who, with a Charm joyn'd to their ſuffered labour

I have left aſleep : and for the reſt o'th' Fleet

Which

The Tempest.

4

(Which I dispers'd) they all have met again,
And are upon the Mediterranean Flote
Bound fadly home for Naples,
Suppofing that they faw the Kings ship wrackt,
And his great perfon perifh.

Pro. Ariel, thy charge

Exaetly is perform'd; but there's more work :
What is the time o'th' day ?

Ar. Paft the mid feafon.

Pro. At leaft two Glaffes: the time 'twixt fix and now
Muſt by us both be ſpent moſt preciouſly.

Ar. Is there more toyl ? Since thou didſt give me pains,
Let me remember thee what thou haſt promis'd,

Which is not yet perform'd me.

Pro. How now ? moodie ?

Which is't thou canſt demand ?

Ar. My Liberty.

Pro. Before the time be out ? no more :

Ar. I prethee,

Remember I have done thee worthy ſervice,
Told thee no lyes, made thee no miſtakings, ſerv'd
Without or grudge, or grumblings; thou didſt promife
To bate me a full year.

Pro. Doſt thou forget

From what a torment I did free thee? Ar. No.
Pro. Thou doſt: & thinkeſt it much to tread the Ooze
Of the ſalt deep;

To run upon the ſharp wind of the North,
To doe me buſineſſe in the veines o' th' earth
When it is bak'd with froſt.

Ar. I doe not Sir.

Pro. Thou lieſt, malignant Thing: haſt thou forgot
The fowl Witch Sycorax, who with Age and Envy
Was grown into a Hoop ? haſt thou forgot her ?

Ar. No Sir.

Pro. Thou haſt : where was the born? ſpeak : tell me :

Ar. Sir, in Argier.

Pro. Oh, was the ſo : I muſt

Once in a moneth recount what thou haſt bin,
Which thou forgetſt. This damn'd Witch Sycorax

For miſchiefs maniſold, and forceries terrible
To enter humane hearing, from Argier.

Thou knowſt it was banifh'd : for one thing the did

They would not take her life: Is not this true? Ar. I Sir.
Pro. This blew ey'd hags, was hither brought with
And here was left by th' Saylors; thou my ſlave, ( child,
As thou report'ſt thy ſelf, was then her ſervant,
And, for thou waſt a Spirit too delicate
To act her carthy and abhord commands,
Refuſing her grand heſts, the did confine thee,
By help of her more potent minifters,
And in her moſt unmittigable rage,
Into a cloven Pyne; within which rift
Imprifon'd, thou did'rt painfully remain
A dozen years : within which ſpace the di'd,
And left thee there : Where thou didſt vent thy groans
As ſaſt as Mill-wheels ſtrike : Then was this Inland
(Save for the Sun that he did littour here.
A frekeld whelp, hag-born) not honout'd with
A humane ſhape.

Ar. Yes: Caliban her fon.

Por. Dull thing, I ſay ſo: he, that Caliban
Whom now I keep in ſervice, thou beſt knowſt
What torment I did find thee in; thy groans
Did make Woolves howl, and penetrate the breasts
Of ever-angry Beares; it was a torment

To lay upon the damn'd, which Sycorax
Could not again undoe: it was mine Art,
When I arriv'd, and heard thee, that made gape
The Pyne, and let thee out.

Ar. I thank thee Mafter.

Pro. If thou more murmur't, I will rend an Oak
And peg thee in his knotty entrails, till
Thou haſt howl'd away twelve winters.

Ar. Pardon, Mafter.

I will be correfpontent to command
And doe my ſpriting gently.

Pro. Do ſo: and after two dayes
I will diſcharge thee.

Ar. That's my noble Mafter:

What ſhall I doe ? ſay what ? what ſhall I doe ?
Pro. Go make thy ſelf like to a Nymph o'th' Sea,
Be ſubject to no fight but thine, and mine : invisible
To every eye-ball elfe : go take this ſhape
And hither come in't : go : hence

With diligence.

Pro. Awake, dear heart awake, thou haſt ſlept well,
Awake.

Exit.

Mar, The ſtrangeneſſe of your ſtory, put

Heavineſſe in me.

Pro. Shake it off: Come on,

We'll viſit Caliban, my ſlave, who never
Yields us kind anſwer.

Mir. 'Tis a villain Sir, I doe not love to look on.

Pro. But as 'tis

We cannot miſſe him: he do's make our fire,
Fetch in our wood, and ſerves Offices
That profit us: What hoa : ſlave: Caliban :
Thou Earth thou : ſpeak.

Cal. within. There's wood enough within.

Pro. Come forth I ſay, there's other buſineſſe for thee:
Come thou Tortoys, when ? Enter Ariel like a water-
Fine apparition : my quaint Ariel, Nymph.
Heark in thine ear.

Ar. My Lord, it ſhall be done.

Exit.

Pro. Thou poſſonous ſlave, got by the Devil himſelf
Upon thy wick'd Dam; come forth. Enter Caliban.

Cal. As wick'd dew, as ere my Mother brufh'd
With Ravens feather from unwholſome Fen,

Drop on you both : A South-weſt blow on yee,
And blifter you all o're.

Pro. For this be ſure, to night thou ſhalt have cramps,
Side-flitches, that ſhall pen thy breath up, Urchins
Shall for that vaſt of night, that they may work
All exercife on thee: thou haſt be pinch'd
As thick as honny-combe, each pinch more ſtinging
Then Bees that made'em.

Gal. I muſt eat my dinner :

This Inland's mine by Sycorax my Mother,
Which thou tak'ſt from me : when thou cam'ſt firſt
Thou ſtroak'ſt me, & made much of me: would'ſt give me
Water with berries in't: and teach me how
To name the bigger Light, and how the leſſe,
Thatburn by day and night: and then I loved thee,

And ſhewed thee all the qualities o'th' Ifle,
The fresh Springs, Brine-pits; barren place and fertill,
Curs'd be I that I did ſo : All the Charmes

Of Sycorax: Toads, Beetles, Bats light on you :

For I am all the Subjects that you have,
Which firſt was mine own King: and here you fly-me
In this hard Rock, whiles you doe keep from me
The Reſt o'th' Inland.

Pro.

The Tempest.

Pro. Thou moft lying flave,

Whom ſtripes may move, not kindnes: I have us'd thee
(Filth as thou art) with humane care, and lodg'd thee
In mine own Cell, till thou didſt ſeek to violate
The honour of my childe.

Cal. Oh ho, oh ho, would't had been done:

Thou didſt prevent me, I had peopel'd elfe
This Ile with Caliban,

Mir. Abhorred Slave,

Mir. Abhorred Slave,
Which any print of goodneſs will not take,
Being capable of all ill: I pittyed thee,

Took pains to make thee ſpeak, taught thee each hour
One thing or other: when thou didſt not (Savage)
Know thine own meaning; but wouldſt gabble, like

A thing moſt brutiſh, I endow'd thy purpoſes
With words that made them known: But thy vild race

(Thou thou didſt learn) had that int', which good natures
Could not abide to be with; therefore waſt thou
Deferv'dly confin'd into this Rock, who hadſt
Deferv'd more then a prifon.

Cal. You taught me Language, and my profit on't
Is, I know how to curſe: the red-plague rid you
For learning me your language.

Pro. Hag-feed hence:

Fetch us in Fewel, and be quick thou'rt beſt

To anſwer other buſineſſe: ifrug'ſt thou (Malice)

If thou neglèct'ſt, or doſt unwillingly

What I command, Ile rack thee with old cramp's,

Fill all thy bones with Aches, make thee rore,

That beaſt ſhall tremble at thy dyn.

Cal. No, 'pray thee.

I muſt obey, his Art is of ſuch pow'r,

It would controll my Dam's god Setebos,

And make a vaſſaile of him.

Pro. So ſlave, hence.

Enter Ferdinand and Ariel, invisible playing & ſinging.

Ariel's Song, Come unto these yellow sands,

and then take hands:

Curtſied when you have, and kjst

the wild waw's whist:

Foot it featiſt here and there, and ſweet Sprights bear

the burthen.

Burthen disperſedly.

Hark, hark, hough-waugh: the watch-Dogs bark,

bough-waugh.

Ar. Hark, hark, I hear the ſtrain of ſtrutting Chanticlere,
ery cockadille-dowe.

Fer. Where should this Muſſic be? I' th' air, or th' earth?

It founds no more: and ſure it waits upon

Some god 'oth' Iland, fitting on a bank,

Weeping again the King my Fathers wrack.

This Muſſic crept by me upon the Waters,

Allaying both their fury, and my paffion

With it's ſweet ayre: thence I have follow'd it

(Or it hath drawn me rather) but 'tis gone,

No, it begins again.

Ariel's Song. Full fadom five thy Father lies,

Of his bones are Corrall made:

Those are pearl's that were his eyes,

Nothing of him that doth fade,

But doth ſuffer a Sea-change

Into ſomething rich, and ſtrange:

Sea-Nimphs hourly ring his knell.

Burthen: ding dong.

Hark now I hear them, ding-dong bell.

Fer. The Ditty do's remember my drownd'd father,

This is no mortal buſineſſe, nor no found

That the earth owes: I hear it now above me.

Pro. The fringed Curtains of thine eye advance,

And fay what thou ſee'ſt yond,

Mir. What is't a ſpirit?

Lord, how it look's about: Believe me fir;

It carries a brave forme. But 'tis a ſpirit,

Pro. No wench, it eats, and fleeps, and hath ſuch ſenſes

As we have; ſuch. This Gallant which thou ſeeft

Was in the wrack: and but hee's ſomething ſtaɪn'd.

With grief (that's beauties canker) thou might'ſt call him

A goodly perſon: he hath loſt his ſellowes,

And ſtrayes about to finde' em.

Mir. I might call him

A thing divine, for nothing natural

I ever law ſo Noble.

Pro. It goes on I fee

As my ſoul prompts it: Spirit, fine ſpirit, I'le free thee
Within two dayes for this.

Fer. Moſt ſure the god deſſe

On whom theſe ayres attend. Vouchſaſe my pray'ſt

May know, if you remain upon this Iland,

And that you will ſome good inſtruction give

How I may bear me here: my prime requeſt

(Which I do laſt pronounce) is (O you wonder)

If you be Maid, or no?

Mir. No wonder fir;

But certainly a Maid.

Fer. My Language? Heavens:

I am the beſt of them that ſpeak this ſpeech,

Were I but where 'tis ſoken.

Pro. How ? the beſt?

What wer't thou if the King of Naples heard thee?

Fer. A ſingle thing, as I am now, that wonders

To hear Thee ſpeak of Naples: he do's hear me,

And that he do's, I weep: my ſelf am Naples,

Who, with mine eyes (never ſince at ebbe) beheld

The King ny Father wrack't.

Mir. Alack, for mercy.

Fer. Yes faith, and all his Lords, the Duke of Millain

And his brave ſon, being twain.

Pro. The Duke of Millain

And his more braver daughter; could controll thee,

If now 'twere fit to do't: At the firſt ſight

They have chang'd eyes: Dilicate Ariel,

Ile ſet thee free for this. A word good Sir,

I fear you have done your ſelf some wrong: A word,

Mir. Why ſpeaks my father ſo urgently ? This

Is the third man that ere I ſaw: the firſt

That ere I ſigh'd for: pitty move my father

To be enclin'd my way.

Fer. O, if a Virgin,

And your affection not gone forth; Ile make you

The Queen of Naples.

Pro. Soft Sir, one word more.

They are both in either pow'rs: But this ſwift buſineſſ

I muſt uneaſe make, leaſt too light winning

Make the prize light. One word more: I charge thee

That thou attend me: Thou do'ſt here uſurpe

The name thou ow'ſt not, and haſt put thy ſelf

Upon this Iland, as a ſpye, to win it.

From me, the Lord on't.

Fer. No, as I am a man.

Mir. Ther's nothing ill, can dwell in ſuch a Temple.
If the ill-ſpirit have ſo fair a houſe,

Good things will ſtrive to dwell with't.

Pro. Follow me.

A 3

Prof-

The Tempeſt.

6

Prof. Speak not you for him: he's a Traitour: come,
I'le manacle thy neck and feet together:
Sea water flah't thou drink: thy food flah't be
The fresh-brook Mufsles, wither'd roots, and husks
Wherein the Acorn cradled. Follow.

Fer. No,
I will refift such entertainment, till
Mine enemy ha's more pow'r.

He drewes, and is charmed from moving.

Mira. O dear Father;
Make not too rafh a triall of him, for
He's gentle, and not fearfull.

Prof. What I say,
My foot my Tutor ? Put thy fword up Traitour,
Who makes a flew, but dar't not ftrike : thy confcience
Is poffeft with guilt: Come from thy ward,
For I can hear difarm thee with this flick,
And make thy weapon drop.

Mir. Befeech you Father.

Pro. Hence: hang not on my garments.

Mir. Sir, have pity,

I'le be his furety.
Pro. Silence: One word more
Shall make me chide thee, if not hate thee: What,
An advocate for an Impofter ? Hufh :
Thou think't there is no more fuch shapes as he,
(Having seen him and Caliban: ) Foolifh wench,
To th' moft of men, this is a Caliban,
And they to him are Angels.

Mir. My affections

Are then moſt humble: I have no ambition
To fee a goodlier man.

Pro. Come on, obey:
Thy Nerves are in their infancy again,
And have no vigour in them.

Fer. So they are :
My ſpirits, as in a dream, are all bound up :
My Fathers loffe, the weakneſs which I feel,
The wrack of all my friends, nor this mans threats,
To whom I am ſubdu'd, are but light to me,
Might I but through my prifon once a day
Behold this Maid : all corners elfe o'th' Earth
Let liberty make uſe of: ſpace enough
Have I in fuch a prifon.

Pro. It works: Come on.

Thou haſt done well, fine Ariell: follow me.
Hark what thou elfe flah't doe me.

Mir. Be of comfort,
My Father's of a better nature (Sir)
Then he appears by ſpeech: this is unwonted
Which now came from him.

Pro. Thou flah't be as free
As mountain winds, but then exaſtly doe
All points of my command.

Ar. To th' ſyllable.

Pro. Come follow: ſpeak not for him.

Exeunt.

Actus Secundus. Scena Prima.

Euter Alonso, Sebastian, Antonio, Gonzalo, Adrian,
Francisco, and others.

Gonz. Befeech you Sir, be merry: you have caufe,
(So have we all) of joy; for our eſcape

Is much beyond our loffe; our hint of woe
Is common, every day, fome Sailors Wife,
The Maſters of ſome Merchant, and the Merchant
Have juſt our Theam of woe: But for the miracle,
(I mean our prefervation) few in millions
Can ſpeak like us: then wifely (good Sir) weigh
Our forrow, with our comfort.

Alonſ. Prethee peace.

Seb. He receives comfort like cold porreſe.

Ant. The Vifitor will not give him o're ſo.

Seb. Look, he's winding up the Watch of his wit,
By and by it will ſtrike.

Gon. Sir.

Seb. On: Tell.

Gon. When every grief is entertain'd,
That's offer'd comes to th' entertainer.

Seb. A dollor.

Gon. Dolour comes to him indeed, you have ſpoken
truer then you purpos'd.

Seb. You have taken it wifelier then I meant you
thou'd.

Gon. Therefore my Lord.

Ant. Fie, what a ſpend-thrift is he of his tongue.

Alon. I prethee ſpare.

Gon. Well, I have done: But yet

Seb. He will be talking.

Ant. Which, of he, or Adrian, for a good wager,
Firſt begins to crow ?

Seb. The old Cock.

Ant. The Cockrell.

Seb. Done: The wager?

Ant. A laugher.

Seb. A match.

Adr. Though this Iland seem to be defert.

Seb. Ha, ha, ha.

Ant. So: you'r paid.

Adr. Uninhabitable, and almost inacceſſible.

Seb. Yet.

Adr. Yet.

Ant. He could not miff't.

Adr. It naſt needs be of ſubtle, tender, and delicate
temperance.

Ant. Temperance was a delicate wench.

Seb. I, and a ſubtle, as he moſt learnedly deliver'd.

Adr. The aire breathes upon us here moſt ſweetly.

Seb. As if it had Lungs, and rotten ones.

Ant. Or, as 'twere perfum'd by a Fen.

Gon. Here is every thing advantageous to life,

Ant. True, ſave means to live.

Seb. Of that there's none, or little.

Gon. How luſh and luſty the graſſe looks?

How green?

Ant. The ground indeed is tawny.

Seb. With an eye of green in't.

Ant. He miffes not much.

Seb. No: he doth but miftake the truth totally.

Gon. But the rarity of it is, which is indeed almost
beyond credit.

Seb. As many vouch rarities are,

Gon. That our Garments being (as they were) drencht
in the Sea, hold notwithstanding their freshneſſe and
gloſſes, being rather new dy'd then ſtain'd with salt
water.

Ant. If but one of his pockets could ſpeak, would it
not ſay he lies?

Seb. I, or very ſalfely pocket up his report.

Gon.

The Tempeft.

7

Gon. Methinks our garments are now as fresh as when
we put them on first in Affrick, at the marriage of the
Kings fair daughter Claribel to the King of Tunis.

Seb. 'Twas a sweet marriage, and we prosper well in
our return.

Adri. Tunis was never grac'd before with such a Pa-
ragon to their Queen.

Gon. Not since Widow Dido's time.

Ant. Widow ? a pox o' that : how came that Widow
in? Widow Dido !

Seb. What if he had faid Widower Æneas too ?
Good Lord, how you take it ?

Adri. Widow Dido said you ? You make me study
of that : She was of Carthage, not of Tunis.

Gon. This Tunis Sir was Carthage.

Adri. Carthage?

Gon. I assure you Carthage.

Ant. His word is more then the miraculous Harp.

Seb. He hath rais'd the wall, and houſes too.

Ant. What impoffible matter will he make caſe next?

Seb. I think he will carry this Iſland home in his
pocket, and give it his ſon for an Apple.

Ant. And fowing the kernels of it in the Sea, bring
forth more Iſlands,

Gon. I,

Ant. Why in good time.

Gon. Sir, we were talking, that our garments ſeeu
now as fresh as when we were at Tunis at the marriage
of your daughter, who is now Queen.

Ant. And the rareſt that ere came there,

Seb. Bate (I beſeech you) Widow Dido.

Ant. O Widow Dido ? I, Widow Dido.

Gon. Is not my Doubt Sir as fresh as the first day I
wore it ? I mean in a fort.

Ant. That fort was well fifth'd for,

Gon. When I wore it at your daughters marriage,

Alon. You cram theſe words into mine ears, againſt
the ſomack of my ſenſe: would I had never

Married my daughter there : For comming thence

My ſon is loſſ, and (in my rate) ſhe too,

Who is ſo far from Italy removed,

I ne're again ſhall fee her: O thou mine heir

Of Naples and of Millain, what ſtrange fifth

Hath made his meal on thee ?

Fran. Sir he may live.

I ſaw him beat the ſurges under him,

And ride upon his backs ; hetrod the water

Whofe enmity he ſlung afide : and breſted

The ſurge moſt ſwoln that met him : his bold head

'Bove the contentious waves he kept and oared,

Himſelf with his good armes in luſty ſtroke

To th'ihore ; that ore his wave-worn basiſ bowed

As flooſing to relieve him : I not doubt

He came alive to Land.

Alon. No, no, he's gone.

Seb. Sir you may thank your ſelf for this great loſſe,
That would not bleſſe our Europe with your daughter,

But rather loſſe her to an African.

Where ſhe at leaſt, is banifh'd from your eye,

Who hath cauſe to wet the grief on't.

Alon. Prethee peace.

Seb. You were kneel'd too, and importun'd otherwife
By all of us ; and the fair ſoul her ſelf

Waigh'd between loathneſſe, and obedience, at

Which end o'th beam ſhould bow : we have loft your
I fear for ever : Millain and Naples have

Mo Widows in them of this buſineſſe making,

Then we bring men to comfort them :

The fault's your own.

Alon. So is the deer's o'th' loſſe,

Gon. My Lord Sebastian,

The truth you ſpeak doth lacke some gentlenesse

And time to ſpeak it in : you rub the ſore,

When you ſhould bring the plaſiſer.

Seb. Very well. Ant. And moſt Chirurgeonly.

Gon. It is foul weather in us all, good Sir ;

When you are cloudy.

Seb. Foul weather ?

Ant. Very foul

Gon. Had I plantation of this Iſle my Lord.

Ant. He'd fow't with Nettle-feed.

Seb. Or Docks, or Mallows,

Gon. And were the King on't, what would I doe ?

Seb. Scape being drunk, for want of Wine.

Gon. I' th' Commonwealth I would (by contraries)

Execute all things : For no kind of Traſſick

Would I admit : No name of Magiſtrate :

Letters ſhould not be known : Riches, poverty,

And uſe of iſvice, none : Contraſt, Succession ;

Born, bound of Land, Tilth, Vineyard none :

No uſe of Metall, Corn, or Wine, or Oyl :

No occupation, all men idle, all :

And women too, but innocent and pure :

No Soveraignty.

Seb. Yet he would be King on't.

Ant. The latter end of his Common-wealth ſends
the beginning.

Gon. All things in common Nature ſhould produce

Without ſweat or endeavour : Treason, ſellony,

Sword, Pike, Knife, Gun, or nee of any Engine

Would I not have : but Nature ſhould bring forth

Of it's own kind, all ſoyzons, all abundance

To feed my innocent people.

Seb. No marrying 'mong his Subjects ?

Ant. None (man) all idle ; Whores and Knaves ;

Gon. I would with ſuch perfection govern Sir :

I' excell the Golden Age.

Seb. 'Save his Majeſtly. Ant. Long live Gonzalo.

Gon. And doe you marke me, Sir ? (me)

Alon. Prethee no more : thou dos't talk nothing to

Gon. I doe well believe your Highneſſe, and did it
to minifter occaſion to theſe Gentlemen, who are of ſuch
ſenſible and ninnible Lungs, that they always uſe to laugh
at nothing.

Ant. 'Twas you we laugh'd at.

Gon. Who, in this kind of merry fooling am nothing
to you : fo you may continue, and laugh at nothiog it still.

Ant. What a blow was there given ?

Seb. And it had not ſaln flat-long.

Gon. You are Gentlemen of a brave metal : you would
lift the Moon out of her sphere, if ſhe would continue in
it five weeks without charging.

Enter Ariell playing ſolemn Muſick.

Seb. We would ſo, and then go a Bat-fowling,

Ant. Nay good my Lord, be not angry,

Gon. No I warrant you, I will not adventure my diſ-
cretion ſo weakly : Will you laugh me aſſleep, for I am
very heavy.

Ant. Go ſleep and hear us.

Alon. What, all ſo ſoon aſſleep ? I with mine eyes
Would (with themſelves) ſhut up my thoughts ;
I find they are inclin'd to do ſo.

Seb. Pleaſe you Sir,

Doe not omit the heavy offer of it :

It ſeldome vifits ſorrow, when it doth, it is a Comforter

Ant.

The Tempeft.

8

Ant. We two my Lord, will guard your person,
While you take your reft, and watch your safety.

Alon. Thank you : Wondrous heavy.

Seb. What a ftrange drowfineſſe poſſeſſes them ?

Ant. It is the quality o' th' Clymate.

Seb. Why.

Doth it not then our eye-lids finke ? I finde

Not my ſelf diſpos'd to ſleep :

Ant. Nor I, my ſpirits are nimble :
They fell together all, as by conf ſt
They dropt, as by a Thunder-ſtroke: what might :
Worthy ſebaſtian ? O, what might ? no more
And yer, ne thinks I fee it in thy face,
What thou ſhould't be : th' occafion ſpeak's thee, and
My ſtrong imagination ſee's a Crown
Dropping upon thy head.

Seb. What ? art thou waking?

Ant. Do you not hear me ſpeak ?

Seb. I do, and ſurely

It is a ſleepy Language, and thou ſpeak'st
Out of thy ſleep: What is it thou didſt ſay ?
This is a ſtrange repofe, to be ſleep
With eyes wide open: ſtanding, ſpeaking, moving :
And yet ſo faſt ſleep.

Ant. Noble ſebaſtian,

Thou let't thy fortune ſleep: die rather : wink'ſt
Whiles thou art waking.

Seb. Thou doſt ſnore diffinetly,
There's meaning in thy ſnores.

Ant. I am more ſerious then my cufome : you
Muſt be ſo too, if heed me : which to doe,
Trebbles thee o're.

Seb. Well : I am ſtanding water.

Ant. I'le teach you how to flow,

Seb. Do ſo : to ebbe,

Hereditary Sloth inſtructs me.

Ant. O !

If you but knew how you the purpose cheriſh
Whiles thus you mock it: how in ſtripping it
You more inveſt it: ebbing men, indeed
(Moſt often) doe ſo near the bottom run
By their own fear, or ſloth.

Seb. 'Prethee ſay on,

The ſetting of thine eye, and cheek proclaim
A matter from thee : and a birth, indeed,
Which throws thee much to yield.

Ant. Thus Sir :

Although this Lord of weak remembrance ; this
Who ſhall be of as little memory
When he is earth'd, hath here almoſt perſwaded
(For he's a Spirit of perſwafion, onely
Proſeſſes to perſwade) the King his ſon's alive,
'Tis as impoſſible that he's undrown'd,
As he that ſleeps here, ſwims,

Seb. I have no hope,
That he's undrown'd.

Ant. O, out of that no hope,
What great hope have you ? No hope that way : Iſ
Another way, to high a hope, that even
Ambition cannot pierce a wink beyond,
But doubt diſcovery there. Will you grant with me
That ſerdinaud is droun'd ?

Seb. He's gone.

Ant. Then tell me who's the next heir of Naples ?

Seb. Claribell.

Ant. She that is Queen of Tunis: ſhe that dwells

Ten leagues beyond mans life : ſhe that from Naples
Can have no note, unleſſe the Sun were poff ‡
The Man i'th Moon's too flow, till new-born chinnes
Be rough, and Razor-able : ſhe that from whom
We all were ſea-ſwallow'd, though ſome caſt again,
And by that deſtiny to perform an act,
Whereof, what's paff in prologue ; what to come
In yours, and my diſcharge.

Seb. What ſtuffe is this ? How ſay you ?

'Tis true, my brother's daughter's Queen of Tunis,
So is ſhe heir of Naples, twixt which Regions
There is ſome ſpace.

Ant. A ſpace, whoſe ev'ry cubit
Seems to cry our, how ſhall that Claribell
Meaſure us back by Naples ? keep in Tunis.
And let ſebaſtian wake. Say, this were death
That now hath ſeiz'd them, why they were no worſe
Then now they are : There be that can rule Naples
As well as he ſleeps : Lords, that can prate
As amply, and unneceſſarily
As this Gonzalo : I my ſelf could make
A Chough of as deep chat: O, that you bore
The mind that I do ; what a ſleep were this
For your advancement ! Doe you underſand me?

Seb. Me thinks I doe.

Ant. And how do's your content
Tender your own good ſunne ?

Seb. I remember

You did ſupplant your Brother P[ro]ſpero.

Ant. True :

And look how well my Garments fit upon me,
Much feater then before : My Brother's ſervants
Were then my ſellows, now they are my men.

Seb. But for your confidence.

Ant. I Sir: where lies that ? If 'twere a kybe
'Twould put me to my ſlipper : But I feel not
This Deity in my boſome: Twenty confidences
That ſtand 'twixt me, and Millain, candied be they,
And melt ere they molſt : Here lies your Brother,
No better then the earth he lies upon,
If he were that which now he's like (that's dead)
Whom I with this obedient ſeel (three inches of it)
Can lay to bed for ever : whiles you doing thus,
To the perpetuall wink foraye might put
This ancient morſell : this Sir Prudence, who
Should not upbraid our courſe : for all the reſt
They'l take ſuggeſtion, as a Cat laps milk,
They'l tell the clock, to any buſineſſe that
We ſay beſits the hour.

Seb. Thy caſe, dear Friend

Shall be my preſident : As thou got'ſt Millain,
I'le come by Naples : Draw thy ſword, one ſtroke
Shall free thee from the tribute which thou payeſt,
And I the King ſhall love thee.

Ant. Draw together :
And when I rear my hand, doe you the like
To fall it on Gonzalo.

Seb. O, but one word,

Enter Ariell with M[as]ſick and Song.

Ariel. My Maſter through his Art foreſees the danger
That you (his friend) are in, and ſends me forth
(For eſſe his project dies) to keep them living.

Sings in Gonzalo's ear.

While you here do ſnoaring lie,
Open-ey'd Conſpiracie

His time doth take :

If

The Tempest.

9

If of Life you keep a care,
Shake of slumber and beware.
Awake, awake.

Ant. Then let us both be fudden.

Gon. Now, good Angels, preferve the King.

Alo. Why how now hoa;awake? why are you drawn?
Wherefore this ghafty looking?

Gon. What's the matter ?

Seb. Whiles we flood here feuring your repofe,
(Even now) we heard a hollow burft of bellowing
Like Bulls, or rather Lyons, did not wake you ?
It trook mine ear moft terribly.

Alo. I heard nothing.

Ant. O, 'twas a din to fright a Monster's ear ;
To make an earthquake : fure it was the roare
Of a whole herd of Lyons.

Alo. Hard you this Gonzalo?

Gon. Upon mine honour, Sir, I heard a humming,
(And that a ftrange one too) which did awake me :
I fhaok'd you Sir, and cri'd : as mine eyes open'd,
I faw their weapons drawn : there was a noyfe,
That's verily : 'tis beft we fta nd upon our guard ;
Or that we quit this place: let's draw our weapons,

Alo. Lead off this ground, and let's make further fearch
For my poor fon.

Gon. Heavens keep him from thefe Beasts :
For he is fure i' th Island.

Alo. Lead away.

Ar. Prospero, my Lord, shall know what I have done.
So (King) go safely on to feek thy Son.

Exeunt.

## Scena Secunda.

Enter Caliban, with a burthen of wood (a noyfe of Thunder heard.)

Cal. All the infeditions that the Sun fucks up
From Bogs, Fens, Flats, on Prosper fall, and make him
By yynch-meal a difeafe: his Spirits hear me,
And yet I needs muft curfe. But they I not pinch,
Fright me with Urchin-thewes, pitch me i' th mire,
Nor lead me like a fire-brand, in the dark
Out of my way, unleffe he bid'em ; but
For every trifle, are they fet upon me,
Sometime like Apes, that moe and chatter at me,
And after bite me: then like Hedg-hogs, which
Lie tumbling in my barefoot way, and mount
Their pricks at my foot-fall: sometime am I
All wound with Adders, who with cloven tongues
Do haffe me into madneſſe: Lo, now Lo,
Enter.
Here comes a Spirit of his, and to torment me, Trinculo.
For bringing wood in flowly : I' le fall flat,
Perchance he will not mind me.

Tri. Here's neither buſh, nor ſhub to bear off any
weather at all: and another ſtorm brewing, I hear it
ſing : 'th wind : yond fame black cloud, yond huge
one, looks like a foul bumbard that would ſhed his
liquor ; if it ſhould thunder, as it did before, I know
not where to hide my head : yond fame cloud cannot
chufe but fall by pailefulls. What have we here, a man,
or a fifth dead or alive ? a fifth, he ſmells like a fifth : a
very ancient and fifth-like ſmell : a kind of, not of the

neweft poor John : a ftrange ſih : were I in England
now (as once I was) and had but this fifth painted ; nor
a holy-day fool there but would give a piece of silver :
there, would this monster, make a man : any ftrange
beaſt there, makes a man : when they will not give a
doit to relieve a lame Beggar, they will lay out ten to fee
a dead Indian : Leg'd like a man ; and his Fins like
Armes; warm o' my troth : I doe now let loose my o-
p'lion ; hold it no longer ; this is no fifth, but an Ilan-
der, that hath lately ſuffered by a Thunderbolt : Atque,
the ſtorm is come again : my beſt way is to creep un-
der his Gaberdine : there is no other ſhelter hereabout :
Mifery acquaints a man with ſtrange bedfellows ; I will
here throwd till the dregs of the ſtorm be paſt,

Enter Stephano ſinging.

Ste. I shall no more to fea to ſea, here shall I dye after.
This is a very ſcurvy tune to ſing at a mans
Funerall : well, here's my comfort.
Drinks.
Sings. The Maſter, the Swabber, the Beat-of-main &c.
The Gunner, and his Mate,
Lov'd Mall, Meg, and Marrian, and Marbery,
But none of us car'd for Kate,
For ſhe had a tongue with a tang,
Would cry to a Sailour go hang :
She lou'd not the ſavour of Tar nor of Pitch,
Yet a Taylor might scratch her where ere ſhe did itch,
Then to Sea Boys, and let her go hang.
This is a ſcurvy tune too :
But here's my comfort.
Drinks.

Cal. Doe not torment me : oh.
Ste. What's the matter ?
Have we Devils here ?

Do you put tricks upon's with Salvages, and Men of Inde-
ha ? I have not ſcap'd drowning, to be aſcared now of
your four legs : for it hath bin ſaid : as proper a man as
ever went on four legs, cannot make him give ground :
and it shall be ſaid so again, while Stephano Breathes at
noſtrils.

Cal. The Spirit torments me : oh.
Ste. This is ſome monſter of the Ille, with four legs :
who hath got (as I take it) an ague : where the Devil
should he learn our language ? I will give him ſome re-
lief if it be but for that : if I can recover him, and keep
him tame, and get to Naples with him, he's a Pre-
fent for any Emperour that ever trod on Neats-Lea-
ther.

Cal. Doe not torment me, prethee: I'le bring my
wood home after.

Ste. He's in his fit now; and do's not talk after the
wifet ; he ſhall tafe of my Bottle : if he have never
drunk Wine afore, it will go near to remove his Fit :
if I can recover him, and keep him tame, I will not take
too much for him; he ſhall pay for him that hath him,
and that foundly.

Cal, Thou doſt me yet but little hurt ; thou wilt anon,
I know it by thy trembling : Now Prosper works upon
thee.

Ste. Come on your wayes : open your mouth : here
is that which will give language to you Cat; open your
mouth ; this will ſhake your ſhaking, I can tell you, and
that foundly : you cannot tell who's your friend, open
your chaps again.

Tri. I should know that voyce :
It should be,--------

But

The Tempeft.

IO

But he is drown'd; and these are: Devils; O defend
me.

Ste. Four legs and two voyces; a moft delicate
Monfter : his forward voyce now is to speak of his
friend; his backward voyce, is to utter foul speeches,
and to detract: if all the Wine in my Bottle will recover
him, I will help his Azue: Come: Amen, I will pourre
fome in thy other mouth.

Tri. Stephano.

Ste. Doth thy other mouth call me? Mercy, mercy :
This is a Devil and no Monfter: I will leave him, I have
no long Spoon,

Tri. Stephano: if thou beest Stephano, touch me, and
speak to me for I am Trinculo; be not afraid, thy good
friend Trinculo.

Ste. If thou beest Trinculo: come forth: I'le pull thee
by the leffer legs: if any be Trinculo's legs thefe are
they: Thou art very Trinculo indeed: how cam'ft thou
to be the fiage of this Moon-calf? Can he vent Trin-
culo's!

Tri. I took him to be kill'd with a thunder-stroke; but
art thou not drown'd Stephano: I hope now thou art not
drown'd: Is the storm over-blown? I hid me under the
dead Moon-Calfes Gaberdine, for fear of the Storm :
And art thou living Stephano? O Stephano, two Nea-
politanes fcap'd?

Ste. 'Prethee doe not turn me about, my ftomack is
not contant.

Cal. These be fine things, and if they be not sprights:
that's a brave god, and bears Celestiall liquor: I will
kneel to him.

Ste. How did'ft thou ſcape ?

How cam'ft thou hither ?

Swear by this Bottle how thou cam'ft hither: I eſcap'd
upon a But of Sack, which the Saylors heaved o're-
board, by this Bottle which I made of the Bark of
a Tree, with mine own hands, ſince I was caſt a-
shore.

Cal. I'le ſwear upon that Bottle, to be thy true Sub-
jeſt, for the liquor is not earthly.

Ste. Here: ſwear then how thou eſcap'dſt.

Tri. Swom aſhore (man) like a Duck; I can ſwim like
a Duck it'le be ſworn.

Ste. Here, kiffle the Book.

Though thou canſt ſwim like a Duck, thou art made like
a Goofe.

Tri. O Stephano, has't any more of this ?

Ste. The whole But (man) my Cellar is in a rock by
th'Sea ſide, where my wine is hid :

How now Moon-Calf, how do's thine Ague ?

Cal. Has't thou nor dropt from heaven ?

Ste. Out o'th' Moon I doe affure thee. I was the Man
ith' Moon when time was,

Cal. I have seen thee in her: and I doe adore thee :
My Miftreſſe ſhew'd me thee, and thy Dog, and thy Buff.
S'wear.

Ste. Come ſwear to that: kiffle the Book : I will fur-
nifh it anon with the new contents: Swear.

Tri. By this good light, this is a very ſhallow Mon-
fter: I aſeafad of him ? a very ſhallow Monſter:
The Man ith' Moon ?

A moſt poor credulous Monſter:

Well drawn Monſter, in good foot.

Cal. I'le ſhew the every fertill ynch o'th' Idle : and
I will kiffle thy foot: I prethee be my god.

Tri. By this light, a moſt perfidious, and drunken
Monſter, when's god's afleep he'll rob his Bottle,

Cal. I'le kiffle thy foot, I'le ſwear my ſelf thy Subject.

Ste. Come on then: down and ſwear.

Tri. I hall laugh my ſelf to death at this puppy-head-
ed Monſter: a moſt ſcurie Monſter: I could find in my
heart to beat him.

Ste. Come, kiffle.

Tri. But that the poor Monſter's in drink
An abhominable Monſter.

Cal. I'le ſhew thee the beſt Springs: I'le pluck thee
Berries: I'le fifth for thee; and get thee wood enough,
A plague upon the Tyrant that I ſerve ;

I'le bear him no more Sticks, but follow thee, thou won-
drous man.

Tri. A moſt ridiculous Monſter, to make a wonder of
a poor drunkard.

Cal. I prethee let me bring thee where Crabs grow;
and I with my long nayles will dig thee pig-nuts; ſhow
thee a Jay's neſt, and inſtruct thee how to ſnare the nim-
ble Marmazet: I'le bring thee to cluſtring Philbirs,
and fometimes I'le get thee young Scamels from the Rock:
Wilt thou go with me?

Cal. I prethee now lead the way without any more
talking. Trinculo, the King, and all our company elfe
being drownd, we will inherit here: Here; bear my
Bottle: Fellow Trinculo; we'll fill him by and by a-
gain:

Caliban ſings drunkenly.

Farewell Maſter; farewell, farewell.

Tri. A howling Monſter: a drunken Monſter.

Cal. No more dams I'le make for fifth,
Nor fetch in firing, at requiring,
Nor scrape trenchering, nor wash diſſe,
Ban' ban', Cacalyban

Has a new Maſter, get a new Man,

Freedome, high-day, high-day freedome, freedome high-
day freedome.

Ste. O brave Monſter, lead the way.

Exeunt.

Actus Tertius. Scena Prima.

Enter Ferdinand (bearing a Log.)

Fer. There be ſome ſports are painfull; and their labour
Delight in them ſet off: Some kinds of bafeſſe
Are nobly undergon; and moſt poor matters
Point to rich ends: this my mean Task
Would be as heavy to me, as odious, but

The Miftreſſe which I ſerve, quickens what's dead,
And makes my labours pleafures: O the is
Ten times more gentle, then her Father's crabbed;

And he's compo'd of harthneſſe, I muſt remove
Some thousands of theſe Logs; and pile them up,

Upon a fore injunction; my ſweet Miftreſſe

Weeps when ſhe fees me work, and fays, ſuch bafeſſe
Had never like Excuſor: I forget:

But theſe ſweet thoughts, doe even ſeſtrefh my labours,
Moft buſe leaſt, when I doe it.

Enter Miranda
Mir. Alas, now pray you.

Work not so hard: I would the lightning had

Burnt up theſe Logs that thou art enjoyed to pike:

Pray ſet it down, and reſt you: when this burns

'Twill weep for having wearied you: my Father
Is hard at ſtudy, pray now reſt your ſelf,

He's

The Tempeft.

II

Hee's safe for these three hours.

Fer. O moft dear Miftreſſe,
The Sun will fet before I ſhall diſcharge
What I muſt ſtrive to doe.

What I muſt ſtrive to doe.

Mèr. If you'll fit down

I'le bear your Logs the while : pray give me that,
I'le carry it to the pile.

Fer. No precious Creature,
I had rather crack my ſnows, break my back,
Then you ſhould fuch diſhonor undergoe,

While I fit lazy by.
Mir. It would become me.

Mir. It would become me.

As well as it do's you ; and I should do it
With much more eafe : for my good will is to it,
And yours it is againſt.

Pro. Poor worm thou art inſected,
This viſitation ſhews it.

Mir. You look wearily.

Fer. No, noble Miftreſſs, 'tis freſh morning with me.
When you are by, at night : I do beſeech you,

Chiefly, that I might fet it in my prayers,
What is your name ?

Mir. Miranda. O my Father,
I have broke your heſt to ſay ſo.

Fer. Admir'd Miranda,

Indeed the top of Admiration, worth
What's deareſt to the world : full many a Lady

I have ey'd with beſt regard, and many a time
Th'harmony of their tongues hath into bondage

Brought my too diligent ear : for ſeveral virtues
Have I lik'd ſeveral women, never any

With ſo full ſoul, but ſome defect in her
Did quarrell with the nobleft grace ſhe ow'd,

And put it to the ſoyl. But, you, O you,
So perſeſt, and ſo peerleſſe, are created

Of every Creatures beſt.

Mir. I do not know

One of my ſex ; no womans face remember ;
Save from my glaſſe, mine own : Nor have I ſeen

More that I may call men, then you good friend,
And my dear Father : how features are abroad

I am skilleſſe of; but my modety

(The jewell in my dower) I would not with

Any Companion in the world but you;

Nor can imagination form a ſhape,

Besides your ſelf, to like of: but I prattle

Something too wildly, and my Fathers precepts
I therein doe forget.

Fer. I am, in my condition

A Prince (Miranda) I doe think a King
(I would not ſo) and would no more endure

This wooden ſlavery, then to ſuffer

The fleſh-flie blow my mouth : hear my ſoul ſpeak.

The very inſtant that I ſaw you did

My heart ſlie to your ſervice, there ſeſides

To make me ſlave to it, and for your ſake

Am I this patient Log-man.

Mir. Do you love me !

Fer. O heaven ; O earth, bear witneſſe to this ſound,
And crown what I proſeſſe with kind event

If I ſpeak true : if hollowly, invert

What beſt is boaded me, to miſchief: I,

Beyond all limit of what eſſe i'ch' world

Do love, prize, honour you,

Mir. I am a fool

To weep at what I am glad of.

Pro. Fair encounter

Of two moſt rare affections: heauen's rain grace
On that which breeds between'em.

Fer. Wherefore weep you?

Mir. At mine unworthineſſe that dare not offer
What I deſire to give, and much leſſe take

What I ſhall die to want : But this is trifling,

And all the more it ſeek to hide it ſelf,

The bigger bulk ie ſhews. Hence bath full cunning,

And prompt me plain and holy innocence.

I am your wife if you will marry me ;

If not, I'le die your maid : to be your fellow

You may denie me ; but I'le be your ſeruant

Whether you will or no.

Fer. My Miftreſſe (deareſt)

And I thus humble ever.

Mir. My Husband then ?

Fer. I, with a heart ſo willing

As bondage ere of freedome : here's my hand.

Mir. And mine, with my heart in't ; and now farewell
Till half an hour hence,

Fer. A thouſand, thouſand.

Pro. So glad of this as they I cannot be,

Who are ſurpriz'd with all ; but my rejoycing

At nothing can be more : I'le to my book,

For yet ere ſupper time muſt I perform

Much buſineſſe appertaining.

Exeunt.

Exit.

## Scena Secunda.

Enter Caliban, Stephano, and Trinculo.

Ste. Tell not me, when the But is out we will drink water, not a drop, before ; therefore bear up, and board 'em Servant Monſter, drink to me.

Trin. Servant Monſter ? the folly of this Iland, they ſay there's but five upon this Iſle ; we are three of them, if th'other two be brain'd like us, the State totters.

Ste. Drink ſervant Monſter when I bid thee, thy eyes are almost ſet in thy heart.

Trin. Where should they be ſet eſſe ? he were a brave Monſter indeed if they were ſet in his tail.

Ste. My man-Monſter hath drownd'd his tongue in Sack : for my part the Sea cannot drown me, I ſwam ere I could recover the ſhore, five and thirty Leagues, off and on, by this light thou ſhalt be my Lieutenant Monſter, or my Standard.

Trin. Your Lieutenant if you lift, hee's no ſtandard.

Ste. Wee'l not run Monſieur Monſter.

Trin. Nor go neither : but you'l lye like dogs, and yet ſay nothing neither.

Ste. Moon-calf, ſpeak once in thy life, if thou beſt a good Moon-calf.

Cal. How does thy honour ? Let me lick thy ſtooe : I'le not ſerve him, he is not valiant.

Trin. Thou lieſt moſt ignorant Monſter, I am in eafe to juſtle a Conſtable : why, thou deboſh'd ſiſh thou, was there ever man a Coward, that hath drunk ſo much Sack as I to day ? wilt thou tell me a monſtrous lye, being but half a ſiſh and half a Monſter ?

Cal. Loe, how he mocks me, wilt thou let him my
Lord ?

Trin.

The Tempeſt.

12

Trin. Lord, quoth he ? that a Monſter ſhould be ſuch a Naturall ?

Cal. Loe, loe again : bite him to death I prethee.

Ste. Trinculo, keep a good tongue in your head : If you prove a nutincer, the next Tree : the poor Monſter's my ſubjeſt, and he ſhall not ſuffer indignity.

Cal. I thank my noble Lord, Wilt thou be please'd once again to hearken to the ſuit I made to thee ?

Ste. Marry will I : kneel and repeat it, I will ſtand, and ſo ſhall Trinculo.

Enter Ariell invisible.

Cal. As I told thee before, I am ſubjeſt to a Tyrant, A Sorcerer that by his cunning hath cheated me Of the Iſland.

Ariell. Thou lyeſt.

Cal. Thou lyeſt, thou jeſting Monkey thou : I would my valiant Maſter would deſtroy thee ; I doe not lye.

Ste. Trinculo, if you trouble him any more in's tale, By this hand, I will ſupplant ſome of your teeth.

Trin. Why, I faid nothing.

Ste. Mum then, and no more : proceed.

Cal. I ſay by Sorcery he got this Iſle

From me, he got it. If thy Greatneſſe will

Revenge it on him, (for I know thou dar't)

But this thing dare not.

Ste. That's moſt certain.

Cal. Thou ſhalt be Lord of it, and I'll ſerve thee.

Ste. How now ſhall this be compaſt ?

Canſt thou bring me to the party ?

Cal. Yea, yea, my Lord, I'le yield him thee aſleep, Where thou maſt knock a nail into his head.

Ariell. Thou lieſt, thou canſt not.

Cal. What a py'd Ninnie's this? Thou ſcurvy patch : I doe beſech thy Greatneſſe give him blows, And take his Bottle from him : When that's gone, He ſhall drink nought but brine, for I'le not ſhew him, Where the quick Frefhes are.

Ste. Trinculo, run into no further danger : Interrupt the Monſter one word further, and by this hand, I'le turn my mercy out o' doors, and make a Stockſh of thee.

Trin. Why, what did I ? I did nothing : I'le go no further off.

Ste. Didſt thou not ſay he lyed :

Ariell. Thou lyeſt.

Ste. Doe I fo ? Take you that, As you like this, give me the lye another time.

Trin. I did not give the lye ; Out o' your wits and hearing too ? A pox o' your Bottle, this can Sack and drinking doe : A murran on your Monſter, and the Devil take your fingers.

Cal. Ha, ha, ha.

Ste. Now forward with your Tale : prethee ſtand further off.

Cal. Beat him enough : after a little time I'le beat him too.

Ste. Stand further : Come proceed.

Cal. Why, as I told thee, 'tis a cuſtome with him I'ch afternoon to ſleep : there thou maſt brain him, Having firſt ſeiz'd his Books : Or with a Log Batter his skull, or paunch him with a Stake, Or cut his wezand with thy Knife. Remember Firſt to poffeſſe his Books ; for without them

Hee's but a Sot, as I am ; nor hath not One Spirit to command : they all doe hate him As rootedly as I. Burn but his Books, He ha's brave Utensils (for ſo he calls them)

Which when he has a houſe, hee't deck withal, And that moſt deeply to confider, is

The beauty of his Daughter : he himself
Calls her a non-pareil : I never ſaw a woman

But onely Sycorax my Dam, and the ;

But ſhe as far ſurpaffeth Sycorax,
As great't do's leaſt.

Ste. Is it ſo brave a Laſs ?

Cal. I Lord, ſhe will become thy bed, I warrant, And bring thee forth brave brood.

Ste. Monſter, I will kill this man : his Daughter and I will be King and Queen, ſave our Graces : and Trinculo and thy ſelf ſhall be Vice-royes : Doſt thou like the plot Trinculo ?

Trin. Excellent.

Ste. Give me thy hand, I am forry I beat thee :
But while thou liv't keep a good tongue in thy head.

Cal. Within this half hour will he be aſleep,
Wilt thou deſtroy him then ?

Ste. I on mine honour.

Ariell. This will I tell my Maſter.

Cal. Thou mak't me merry : I am full of pleasure, Let us be jocond. Will you troul the Catch You taught me but whileare ?

Ste. At thy request Monſter, I will doe reaſon,
And reaſon : Come on Trinculo, let us ſing.

Sings.

Flout'em and cout'em : and skowt'em, and flout'em,
Thought is free.

Cal. That's not the tune.

Ariell plays the tune on a Tabor and Pipe.

Ste. What is this fame ?

Trin. This is the tune of our Catch, plaid by the picture of No-body.

Ste. If thou beſt a man, ſhow thy ſelf in thy likeneſs : If thou beſt a devil, tak't as thou lift.

Trin. O forgive me my fins.

Ste. He that dies pays all debts : I defie thee,
Mercy upon us.

Cal. Art thou affeard ?

Ste. No Monſter, not I.

Cal. Be not affeard, the Iſle is full of noyſes,
Sounds, and ſweet aires, that give delight and hurt not :
Sometimes a thouſand twangling Inſtruments
Will hum about mine ears : and ſometimes voyces,
That if I then had wak'd after long ſleep.

Will make me ſleep again ; and then in dreaming
The clouds me thought would open, and ſhow riches
Ready to drop upon me, that when I wak'd
I cri'd to dream again.

Ste. This will prove a brave Kingdome to me,
Where I ſhall have my mufick for nothing.

Cal. When Prospero is deſtroy'd.

Ste. That ſhall be by and by :
I remember the ſtory.

Trin. The found is going away.

Let's follow it, and after doe our work.

Ste. Lead Monſter,

Wee'l follow : I would I could ſee his Taborer.

He layes it on.

Trin. Wilt come ?

I'll follow Stephano.

Exeunt.

Scena

The Merchant of Venice.

177

The husbandry and manage of my house,
Untill my Lords return; for mine own part

I have toward heaven breath'd a secret vow,
To live in prayer and contemplation,
Onely attended by *Nerriffa* here,

Untill her husband and my Lords return :
There is a monasterie two miles off,
And there we will abide. I doe desire you
Not to deny this infopution,

The which my love and some necessity
Now layes upon you.

Lor. Madam, with all my heart,
I shall obey you in all fair commands.

Por. My people doe already know my minde,
And will acknowledge you and *Jeflica*

In place of Lord *Baffanio* and my self.

So fare you well till we shall meet again.

Lor. Fair thoughts and happy hours attend on you.

Ief. I wifh your Ladiship all hearts content.

Por. I thank you for your wilh, and am well pleas'd
To wifh it back on you: fare you well *Ieflica*, *Exeunt*.

Now *Balthazar*, as I have ever found thee honest true,
So let me find thee still: take this fame Letter,

And ufe thou all the endeavour of a man,
In speed to *Mantua*, see thou render this

Into my Coufin's hand, *Doctor Bellaria*,

And look what notes and garments he doth give thee,
Bring them I pray thee with imagin'd speed

Unto the Tranect, to the common Ferrie
Which trades to *Venice*; wafe no time in words,
But get thee gone, I shall be there before thee.

Bal. Madam, I go with all convenient speed.

Po. Come on *Nerriffa*, I have work in hand
That you yet know not of, we'll see our husbands
Before they think of us?

Ner. Shall they see us?

Por. They shall *Nerriffa*: but in such a habit,

That they shall think we are accomplished

With that we lack; I'le hold thee any wager

When we are both accoutred like young men,
I'le prove the prettiest fellow of the two,

And wear my Dagger with the braver grace,
And speak between the change of man and boy,

With a reed voyce, and turn two mincing steps
Into a manly stride, and speak of frayes

Like a fine bragging youth; and tell quaint lies

How honourable Ladies fought my love,

Which I denying, they fell fiek and died.

I could not do withall: then I'le repent,

And wifh for all that, that I had not kill'd them ;

And twenty of these puny lies I'le tell

That men shall fwear I have discontinued schoole
Above a twelvemoneth: I have within my minde

A thousand raw tricks of these bragging Jacks,
Which I will practice.

Ner. Why, shall we turn to men?

Por. Fie, what a question's that,

If thou wert near a leud interpreter?

But come, I'le tell thee all my whole device

When I am in my Coach, which stayes for us

At the Parke Gate; and therefore haſte away,

For we must meaſure twenty miles to day.

Exeunt.

Enter Clown and Ieflica.

Clown. Yes truly; for look you, the fins of the Father

are to be laid upon the children, therefore I promife you,
I fear you, I was always plain with you, and so now I
speak my agitation of the matter: therefore be of good
cheer, for truly I think you are damn'd, there is but one
hope in it that can doe you any good, and that is but a
kind of baſtard hope neither.

Ief. And what hope is that I pray thee?

Clow. Marry you may partly hope that your father
got you not, that you are not the Jew's Daughter.

Ief. That were a kind of baſtard hope indeed, so the fins of my Mother should be visited upon me.

Clow. Truly then I fear you are damned both by Father and Mother, thus when I shun *Scilla* your Father, I fall into *Charibdis* your Mother; well, you are gone both wayes.

Ief. I shall be fav'd by my Husband, he hath made me a Christian.

Clow. Truly the more to blame he, we were Chriſtians enow before, e'ne as many as could well live one by another: this making of Chriſtians will raiſe the price of Hogs, if we grow all to be Porke-eaters, we shall not shortly have a rafher on the coales for money.

Enter Lorenzo.

Ief. I'le tell my Husband *Lancelet* what you say, here he comes.

Lor. I shall grow jealous of you shortly *Lancelet*, if you thus get my Wife into corners?

Ief. Nay you need not fear us *Lorenzo*, *Lancelet* and I are out, he tells me flatly there is no mercy for me in heaven, because I am a Jewe's daughter: and he fayes you are no good member of the common-wealth, for in converting Jewes to Chriſtians, you raiſe the price of Porke.

Lor. I shall anſwer that better to the Common-wealth
than you can the getting up of the Negroes belly: the
Moore is with Childe by you *Lancelet*.

Clow. It is much that the Moore ſhould be more then reaſon: but if she be Ieſſe then an honest woman, ſhe is indeed more then I took her for.

Lor. How every fool can play upon the word, I think
the best grace of wit will shortly turn into ſlence, and
discourſe grow commendable in none onely but Parrats:
go in ſirra, bid them prepare for dinner?

Clow. That is done fir, they have all ſtomacks?

Lor. Goodly Lord, what a wit-fnapper are you, then
bid them prepare dinner.

Clow. That is done too fir, onely cover is the word.

Lor. Will you cover then fir?

Clow. Not so fir neither, I know my duty.

Lor. Yet more quarrelling with occasion, wit thou
thew the whole wealth of thy wit in an inſant; I pray
thee understand a plain man in his plain meaning: go
to thy fellows, bid them cover the table, serve in the meat
and we will come in to dinner.

Clow. For the table fir, it ſhall be ſerv'd in, for the
meat fir, it ſhall be covered, for your coming in, to diu-
ner fir, why let it be as humours and conceits, ſhall go-
vern.

Exit Clown.

Lor. O dear diſcretion, how his words are ſuted,
The fool hath planted in his memory.

An Army of good words, and I doe know

A many fools that stand in better place,
Garniſht like him, that for a trickſe word

Defie the matter: how cheerſt thou *Jeflica*,
And now good ſweet ſay thy opinion,

How

The Merchant of Venice.

178

How doft thou like the Lord *Baffanio's* wife ?

*Jef.* Paft all expreffing, it is very meet

The Lord *Baffanio* live an upright life
For having such a bleffing in his Lady,
He findes the joyes of heaven here on earth,
And if on earth he doe not mean it, it
Is reafon he ſhould never come to heaven ?

Why, if two gods ſhould play fome heavenly match,
And on the wager lay two earthly women,
And Portia one ; there muſt be ſomething eſſe
Pawn'd with the other, for the poor rude world
Hath not her fellow.

*Lo.* Even ſuch a husband

Haſt thou of me, as he is for a wife,

*Jef.* Nay, but aske my opinion too of that ?

*Lor.* I will anon, firſt let us go to dinner ?

*Jef.* Nay, let me prieſe you while I have a ſtomack ?

*Lor.* No pray thee, let it ſerve for table talke,

Then howſom ere thou ſpeak'st 'mong other things,
I ſhall digest it ?

*Jef.* Weli, I'll eſt you forth.

Ekeunt.

Actus Quartus.

Enter the Duke, the Magnificoes, Anthonio, Baffanio, and Gratiano.

*Duk.* What, is *Anthony* here?

*Ant.* Ready, to prieſe your grace ?

*Du.* I am forry for thee, thou art come to anſwer

A ſtony adversary, an inhumane wretch,
Uncapable of pitty, void, and empty
From any dramme of mercy.

*Ant.* I have heard

Your grace hath tane great pains to qualifie
His rigorous courſe : but ſince he ſtands obdurate,
And that no lawfull means can carry me
Out of his envies reach, I doe oppoſe
My patience to his fury, and am arm'd
To ſuffer with a quietneſſe of ſpirit,
The very tiranny and rage of his.

*Du.* Go one and call the Jew into the Court.

*Sal.* He is ready at the door, he comes my Lord.

Enter Shylocks.

*Du.* Make room, and let him stand before our face.

*Shylocks*, the world thinks, and I think so too,
That thou but lead'st this ſaſhion of thy malice
To the laſt hour of aCT, and then 'tis thought
Thou'lt ſhew thy mercy and remorſe more ſtrange,
Than is thy ſtrange apparent cruelty,
And where thou now exaſt'ft the penalty,
Which is a pound of this poor Merchant's ſleſh,
Thou wilt not onely looſe the forfeiture,
But touch'd with humane gentlenesse and love,
Forgive a moiety of the principall,
Glancing an eye of pitty on his loſſes
That have of late ſo hudled on his back,
Enow to prieſe a royall Merchant down ;
And pluck commiſeration of his ſtate
From braſſe boſomes, and rough hearts of flint,
From ſtubbom Turks and Tarters never traind

To offiees of tender courſeſe,
We all expect a gentle anſwer *Jew* ?

*Jew.* I have poffeſt your grace of what I purpose,
And by our holy Sabbath have I ſworn
To have the due and forfeit of my bond,
If you deny it, let the danger light
Upon your Charter, and your Cities freedome,
You'll aske me why I rather chooſe to have
A weight of carrion ſleſh, then to receive
Three thouſand Ducats ? I'le not anſwer that :
But ſay it is my humour ; Is it anſwered ?
What if my houſe be troubled with a Rat,
And I be pleas'd to give ten thouſand Ducats
To have it bain'd ? What, are you anſwer'd yet ?

Some men there are love not a gaping Pigge :
Some that are mad, if they behold a Cat :

And others, when the Bag-pipe ſings i'th' noſe,
Cannot contain their Urine for affection.

Masters of paffion ſwayes it to the mood
Of what it likes or loathes, now for your anſwer :

As there is no firm reaſon to be redrend

Why he cannot abide a gaping Pigge ?

Why he a harmleſſe neceſſary Cat ?

Why he a woollen Bag-pipe : but of force

Muſt yield to ſuch inevitable ſhame,

As to offend himſelf being offended :

So can I give no reaſon, nor I will nor,
More then a lodg'd hate, and a certain loathing
I bear *Anthony*, that I follow thus

A loofing ſuit againſt him ? Are you anſwered ?

*Baf.* This is no anſwer thou unfeeling man,
To excufe the current of thy cruelty.

*Jew.* I am not bound to prieſe thee with my anſwer,

*Baf.* Doe all men kill the thing they do not love?

*Jew.* Hates any man the thing he would not kill ?

*Baf.* Every offence is not a hate at firſt.

*Jew.* What, would'ſt thou have a Serpent ſting thee twice?

*Ant.* I pray you think you queſtion with a *Jew* :
You may as well go ſtand upon the beach,
And bid the main flood be at his uſuall height,
Or even as well uſe queſtion with the *Wolfe*,
The Ewe bleat for the Lamb: when you behold,
You may as well forbid the Mountain Pines
To wagge their high tops, and to make no noife
When they are fretted with the guſts of heaven :
You may as well doe any thing moſt hard,
As seek to soften that, than which what harder ?
His *Jewiſh* heart. Therefore I doe beſeech you
Make no more offers, uſe no farther meanes,
But with all brief and plain conveniency
Let me have judgement, and the *Jew* his will.

*Baf.* For thy three thouſand Ducats here is ſix.

*Jew.* If every Ducat in ſix thouſand Ducats
Were in ſix parts, and every part a Ducat,
I would not draw them, I would have my bond ?

*Du.* How ſhalt thou hope for mercy, rendring none?
*Jew.* What judgement shall I dread doing no wrong?
You have among you many a purchaſ'd ſlave,
Which like your Aſſes, and your Dogs and Mules,
You uſe in abjeſt and in flaviſh part,
Because you bought them. Shall I ſay to you,
Let them be free, marry them to your heirs ?

Why (wreat they under burthens) Let their beds
Be made as ſoſt as yours: and let their pallats
Be beſeaf'd with ſuch Viands: you will anſwer

The

The Merchant of Venice.

The flaves are ours. So doe I anſwer you.
The pound of flesh which I demand of him
Is clearly bought, 'tis mine, and I will have it.
If you deny me, ſie upon your Law,
There is no force in the decrees of Venice ;
I ſtand for judgement, anſwer, ſhall I have it ?

Du. Upon my power I may dismiſſe this Court,
Unleſſe Bellario a learned Doctor,
Whom I have ſent for to determine this,
Come here to day.

Sal. My Lord, here ſtayes without
A Meſſenger with Letters from the Doctor,
New come from Padua.

Du. Bring us the Letters, Call the Meſſengers.
Baf. Good, cheer Anthonio. What man, courage yet :
The Jew ſhall have my flesh, blood, bones, and all,
Ere thou ſhalt looke for me one drop of blood.

Ant. I am a tainted Weather of the flock,
Meeted for death, the weakeſt kind of fruit
Drops earlieſt to the ground, ſo let me ;
You cannot better be employ'd Baffanio,
Then to live ſtill, and write mine Epitaph.

Enter Neriffa.
? Du. Came you from Padua from Bellario ?
Ner. From both.

My Lord Bellario greets your Grace.

Baf. Why doſt thou whet thy knife ſo earneſtly?

Iew. To cut the forfeiture from that bankroſt there.

Gra. Not on thy foale, but on thy foul harſh Jew
Thou mak'st thy knife keen: but no miterall can,
No, not the hangmans Axe bear half the keenneſſe
Of thy harp envy. Can no prayers pierce thee ?

Iew. No, none that thou haſt wit enough to make.

Gra. O be thou damn'd inexorable dog,

And for thy life let juſtice be accus'd :

Thou almoſt mak'st me waver in my faith :

To hold opinion with Pythagoras,

That fouls of animals infufe themſelves

Into the trunks of men. Thy curriſh ſpirit

Govern'd a Woolſ, who hang'd for humane ſlaughter,
Even from the Gallows did ſell his ſoul fleet ;
And whil't thou layeth in thy unhallowed Damme,
Infus'd it ſelf in thee : For thy deſires
Are Woolviſh, bloody, ſtert'd, and ravenous.

Iew. Till thou canſt rail the ſeal from off my bond :
Thou but offend't thy Lungs to ſpeak ſo loud:
Repair thy wit good youth, or it will fall
To endleſſe ruine. I ſand here for Law.

Du. This Letter from Bellario doth commend
A young and Learned Doctor in our Court ;
Where is he ?

Ner. He attendeth here hard by

To know your anſwer, whether you'll admit him.

Du. With all my heart. Some three or four of you
Go give him courteous conduct to this place,
Mean time the Court ſhall hear Bellario's Letter.

YOur Grace ſhall understand, that at the receit of your
Letter I am very ſick: but in the instant that your
meſſenger came, in loving viſitation was with me a young
Doctor of Rome, his name is Balthaſar : I acqnaimed
him with the Cafe in controveſie, between the Iew and
Anthonio the Merchant: We turn'd ore many Books to-
gether : he is ſ furnished with my opinion, which bettered
with his own learning, the greatneſſe whereof I cannot

enough commend, comes with him at my importunity, to
fill up your Graces request in my ſtead. I beſeech you, let
his lack of yeares be no impediment to let him lack a re-
verend estimation: for I never knew so young a body, with
so old a head. I leave him to your gracious acceptance,
whose triall shall better publish his commendation.

Enter Portia for Balthaſar
Du. You hear the learn'd Bellario what he writes,
And here (I take it) is the Doctor come.
Give me your hand: Come you from old Bellario ?

Por. I did my Lord.

Du. You are welcome : take your place ;

Are you acquainted with the difference

That holds this preſent queſtion in the Court.

Por. I am inſormed throughly of the Cafe.

Which is the Merchant here ? and which the Jew ?

Du. Anthonio and old Shylocks, both ſtand forth.

Por. Is your name Shylocke.

Iew. Shylocks is my name.

Por. Of a ſtrange nature is the fute you follow,

Yet in ſuch rule, that the Venetian Law

Cannot impugne you as you do proceed.

You ſtand within his danger, doe you not ?

Ant. I, ſo he fayes.

Por. Doe you confefſe the bond?

An. I doe.

Por. Then muſt the Jew be merciſul.

Iew. On what compulſion muſt I ? Tell me that.

Por. The quality of mercy is not ſtrain'd,

It droppeth as the gentle rain from heaven

Upon the place beneath. It is twice bleſſt,

It bleſſeth him that gives, and him that takes,

'Tis mightieſt in the mightieſt, it becomes

The throned Monarch better than his Crown,

His Scepter ſhewes the force of temporall power,

The attribute to awe and Majefity,

Wherein doth fit the dread and fear of Kings :

But mercy is above this ſcpreſt ſway,

It is enthroned in the hearts of Kings,

It is an attribute to God himſelf ;

And earthly power doth then ſhew likeſt Gods

When mercy ſeafons Juſtice. Therefore Jew,

Though Juſtice be thy plea, confider this,

That in the courſe of Juſtice, none of us

Should fee ſalvation : we doe pray for mercy,

And that fame prayer, doth teach us all to render

The deeds of mercy. I have ſpoke thus much

To mitigate the juſtice of thy plea :

Which if thou follow, this striet courſe of Venice

Muſt needs give ſentence againſt the Merchant there.

Shy. My deeds upon my head, I crave the Law,
The penalty and forfeit of my bond.

Por. Is he not able to diſcharge the money ?

Baf. Yes, here I tender it for him in the Court,

Yea, twice the ſumm'e, if that will not ſuffice,

I will be bound to pay it ten times o're,

On forfeit of my hands, my head, my heart :

If this will not ſuffice, it muſt appear

That malice beares down truth. And I beſeech you

Wreſt once the Law to your authority.

To doe a great right, doe a little wrong.

And curbe this cruell devil of his will.

Por. It muſt not be, there is no power in Venice
Can alter a decree eſtabliſhed :
'Twill be recorded for a Prefident,

And

["The Merchant of Venice.", "180", "And many an errour by the fame example;\nWill ruſh into the state: It cannot be.", "Iew. A Daniel come to judgement, yea a Daniel.", "O wife young Judge, how doe I honour thee.", "Por. I pray you look upon the bond.", "Iew. Here 'tis moſt reverend Doctor, here it is.", "Por. Shylocke, ther's thrice thy money offered thee.", "Shy. An oath, an oath, I have an oath in heaven :", "Shall I lay perjury upon my Soul?", "No not for Venice.", "Por. Why this bond is forfeit,", "And lawfully by this the Jew may claime", "A pound of fleth, to be by him cut off", "Neareft the Merchants heart; be merciful,", "Take thrice thy money, bid me tear the bond.", "Iew. When it is paid according to the tenure.", "It doth appear you are a worthy Judge :", "You know the Law, your expofition", "Hath been moſt found. I charge you by the Law,", "Whereof you are a well-deferving pillar,", "Proceed to judgement : By my foul I ſwear,", "There is no power in the tongue of man", "To alter me: I ſtay here on my bond.", "An. Moſt heartily I doe beſech the Court", "To give the judgement.", "Por. Why then thus it is :", "You muſt prepare your boſome for his knife.", "Iew. O noble Judge, O excellent young man.", "Por. For the intent and purpofe of the Law", "Hath full relation to the penalty,", "Which here appeareth due upon the bond.", "Iew. 'Tis very true : O wife and upright Judge,", "How much more elder art thou then thy looks ?", "Por. Therefore lay bare your boſome.", "Iew. I, his breſt,", "So ſayes the bond, doth not noble Judge ?", "Neareſt his heart, thate are the very words.", "Por. It is ſo : Are there balance here to weigh the\nfleth ?", "Iew. I have them ready.", "Por. Have by ſome Surgeon, Shylocke, on your charge\nTo ſtop his wounds, leaſt he should bleed to death.", "Iew. It is not nominated in the bond ?", "Por. It is not ſo expreſſ : but what of that ?", "'Twere good you doe ſo much for charity.", "Iew. I cannot find it, 'tis not in the bond.", "Por. Come Merchant, have you any thing to ſay,", "Ant. But little : I am arm'd and well prepar'd,", "Give me your hand Baffanio, fare you well.", "Grieve not that I am ſaln to this for you :", "For herein fortune ſhewes her ſelf more kind", "Then is his cuſtome. It is ſtill her uſe", "To let the wretched man out-live his wealth,", "To view with hollow eye, and wrinkled brow", "An age of poverty. From which lingring penance", "Of ſuch a miſery, doth the cut me off :", "Commend me to your honourable Wife,", "Tell her the proceſſe of Anthonio's end :", "Say how I lov'd you ; ſpeak me fair in death :", "And when the tale is told, bid her be judge,", "Whether Baffanio had not once a Love :", "Repet not you that you ſhall loſe your friend,", "And he repents not that he payes your debts,", "For if the Jew doe cut but deep enough,", "I'le pay it instantly, with all my heart.", "Baf. Anthonio, I am married to a wife,", "Which is as dear to me as life it ſelf,", "But life it ſelf, my wife and all the world,", "Are not with me eſteem'd above thy life.", "I would loſe all, I ſacrifice them all", "Here to this devil, to deliver you.", "Por. Your wife would give you little thanks for that,", "If ſhe were by to hear you make the offer.", "Gra. I have a Wife whom I proteſt I love,", "I would ſhe were in heaven, ſo ſhe could", "Intreat ſome power to change this curriſh Jew.", "Ner. 'Tis well you offer it behind her back,", "The wif would make eſſe an unquiet house.", "(ter", "Iew. These be the Chriſtian husbands: I have a daugh-", "Would any of the flock of Barrabas", "Had been her husband, rather then a Chriſtian.", "We trifle time, I pray thee purſue ſentence.", "Por. A pound of that fame Merchants fleth is thine,\nThe Court awards it, and the law doth give it.", "Iew. Moſt rightfull Judge.", "Por. And you muſt cut this fleth from off his breaſt,\nThe Law allows it, and the Court awards it.", "Iew. Moſt learned Judge, a ſentence, come prepare,", "Por. Tarry a little, there is ſomething eſſe,", "This bond doth give thee here no jot of cloud,", "The words expreſſely are a pound of fleth :", "Then take thy bond, take thou thy pound of fleſh,", "But in the cutting it, if thou doſt ſhed", "One drop of Chriſtian blood, thy lands and goods", "Are by the Lawes of Venice confiſcate", "Unto the State of Venice,", "Gra. O upright Judge,", "Mark Jew, O learned Judge,", "Shy. Is that the law ?", "Por. Thy ſelf ſhalt fee the A&c :", "For as thou 时候 ſtice, be aſſur'd", "Thou ſhalt have juſtice more then thou deſuſet.", "Gra. O learned Judge, mark Jew, a learned Judge.", "Iew. I take this offer then, pay the bond thrice.", "And let the Chriſtian go.", "Baf. Here is the money.", "Por. Soft, the Jew ſhall have all juſtice, ſoft, no haſte,\nHe ſhall have nothing but the penalty.", "Gra. O Jew, an upright Judge, a learned Judge.", "Por. Therefore prepare thee to cut off the fleſh,", "Shed thou no blood, nor cut the leſſe nor more", "But juſt a pound of fleth : if thou tak'st more", "Or leſſe then a juſt pound, be it ſo much", "As makes it light or heavy in the subſtance,", "Or the divifion of the twentieth part", "Of one poor ſeuple, nay if the ſcale do ſum turn", "But in the eſtimation of a hair,", "Thou dieſt, and all thy goods are confiſcate.", "Gra. A ſecond Daniel, a Daniel Jew,", "Now infidel I have thee on the hip.", "Por. Why doth the Jew paſſe, take thy forſeiture.", "Shy. Give me my principall, and let me go.", "Baf. I have it ready for thee, here it is.", "Por. He hath refus'd it in the open Court,", "He ſhall have meerly juſtice and his bond,", {"bbox": [684, 1198, 973, 1220], "category":

The Merchant of Venice.

181

Por. Tarry Jew,
The Law hath yet another hold on you.
It is enacted in the Lawes of Venice,
If it be proved against an Alien,
That by direct, or indirect attempts
He seek the life of any Citizen,
The party 'gainst the which he doth contrive,
Shall feize one half his goods, the other half
Comes to the privy Coffer of the State,
And the offenders life lies in the mercy
Of the Duke only, 'gainst all other voyce.
In which predicament I fay thou ſtandt :
For it appeares by manifeft proceeding,
That indirectly, and directly too
Thou had contriv'd againſt the very life
Of the defendant : and thou haſt incur'd
The danger formerly by me rehearſt.
Down therefore, and beg mercy of the Duke.
Gra. Beg that thou maſſe have leave to hang thy ſelf,
And yet thy wealth being forfeit to the ſtate,
Thou haſt not left the value of a cord,
Therefore thou muſt be hang'd at the ſtates charge.
Duk. That thou ſhalt fee the difference of our ſpirit,
I pardon thee thy life before thou aske it :
For half thy wealth, it is Anthonio's :
The other halfe comes to the generall ſtate,
Which humbleneſſe may drive unto a fine.
Por. I, for the ſtate, not for Anthonio.
Shy. Nay, take my life and all, pardon not that,
You take my house, when you doe take the prop
That doth ſuſtain my house : you take my life
When you doe take the meanses whereby I live.
Por. What mercy can you render him Anthonio?
Gra. A Halter Gratis, nothing else for God's ſake.
An. So please my Lord the Duke, and all the Court
To quit the fine for one half of his goods,
I am content : so he will let me have
The other halfe in uſe, to render it
Upon his death, unto the Gentleman
That lately ſtole his daughter.
Two things provided more, that for this favour
He prefently become a Chriſtian :
The other, that he doe record a gift
Here in the Court of all he dies poffeſt
Unto his Son Lorenzo, and his Daughter.
Dnk. He ſhall do this, or eſſe I doe retant
The pardon that I late pronounced here.
Por. Art thou contented Jew ? what doſt thou ſay ?
Shy. I am content.
Por. Clarke, draw a deed of gift.
Shy. I pray you give me leave to go from hence
I am not well, end the deed after me,
And I will ſign it.
Duk. Get thee gone, but doe it.
Gra. In Chriſtning thou ſhalt have two Godfatheas,
Had I been Judge, thou ſhouldſt have had ten more,
To bring thee to the Gallows, not to the Font. Exit.
Duk. Sir, I entreat you with me home to dinner.
Por. I humbly doe ſeure your Grace of pardon,
I muſt away this night toward Padua,
And that I preſently ſet forth.
Duk. I am forſory that your lifeſure ſerves you not :
Anthonio gratiſe this Gentleman,
For in my mind, you are much bound to him.
Exit Duke and his train.
Baſ. Moſt worthy Gentleman, I and my friend

Have by your wifedome been this day acquitted
Of grievous penalties, in lieu whereof
Three thouſand Ducats due unto the Jew
We freely cope your courteous pains withall.
Ant. And ſtand indebted over and above
In love and ſervice to you evermore.
Por. He is well paid that is well ſatisfied,
And I delivering you, am ſatisfied,
And therein doe account my ſelf well paid.
My mind was never yet more meiſerious.
I pray you know me when we meet again,
I wifh you well, and so I take my leave.
Baſ. Dear fir, of force I muſt attempt you further,
Take ſome remembrance of us as a tribute,
Not as a fee : grant me two things, I pray you
Not to deny me, and to pardon me.
Por. You preſſe me far, and therefore I will yield,
Give me your Gloves, I'le wear them for your ſake,
And for your love I'le take this Ring from you,
Doe not draw back your hand, I'le take no more,
And you in love ſhall not deny me this?
Baſ. This Ring good fir, alaſ it is a trifle,
I will not ſhame my ſelf to give you this.
Por. I will have nothing eſſe but only this,
And now me thinks I have a mind to it.
Baſ. There's more depends on this then on the value,
The deareſt Ring in Venice will I give you,
And find it out by proclamation,
O-only for this I pray you pardon me.
Por. I fee fir you are liberall in offers,
You taught me ſieft to beg, and now me thinks
You teach me how a beggar should be anſwer'd.
Baſ. Good fir, this Ring was given me by my Wife,
And when the put it on, the made me vow
That I ſhould neither ſell, nor give, nor lobe it.
Por. That ſeſſe ſerves many men to ſave their gifts,
And if your Wife be not a mad woman,
And know how well I have deſerv'd this Ring,
She would not hold out enemy for ever
For giving it to me : well, peace be with you. Exeunt.
Ant. My Lord Baffanio, let him have the Ring,
Let his deſervings and my love withall
Be valued againſt your Wives commandement.
Baſ. Go Gratiano, run and overtake him,
Give him the Ring, and bring him if thou canſt
Unto Anthonio's house, away, make haſte. Exit Grat.
Come; you and I will thither presently,
And in the morning early will we both
Flie toward Belmont, come Anthonio. Exeunt.

Enter Portia and Nerriffa.
Por. Enquire the Jews houſe out, give him this deed,
And let him ſign it, we'll away to night,
And be a day before our Husbands home.
This deed will be well welcome to Lorenzo.

Enter Gratiano.
Gra. Fair fir, you are well o'retane:
My Lord Baffanio upon more advice,
Hath ſent you here this Ring, and doth entreat
Your company at dinner.
Por. That cannot be ;
His Ring I doe accept moſt thankfully,
And so I pray you tell him: furthermore,
I pray you ſhow my youth old Shylock's house.
Grati. That will I doe.
Ner. Sir, I would speak with you :

The Merchant of Venice.

182

I'le fee if I can get my Husbands Ring

Which I did make him fwear to keep for ever.

Por. Thou maist I warrant, we shall have old fwearling
That they did give the Rings away to men;
But we'll out-face them, and out-fwear them too :
Away, make haſte, thou know'ſt where I will tarry.

Ner. Come good fir, will you then me to this house.

Exeunt.

Actus Quintus.

Enter Lorenzo and Jeſſica.

Lor. The Moon ſhines bright. In ſuch a night as this,
When the ſweet wind did gently kiffle the trees,
And they did make no noy ſe : in ſuch a night
Troylus me thinks mounted the Troyan wall,
And ſigh'd his ſoul toward the Grecian tents
Where Crefled lay that night

Jef. In ſuch a night.

Did Thisibie fearfully o're-trip the dew,
And saw the Lyons ſhadow ere himself,
And ran diſmayed away.

Loren. In ſuch a night

Stood Dido with a Willow in her hand
Upon the wild Sea banks, and waſt her Love
To come again to Carthage.

Jef. In ſuch a night

Medea gathered the enchanted herbs
That did renew old Eſon.

Loren. In ſuch a night

Dd Jeſſica feal from the wealthy Jew,
And with an Unthrift Love did run from Venice,
As far as Belmont.

Jef. In ſuch a night.

Did young Lorenzo ſwear he lovd her well,
Stealing her ſoul with many vowes of faith,
And ne're a true one.

Loren. In ſuch a night

Did pretty Jeſſica (like a little ſhrow)
Slander her Love, and he forgave it her.

Iſe. I would out-night you did no body come :
But hark, I hear the footing of a man.

Enter Meſſenger.

Lor. Who comes ſo faſt in ſilence of the night?

Mef. A friend.

(friend?)

Loren. A friend, what friend, your name I pray you

Mef. Stephano is my name, and I bring word

My Miftreſſe will before the break of day

Be here at Belmont, the doth ſtray about

By holy croſſes, where the kneels and prays

For happy wedlock houres.

Loren. Who comes with her?

Mef. None but a holy Hermit and her maid,
I pray you is my Maſter yet return'd?

Loren. He is not, nor we have not heard from him,
But go we in I pray thee Jeſſica,

And ceremoniouſly let us prepare

Some welcome for the Miftreſſe of the house.

Enter Clown.

Clow. Sola, ſola : wo ha ho, ſola, ſola.

Loren. Who calls?

Clo. Sola, did you fee M. Lorenzo, and Mrs. Lorenza,

Lor. Leave hollowing man, here.

(fola, ſola.)

Clo. Sola, where, where ?

Lor. Here?

Clo. Tell him there's a Poſt come from my Maſter,
with his horn full of good newes, my Maſter will be here
erre morning ſweet love.

Loren. Let's in, and there expeſt their comming.
And yet no matter : why ſhould we go in ?

My friend Stephano ſignifie pray you
Within the houſe, your Miftreſſe is at hand,
And bring your muſick forth into the aire.
How ſweet the Moon-light ſleeps upon this bank,
Here will we fit, and let the ſounds of Muſick
Creep in our eares ; ſoft ſtilneſſe, and the night
Become the tuches of ſweet harmony :
Sit Jeſſica, looke how the floor of heaven
Is thick inlayed with patterns of bright gold,
There's not the ſmallest orbe which thou behold'ſt
But in his motion like an Angel ſings,
Still quiring to the young cyed Cherubims ;
Such harmony is in immortall ſouls,
But whilſt this muddy veſture of decay
Doth groſſy cloſe in it, we cannot hear it :
Come hoe, and wake Diana with a hymne,
With sweeteſt tuches pierce your Miftreſſe eare,
And draw her home with Muſick.

Iſ. I am never merry when I hear ſweet Muſick.

Play Muſick.

Lor. The reaſon is, your ſpirits are attentive:
For doe but note a wild and wanton herd
Or race of youthfull and unhandled colts,
Fatching mad bounds, bellowing and neighing loud,
Which is the hot condition of their blood,
If they but hear perchance a trumpet ſound,
Or any ſyre of Muſick touch their eares,
You ſhall perceive them make a mutuall ſtand.
Their ſavage eyes turn'd to a modèt gaze
By the ſweet power of muſick : therefore the Poet
Did fain that Orpheus drew ſeames, ſtones, and floods.
Since naught ſo ſtockiſh, hard, and full of rage,
But muſick for the time doth change his nature :
The man that hath no Muſick in himſelf,
Nor is not moved with concord of ſweet ſounds,
Is fit for treaſons, ſtratagems, and ſpoyles,
The motions of his ſpirit are dull as night,
And his affections darke as Erebus,
Let no ſuch man be truſted : marke the Muſick.

Enter Portia and Nerriffa.

Por. That light we fee is burning in my hail :
How farre that little candle throws his beames,
So ſhines a good deed in a naughty world.

(die?)

Ner. When the Moon ſhone, we did not fee the can-
Por. So doth the greater glory dim the Ieſſe,

A ſubſitute ſhines brightly as a King
Untill a King be by, and then his ſtate
Empties it ſelf, as doth an inland brook
Into the main of waters : muſick, hark.

Muſick.

Ner. It is your muſick Madam of the house.

Por. Nothing is good I fee without reſpect,
Me thinks it ſounds much ſweeter then by day ?

Ner. Silence beſtowes that virtue on it: Madam,

Por. The Crow doth ſing as wiftely as the Larke

When

The Merchant of Venice.

183

When neither is attended : and I think
The Nightingale if she should sing by day
When every Goode is cackling, would be thought
No better a Musician then the Wren ?
How many things by seafon, seafon'd are,
To their right praise, and true perfection :
Peace, how the Moon sleeps with Endimion,
And would not be awak'd.

Musick caesens.

Lor. That is the voyce,
Or I am much deceiv'd of Portia.

Por. He knows me as the blind man knows the Cuckow by the bad voyce.

Lor. Dear Lady welcome home.

Por. We have been praying for our husbands welfare,
Which speed we hope the better for our words,
Are they return'd ?

Lor. Madam, they are not yet :

But there is come a Melfenger before
To signifie their comming.

Por. Go in Neriffa,

Give order to my fervants, that they take
No note at all of our being absent hence,
Nor you Lorenza, Jessica nor you.

A Tucket founds.

Lor. Your husband is at hand, I hear his Trumpet,
We are no tell-tales Madam, fear you not.

Por. This night me thinks is but the day-light sick

It looks a little paler, 'tis a day :

Such as the day is, when the Sun is hid.

Enter Baffanio, Antonio, Gratiano, and their
Followers.

Baf. We should hold day with the Antipodes,
If you would walkie in abfence of the Sun.

Por. Let me give light, but let me not be light,
For a light Wife doth make a heavy Husband,
And never be Baffanio so from me,
But God forf all : you are welcome home my Lord.

Baf. I thank you Madam, give welcome to my friend,
This is the man, this is Antonio,
To whom I am so infinitely bound.

Por. You should in allence be much bound to him,

For as I hear he was much bound for you.

Ant. No more then I am well acquitted of,

Por. Sir, you are very welcome to our house :

It must appear in other wayes then words,
Therefore I cant this breathing courtesie.

Gra. By yonder Moon I wear you doe me wrong,
Infaith I gave it to the Judges Clerk,
Would he were gilt that had it for my part,
Since you doe take it, Love, so much at heart.

Por. A quarrell hoe already, what's the matter ?

Gra. About a hoop of Gold, a paltry Ring

That he did give me, whose Poefie was

For all the world like Cutlers Poetrie
Upon a Knife; Love me, and leave me not.

Ner. What talkes you of the Poefie or the value

You fware to me when I did give it you,
That you would wear it till the hour of death,
And that it should lie with you in your grave,
Though not for me, yet for your venement oathes,
You should have been respective and have kept it.
Gave it a Judges Clerk : but well I know
The Clerk will ne're wear hair on's face that had it.

Gra. He will, and if he live to be a man.

Ner. If, if a woman live to be a man.

Gra. Now by this hand I gave it to a youth,
A kind of boy, a little scrubbed boy,
No higher then thy self, the Judges Clerk,
A prating boy that begg'd it as a Fee,
I could not for my heart deny it him.

Por. You were too blame, I must be plain with you,
To part so slightly with your wives first gift,
A thing stuck on with oaths upon your finger,
And for riveted with faith unto your flesh,
I gave my Love a Ring, and made him swear
Never to part with it, and here he stands :
I dare be fworn to him, he would not leave it,
Nor pluck it from his finger, for the wealth
That the world masters. Now in faith Gratiano,
You give your wife too unkind a cause of grief,
And 'twere to me I should be mad at it.

Baf. Why I were beft to cut my left hand off,
And swear I loft the Ring defending it.

Gra. My Lord Baffanio gave his Ring away
Unto the Judge that begg'd it, and indeed
Deferv'd it too : and then the boy his Clerk
That took some pains in writing, he begg'd mine,
And neither man nor master would take ought
But the two Rings.

Por. What Ring gave you my Lord ?
Nor that, I hope, which you receiv'd of me.

Baf. If I could addde a lye unto a fault,
I would deny it : but you fee my finger
Hath not the Ring upon it, it is gone.

Por. And even so void is your false heart of truth,
By heaven I will ne're come in your bed
Untill I fee the Ring.

Ner. Nor I in yours, till I again fee mine.

Baf. Sweet Portia,

If you did know to whom I gave the Ring,
If you did know for whom I gave the Ring,
And would conceive for what I gave the Ring,
And how unwillingly I left the Ring,
When nought would be accepted but the Ring,
You would abate the strength of your displeasure ?

Por. If you had known the virtue of the Ring,
Or half her worthineffe that gave the Ring,
Or your own honour to contain the Ring,
You would not then have parted with the Ring :
What man is there so much unreasonable,
If you had pleas'd to have defended it
With any tearmes of Zeale: wanted the modesty
Tourge the thing held as a ceremony :
Neriffa teaches me what to believe,
I'le die for't, but fome Woman had the Ring?

Baf. No by mine honour Madam, by my foul
No woman had it, but a civil Doctor,
Which did refuse three thousand Ducats of me,
And begg'd the Ring; the which I did deny him,
And suffer'd him to go displeas'd away :
Even he that had held up the very life
Of my dear friend. What should I fay, sweet Lady ?
I was infore'd to lend it after him,
I was beſet with ſhame and courtesie,
My honour would not let ingatitude
So much befear it. Pardon me good Lady,
And by these bleſſed Candles of the night,
Had you been there, I think you would have begg'd
The Ring of me, to give thee worthy Doctor.

Q 2

Por.

The Merchant of Venice.

184

Por. Let not that Doctor e're come near my house,
Since he hath got the Jewell that I loved,
And that which you did wear to keep for me,
I will become as liberall as you,
I'le not deny him any thing I have,
No, not my body, nor my husbands bed:
Know him I shall, I am well fure of it.
Lie not a night from home. Watch me like Argus,
If you doe not, if I be left alone,
Now by mine honour which is yet mine own,
I'le have the Doctor for my bedfellow.

Ner. And I his Clerk: therefore be well advis'd
How you doe leave me to mine own protection.
Gra. Well, doe you so: let not me take him then,

For if I doe, I'le marre the young Clerks pen.

Ant. I am th' unhappy subject of these quarrells.

Por. Sir, grieve not you,

You are welcome notwithstanding.

Baf. Portia, forgive me this enforced wrong,
And in the hearing of these many friends

I wear to thee, even by thine own fair eyes
Wherein I see my self.

Por. Mark you but that?

In both mine eyes he doubly fees himself:
In each eye one, wear by your double self,
And there's an oath of credit.

Baf. Nay, but hear me.

Pardon this fault, and by my foul I wear
I never more will break an oath with thee.

Anth. I once did lend my body for thy wealth,
Which but for him that had your husbands Ring
Had quite miscarried. I dare be bound again,
My foul upon the forfeit, that your Lord
Will never more break faith advisely.

Por. Then you shall be his furety : give him this,
And bid him keep it better then the other.

Ant. Here Lord Baffanio, wear to keep this Ring.

Baf. By heaven it is the fame I gave the Doctor.

Por. I had it of him : pardon Baffanio,
For by this Ring the Doctor lay with me.

Ner. And pardon me my gentle Gratiano,
For that fame scrubbed boy the Doctor's Clerk
In lieu of this, laft night did lie with me.

Gra. Why this is like the mending of high wayes
In Summer, where the wayes are fair enough :
What, are we Cuckolds ere we have deferv'd it?

Por. Speak not so groffely, you are all amaz'd;
Here is a Letter, read it at your leifure,
It comes from Padua from Bellario.
There you shall find that Portia was the Doctor,
Nerriffa there her Clerk. Lorenzo here
Shall witneffe I fet forth as foon as you,
And but even now return'd : I have not yet
Entred my house. Anthony you are welcome,
And I have better newes in ftore for you
Than you expect : uneſeal this Letter ſoon,
There you shall find three of your Argofies
Are riehly come to harbour ſuddenly.

You shall not know by what ſtrange accident
I chanced on this Letter.

Anth. I am dumbe.

Baf. Were you the Doctor, and I knew you not?

Gra. Were you the Clerk, that is to make me Cuckold?

Ner. I, but the Clerk that never means to do it,
Unleſſe he live untill he be a man.

Baf. (Sweet Doctor) you shall be my bedfellow,
When I am abſent, then lie with my wife.

Ant. (Sweet Lady) you have given me life and living.
For here I read for certain that my ſhips

Are safely come to Rhodes.

Por. How now Lorenzo?

My Clerk hath ſome good comforts too for you.

Ner. I, and I'le give them him without a fee.
There doe I give to you and Jefſica

From the rich Jew, a ſpeciall deed of gift
After his death, of all he dies poffeſ'd of.

Loren. Fair Ladies you drop Manna in the way
Of ſtarved people.

Por. It is almost morning,
And yet I am ſure you are not ſatisfied
Of theſe events at full. Let us go in,
And charge us there upon interrogatories,
And we will anſwer all things faithfully.

Gra. Let it be so, the firſt interrogatory
That my Nerriffa shall be ſworn on, is,
Whether till the next night he had rather ſlay,
Or go to bed, now being two hours to day,
But were the day come, I ſhould with it dark,
Till I were couching with the Doctors Clerk.
Well, while I live, I'le fear no other thing
So ſore, as keeping ſafe Nerriffaes Ring.

Exeunt.

F I N I S.

185

As you like it.

Altus Primus. Scena Prima.

Enter Orlando and Adam.

Orlando.

AS I remember Adams, it was upon this fashion bequeathed me by will, but a poor thousand Crowns, and as thou faist, charged my brother on his bleffing to breed me well; and there begins my fadneſſe: My brother Inques he keeps at Schoole, and report ſpeaks goldenly of his profit: for my part, he keeps me rufically at home; or (to ſpeak more properly) ſtays me here at home unkept: for call you that keeping for a gentleman of my birth, that differs not from the ſtalling of an Oxe? his horſes are bred better, for befides that they are fair with their feeding, they are taught their mannage, and to that end Riders dearly hir'd: but I (his brother) gain nothing under him but growth, for the which his Animals on his dunghills are as much bound to him as I: befides this nothing that he ſo pientifically gives me, the ſomething that nature gave me, his countenance ſeems to take from me: he lets me feed with his Hindes, barres me the place of a brother, and as much as in him lies, mines my gentility with my education. This is it Adam that grieves me, and the ſpirit of my Father, which I think is within me, begins to mutiny againſt this ſervitude. I will no longer endure it, though yet I know no wife remedy how to avoid it.

Enter Oliver.

Adam. Yonder comes my Maſter, your brother.

Grlax. Go apart Adam, and thou ſhalt hear how he will ſhake me up.

Oli. Now Sir, what make you here ?

Orla. Nothing: I am not taught to make any thing.

Oli. What marre you then fir ?

Orla. Marry fir, I am helping you to marre that which God made, a poor unworthy brother of yours with idleneſſe.

Oli. Marry fir be better employed, and be naught a while.

Orla. Shall I keep your hogs, and eat huskes with them ? what predigall portion have I ſpent, that I ſhould come to ſuch penury ?

Oli. Know you where you are fir ?

Orla. O fir, very well: here in your Orchard.

Oli. Know you before home fir ?

Orla. I, better then him I am before, knowes me: I know you are my eldest brother, and in the gentle condition of blood you ſhould ſo know me: the courteſe of nations allowes you my better, in that you are the firſt born, but the fame tradition takes not away my blood, were there twenty brothers betwixt us: I have as much

of my father in me, as you; albeit I confefſe your coming before me is nearer to his reverence.

Oli. What Boy.

Orla. Come, come elder brother, you are too young in

Oli. Wilt thou lay hands on me villain ?

Orla. I am no villain: I am the youngest Son of ſir Rowland de Boyes: he was my father, and he is thrice a villain that fayes ſuch a father begot villains: wert thou not my brother, I would not take this hand from thy throat, till this other had pull'd out thy tongue, for ſaying ſo, thou haſt rail'd on thy ſelf.

Adam. Sweet Maſter be paticnt, for your Fathers remembrance, be at accord.

Oli. Let me go I fay.

Orla. I will not till I pleafe: you ſhall hear me: my father charg'd you in his will to give me good education: you have train'd me up like a pezant, obicuring and hiding from me all gentleman-like qualities: the ſpirit of my father growes ſtrong in me, and I will no longer endure it: therefore allow me ſuch exercifes as may become a gentleman, or give me the poor allottery my father left me by testament, with that I will go buy my fortunes.

Oli. And what wilt thou doe ? beg when that is ſpent? Well fir, get you in. I will not long be troubled with you: you ſhall have ſome part of your will, I pray you leave me.

Orla. I will no further offend you, then becomes me for my good.

Oli. Get you with him, you old dogge.

Adam. Is old dogge my reward: moſt true, I have loſt my teeth in your ſervie: God be with my old maſter, he would not have ſpoke ſuch a word.

Exit Orl. Ad.

Oli. Is it even ſo, begin you to grow upon me ? I will phyſick your rankneſſe, and yet give no thousand errowns neither: holla Dennis.

Enter Dennis.

Den. Calls your worſhip.

Oli. Was not Charles the Duke's Wraſtler here to ſpeak with me ?

Den. So pleafe you, he is here at the door, and importunes acceſſe to you.

Oli. Call him in: 'twill be a good way: and to morrow the wraſtling is.

Enter Charles.

Char. Good morrow to your worſhip.

Oli. Good Mounſeur Charles: what's the new newes at the new Court ?

Char. There's no newes at the Court fir, but the old newes: that is, the old Duke is banifhed by his younger brother the new Duke, and three or four loving

Lords

186

As you like it.

Lords have put themselves into a voluntary exile with him, whose Lands and revenues enrich the new Duke, therefore he gives them good leave to wander.

Oli. Can you tell if Rosalind the Dukes daughter be banished with her Father ?

Cha. O no; for the Dukes Daughter her Coulin so loves her, being ever from their Cradles bred together, that she would have followed their exile, or have died to flay behind her; she is at the Court, and no leſſe beloved of her Uncle, then his own Daughter, and never two Ladies loved as they doe.

Oli. Where will the old Duke live ?

Cha. They ſay he is already in the Forreſt of Arden, and a many merry men with him; and there they live like the old Robin Hood of England: they ſay many young Gentlemen flock to him every day, and fleet the time carelessly as they did in the golden world.

Oli. What, you wrastle to morrow before the new Duke?

Charl. Marry doe I fir: and I came to acquaint you with a matter: I am given, fir, secretly to understand, that your younger brother Orlando hath a dispoſition to come in diſguis'd againſt me to try a fall: to morrow, fir, I wrastle for my credit, and he that eſcapes me without ſome broken limbe, ſhall acquit him well: your brother is but young and tender, and for your love I would be loth to foyle him, as I muſt for mine own honour if he come in: therefore out of my love to you, I came hither to acquaint you withall, that either you might flay him from his intendment, or brook ſuch diſgrace well as he ſhall run into, in that it is a thing of his own ſearch, and altogether againſt my will.

Oli. Charles, I thank thee for thy love to me, which thou ſhalt find I will moſt kindly requite: I had my ſelf notice of my Brothers purpofe herein, and have by under-hand means laboured to diſwade him from it; but he is refolute. I tell the Charles, It is the flubbornet young fellow of France, full of ambition, an envious emulator of every man's good parts, a ſecret and villanous contriver againſt me his naturall brother: therefore uſe thy diſcretion, I had as lief thou didſt break his neck as his ſinger. And thou wert beſt look too't; for if thou doſt him any flight diſgrace, or if he doe not mightily grace himſelf on thee, he will practice againſt thee by poyſon, to entiſp thee by ſome treacherous device, and never leave thee till he hath tane thy life by ſome indirect means or other: for I aſſure thee, (and almost with teares I ſpeak it) there is not one ſo young, and ſo villanous this day living. I ſpeak but brotherly of him, but ſhould I anatomize him to thee, as he is, I muſt bluſh, and weep, and thou muſt look pale and wonder.

Cha. I am heartily glad I came hither to you: if he come to morrow, I'll give him his payment: if ever he go alone again, I'll never wrastle for prize more: and so God keep your worſhip.

Exit.

Oli. Farewell good Charles. Now will I ſtirre this Gameſter: I hope I ſhall fee an end of him, for my foul (yet I know not why) hates nothing more then he: yet he's gentle, never ſchool'd and yet learned, full of noble device, of all forts enchantingly beloved, and indeed ſo much in the heart of the world, and eſpecially of my own people, who beſt know him, that I am altogether miſprifed: but it ſhall not be ſo long, this wrastler ſhall clear all: nothing remains, but that I kindle the boy ther, which now I'll go about.

Exit.

## Scena Secunda.

Enter Rosalind, and Celia.

Cel. I pray thee Rosalind, sweet my Coz, be merry.

Ros. Dear Celia; I know more mirth then I am miſtreſſe of, and would you yet were merrier: unleſſe you could teach me to forget a baniſhed father, you muſt not learn me how to remember my extraordinary pleasure.

Cel. Herein I fee thou lovſt me not with the full waight that I love thee; if my Uncle thy baniſhed father had baniſhed thy Uncle the Duke my Father, ſo thou hadſt been ſtill with me, I could have taught my love to take thy father for mine; ſo wouldſt thou, if the truth of thy love to me were ſo righteouſly temper'd, as mine is to thee.

Ros. Well, I will forget the condition of my eſtate, to reſjoyce in yours.

Cel. You know my Father hath no child but I, nor none is like to have, and truly when he dies, thou ſhalt be his heir? for what he hath taken away from thy father perſorce, I will render thee again in ſffect ion: by mine honour I will, and when I break that oath, let me turn monſter: therefore my sweet Rose, my dear Rose be merry.

Ros. From henceforth I will, Coz, and deviſe ſpores: let me fee, what think you of falling in love?

Cel. Marry I prethee doe, to make ſport withall: but love no man in good earneſt, nor no further in ſport neither, then with ſafetät of a pure bluſh, thou maſt in honour come off again.

Ros. What ſhall be our ſport then ?

Cel. Let us fit and mock the good houſwife Fortune from her wheel, that her gifts may henceforth be beſtowed equally.

Ros. I would we could doe ſo: for her benefits are mightily miſplaced, and the bountifull blind woman doth moſt miſtake in her gifts to women.

Cel. 'Tis true, for that he makes fair, the ſcare is makes honest, and that he makes honest, he makes very ill-favouredly.

Ros. Nay now thou goſt from Fortunes Office to Naures: Fortune reigns in gifts of the world, not in the lineaments of Nature.

Enter Clown.

Cel. No; when Nature hath made fair a creature, may he not by Fortune fall into the fire? though Nature hath given us wit to ſlout at Fortune, hath not Fortune ſent in this fool to cut off this argument?

Ros. Indeed Fortune is there too hard for Nature, when Fortune makes Natures naturall, the cutter off of Natures wit.

Cel. Peradventure this is not Fortunes work neither, but Natures, who perceiving our naturall wits too dull to reaſon of ſuch goddeſſes, hath ſent this Naturall for our whetſtone: for alwayes the duſneſſe of the fool, is the whetſtone of the wits. How now Wit, whether wonder you ?

Clow. Miſtreſſe, you muſt come away to your father,

Cel. Were you made the Mſclenger ?

Clo. No by mine honour, but I was bid to come for you.

Ref.

As you like it.

187

Ref. Where learned you that oath fooles?

Clo. Of a certain Knight, thatfwore by his Honour
they were good Pancakes, and fwore by his Honour the
Mustard was naught: Now I'le (and to it, the Pancakes
were naught, and the Mustard was good, and yet was
not the Knight forsworn.

Cel. How prove you that in the great heap of your
knowledge?

Ref. I marry, now unmuzzle your wifdome.

Clo. Stand you both forth now: I stroke your chinnies,
and fwear by your beards that I am a knave.

Cel. By our beards (if we had them) thou art.

Clo. By my knavery (if I had it) then I were: but if
you fwear by that that is not, you are not forsworn: no
more was this Knight fwearing by his Honour, for he ne-
ver had any; or if he had, he had fworn it away, before
ever he saw thofe Pancakes, or that Mustard.

Cel. Prethee, who is't that thou means't?

Clo. One that old Fredrick your Father loves.

Ref. My Fathers love is enough to honour him enough;
fpeak no more of him, you'll be whipt for taxation, one
of thefe dayes.

Clo. The more pity that fooles may not speak wifely,
what Wive men do foolifly.

Cel. By my troth thou faifeft true: For, firce the little
wit that fooles have was filenced, the little foolery that
wife men have makes a great fhow; Here comes Moun-
fieur Le Beu.

Enter Le Beu.

Ref. With his mouth full of news.

Cel. Which he will put on us, as Pigeons feed their
young.

Ref. Then shall we be news-cram'd.

Cel. All the better: we shall be the more marketable,
Boon-jour Mounfieur le Beu, what newes?

Le Beu. Fair Princeſſes,

You have loft much ſport.

Cel. ſport: of what colour?

Le Beu. What colour Madam? How shall I anſwer
you?

Ref. As wit and fortune will.

Clo. Or as the deſtinies decrees,

Cel. Well faid, that was laid on with a trowell.

Clo. Nay, if I keep not my rank.

Ref. Thou loofeſt thy old ſmell.

Le Beu. You amaze me Ladies: I would have told
you of good wraſtling, which you have loft the fight of.

Ref. Yet tell us the manner of the Wraſtling.

Le Beu. I will tell you the beginning: and if it pleafe
your Ladilhips, you may fee the end, for the beſt is yet
to doe, and here where you are, they are coming to per-
form it.

Cel. Well; the beginning that is dead and buried.

Le Beu. There comes an old man, and his three ſons.

Cel. I could match this beginning with an old tale.

Le Beu. Three proper young men, of excellent growth
and prefence.

Ref. With bils on their necks: Be it known unto all
men by theſe prefents.

Le Beu. The eldeſt of the three, wraſtled with Charles
the Dukes Wraſtler, which Charles in a moment threw
him, and broke three of his ribbles, that there is little
hope of life in him: So he ſerv'd the ſeconſ, and ſo the
third: yonder they lye, the poor old man their Father,
making ſuch pitifull dole over them, that all the behol-

ders take his part with weeping.

Ref. Alas.

Clo. But what is the ſport Mounſieur, that the Ladies
have loft?

Le Beu. Why this that I ſpeak of.

Clo. Thus men may grow wifer every day. It is the
ſift time that ever I heard breaking of libbes was ſport
for Ladies.

Cel. Or I, I promife thee.

Ref. But is there any ſle longs to fee this broken Mu-
fick in his fides? Is there yet another doats upon rib-
breaking? Shall we fee this wraſtling Cofin?

Le Beu. You muſt if you ſtay here, for here is the
place appointed for wraſtling, and they are ready to per-
form it.

Cel. Yonder ſure they are coming. Let us now ſtay
and fee it.

Flourish. Enter Duke, Lords, Orlando, Charles
and Attendants

Duk. Come on, firce the youth will not be entreated,
His own perill on his forwardneſſe.

Ref. Is yonder the man ?

Le Beu. Even he, Madam.

Cel. Alas, he is too young: yet he looks ſuccessfully.

Duk. How now daughter, and Cofin:

Are you crept hither to fee the wraſtling?

Ref. I my Liege, ſo pleafe you give us leave.

Du. You will take little delight in it, I can tell you,
there is ſuch odds in the man: In pity of the challengers
youth, I would fain diffwade him, but he will not be
entreated. Speak to him Ladies, fee if you can move
him,

Cel. Call him hither good Mounſieur Le Beu.

Duk. Do ſo: I'le not be by.

Le Beu. Mounſeur the Challenger, the Princeſſe calls
for you.

Orle. I attend them with all ſ respect and duty.

Ref. Young man, have you challeng'd Charles the
Wraſtler?

Orl. No fair Princeſſe: he is the generall challenger,
I come but as others doe, to try with him the ſtrength of
my youth.

Cel. Young Gentleman, your ſpirits are too bold for
your years: you have feen cruell proofe of this mans
ſtrength, if you faw your ſelfe with your eyes, or knew
your ſelfe with your judgement, the fear of your adven-
ture would counſell you to a more equall enterprife. We
pray you for your own ſake to embrace your own ſafety,
and give over this attempt.

Ref. Do young Sir, your reputation ſhall not therefore
be miſprifed: we will make it our ſuit to the Duke, that
the wraſtling might not go forward.

Orl. I beſeech you, puniſh me not with your hard
thoughts, wherein I conſeſſe me much guilty to, deny ſo
fair and excellent Ladies any thing. But let your fair
eyes, and gentle wifhes go with me to my triall, where-
in if I be ſoil'd, there is but one ſham'd that was never
gracious: if kill'd, but one dead that is willing to be ſo: I
haſt doe my friends no wrong, for I have none to la-
ment me; the world no injury, for in it I have nothing:
onely in the world I fill up a place, which may be better
ſupplied, when I have made it empty.

Ref. The little ſtrength that I have, I would it were
with you.

Cel.

As you like it.

188

Cel. And mine to eek out heis.
Ref. Fare you well: pray heaven I be deceiv'd in you.
Cel. Your hearts defires be with you.
Char. Come, where is this young gallant, that is so
defirous to lye with his mother earth?

Orla. Ready fir, but his will hath in it a more modest
working.

Duk. You shall try but one fall.

Char. No, I warrant your Grace you shall not entreat
him to a fecond, that have so mightily perfwaded him
from a firſt.

Orla. You mean to mock me after : you ſhould not
have mockt before : but come your wayes.

Ref. Now Hercules, be thy ſpeed young man,

Cel. I would I were invisible, to catch the ſtrong fel-
low by the leg.
They Wraſtle.

Ref. Oh excellent young man.

Cel. If I had a thunderbolt in mine eye, I can tell who
I should down.
Shout.

Duk. No more, no more.

Orla. Yes I beſeech your Grace, I am not yet well
breath'd.

Duk. How doſt thou Charles ?

Le Ben. He cannot ſpeak my Lord.

Duk. Bear him away :

What is thy name young man ?

Orl. Orlandomy Liege, the youngeſt ſon of Sir Row-
land de Boyes.

Duk. I would thou hadſt been ſon to ſome man else,
The world ſteen'd thy father honourable,
But I did find him ſtill mine enemy :
Thou ſhould'ſt have better pleas'd me with this deed,
Had'ſt thou deſcended from another houſe :
But fare thee well, thou art a gallant youth,
I would thou had'ſt told me of another Father.

Exit Duke.

Cel. Were I my Father (Coze) would I do this ?

Orl. I am more proud to be Sir Rowlands ſon,
His youngeſt ſon, and would not change that calling
To be adopted heir to Fredrick.

Ref. My Father lov'd Sir Rowland as his ſoul,

And all the world was of my Fathers minde,
Had I before known this young man his ſon,
I ſhould have given him tears unto entreaties,
Ere he ſhould thus have ventur'd.

Orl. Gentle Cofin,

Let us go thank him, and encourage him :

My Fathers rough and envious diſpoſition

Sticks me at heart: Sir, you have well deferv'd,

If you do keep your promifes in love,

But juſtly as you have exceeded all in promife,

Your Miftris ſhall be happy.

Ref. Gentleman,

Wear this for me: one out of ſuits with fortune,

That could give more, but that her hand lacks means.

Shall we go Coze?

Cel. I: fare you well fair Gentleman,

Orl. Can I not ſay, I thank you ? My better parts

Are all thrown down, and that which here stands up
Is but a quintine, a meer liveleſſe block.

Ref. He calls us back : my pride fell with my fortunes
Ile ask him what he would : Did you call Sir ?

Sir, you have wraſtled well, and overthrown

More then your enemies.

Cel. Will you go Coze ?

Ref. Have with you: fare you well.

Or. What paſſion hangs these waights upon my tongue?
I cannot ſpeak to her, yet the ury'd conference?

Enter Le Ben.

O poor Orlando ! thou art overthrown

Or Charles, or ſomething weaker maſters thee.

Le Ben. Good fir, I do in friendſhip counſell you
To leave this place; Albeit you have deferv'd
High commendation, true applaſe, and love ;

Yet ſuch is now the Dukes condition,

That he miſconſters all that you have done :

The Duke is humorous, what he is indeed

More ſuits you to conceive, then I to ſpeak of.

Orl. I thank you fir; and pray you tell me this,
Which of the two was daughter to the Duke,
That here was at the Wraſtling ?

Le Ben. Neither his daughter, if we judge by manners,
But yet indeed the taller is his daughter,

The other is daughter to the banif'd Duke,

And here detain'd by her ſurpuring Uncle

To keep his daughter company, whose loves

Are dearer then the naturall bond of Sifters :

But I can tell you, that of late this Duke

Hath tane diſpleasure 'gainſt his gentle Neice,

Grounded upon no other argument,

But that the people praife her for her vertues,

And pitty her, for her good fathers ſake ;

And on my life his malice 'gainſt the Lady

Will ſuddenly break forth: Sir, fare you well,

Hereafter in a better world then this,

I'll ſhall define more love and knowledge of you.

Orl. I reſt much bounden to you : fare you well?

Thus muſt I from the smoke into the ſmoother,

From tyrant Duke, unto a tyrant Brother,

But heavenly Rofaline.

Exit.

## Scena Tertia.

Enter Celia, and Rofaline.

Cel. Why Cofin, why Rofaline: Cupid have mercy,
Not a word ?

Ref. Not one to throw at a dog.

Cel. No, thy words are too precious to be cast away
upon curres, throw ſome of then at me; come, lame me
with reaſons.

Ref. Then there were two Cofins laid up, when the
one ſhould be lam'd with reaſons, and the other mad
without any.

Cel. But is all this for your Father ?

Ref. No, ſome of it is for my childes Father: Oh how
full of briers is this working day world.

Cel. They are but burs, Cofin, thrown upon thee in
holiday foolery, if we walk not in the trodden paths,
our very petti-coats will catch them.

Ref. I could ſhake them off my coat, these burs are in
my heart.

Cel. Hem them away.

Ref. I would try if I could cry hem, and have him.

Cel. Come, come, wraſtle with thy affections.

Ref. O they take the part of a better wraſther then my
ſelf.

Cel. O, a good will upon you: you will try in time
in

As you like it.

189

in delpight of a fall: but turning these jefts out of ser vice,
let us talk in good earneft: Is it poffible on such a fud-
den, you should fall into so ſtrange a liking with old Sir
Rowlands youngeſt ſon ?

Ref. The Duke my Father lou'd his Father clearly.

Cel. Doth it therefore enſue that you should love his
Son clearly? By this kinde of chafe, I should hate him,
for my father hated his father clearly; yet I hate not
Orlando.

Ref. No faith, hate him not for my ſake.

Cel. Why should I not ? doth not he deferve well ?

Enter Duke with Lords.

Ref. Let me love him for that, and doe you love him
Becaufe I doe. Look, here comes the Duke.

Cel. With his eyes full of anger.

Duk. Miftris, dispatch you with your faſeſt haſte,
And get you from our Court.

Ref. Me Uncle !

Duk. You Cofin,

Within these ten dayes if that thou beſt found
So near our publick Court as twenty miles,
Thou diſeſt for it.

Ref. I doe beſeech your Grace.

Let me the knowledge of my faulrt bear with me :
If with my ſelf I hold intelligence,
Or have acquaintance with mine own deſires,
If that I do not dream, or be not ſtrantick,
(As I do tnaſt I am not) then dear Unkle,
Never so much as in a thought unborne,
Did I offend your Higheſſe.

Duk. Thus do all Traitors,

If their purgation did confiſin in words,

They are as innocent as grace it ſelf ;

Let it ſuſſice thee that I tnaſt thee not.

Ref. Yet your miſtraſt cannot make me a Traitor;
Tell me whereon the likelihood depends?

Duk. Thou art thy Fathers daughter, there's enough.

Ref. So was I when your highneſt took his Dukedome,
So was I when your highneſſe baniſh'd him ;

Treaſon is not inherited my Lord,

Or if we did derive it from our friends,

What's that to me, my Father was no Traiour :
Then good my Liege, miſtake me not so much,
To think my poverty is treacherous.

Cel. Dear Soveraign hear me ſpeak.

Duk. I Celia, we ſtaſd her for your ſake,

Elſe had ſhe with her Father rang'd along.

Cel. I did not then intreat to have her ſlay.

It was your pleasure, and your own remorſe,

I was too young that time to value her,

But now I know her: if ſhe be a Traiour,

Why to am I; we fill have flept together,

Rofe at an inſtant, learn'd, plaid, eat together,

And whereſoever we went, like Iuno's Swans,

Still we went coupled and inſeparable.

Duk. She is too ſubſtile for thee, and her ſmoothneſs
Her very ſilence and her patience,

Speak to the people, and they pitty her :

Thou art a ſoole, ſhe robs thee of thy name,

And thou wilt ſhow more bright, and ſeem more vertu-
When ſhe is gone: then open not thy lips,
(ous

Firm, and irrevocable is my doombe,

Which I have paf't upon her, ſhe is baniſh'd.

Cel. Pronounce that ſentence then on me my Liege,
I cannot live out of her company.

Duk. You are a ſoole: you Neice provide your ſelf,
If you out-ſtay the time, upon mine honour,
And in the greatneſſe of my word you dye.

Exit Duke, &c.

Cel. O my poor Rofaline, whither wilt thou go?

Wilt thou change father ? I will give thee mine

I charge thee be not thou more griev'd then I am.

Ref. I have more cauſe.

Cel. Thou haſt not Cofin,

Prethee be cheerefull; know'ſt thou not the Duke

Hath baniſh'd me his daughter ?

Ref. That he hath not.

Cel. No, hath not? Rofaline lacks then the love
Which teacheth thee that thou and I am one,

Shall we be fundred ? shall we part ſweet girle ?

No, let my Father feek another heir :

Therefore devife with me how we may ſlye,

Whither to go, and what to bear with us,

And do not feek to take your charge upon you,

To bear your griefs your ſelf, and leave me out :

For by this heaven (now as our forrowes pale ;)

Say what thou canſt, I'le go along with thee.

Ref. Why, whither ſhall we go?

Cel. To ſeek my Unkle in the Forreſt of Arden.

Ref. Alas, what danger will it be to us,

(Maids as we are) to travell forth ſo far ?

Beauty provoketh theevves sooner then gold.

Cel. I'le put my ſelf in poor and mean attire,

And with a kind of umber ſmitch my face,

The like do you, ſo shall we paffe along,

And never ſtir affailants.

Ref. Were it not better,

Because that I am more then common tall,

That I did ſuit me all points like a man,

A gallant curtelax upon my thigh,

A bore ſpear in my hand, and in my heart

Lye there what hidden womans fear there will,

We'll have a swaſhing and a marſhall outside,

As many other mannith cowards have,

That do outface it with their ſemblances.

Cel. What ſhall I call thee when thou art a man?

Ref. I'le have no worse a name then Ioves own Page,

And therefore look you call me Ganimed,

But what will you be call'd ?

Cel. Something that hath a reference to my ſtate :

No longer Celia, but Aliena.

Ref. But Cofin, what if we aſſaid to ſteal

The clowniſh Foole out of your Fathers Court :

Would he not be a comfort to our tiavell ?

Cel. He'll go along o're the wide world with me,

Leave me alone to wooe him; Let's away

And get our Jewels and our wealth together ;

Devife the ſitteſt time, and ſaſeſt way

To hide us from purſuit that will be made

After my flight: now go we in content

To liberty and not to baniſhment.

Exeunt.

Actus Secundus. Scena Prima.

Enter Duke Senior : Amyens, and two or three Lords
like Foreſters.

Duk. Sen. Now my Coe-mates, and brother in exile :
Hath not old cuſtome made this life more ſweet

Then

As you like it.

190

Then that of painted pomp? Are not these woods
More free from perill then the envious Court?
Here feel we not the penalty of Adams,
The seafons difference, as the Icic phange
And churlifh chuting of the winters winde,
Which when it baits and blowes upon my body
Even till I shrink with cold, I smile, and fay
This is no flattery: thefe are counfellors
That feelingly perfwade me what I an:
Sweet are the ules of adversity
Which like the toad, ougly and venemous,
Wears yet a precious Jewell in his head:
And this our life exempt from publick haunt,
Findes tongues in trees, books in the running brooks,
Sermons in fones, and good in every thing.

Amien. I would not change it, happy is your Grace
That can tranflate the stubborneflle of fortune
Into fo quiet and fo fweet a ftile.

Duk. Sen. Come, fhall we go and kill us venifon?
And yet irks me the poor dapled fooks
Being native Burgers of this defert City,
Should in their own confines with forked heads
Have their round haunches goard.

1. Lord. Indeed my Lord
The melancholly Jaques grieves at that;
And in that kinde fwears you do more ufurp
Then doth your brother that hath banifh'd you:
To day my Lord of Amiens, and my felf,
Did feal behind him as he lay along
Under an oak, whose antick roop peeps out
Upon the brook that brawls along this wood,
To the which place a poor ſquefred Stag
That from the hunters aim had tane a hurt,
Did come to languifh; and indeed my Lord
The wretched animall heav'd forth ſuch groans
That their diſcharge did ſtretch his leathern coat
Almoſt to burſting, and the big round tears
Cours'd one another down his innocent noſe
In pittous chafe: and thus the hairy foole,
Much maik'd of the melancholly Jaques;
Stood on the extreameft veige of the ſwift brook,
Augmenting it with teats.

Duk. Sen. But what faid Jaques?
Did he not moralize this ſpectacle?

1. Lord. O yes, into a thouſand ſimilies.
Fift, for his weeping into the needleſle ſtream;
Poor Deer, quoth he, thou mak'ſt a teſtament
As worldlings doe, giving thy ſum of more
To that which had too much: then being alone,
Left and abandoned of his velvet friend;
'Tis right, quoth he, thus miſery doth part
The Flux of company: anon a careleſſe Heard
Full of the paffure, jumps along by him
And never ſtayes to greet him: I, quoth Jaques,
Sweep on, you fat and greazy Citizens;
'Tis juſt the ſtyle: wherefore do you look
Upon that poor and broken bankrupt there?
Thus moſt inveſtively he pierceth through
The body of the Country, City, Court,
Yea, and this our life, ſwearing that we
Are meer ufurpers, tyrants, and what's worſe,
To fright the Animals, and to kill them up
In their aſſign'd and native dwelling place.

Du. Sen. And did you leave him in this contemplation?

2. Lord. We did my Lord, weeping and commenting
Upon the ſobbing Deer.

Du. Sen. Show me the place,
I love to cope him in theſe ſullen ſits,
For then he's full of matter.

2. Lor. I'll bring you to him ſtraight.

Exeunt.

## Scena Secunda.

Enter Duke with Lords.

Duk. Can it be poffible that no man faw them?
It cannot be, ſome villanies of my Court
Are of confent and ſufferance in this.

1. Lord, I cannot hear of any that did ſee her,
The Ladies, her attendants of her chamber,
Saw her abed, and in the morning early,
They found the bed untreaſur'd of their Miftris.

2. Lor. My Lord, the roynith Clown, at whom ſo foſt,
Your Grace was want to laugh, is almoſting:
Hesperia, the Princesſe gentlewoman,
Conſeſſes that ſhe secretly ore-heard
Your daughter and her Cofin much commend
The parts and graces of the Wraſtler
That did but lately foile the ſynowy Charles,
And ſhe believes where ever they are gone
That youth is ſurely in their company.

Duk. Send to his brother, fetch that gallant hither,
If he be abſent, bring his Brother to me.
I'le make him finde him: do this ſuſzenfly;
And let not ſearch and inquifition quail,
To bring again the ſoolſh ſunawayes.

Exeunt.

## Scena Tertia.

Enter Orlando, and Adam.

Orl. Who's there?

Ad. What my young maſter, oh my gentle maſter,
Oh my fewest maſter, O you memory
Of old Sir Rowland? Why, what make you here?
Why are you vertuous? Why do people love you?
And wherefore are you gentle, ſtrong, and valiant?
Why would you be ſo fond to overcome
The bonny prifer of the humorous Duke?
Your praffe is come too ſwifly home before you.
Know you not Maſter, to ſome kind of men,
Their graces ſerve them but as enemies,
No more do yours: your vertues gentle Maſter
Are ſanctified and holy traitours to you:
Oh what a world is this, when what is comely
Envenoms him that bears it?

Orl. Why, what's the matter?

Ad. O unhappy youth,
Come not within theſe doors: within this rooſe,
The enemy of all your graces lives.
Your brother, no, no brother, yet the ſon
(Yet not the ſon, I will not call him ſon)
Of him I was about to call his Father,
Hath heard your prafes, and this night he means,
To burn the lodging where you uſe to lye,
And you within it: if he fail of that

He

As you like it.

191

He will have other means to cut you off;

I overheard him: and his practices:

This is no place; this house is but a butchery;

Abhor it, fear it, do not enter it.

Orl. Why whither Adams would'ft thou have me go?

Ada. No matter whither, for you come not here.

Orl. What, would'ft thou have me go and beg my
Or with a bare and boiftrous Sword enforce
(food,

A thecvish living on the common rode?

This I muft do, or know not what to do:

Yet this I will not do, do how I can:

I rather will subject me to the malice

Of a diverted bloud, and bloudy brother.

Ada. But do not so: I have five hundred Crowns,
The thrifty hire I faved under you father,
Which I did ftore to be my foster Nurfe,
When ſervice ſhould in my old limbs lie lame,
And unregarded age in corners thrown,
Take that, and he that doth the Ravens feed,
Yea providently caters for the Sparrow,
Be comfort to my age: here is the gold,
All this I give you, let me be your ſervant,
Though I look old, yet I am ſtrong and luſty;

For in my youth I never did apply

Hot and rebellious liquors in my bloud,

Nor did not with unbathfull forhead wooe,

The means of weakneſſe and debility,

Therefore my age is as a luſty winter,

Frofty but kindly; let me go with you,

I'll do the ſervice of a younger man

In all your bufineſſe and neceſſities.

Orl. Oh good old man, how well in thee appears
The conſtant ſervice of the antick world,

When ſervice ſweat for duty, not for meed :

Thou art not for the ſaſhion of theſe times,

Where none will ſweat, but for promotion,

And having that, do koak their ſervice up,

Even with the having, it is not ſo with thee :

But poor old man, thou prun'ſt a rotten tree,

That cannot ſo much as a bloſſome yield,

In lieu of all thy pains and husbandry:

But come thy wayes, we'll go along together,

And ere we have thy youthfull wages ſpent,

We'll light upon ſome fetled low content:

Ada. Maſter go on, and I will follow thee

To the laſt gaſp with truth and loyalty,

From ſeventy years, till now almoſt fourſcore

Here liv'd I, but now live here no more.

At ſeventeen years, many their fortunes ſeeſ,

But at fourſcore, it is too late a week,

Yet fortune cannot recompence me better

Then to dye well, and not my Maſters debter.

Exeunt.

## Scena Quarta.

Enter Rofaline for Ganimed, Celia for Aliena,
and Clown, alias Touchſone.

Ref. O Jnpiſter, how merry are my ſpirits?

Clo. I care not for my ſpirits, if my legges were not
weary.

Ref. I could finde in my heart to diſgrace my mans
apparell, and to cry like a woman: but I muſt comfort

the weaker veſſell, as doublet and hoſe ought to ſhow it
ſelf couragious to a pettycoat; therefore courage, good
Aliena.

Cel. I pray you bear with me, I can goe no further.

Clo. For my part, I had rather bear with you, then
bear you : yet I should bear no croſſe if I did bear you,
for I think you have no money in your purſe.

Ref. Well, this is the Forreſt of Arden.

Clo. I, now am I in Arden, the more foole I, when I
was at home I was in a better place, but Traveller's muſt
be content.

Enter Corin, and Silvias.

Ref. I, be ſo good Touchſhone: look you who comes
here, a young man and an old in Solemn talk.

Cor. That is the way to make her ſcorn you ſtill.

Sil. O Corin, that thou knew'ſt how I do love her,

Cor. I partly gueſſe: for I have lov'd ere now.

Sil. No Corin, being old, thou can't not gueſſe,

Though in thy youth thou waſt as true a lover

As ever ſigh'd upon a midnight pillow:

But if thy love were ere like to mine,

As Iure I think did never man love so :

How many actions moſt ridiculous,

Haſt thou been drawn to thy fantafie ?

Cor. Into a thousand that I have ſorgen.

Sil. Oh thou didst then never love ſo heartily,

If thou remembreſt not the flighteſt folly,

That ever love did make thee run into,

Thou haſt not lov'd.

Or if thou haſt not ſate as I do now,

Wearying thy hearer in thy Miftris prieſe,

Thou haſt not lov'd.

Or if thou haſt not broke from company,

Abruptly as my paffion now makes me,

Thou haſt not lov'd.

O Phebe, Phebe, Phebe.

Exeunt.

Ref. Alas poor Shepheard! ſearching of their wound,
I have by hard adventure found mine own.

Clo. And I mine: I remember when I was in love, I
broke my ſword upon a ſtone, and bid him take that for
coming a nights to Jane ſmile and I remember the kif-
ſing of her batlet, and the Cowes dugs that her pretty
chopt hands had milk'd; and I remember the wooing of
a peacod inſtead of her, from whom I took two cods,
and giving her them again, faſd with weeping tears,
wear theſe for my ſake: we that are true Lovers, run into
ſtrange capers; but as all is mortall in nature, ſo is all na-
ture in love, mortall in folly.

Ref. Thou ſpeak'ſt wifer then thou art ware of.

Clo. Nay, I shall ne're be ware of mine own wifer, till
I break my thins againſt it.

Ref. Iove, Iove, this Shepheards paffion
Is much upon my ſaſhion,

Clo. And mine, but it growes ſomething ſtale with
me.

Cel. I pray you, one of you queſtion you'd man,
If he for gold will give us any food,

I faint almoſt to death.

Clo. Holla; you Clown.

Ref. Peace fool, he's not thy kinfman.

Cor. Who calls ?

Clo. Your betters Sir.

Cor. Elſe are they very wretched.

Ref.

As you like it.

192

Ref. Peace I say : good even to you friend.
Cor. And to you gentle Sir, and to you all,
Ref. I prethee, Shepheard, if that love or gold
Can in this Defect place buy entertainment,
Bring us where we may reft our selves, and feed :
Here's a young Maid with travell much oppreſſed,
And faints for ſuccour.

Cor. Fair fir, I pitty her,
And with her ſake more then for mine own,
My fortunes were more able to relieve her :
But I am ſhepheard to another man,
And do not ſheer the Fleeces that I graze :
My maſter is of churliſh diſpoſition,
And little wreaks to finde the way to heaven
By doing deeds of hofpitality.
Befides his Coat, his Flocks, and bounds of feed
Are now on ſale, and at our ſheep-coat now
By reaſon of his abſence there is nothing
That you will ſeed on : but what is, come ſee,
And in my voyce moſt welcome ſhall you be.

Ref. What is he that ſhall buy his flock and paſture ?

Cor. That young Swain that you ſaw here but ere-
while.

That little cares for buying any thing.

Ref. I pray thee, if it stand with honefly,
Buy thou the Cottage, and the paſture, and the flock,
And thou ſhalt have to pay for it of us.

Cel. And we will mend thy wages:
I like this place, and willingly could
Waſſe my time in it.

Cor. Affuredly the thing is to be ſold :
Go with me, if you like upon report,
The foile, the profit, and this kinde of life,
I will your very faithfull Feeder be,
And buy it with your gold right ſuddenfly.

Exeunt.

## Scena Quinta.

Enter, Amyens, Jaques, and others.
Song.

Under the greenwood tree,
who loves to lye with me,

And turn his merry Note,
unto the ſweet Birds throte :

Come hither, come hither, come hither :
Here ſhall he ſee no enemy,
But Winter and rough Weather.

Jaq. More, more, I prethee more.

Amy. It will make you melancholly Mounſieur Iaques.

Iaq. I thank it: More, I prethee more,
I canuck melancholly out of a ſong.

As a Weazel ſucks eggs: More, I prethee more.

Amy. My voyce is ragged, I know I cannot pleafe
you.

Iaq. I do not defire you to pleafe me,
I do defire you to ſing :

Come, more, another ſtanzo: Call you'em ſtanzo's ?

Amy. What you will Mounſieur Iaques.

Iaq. Nay, I care not for their names, they own me
nothing. Will you ſing.

Amy. More at your requeſt, then to pleafe my ſelf

Iaq. Well then, if ever I thank any man, I'le thank

you: but that they call complement is like th'encounter
of two dog-Apes. And when a man thanks me heartily,
methinks I have given him a penny, and he renders me
the beggarly thanks. Come ſing, and you that will not,
hold your tongues.

Amy. Well, I'le end the ſong. Sirs, cover the while,
the Duke will drink under this tree; he hath been all this
day to look you.

Iaq. And I have been all this day to avoid him :
He is too diſputeable for my company :
I think of as many matters as he, but I give
Heaven thanks, and make no boast of them.
Come, warble, come.

Song.

Altogether here.

Who doth ambition ſhun,
and loves to live i'th' Sun,

Seeking the food he eats,

And pleas'd with what he gets :

Come hither, come hither, come hither,
Here ſhall he ſee, no enemy,

But Winter, and rough Weather.

Iaq. I'le give you a verſe to this note,
That I made yefterday in deſpight of my invention.

Amy. And I'le ſing it.

Iaq. Thus it goes,

If it doe come to paſſ,

That any man turn Aſſe :

Leaving his wealth and eafe,

A ſtubborn will to pleafe,

Dudcame, dudcame, dudcame :

Here ſtall he ſee, groſſe fooles as he,

And if he will come to me.

Amy. What's that Dudcame ?

Iaq. 'Tis a Greek invocation, to call fools into a cir-
cle. I'le go ſleep if I can : if I cannot, I'le raile againſt all
the firſt born of Egypt.

Amy. And I'le go ſeek the Duke,
His bankeſt is prepar'd.

Exeunt.

## Scena Sexta.

Enter Orlando, and Adams.

Adam. Dear Maſter, I can go no further :

O I dye for food, Here lye I down,

And meaſure out my grave. Farewell kinde Maſter.

Orl. Why how now Adam? No greater heart in thee !

Live a little, comfort a little, cheer thy ſelf a little.

If this uncouth Forreſt yield any thing ſavage,

I will either be food for it, or bring it for food to thee:

Thy conceit is nearer death, then thy powers,

For my ſake be comfortable, hold death a while

At the armes end: I will here be with thee preſently,

And if I bring thee not ſomething to eat,

I will give thee leave to dye: but if thou dieſt

Before I come, thou art a mocker of my labour.

Well faid, thou look't cheereely,

And I'le be with thee quickly : yet thou lieſt

In the bleak aire. Come I will bear thee

To ſome ſhelter, and thou ſhalt not dye

For lack of a dinner,

If there live any thing in this Desert.

Cheerely good Awam.

Exeunt.
Scena

As you like it.

195

Clo. Truly Shepheard, in respect of it self, it is a good life; but in respect that it is a Shepheard's life, it is naught. In respect that it is solitary, I like it very well: but in respect that it is private, it is a very vild life. Now in respect it is in the fields, it pleafeth me well: but in respect it is not in the Court, it is tedious. As it is a spare life (look you) it fits my humour well: but as there is no more plenty in it, it goes much against my ftomack. Has't any Philofophy in thee Shepheard?

Cor. No more, but that I know the more one fickens,
the worse at ease he is: and that he that wants money,
meanes, and content, is without three good friends. That
the property of rain is to wet, and fire to turn : That
good pafure makes fat sheep : and that a great caufe of
the night, is lack of the Sun : That he that hath learned
no wit by Nature, nor Art, may complain of good brea-
ding, or comes of a very dull kindred.

Clo. Such a one is a natural Philofopher.

Was't ever in Court Shepheard ?

Cor. No truly.

Clo. Then thou art damn'd.

Cor. Nay, I hope.

Clo. Truly thou art damn'd, like an ill roafed Egge,
all on one fide.

Cor. For not being at Court ? your reafon.

Clo. Why, if thou never was't at Court, thou never
faw't good manners; if thou never faw't good manners,
then thy manners muft be wicked; and wickedneſſe is fin,
and fin is damnation : Thou art in a parlous ſtate, Shep-
heard.

Cor. Not a whit Touchſtone: that of which have good
manners at the Court, are as ridiculous in the Countrey,
as the behaviour of the Countrey is moſt mockable at the
Court. You told me, you falute not at the Court, but
you kiffe your hands; that courtcſe would be unclearly
if Courtiers were Shepheard.

Clo. Inſtance, briefly : come, inſtance.

Cor. Why we are ſtill handling our Ewes, and their
Fels you know are greaſe.

Clo. Why, do not your Courtiers hands fweat ? and
is not the greaſe of Mutton as wholſome as the fweat of a
man ? Shallow, shallow : A better inſtance I ſay : Come :

Cor. Befides, our hands are hard.

Clo. Your lips will feel them the sooner. Shallow agen:
a more founder inſtance, come.

Cor. And they are often tarr'd over, with the ſurgery
of our Sheep: and would you have us kiffe Tarre ? The
Courtiers hands are perfumed with Civet.

Clo. Moſt shallow man : Thou wormes-meat in re-
pect of a good piece of fleſh indeed : learn of the wife
and perpend : Civet is of a baſer birth then Tarre ; the
very uncleanly flux of a Cat. Mend the inſtance Shep-
head.

Cor. You have too Courtly a wit for me, I'le reſt.

Clo. Wilt thou reſt damn'd ? God help thee shallow
man: God make incifion in thee, thou art raw.

Cor. Sir, I am a true Labourer, I earn that I eat ; get
that I wear; owe no man hate, envy no mans happi-
neſſe; glad of other mens good, content with my harme ;
and my greatest of my pride, is to see my Ewes graze,
and my Lambs fuck.

Clo. That is another ſimple ſin in you, to bring the
Ewes and the Rammes together, and to offer to get your
living, by the copulation of Cattell, to be a Bawd to a
Bell-weather, and to betray a mee-Lamb of a twelve-
moneth to a crooked-pated old Cuckoldly Ramme, out

of all reaſonable match. If thou be't not damnd for this,
the devil himſelf will have no Shepheard's ; I cannot fee
how thou shouldſt ſcapc.

Cor. Here comes Mr. Ganimed, my new Miftreffes
Brother.

Enter Rosalind.

Ros. From the eafe to western Inde,

no jewel is like Rosalinde,

Her worth being mounted on the winde,

through all the World beares Rosalinde

All the Pictures faireſt Linde,

are but black to Rosalinde :

Let no face be kept in minde,

but the most fair Rosalinde.

Clo. I'le rime you ſo, eight yeareſ together; dinners,
and fluppers, and fleeping houres excepted: it is the right
Butter-womens rank to Market.

Ros. Out Foole.

Clo. For a tafe.

If a Hart doe lacke a Hinde,

Let him ſeek out Rosalinde :

If the Cat will after kinde,

ſo be ſure will Rosalinde :

Winter Garments muſt be linde,

ſo muſt Slender Rosalinde :

They that reap muſt ſheafe and binde,

thent to Cart with Rosalinde.

Sweetest meat hath ſowreſt rinde,

such a nut is Rosalinde.

He that sweetest rose ſe finde,

muſt finde Loves prick, and Rosalinde.

This is the very falſe gallop of Verſes, why does you inſect
your ſelf with them ?

Ros. Peace you dull fool, I found them on a tree.

Clo. Truly the tree yields bad fruit.

Ros. I'le graſſe it with you, and then I ſhall graſſe it
with a Medler : then it will be the carliet fruit in the coun-
trye : for you'l be rotten e're you be half ripe, and that's
the right virtue of the Medler.

Clo. You have faid : but whether wifely or no, let the
Forreſt judge.

Enter Celia with a Writing,

Ros. Peace, here comes my fifter reading, fland afide.

Cel. Why should this Deſart be,

for it is unpeopled ? Noe :

Tongs I'le hang on every tree,

that ſhall civil ſaymes ſhoe.

Some, how brief the Life of man

runs his erring pilgrimage,

That the stretching of a ſpan,

buckles in his ſumme of age.

Some of violated vowes,

twixt the fouls of friend, and friend,

Bnt upon the faireſt bowes,

or at every ſentence end ;

Will I Rosalinda write,

teaching all that read, to know

This quinteſcence of every ſrite,

heaven would in little ſhow.

Therefore heaven Nature chang'd,

that one body ſhould be fill'd

With all Graces wide enlarg'd,

nature preſently diſtill'd

R 2

Helen

As you like it.

197

againft whom I know no faults.

Jag. The worſt fault you have, is to be in love.

Orl. 'Tis a fault I will not change for your beſt virtue:
I am weary of you.

Jag. By my troth, I was feeking for a Fool, when I
found you.

Orl. He is drown'd in the brook, look but in, and
you shall fee him.

Jag. There I'llall fee mine own figure.

Orl. Which I take to be either a Fool, or a Cipher.

Jag. I'll tarry no longer with you, farewell good fig-
nior Love.

Orl. I am glad of your departure : Adieu good Mon-
fleur Melancholly.

Ref. I will ſpeak to him like a fawcie Lacky, and un-
der that habit play the knave with him : doe you hear

Orl. Very well, what would you ?

(Forrefter.

Ref. I pray you, what i'ft a clock ?

Orl. You should aske me what time o' day : there's no
clock in the Forreſt.

Ref. Then there is no true Lover in the Forreſt, eſſe
ſhing every minute, and groaning every hour would
detect the lazy foot of time, as well as a clock.

Orl. And why not the twiſt foot of time ? Had not
that bin as proper ?

Ref. By no means fir ; Time travels in divers places,
with divers perſons: I'll eate you who Time ambles with-
all, who Time trots withall, who time gallops withall, and
who he stands ſtill withall.

Orl. I prethee, whom doth he trot withall ?

Ref. Marry he trots hard with a young maid, between
the contraſt of her marriage, and the day it is ſolemniz'd :
if the interim be but a ſeennight, Times pace is ſo hard,
that it feems the length of ſeven year.

Orl. Who ambles time withall ?

Ref. With a Prief that lacks Latine, and a rich man
that hath not the Gowte : for the one ſleeps eafily be-
caufe he cannot ſudy, and the other lives merrily, be-
caufe he feels no pain : the one lacking the burthen of
lean and waſtefull Learning ; the other knowing no bur-
then of heavy tedious penury. Theſe time ambles with-
all.

Orl. Whom doth he gallop withall ?

Ref. With a thief to the galloWS: for though he go
as ſofly as foot can fall, he thinks himself too ſoon
there.

Orl. Whom ſtayes it fill withall ?

Ref. With Lawyeis in the vacation : for they ſleep be-
tween Terme and Terms, and then they perceive not
how time moves.

Orl. Where dwell you pretty youth ?

Ref. With this Shepheardeſſe my ſitter: here in the
skirts of the Forreſt, like Fringe upon a Petticoat.

Orl. Are you native of this place ?

Ref. As the Cony that you fee dwell where ſhe is
kindled.

Orl. Your accent is ſomething finer, than you could
purchaſe in ſo removed a dwelling.

Ref. I have bin told ſo of many : but indeed, an old
religious Unckle of mine taught me to ſpeak, who was in
his youth an inland man, one that knew Courtſhip too
well : for there he fell in love, I have heard him read ma-
ny Lectures againſt it, I thank God, I am not a Wo-
man to be touch'd with ſo many giddy offences as he
hath generally tax'd their whole ſex withall.

Orl. Can you remember any of the principal evils,

that he laid to the charge of women ?

Ref. There were none principally, they were all like one
another, as half-pence are, every ones fault ſeeming mon-
frous, till his fellow-fault came to match it.

Orl. I prethee recount ſome of them.

Ref. No: I will not caſt away my phyſick, but on
thofe that are ſick. There is a man haunts the Forreſt,
that abufes our young plants with carving Rofalind on
their barkes;hangs Odes upon Hawthorns, and Elegies on
brambles; all (forfooth) deſying the name of Rofalind.
If I could meet that Fancy-monger, I would give him
fome good counſell, for he ſeems to have the Quotidian
of Love upon him.

Orl. I am he that is ſo Love-shak'd; I pray you tell
me your remedy.

Ref. There is none of my Unckles markes upon you :
he taught me how to know a man in love : in which cage
of rufines, I am ſure you are not prifoner.

Orl. What were his markes ?

Ref. A lean cheek, which you have not : a blew eye
and funken, which you have not : an unquæſtible ſpi-
rit, which you have not : a beard neglected, which you
have not : (but I pardon you for that, for ſimply your ha-
ving no beard, is a younger brothers revenue) then your
hole should be ungarter'd, your bonnet unbanded, your
ſleeve unbutton'd, your ſhooe Anti'd, and every thing
about you denionſtrating a careſſe defolation : but you
are no ſuch man, you are rather a point device in your
accountrements, as loving your ſelf, than ſeeming the Lo-
ver of any other.

(I Love.

Orl. Fair youth, I would I could make her believe

Ref. Me believe it? You may as ſoon make her that
you Love believe it, which I warrant ſhe is apſter to doe,
than to conſeſſe ſhe do's : that is one of the points, in the
which women ſtill give the lye to their conſidences. But
in good foot, are you he that hangs the verſes on the
Trees, wherein Rofalind is ſo admіed ?

Orl. I ſwear to thee youth, by the white hand of Ro-
falind I am he, that unfortunate he.

Ref. But are you ſo much in love as your rimes ſpeak?

Orl. Neither rime nor reaſon can expeſſe how much.

Ref. Love is meerly a madneſſe, and I tell you, de-
ferves as well a darke houſe, and a whip, as mad men doe:
and the reaſon why they are not ſo puniſh'd and cured, is
that the Lunacy is ſo ordinary, that the whippers are in
love too : yet I proſeſſe curing it by counſell.

Orl. Did you ever cure any ſo ?

Ref. Yes one, and in this manner. Hee was to imagine
me his Love, his Miſtreſſe : and I fet him every day to
wooe me. At which time would I, being but a mooniſh
youth, grieve, be effeminate, changeable, longing, and
liking, proud, ſantatiſcal, apith, ſhallow, inconſtant, ſull
of teares, ſull of ſmiles ; for every paſſion ſomething,
and for no paſſion truly any thing, as boys and women are
for the moſt part cattel of this colour : would now like
him, now loathe him: then entertain him, then forſwear
him: now weep for him, then ſpit at him ; that I drave
my Suitor from his mad humour of love, to a living hu-
mour of madneſſe, which was to forſwear the full ſtream
of the world, and to live in a nook meerly Monaſtick :
and thus I cur'd him, and this way will take upon me to
waſh your Liver as clear as a found ſheeps heart, that
there ſhall not be one ſpot of love in't.

Orl. I would not be cur'd, youth.

Ref. I would cure you, if you would but call me Rofa-
lind, and come every day to my Coat, and wooe me.

R 3

Orl.

As you like it.

199

Cel. He hath bought a pair of chaft lips of Diana: a
Nun of winters tilthood kiffes not more religioullie,
the very ice of chaftlry is in them.

Ref. But why did he fwear he would come this mor-
ning, and comes not?

Cel. Nay certainly, there is no truth in him.

Ref. Do you think so?

Cel. Yes, I think he is not a pick purſe; nor a horſe-
ſtealer, but for his verity in love, I do think him as con-
cave as a covered goblet, or a Worme-eaten nut.

Ref. Not true in love?

Cel. Yes, when he is in, but I think he is not in.

Ref. You have heard him fwear downright he was.

Cel. Was, is not is: befides, the oath of a Lover is no
ftronger then the word of a Tapſter, they are both the
confirmer of false reckonings, he attends here in the for-
reſt on the Duke your father.

Ref. I met the Duke yefterday, and had much queſti-
on with him: he askt me of what parentage I was; I told
him of as good as he, fo he laugh'd and let me go. But
what talk we of. Fathers, when there is fuch a man as
Orlando?

Cel. O that's a brave man he writes brave verſes, ſpeaks
brave words, ſwears brave oaths, and breaks them
bravely, quite cravers athwart the heart of his lover, as a
pufny Tilter, that ſpurres his horſe but on one ſide,
breaks his ſtaffe like a noble goſe; but all's brave that
youth mounts, and folly guides: who comes here?

Enter Corin.

Corin. Miftres and Maſter, you have enquired.

After the Shepheard that complain'd of love,
Whom you ſaw fitting by me on the Turſe,
Praising the proud diſdainfull Shepheardels
That was his Miftres.

Cel. Well: and what of him?

Cor. If you will fee a pageant truly plaid

Between the pale complection of true Love,
And the red glow of ſcorn and proud diſdain,
Go hence a little, and I ſhall conduct you.

If you will mark it.

Ref. O come, let us remove,

The fight of Lovers feedeth thofe in love:

Bring us to this fight, and you ſhall ſay

Ile prove a bufic actor in their play.

Exeunt.

## Scena Quinta.

Enter Silvins and Phebe.

Sil. Sweet Phebe do not ſcorn me; do not, Phebe,
Say that you love me not, but ſay not fo
In, bitternefs; the common executioner,
Whofe heart th'accuſtom'd fight of death makes hard,
Falls not the axe upon the humbled neck,
But firſt begns pardon: will you ſterner be
Then he that dies and lives by bloody drops?

Enter Rofalind, Celia, and Corin.

Phe. I would not be thy executioner,
I ſlie thee, for I would not injure thee:
Thou telſt me there is murther in mine eye,
'Tis pretty ſure, and very probable,

That eyes that are the frailſt, and foſſteſt things;

Who that their coward gates on atomes,

Should be called tyrants, butchers, murtherers.

Now I do frown on thee with all my heart,
And if mine eyes can wound, now let them kill thee:

Now counterſeit to ſwound, why now fall down,

Or if thou can't not, oh for ſhame, for ſhame,

Lye not, to ſay mine eyes are murtherers:

Now ſhew the wound mine eye hath made in thee,

Scratch thee but with a pin, and there remains

Some ſcar of it: Lean but upon a ruſh,

The Cicatrice and capable imprefſure

Thy Palme ſome moment keeps: but now mine eyes

Which I have darted at thee, hurt thee not,

Nor I am ſure there is no force in eyes

That can do hurt.

Sil. O dear Phebe,

If ever (as that ever may be near)

You met in ſome fresh cheek the power of fancie,

Then ſhall you know the wounds invifible

That Loves keen arrows make.

Phe. But till that time

Come not thou near me: and when that time comes,

Afflict me with thy mocks, pitty me not,

As till that time I ſhall not pitty thee.

Ref. And why I pray you, who might be your mother

That you infult, exult, and all at once

Over the wretched? what though you have no beauty

As by my faith, I fee no more in you

Then without Candle may go dark to bed:

Muſt you be therefore proud and pittileſs?

Why what means this? why do you look on me?

I fee no more in you then in the ordinary

Of natures ſale-work? I'ds my little life,

I think ſhe means to tangle mine eyes too:

No faith, proud Miftres, hope not after it,

'Tis not you inkie browes, your black filk hair,

Your bugle eye-balls, nor your cheek of cream

That can entame my ſpirits to your worſhip.

You foolifh Shepheard, wherefore do you follow her

Like foggy South, puffing with winde and rain,

You are a thousand times a properer man

Then ſhe a woman. 'Tis ſuch fooles as you

That makes the world full of ill-favou'd children:

'Tis not her glafs, but you that flatters her,

And out of you ſhe fees her ſelf more proper

Then any of her lineaments can ſhow her:

But Miftris, know your ſelf, down on your knees

And thank heaven, faſting for a good mans love;

For I muſt tell you friendly in your ear:

Sell when you can, you are not for all markets:

Cry the man mercy, love him, take his offer,

Foul is moſt foul, being foule to be a ſcoffer.

So take her to thee, Shepheard, fare you well.

Phe. Sweet youth, I pray you chide a year together,
I had rather hear you chide then this man wooe.

Ref. He's fal'n in love with your foulneſs, and ſhe'll
Fall in love with my anger. If it be ſo, as ſaſt

As ſhe anſwers thee with frowning looks, I'le ſauce

Her with bitter words: why look you ſo upon me?

Phe. For no ill will I bear you.

Ref. I pray you do not fall in love with me,

For I am falſer then vowes made in wine:

Befides, I like you not: if you will know my ſhouſe,

'Tis at the tuſt of Olives, here hard by:

Will you go Sifter? Shepheard ply her hard:

Come

As you like it.

200

Come Sifter, Shepherdess, look on him better
And be not proud, though all the world could see,
None could be so abus'd in fight as he.

Come to our flock.

Exit.

Phe. Deed Shepheard, now I finde thy faw of might,
Who ever lov'd, that lov'd not at first fight?

Sil. Sweet Phebe.

Phe. Hah : what fayeft thou Silvius ?

Sil. Sweet Phebe, pity me.

Phe. Why I am forry for thee, gentle Silvius.

Sil. Where ever forrow is, relief would be :

If you do forrow at my grief in love,
By giving love your forrow, and my grief
Were both extermin'd.

Phe. Thou haft my love, is not that neighbourly ?

Sil. I would have you.

Phe. Why that were covetounefs :

Silvius; the time was, that I hated thee;
And yet, it is not, that I bear thee love,

But fince that thou canſt talk of love fo well,

Thy company, which earſt was irkeſome to me

I will endure ; and Ile employ thee too :

But do not look for further recompence.

Then thine own gladneſs, that thou art employed.

Sil. So holy, and fo perfect is my love,

And iuch a poverty of grace,
That I ſhall think it a moſt plentious crop

To glean the broken ears after the man

That the main harvest reaps : loofe now and then

A scattered ſmile, and that Ile live upon. (while ?

Phe. Know it thou the youth that ſpoke to me yere-

Sil. Not very well, but I have met him of's :

And he hath bought the Cottage and the bounds,
That the old Carlot once was Maſter of.

Phe. Think not I love him, though I ask for him,

'Tis but a peevish boy, yet he talks well,

But what care I for words ? yet words do well,

When he that ſpeaks them pleafes thofe that hear :

It is a pretty youth, not very pretty.

But fure he's proud, and yet his pride becomes him :

He'll make a proper man : the beſt thing in him

Is his complexion : and faſter then his tongue

Did make offence, his eye did heal it up :

He is not very tall, yet for his years he's tall :

His leg is but ſo ſo, and yet 'tis well :

There was a pretty redneſs in his lip,

A little riper, and more lufty red

Then that mix'd in his cheek : 'twas juſt the difference
Betwixt the confant red, and mingled Damask.

There be ſome women, Silvius, had they mark'd him
In parcels as I did, would have gone near

To fall in love with him : but for my part

I love him not, nor hate him not : and yet

I have more caufe to hate him then to love him,

For what had he to do to chide at me ?

He faid mine eyes were black and my hair black,

And now I am remembred, Icov'n'd at me :

I marvell why I anſwer'd not again,
But that's all one : omittance is no quittance:

I le write to him a very tanting Letter,

And thou ſhalt bear it, wilt thou, Silvius ?

Sil. Phebe, with all my heart.

Phe. I'le write it ſtraight :

The matter's in my head, and in my heart,
I will be bitter with him, and paſſing ſhort ;

Go with me, Silvius.

Actus Quartus. Scena Prima.

Enter Rofalinde, and Celia, and Jaques.

Jaq. I prethee, pretty youth, let me be better acquaint
ed with thee.

Rof. They ſay you are a melancholly fellow.

Jaq. I am fo : I do love it better then laughing.

Rof. Thofe that are in extremity of either, are abom-
nable ſelues, and betray themselves to every modern
censure, worſe then drunkards.

Jaq. Why, 'tis good to be ſad and ſay nothing.

Rof. Why then 'tis good to be a poſt.

Jaq. I have neither the Schollers melancholly, which
is emulation : nor the Mufitians, which is fantastical :
nor the Courtiers, which is proud : nor the Souldiers,
which is ambitious : nor the Lawyers, which is politick :
nor the Ladies, which is nice : nor the Lovers, which
is all theſe : but it is a melancholly of mine own , com-
pounded of many ſimples, extracted from many objeſts,
and indeed the ſindrie contemplations of travells, in
which my often rumination , wraps me in a moſt humo-
rous ſadneſs.

Rof. A Traveller : by my faith you have great reaſon
to be ſad : I fear you have fold your own Lands, to fee
other mens; then to have feen much, and to have nothing,
is to have rich eyes and poor hands.

Jaq. Yes, I have gain'd my experience.

Enter Orlando.

Rof. And your experience makes you ſad : I had rather
have a foole to make me merry , then experience to make
me ſad, and to travell for it too.

Orl. Good day, and happineſs, dear Rofalinde.

Jaq. Nay then God buy you, and you talk in blank
verſe.

Rof. Farewell Mounſieur Traveller : look you lip,
and wear ſtrange ſuits ; diſable all the benefits of your
own Countrie : be out of love with your nativity, and al-
moſt chide God for making you that countenance you are;
or I will ſcare think you have ſwam in a Gundello, Why
how now Orlando, where have you bin all this while? you
a lover ? and you ſerve me ſuch another trick, never
come in my fight more.

Orl. My fair Rofalinde, I come within an hour of my
promife.

Rof. Break an hours promife in love ? he that will di-
vide a minute into a thouſand parts, and break but a part
of the thouſand part of a minute in the affairs of love,
it may be ſad of him that Cupid hath clapt him oth'
shoulder , but I'le warrant him heart hole.

Orl. Pardon me dear Rofalinde.

Rof. Nay, and you be ſo tardy , come no more in my
fight, I had as lief be woo'd of a Snaile.

Orl. O ſa Snaile ?

Rof. I, of a Snaile : for though he comes flowly, he
carries his houſe on his head : a better joynture I think
then you make a woman : beſides, he brings his deſtiny
with him.

Orl. What's that ?

Rof. Why horns : which ſuch as you are fain to be be-
holding to your wives for; but he come armed in his for-
tune, and prevents the flander of his wife.

Orl. Vertue

As you like it.

103

A sheep-coat, fenc'd about with Olive-trees.

Cel. Weft of this place down in the neighbour bottome
The rank of Oziers, by the mirroring fitream
Left on your right hand, bring you to the place :
But at this hour the houle doth keep it selfe,
There's none within.

Oli. If that an eye may profit by a tongue,
Then should I know you by description,
Such garments, and such years: the boy is fair,
Of female favour, and beftowes himself
Like a ripe fifter: But the woman low
And browner then her brother: are not you

The owner of the houfe I did enquire for ?

Cel. It is no boast, being ask'd, to fay we are.

Oli. Orlando doth commend him to you both,
And to that youth he calls his *Rofalinde*,
He fends this bloudy napkin; are you he ?

Ref. I am: what muſt we understand by this?

Oli. Some of my ſhame, if you will know of me
What man I am, and how, and why, and where
This handkercher was ſtaɪn'd.

Cel. I pray you tell it.

Oli. When laſt the young Orlando parted from you,
He left a promife to return again.
Within an houre, and pacing through the Forreft,
Chewing the food of sweet and bitter fancie,
Loe what beſell : he threw his eye aſide,
And mark what objeſt did preſent it ſelf
Under an old Oak, whose bows were moſſ'd with age,
And high top bald with drie antiquity :

A wretched ragged man, ore-grown with hair
Lay sleeping on his back; about his neck
A green and gilded ſnake had wreath'd it ſelf,
Who with her head, nimble in threats approach'd
The opening of his mouth; but fuddently
Seeing *Orlando*, it unlink'd it ſelf,
And with indented glides, did flip away
Into a bufh, under whose buffes ſhade
A *Lionefs*, with udders all drawn drie,
Lay cowching head on ground, with catlike watch
When that the sleeping man ſhould fir; for 'tis
The royall diſpoſition of that beaſt
To prey on nothing, that doth ſeem as dead :
This ſeen, *Orlando* did approach the man,
And found it was his brother, his elder brother.

Cel. O I have heard him ſpeak of that fame brother,
And he did render him the moſt unnaturall
That liv'd amongſt men,

Oli. And well he might ſo doe,
For well I know he was unnaturall.

Ref. But to *Orlando*: did he leave him there
Food to the fuck'd and hungry *Lionefs*?

Oli. Twice did he turn his back and purpos'd ſo :
But kindneſs, nobler ever then revenge,
And nature ſtronger then his juſt occafion,
Made him give battle to the *Lionefs*:
Who quickly fell before him, in which hurtling
From niferable flumber I awaked.

Cel. Are you his brother ?

Ref. Was't you he refuſ'd ?

Oli. Was't you that did ſo oft contrive to kill him ?
Oli. 'Twas I: but 'tis not I: I do not ſhame
To tell you what I was, ſince my converſion

So fweetly taſtes, being the thing I am.

Ref. But for the bloudy napkin ?

Oli. By and by:

When from the firſt to laſt bewtix us two,
Tears our recountments had moſt kindly bath'd;
As how I came into that Defart place.
In brief, he led me to the gentle Duke,
Who gave me fresh array, and entertainments,
Committing me unto my brothers love,
Who led me inſtantly unto his Cave,
There ſtript himſelf, and here upon his arme
The *Lionefs* had torn ſome fleſh away,
Which all this while had bled; and now he fainted;
And cri'd in fainting upon *Rofalinde*.
Brief, I recover'd him, bound up his wound,
And after ſome ſmall ſpace, being ſtrong at heart,
He ſent me hither, ſtranger as I am
To tell this, that you might excufe
His broken promife, and to give this napkin
Died in his bloud, unto the Shepheard youth,
That he in ſport doth call his *Rofalinde*.

Cel. Why how now *Ganimed*, ſweet *Ganimed*.

Oli. Many will ſwoon when they do look on bloud.

Oli. There is no more in it; Cofen *Ganimed*.

Oli. Look, he recovers.

Ref. I would I were at home.

Cel. We'll lead you thither:

I pray you take him by the arme.

Oli. Be of good cheer, youth: you a man?

You lack a mans heart.

Ref. I do ſo, I confefs it:
Ah, firra, a body would think this was well counterſit-
ed, I pray you tell your brother how well I counterſit-
neigh-ho.

Oli. This was not counterfeit, there is too great ſe-
ſtimony in your complexion, that it was paffion of car-
neſt.

Ref. Counterfeit, I affure you.

Oli. Well then, take a good heart, and counterfeit
to be a man.

Ref. So I do: but Iſaith, I ſhould have been a woman
by right.

Cel. Come, you look paler and paler: pray you draw
homewards: good fir, go with us,

Oli. That will I: for I muſt bear anſwer back
How you excufe my brother, *Rofalinde*.

Ref. I ſhall devife ſomething; but I pray you commend
my counterfeiting to him: will you goe ?

Altus Quintus. Scena Prima.

Enter Clown and Audrie.

Clo. We ſhall finde a time *Audrie*, patience gentle
*Audrie*.

And, Faith the Prieft was good enough, for all the
old gentlemans ſaying.

Clo. A moſt wicked Sir *Oliver*, *Audrie*, a moſt vile
*Mar-text*. But *Audrie*, there is a youth here in the For-
reſt layes claim to you.

And, I, I know who'tis: he hath no intereſt in me
in the world: here comes the man you mean.

Enter William.

Clo. It is meat and drink to me to ſee a Clown,

20+

As you like it.

my troth, we that have good wits, have much to anfwer
for: we shall be flouting: we cannot hold.

Will. Good ev'n *Audrey*.

Aud. God ye good ev'n *William*.

Will. And good ev'n to you Sir.

Clo. Good ev'n gentle friend. Cover thy head, cover
thy head : Nay prethe be cover'd. How old are you
Friend ?

Will. Five and twenty Sir.

Clo. A ripe age : is thy name *William*?

Will. *William*, fir.

Clo. A fair name. Was't born i'th Forreft here ?

Will. I fir, I thank God.

Clo. Thank God: A good anfwer:

Art rich ?

Will. 'Faith fir, so, so.

Clo. So, so, is good, very good, very excellent good:
and yet it is not, it is but so, so :

Art thou wife ?

Will. I fir, I have a pretty wir.

Clo. Why, thou fayeft well, I do now remember a fay-
ing: The foole doth think he is wife, but the wifeman
knowes himſelf to be a Foole. The Heathen Philofo-
pher, when he had a defire to eat a Grape, would open
his lips when he put it into his mouth, meaning there-
by, that Grapes were made to eat, and lips to open.
You do love this maid ?

Will. I do fir.

Clo. Give me your hand: Art thou Learned ?

Will. No fir.

Clo. Then learn this of me, To have, is to have. For
it is a figure in Rhetorick, that drink being pow'r'd out
of a cup into a glafs, by filling the one, doth empty the
other. For all your Writers do conſent, that *ipſe* is he:
now you are not *ipſe*, for I am he.

Will. Which he fir?

Clo. He fir, that muſt marry this woman : Therefore
you Clown, abandon : which is in the vulgar, leave the
focietie : which in the boorith, is company, of this ſe-
male : which in the common is woman : which together,
is, abandon the ſocietie of this Female, or Clown thou
perſilheſt : or to thy better understanding, dyſeſt ; or
(to wit) I kill thee, make thee away, translate thy life in-
to death, thy liberty into bondage : I will deal in poy-
fon with thee, or in baſtado, or in ſeel: I will bandy
with thee in ſaction, I will ore-run thee with policy : I
will kill thee a hundred and fifty wayes, therefore trem-
ble and depart.

And. Do good *William*.

Will. God reſt you merry fir.

Exit,

Enter Corin.

Cor. Our Maſter and Miftreſſe feeks you : come away,
away.

Clo. Trip *Audrey*, trip *Audrey*, I attend,
I attend.

Exeunt.

Scena Secunda.

Enter Orlando and Oliver.

Orl. Is't poſſible, that on so little acquaintance you
ſhould like her ? that, but ſeeing, you ſhould love her ?

And loving wooe ? and wooing, ſhe ſhould grant ? And
will you perſvere to enjoy her ?

Orl. Neither call the giddineſſe of it in queſtion; the
poverty of her, the ſmall acquaintance, my ſudden woo-
ing, nor ſudden conſenting: but ſay with me, I love *Ali-
na*: ſay with her, that ſhe loves me; conſent with both,
that we may enjoy each other: it ſhall be to your good:
for my fathers houſe, and all the revenue, that was old Sir
*Rowlands*, will I eſtate upon you, and here live and die a
Shepheard.

Enter Rosalind.

Orl. You have my conſent.
Let your wedding be to morrow: thither will I
Invite the Duke, and all's contented followers:
Go you, and prepare *Aliena*; for look you,
Here comes my *Rosalinde*.

Ros. God fave you brother.

Orl. And you fair fitter.

Ros. Oh my dear *Orlando*, how it grieves me to fee
thee wear thy heart in a ſcarſe

Orl. It is my arme.

Ros. I thought thy heart had been wounded with the
claves of a Lion.

Orl. Wounded it is, but with the eyes of a Lady.

Ros. Did your brother tell you how I counterfeited to
found, when he ſhew'd me your handkercher?

Orl. I and greater wonders then that.

Ros. O, I know where you are : nay, 'tis true: there
was never any thing ſudden, but the fight of two
Rammes, and Cefars Thraſonicall brag, of, I came, ſaw,
and overſame. For your brother, and my ſitter, no ſoon-
er met, but they look'd : no ſooner look'd, but they
lovd; no ſooner lov'd, but they ſigh'd : no ſooner ſigh'd,
but they ask'd one another the reaſon : no ſooner knew
the reaſon, but they fought the remedy: and in theſe
degrees, have they made a pair of ſtaires to marriage,
which they will clime incontinent, or else be incon-
stant before marriage; they are in the very wrath of
love, and they will together. Clubbes cannot part
them.

Orl. They ſhall be married to morrow: and I will
bid the Duke to the Nuptiall. But O, how bitter a thing
it is, to look into happineſs through another man's eyes:
by ſo much the more ſhall I to morrow be at the height
of heart heavineſs, by how much I ſhall think my bro-
ther happy, in having what he wifhes for.

Ref. Why then to morrow, I cannot ſerve your turn
for *Rosalinde*?

Orl. I can live no longer by thinking.

Ros. I will weary you then no longer with idle talk-
ing. Know of me then ( for now I ſpeak to ſome pur-
pole ) that I know you are a Gentleman of good conceit:
I ſpeak not this, that you ſhould bear a good opinion
of my knowledge: inſomuch (I ſay) I know you are: ne-
ther do I labour for a greater eſteem then may in ſome
little meaſure draw a belief from you, to do your ſelf
good, and not to grace me. Believe then, if you pleſe,
that I can doe ſtrange things : I have ſince I was three
year old converſt with a Magitian, moſt profound in
his heart, and yet not damnable. If you do love *Rosalinde*
ſo near the heart, 'as your gefure cries it out: when your
brother marries *Aliena*, you ſhall marry her, I know in-
what ſtraights of fortune ſhe is driven, and it is not
impoſsible to me, if it appear not inconvenient to you,
to

208

The Taming of the Shrew.

Actus Primus. Scena Prima.

Enter Beggar and Hoflese, Christopher Sly.

Beggar.

Le pheeche you infaith.

Hoff. A pair of stocks you Rogue,

Beg. Y are a baggage, the Sfies are no

Rogues. Look in the Chronicles, we came

in with Richard Conquerour : therefore Paucas palla-
bris, let the world slide : Seffa.

Hoff. You will not pay for the glaftes you have burft?

Beg. No, not a deniere: go by S. Jeronimy, go to thy cold bed, and warm thee.

Hoff. I know my remedy, I must go fetch the Head-
borough.

Beg. Third, or fourth, or fifth. Borough, Ile, an'wier
him by Law, I le not budge an inch boy : Let him come,
and kindly. Falls asleep.

Wind horns. Enter a Lord from hunting, with his train.

Le. Huntiman, I charge thee, tender well my hounds,
Brach Merriman, the poor Curre is imboft,
And couple Clowder with the deep-mouth'd brach,
Saw't thou not boy how Silver made it good
At the hedge corner, in the coldeft fault,
I would not lofe the dog for twenty pound.

Hun. Why Belman is as good as he, my Lord,
He cried upon it at the meereft loffe,
And twice to day pick'd out the dulleſt ſent;
Trust me, I take him for the better dog.

Lord. Thou ait a fool, if Eccho were as fleet',
I would eſteem him worth a dozen ſuch :
But fup them well, and look unto them all ,
To morrow I intend to hunt again.

Hun. I will my Lord.

Lord. What's here? one dead, or drunk? See doth he breathe?

2. Hun. He breathes, my Lord. Were he not warm'd with Ale, this were a bed but cold to fleep so foundly.

Lord. O monſtrous beaſt, how like a twine he lies.
Grim death, how foul and loathome is thine image !
Sits, I will practise on this drunken man.
What think you, if he were convey'd to bed,
Wrap'd in fweet cloathes : Rings put upon his ſingers :
A mod ſelicious banquet by his bed,
And brave attendants near him when he wakes,
Would not the Beggar then forget himſelf?

1. Hun. Believe me, Lord, I think he cannot choofe.

2. Hun. It would ſeem ſtrange unto him when he wak'd.

Lord. Even as a flatt'ring dream, or worthieſs fancy.

Then take him up, and manage well the jeſt :

Carry him gently to my faireſt Chamber,

And hang it round with all my wanton pictures:

Balm his foul head in warm diffilled waters,

And burn fweet Wood to make the Lodging fweet :

Procure me Muſick ready when he wakes,

To make a dulcet, and a heavenly found :

And if he chance to ſpeak, be ready ſtraight

(And with a low ſublinſive reverence)

Say, what is it your Honour will command :

Let one attend him with a filver Balon.

Full of Rofe-water, and beſtrew'd with Flowers,

Another bear the Ewer, the third a Diaper,

And ſay, wilt pleafe your Lordſhip cool your hands,

Some one be ready with a coſtly ſuit,

And aske him what apparell he will wear :

Another tell him of his Hounds and Horſe,

And that his Lady mourns at his diſeafe,

Perſwade him that he hath bin Lunatick,

And when he fayes he is, ſay that he dreames,

For he is nothing but a mighty Lord :

This doe, and doe it kindly, gentle ſirs,

It will be paſtine paſſing excellent,

If it be husbandad with modeſty.

1. Hun. My Lord, I warrant you we will play our part,
As he ſhall think by our true diligence
He is no leſſe then what we ſay he is.

Lord. Take him up gently, and to bed with him,
And each one to his office when he wakes.

Sound Trampett.

Sirrah, go fee what Trumpet 'tis that ſounds,

Belike ſome Noble Gentleman that means
(Travelling ſome journey) to repofe himſelf here.

Enter Servingman.

How now? who is it?

Ser. An't pleafe your Honour, Players
That offer ſervice to your Lordſhip.

Enter Players.

Lord. Bid them come near :

Now ſellow's, you are welcome.

Pla. We thank your Honour.

Lor. Doe you intend to stay with me to night ?

2. Pla. So please your Lordſhip to accept our duty.

Lord. With all my heart. This ſellow I remember,
Since once he plaid a Farmer's eldeſt ſon,
'Twas where you woo'd the Gentlewoman ſo well:
I have forgot your name : but ſure that part

Was

The Taming of a Shrew.

209

Was aptly fitted, and naturally perform'd

Sim. I think 'twas Soto, that your Honour means,

Lord. 'Tis very true, thou didst it excellent :

Well you are come to me in happy time,

The rather for I have fome sport in hand,

Wherein your cunning can affift me much.

There is a Lord will hear you play to night ;

But I am doubtfull of your modellies,

Leaft (over-eying of his odde behauiour,

For yet his Honour never heard a Play)

You break into fome merry paflion,

And so offend him : for I tell you firs,

If you should smile, he growes impatient,

Pls. Fear not my Lord, we can contain our felves,

Were he the verie antick in the world.

Lord. Go firva, take them to the Buttery,

And give them friendly welcome every one,

Let them want nothing that my house affords.

Exit one with the Players.

Sirra go you to Baytholmew my Page,

And fee him dreft in all fuits like a Lady :

That done, conduct him to the Drunkards chamber,

And call him Madam, doe him obeifance :

Tell him from me (as he will win my love)

He bear himſelf with honourable action

Such as he hath obſerv'd in noble Ladies

Unto their Lords, by them accomplished,

Such duty to the Drunkard let him doe :

With soft low tongue, and lowly courteſe,

And ſay: What is't your Honour will command,

Wherein your Lady, and your humble Wife,

May ſhew her duty, and make known her love.

And then with kind embracements, tempting kiffes,

And with declining head into his boſome

Bid him ſhed teares, as being over-joyed

To fee her noble Lord reſtor'd to health,

Who for this feven yeares hath eſteemed him

No better then a poor and loathsome beggar :

And if the boy have not a womans gift

To rain a flower of commanded teares,

An Onion will doe well for such a ſhaft,

Which in a Napkin (being cleote convey'd)

Shall in defpight enforce a watry eye :

See this dispatch'd with all the haſt thou canſt,

Anon I'll give thee more inſtructions.

Exit a Servingman.

I know the boy will well uſurpe the grace,

Voyce, gate, and action of a Gentlewoman.

I long to hear him call the Drunkard, Husband,

And how my men will ſay themselves from laughter,

When they doe homage to this ſimple peafant,

I'le in to countell them : haply my prefence

May well abate the over-merry ſpleen,

Which otherwife would grow into extreames,

Enter aloft the Drunkard with attendants, fome with ap-
parel, Bafon & Ewer, & other appurtenances, & Lord.

Beg. For Gods ſake a pot of small Ale.

1. Ser. Wil't pleafe your Lordship a drink a cup of fack ?

2. Ser. Wil't pleafe your Honour taſte of these Con-
ſerves ?

3. Ser. What raiment will your Honour wear to day.

Beg. I am Chriſtophero Slie, call not me Honour nor
Lordship : I ne're drank ſack in my life : and if you give
me any Conſerves, give me Conſerves of Beef : ne're ask
me what raiment I'le wear, for I have no more Doubles

then Backs: no more Stockings then Legges: nor no
more Shooes then Feet, nay sometimes more Feet then
Shooes, or ſuch Shooes as my Toes look through the over-
leather.

Ler. Heaven ceaſe this idle humour in your Honour,

Oh that a mighty man of ſuch delent ;

Of ſuch poſſedlons, and ſo high eſteem,

Should be infused with ſo foul a ſpirit.

Beg. What, would you make me mad ? Am not I Chri-
stophero Slie, old Slie's ſon of Burton-heath, by birth a
Pedler, by education a Card-maker, by tranſmutation a
Bear-heard, and now by preſent preſeption a Tinker. Ask
Marrian Hacket the fat Ale-wife of Wincor, if he know
me not : if he ſay I am not xiv.d. on the ſcore for ſheere
Ale, ſcore me up for the lyingſt knave in Chriſtendome.
What I am not beſtraught : here's----------

1. Man. Oh this it is that makes your Lady mourn.

2. Man. Oh this is it that makes your ſervants droop.

Lord. Hence comes it that your kindred ſhuns your
Asbeaten hence by your ſtrange Lunacy.

Oh Noble Lord, betheink thyselfe birth,

Call home thy ancient thoughts from banifhment,

And banifh hence the abject lowly dreames :

Look how thy ſervants doe attend on thee,

Each in his office ready at thy beck.

Wilt thou have Mufick ? Heark, Apollo playes,

Mufick.

And twenty caged Nightingales do ſing,

Or wilt thou ſleep ? We'll have thee to a Couch,

Softer and ſwetter then the luſtfull bed

On purpofe trimm'd up for Semirawis.

Say thou wilt walk: we will beſtrow the ground,

Or wilt thou ride ? thy horſes shall be trapp'd,

Their harneſſe ſtudded all with Gold and Pearl.

Doſt thou love hawking ? thou haſt Hawkes will ſoare

Above the morning Larke. Or wilt thou hunt,

Thy Hounds ſhall make the Welkin anſwer them,

And fetch ſhillr ecchoes from the hollow earth.

1. Man. Say thou wilt courſe, thy Gray-hounds are as
As breathed Stags: I, fleeter then the Roe. (ſwift

2. M. Doſt thou love pietures? we will fetch thee ſtraight

Adonis painted by a running brook,

And Citherea all in ſedges hid,

Which seem to move, and wanton with her breath,

Even as the waving ſedges play with winde.

Lord. We'll ſhew thee Jo, as she was a Maid,

And how she was egluiled and ſupriz'd,

As lively painted, as the deed was done.

3. Man. Or Daphne roming through a thorny wood,
Scratching her Legs; that one ſhall ſwear ſhe bleeds,
And at that fight ſhall ſad Apollo weep,

So workmanly the blood and teares are drawn.

Lord. Thou art a Lord, and nothing but a Lord :
Thou haſt a Lady far more beautifull,
Then any woman in this waining age.

1. Man. And till the teares that ſhe hath ſhed for thee,
Like envious flouds, o're-run her lovely face,
She was the faireſt creature in the world,

And yet ſhe is inferiour to none.

Beg. Am I a Lord, and have I ſuch a Lady?

Or doe I dream ? or have I dream'd till now ?

I doe not ſleep : I ſee, I hear, I ſpeak :

I smell ſweete favours, and I feel loft things :

Upon my life I am a Lord indeed,

And not a Tinker, nor Chriſtophero Slie.

Well, bring our Lady hither to our fight,

And once again a pot o'th' ſmallest Ale.

S 3

2. Man.

The Taming of a Shrew.

210

2. Man. Will't please your Mightineſt to wath your
hands?

Oh how we joy to fee your wits reſtor'd,
Oh that once more you knew but what you are :
Theſe fifteen yeares you have bin in a dream,
Or when you wak'd, fo wak'd as if you flept.

Beg. Theſe fifteen yeares, by my fay, a goodly nap,
But did I never ſpeak of all that time?

t. Man. Oh yes, my Lord, but very idle words,
For though you lay here in this goodly chamber,
Yet would you fay, ye were beaten out of door,
And rail upon the Hofteſſe of the Houſe,
And fay you would preſent her at the Leet,
Because the brought Stone-Jugs, and no ſeel'd quarts :
Sometimes you would call out for Cicely Hacket.

Beg. I, the womans maid of the houſe.

3.Ma. Why fir,you know no houſe,nor no ſuch maid,
Nor no ſuch men as you have reckon'd up,
As Stephen Slie, and old John Naps of Greece,
And Peter Turph, and Henry Pimpernell,
And twenty more ſuch names and men as thieſe,
Which never were, nor no man ever ſaw.

Beg. Now Lord be thanked for my good amends.

All. Amen.

Enter Lady with Attendants.

Beg. I thank thee, thou ſhalt not lſoſe by it.

Lady. How fares my noble Lord?

Beg. Marry I fare well, for here is cheer enough.

Where is my Wife?

La. Here noble Lord, what is thy will with her ?

Beg. Are you my Wife, and will not call me Husband?
My men should call me Lord, I am your good-man.

La. My Husband and my Lord, my Lord and Husband,
I am your Wife in all obedience.

Beg. I know it well, what muſt I call her ?

Lord. Madam.

Beg. Alice Madam, or Jone Madam ?

Lord. Madam, and nothing else, fo Lords call Ladies.

Beg. Madam Wife, they ſay that I have dream'd,
And flept about ſome fifteen year or more.

Lady. I, and the time ſeems thirty unto me,
Being all this time abandon'd from your bed.

Beg. 'Tis much, ſervants leave me and her alone :
Madam undreſſe you, and come now to bed.

La. Thrice noble Lord, let me entreat of you
To pardon me yet for a night or two :

Or if not ſo, untill the Sun be fet.

For your Phyſicians have expreſſely charg'd,

In perill to incurre your former malady,

That I ſhould yet abſent me from your bed :
I hope this reaſon ſtands for my excufe.

Beg. I, it ſtands ſo that I may hardly tarry ſo long:
But I would be loth to fall into my dreames again: I will
therefore tarry in despight of the ſlesh and the blood.

Enter a Meſſenger.

Mef. Your Honours Players hearing your amendment,
Are come to play a pleafant Comedy,

For ſo your Doctours hold it very meet,

Seeing too much ſadneſſe hath congeal'd your blood,
And melancholly is the Nurſe of frenzy,

Therefore they thought it good you hear a Play,

And frame your mind to mirth and merriment,

Which barres a thouſand harmes, and lengthens life.

Beg. Many I will, let them play, it is not a Comen-

ty, a Chriftmas gambold, or a tumbling trick ?

Lady. No my good Lord, it is more pleafing ſtuffe.

Beg. What,houſholdſtuffe?

Lady. It is a kind of hiftory.

Beg. Well, we'l ſee't:

Come Madam Wife, fit by my ſide,
And let the world ſlip, we ſhall ne're be younger.

Flourish. Enter Lucentio, and his man Tranio.
Luc. Tranio, ſince for the great defire I had

To fee fair Padua, nurſery of Arts,

I am arriv'd for ſuittfull Lumbardy,

The pleafant garden of great Italy,

And by my fathers love and leave am arm'd
With his good will, and thy good company.

My truſty ſervant well approv'd in all,

Here let us breathe, and happily inſiute

A course of Learning, and ingenious ſtudies.

Pisa renowned for grave Citizens

Gave me my being, and my father firſt.

A Merchant of great Traſſick through the world:

Vincentio's come of the Bentivoli,

Vincentio's ſon, brought up in Florence,

It ſhall become to ſerve all hopes conceiv'd

To deck his fortune with his virtuous deeds :

And therefore, Tranio, for the time I ſtudy,

Virtue and that part of Philofophy

Will I apply, that treats of happineſſe.

By virtue ſpecially to atchiev'd.

Tell me thy minde, for I have Pisa left,

And am to Padua come, as he that leaves

A ſhallow plaſh, to plunge him in the deep:

And with fatiſe ſeeks to quench his thirſt.

Tra. Me Pardonate, gentle after mine:

I am in all affected as your ſelf,

Glad that you thus continue your reſolve,

To ſuck the fweets of ſweet Philofophy.

Onely (good after) while we doe admire

This virtue, and this morall diſcipline,

Let's be no Stoicks, nor no ſtocks I pray;

Or ſo devote to Ariffotles checks,

As Ovid be an out-caſt quite abjur'd :

Balke Logick with acquaintance that you have,

And practice Rhetorick in your common ſtalke,

Mufick and Poſſe uſe, to quicken you,

The Mathematicks, and the Metaphyſicks,

Fall to them as you find your ſtomack ſerves you:

No profit growes, where is no pleasure tane :

In brief fir, ſtudy what you moſt affect,

Luc. Gramerieſ Tranio, well doſt thou advife,

If Biandello thou wert come aſhore,

We could at once put us in rea diſeineſſe,

And take a Lodging fit to entertain

Such friends (as time) in Padua ſhall beget.

But ſtay a while, what company is this?

Tra. Maſter fome ſhew to welcome us to Town.

Enter Bapſiſa with his two daughters, Katherina and Bianca, Gremio a Pantaleowne, Hortenſo a Suitor to Bianca, Lucen. Tranio, ſtand by.

Bap. Gentlemen, importune me no farther,

For how I firmly am reſolv'd you know :

That is, not to beſtow my youngeſt daughter,

Before I have a husband for the elder:

If either of you both love Katherina,

Becaufe

The Taming of the Shrew.

211

Because I know you well, and love you well,
Leave shall you have to court her at your pleasure.

Gre. To cart her rather. She's too rough for me,
There, there Hortentio, will you any Wife?

Kat. I pray you fir, is it your will

To make a ftale of me among it thoſe mates ?

Hor. Mates maid, how mean you that ?

No mates for you,

Unleſſe you were of gentler milder mould,

Kat. I'faith fir, you shall never need to fear,

I-wis it is not halſe way to her heart :

But if it were, doubt not, her care shall be,

To coniue your noddle with a three-legg'd ſtoole,

And paint your face, and uſe you like a ſtoole.

Hor. From all ſuch devils, good Lord deliver us.

Gre. And me too, good Lord.

Tra. Hush'd maifter, heres ſome good paſtine toward,
That wench is ſtark mad or wonderfull froward.

Luc. But in the others ſilence do I fee,

Maids milde behaviour and ſobrietie.

Peace Tranio.

Tra. Well faid Maifter, mum and gaze your fill.

Bap. Gentlemen, that I may ſoon make good

What I have faid, Bianca, get you in,

And let it not diſpleafe the good Bianca,

For I will love thee ne're the leſſe my girle.

Kat. A pretty peat, it is beſt put finger in the eye,
and I the knew why.

Bian. Sifter content you, in my diſcontent.

Sir, to your pleasure humbly I ſubſcribe :

My books and inſtruments ſhall be my company,

On them to lookes and praſeſtive by my ſelf.

Luc. Heark Tranio, thou maſſt hear Minerva ſpeak.

Hor. Signior Bapſiſt, will you be ſo ſtrange,

Sorry am I that our good will effects

Bianca's grief.

Gre. Why will you mew her up

(Signior Bapſiſt) for this fiend of hell,

And make her bear the penance of her tongue ?

Bap. Gentlemen content ye : I am reſolv'd:

Go in Bianca.

And for I know the taketh moſt delight

In Mufick, Inſtruments, and Poetry,

Schoolemaſtbers will I keep within my ſhouse,

Fit to inſtruct her youth. If you Hortentio,

Or fignior Gremio you know any ſuch,

Prefere them hither : for to cunning men,

I will be very kinde and liberall,

To mine own children, in good bringing up,

And for forewell: Katherina you may ſtay,

For I have more to commune with Bianca.

Exit.

Kat. Why, and I truſt I may go too, may

What ſhall I be appointed houres, as though

(Belike) I knew not what to take,

And what to leave? Ha.

Exit.

Gre. You may go to the devils dam : your gifts are ſo
good, here's none will hold you : Our love is not ſo
great Hortentio, but we may blow our nails together, and
ſaſt it fairly out. Our cakes' dow on both fides. Fare
well: yet for the love I bear my ſweet Bianca, if I can
by any means light on a ſit man to teach her that wherein
the delights, I will with him to her father.

Hor. So will I Signior Gremio: but a word I pray:
Though the nature of our quarrell yet never brook'd
parlee, know now upon advice, it toucheth us both : that
we may yet again have acceſſe to our fair Miftris,

be happy rivals in Bianca's love, to labour and effect one
thing ſpecially.

Gre. What's that I pray ?

Hor. Marry fir, to get a husband for her filter,

Gru. A husband : a devil,

Hor. I fay a husband.

Gre. I fay a devill: Think it thou, Hortentio, though
her father be very rich, any man is ſo very a ſtoole to be
married to hell ?

Hor. Tufh'd Gremio; though it paffe your patience and
mine to endure her lewd alarums, why man, there be
good ſelowes in the world, and a man could light on them,
Would take her with all faults, and money enough.

Gre. I cannot tell: but I had as lief take her dowry
with this condition: To be whipt at the high eſſe every
morning.

Hor. Faith (as you fay) there's ſmall choice in rotten
apples: come, fince this bar in law makes us friends, it
ſhall be ſo forthend maintaining, till by helping
Baptiſa's eldeſt daughter to a husband, we fet his young-
eſt free for a husband, and then have too't afreſh: Sweet
Bianca, happy man be his dole: he that runnes faſſeſt,
gets the Ring: How ſay you fignior Gremio ?

Grem. I am agreed, and would I had given him the beſt
horſe in Padua to begin his wooing that would through-
ly wooe her, wed her, and bed her, and rid the houſe of
her. Come on.

Excut ambe, Manet Tranio and Lincencio.

Tra. I pray fir tell me, is't poffible

That love ſhould on a ſudden take ſuch hold.

Luc. Oh Tranio, till I found it to be true,
I never thought it poffible or likely.

But fee, while idely I ſtood looking on,

I found the effect of Love in idlenefſe,

And now in plainneſſe to confefſe to thee

That art to me as ſecret and as dear

As Anna to the Queen of Carthage was :

Tranio I burn, I pine, I perſh Tranio,

If I atchieve not this young modeſt girl :

Councell me Tranio, for I know thou can't ſt:

Affift me Tranio, for I know thou wilt.

Tra. Maſter, it is ſo time to chide you now.

Aſſection is not rated from the heart :

If love touch'd you, nought remains but ſo,

Redime te captum quam quæs minimo.

Luc. Gramercies Lad: go forward, this contents,
The reſt will comfort, for thy counſel's found.

Tra. Maſter, you'll look'd to ſo longely on the maid
Perhaps you mark'd not what's the pith of all.

Luc. Oh yes, I ſaw ſweet beauty in her face,

Such as the daughter of Agenor had,

That made great Jove to humble him to her hand,

When with his knees he kilt the Cretan ſtrend.

Tra. Saw you no more ? mark'd you not how her filter,
Began to ſcold, and raife up ſuch a ſtorm ?

That mortall ears might hardly endure the din,

Luc. Tranio, I ſaw her corrall lips to move :

And with her breath she did perfume the aire,

Sacred and ſweet was all I ſaw in her.

Tra. Nay, then 'tis time to flir him from his trance :

I pray awake fir : if you love the Maid ;

Bend thoughts and wits to atchieve her. Thus it stands:

Her eldeſt filter is ſo curſt and ſhrew'd,

That till the father rid his hands of her,

Maſter, your love muſt live a maid at home!

And therefore has he cloſely men'd her up,

Because

The Taming of the Shrew.

213

To feek their fortunes farther than at home,
Where small experience growes but in a few,
Signior *Hortentio*, thus it stands with me,
*Antonio* my father is deceaft,
And I have thraut my felf into this maze,
Happily to wive and thrive, as beſt I may:
Crowns in my purſe I have, and goods at home,
And ſo am come abroad to fee the world.

*Hor. Petruchio*, ſhall I then come roundly to thee,
And with thee to a ſhrew'd ill-favour'd wife?
Thou d'ſt thank me but a little for my councell:
And yet I'le promife thee ſhe ſhall be rich,
And very rich : but th'art too much my friend,
And I'le not with thee to her.

*Pet. Signior Hortentio*, 'twixt such friends as we,
Few words ſuffice: and therefore, if thou know
One riche nough to be *Petruchio's* wife:
(As wealth is burthened of my wooing dance)
Be ſhe as foul as was *Florentius* Love,
As old as *Sibell*, as curſt and ſhrew'd
As *Socrates Zantippe*, or a worſe:
She moves me not, or not removes at leaſt
Affections edge in time. Were ſhe as rough
As are the ſwelling *Adriaticke* feas.

I come to wive it wealthily in *Padua*:
If wealthily, then happily in *Padua*.

*Gru.* Nay look you fir, he tells you flatly what his
minde is: why give him Gold enough, and marry him
to a Puppet or an Aglet babie, or an old trot with ne're a
tooth in her head, though ſhe have as many diſeafeſ as
two and fifty horſes. Why nothing comes amſiſ, ſo mo-
ney comes withall.

*Hor. Petruchio*, ſince we are ſtept thus far in,
I will continue that I broach'd in jeſt,
I can *Petruchio* help thee to a wife
With wealth enough, and young and beautious.
Brought up as beſt becomes a Gentlewoman.
Her onely fault, and that is ſault enough,
Is, that ſhe is intollerable curſt,
And ſhrew'd, and froward, ſo beyond all meaſure,
That were my ſlate far worſer then it is,
I would not wed her for a mine of Gold.

*Pet. Hortentio* peace: thou know'ſt not golds effect,
Tell me her father's name, and 'tis enough:
For I will boord her, though ſhe chide as loud
As thunder, when the clouds in Autumnne crack.

*Hor.* Her father is *Baptista Minola*,
An affable and courteous Gentleman,
Her name is *Katherina Minola*,
Renown'd in *Padua* for her ſcolding tongue.

*Pet.* I know her father, though I know not her,
And he knew my deceaſed father well:

I will not ſleep *Hortentio* till I fee her,
And therefore let me be thus bold with you,
To give you over at this ſuſt encounter,
Unleſs you will accompany me thither.

*Gru.* I pray you fir let him go while the humour laſts.
A my word and ſhe knew him as well as I do, ſhe would
think ſcolding would doe little good upon him. She
may perhaps call him half a ſcore Knaves, or ſo: Why
that's nothing; and he begin once, he'll raile in his rope
tricks. I'le tell you what fir, and ſhe ſtand him but a
little, he will throw a figure in her face, and ſo disfigure
her with it, that ſhe ſhall have no more eyes to fee with-
all then a Cat: you know him not fir.

*Hir.* Tarry *Petruchio*, I muſt go with thee,

For in *Baptista's* keep my treaſure is:
He hath the Jewell of my life in hold,
His youngeſt daughter, beautiſull *Bianca*,
And her with-holds he from me, Other more

Suters to her, and riyals in my Love:

Suppofing it a thing impoffible,
For thole defects I have before rehearſt,
That ever *Katherine* will be woo'd:
Therefore this order hath *Baptista* tane,
That none ſhall have acceſs unto *Bianca*,

Till *Katherine* the Curſt, have got a husband.

*Gru. Katherine* the curſt,

A title for a maid, of all titles the worſt.

*Hor.* Now ſhall my friend *Petruchio* do me grace,
And offer me disguis'd in ſober robes,
To old *Baptista* as a schoole-maſter.

Well ſeen in Muſick, to inſtruſt *Bianca*,

That ſo I may by this device at leaſt

Have leave and leifure to make love to her,

And unſuſpected court her by her ſelf.

## Enter Gremio and Lucentio diſguſed

*Gru.* Here's no knavery. See, to beguile the old folks
how the young folks lay their heads together. Mai-
ſter, maſter, look about you: Who goes there? ha.

*Hor.* Peace *Grumio*, it is the riſall of my Love.
*Petruchio* ſtand by a while.

*Gru.* A proper ſtripping, and an amorous,

*Gru.* O very well, I have perſu'd the note.

Heark you fir, I'le have them very fairly bound,

All books of Love, fee that at any hand,

And fee you read no other Lectures to her:

You understand me, over and beſide

*Signior Baptista's* Liberality

I'le mend it with a Largeſe. Take your paper too,

And let me have them very well perfum'd,

For ſhe is sweeter then perfume it ſelf

To whom they go to: what will you read to her?

*Luc.* What ere I read to her, I'le plead for you,
As for my Patron, ſtand you ſo affur'd;

As firmly as your ſelf were ſtill in place,

Yea and perhaps with more ſuccesſull words

Then you; unleſſe you were a ſcholler fir.

*Gre.* Oh this learning, what a thing it is.

*Gru.* Oh this Woodcock, what an Aſſe it is.

*Pet.* Peace firra.

*Hor. Gru.* mum: God fave you ſignior *Gremio*.

*Gre.* And you are well met, Signior *Hortentio*.

Trow you whither I am going ? To *Baptista* Minola,
I promis'd to enquire carefully

About a schoolemaſter for the fair *Bianca*,

And by good fortune I have lighted well

On this young man : For learning and behaviour

Fit for her turn, well read in Poetry

And other books, good ones, I warrant ye.

*Hor.* 'Tis well: and I have met a Gentleman
Hath promis't me to help one to another,

A fine Muſtian to inſtruct our Muſtis,

So ſhall I no whit be behind in duty

To fair *Biauca*, so beloved of me.

*Gre.* Beloved of me, and that my deeds ſhall prove.

*Gru.* And that his bags ſhall prove.

*Hor. Gremio*, 'tis now no time to vent our love,

Liſten to me, and if you peak me fair,

I'le tell you news inſirreſſible for either.

He is a Gentleman whom by chance I met

Upon

Ike Taming of the Shrew.

214

Upon agreement from us to his liking,
Will undertake to wooe curst Katerine,
Yea and to marry her, if her dowry pleafe,
Gre. So faid, fo done; is well:

Hortentio, have you told him all her faults?

Pet. I know she is an inkfome brawling feold:

If that be all, Maifters, I hear no harm.

Gre. No, faileth me fo, friend ? What Countreyman ?

Pet. Born in Verona, old Butonio's fon:
My father dead, my fortune lives for me,
And I do hope, good dayes and long, to fee.

Gre. Oh fir, such a life with such a wife, were strange:

But if you have a fromack, too't a Gods name,
You fhall have me affifting you in all.

But will you wooe this Wilde-cat ?

Pet. Will I live ?

Gru. Will he wooe her ? I: or I le hang her,

Pet. Why came I hither, but so that intent ?

Think you a little dinner can daunt mine ears ?

Have I not in my time heard Lions roar ?

Have I not heard the fea, puf, up with winds,

Rage like an angry Bear, chated with sweat ?

Have I not heard great Ordnance in the field ?

And heavens Artillery thunder in the skies?

Have I not in a pitched battle heard

Loud farums, neighing steeds, and trumpets clangque ?

And do you tell me of a womans tongue?

That gives not half so great a blow to hear,

As will a Chefs-nut in a Farmers fire,

Tush, tush, fear boyes with bugs.

Gru. For he fears none.

Gre. Hortentio hark:

This Gentleman is happily arriv'd,

My minde prefumes for his own good, and yours.

Hor. I promis'd we would be Contributors,

And bear his charge of wooing whatsoever.

Gre. And fo we will, provided that he win her.

Gru. I would I were as fure of a good dinner.

### Enter Tranio brave, and Biondello.

Tra. Gentlemen God fave you. If I may be bold,

Tell me I befeech you, which is the readieft way

To the houſe of Signior Baptifta Minola ?

Rio. He that ha's the two fair daughters : is't he you mean ?

Tra. Even he Biondello.

Gre. Hark you fir, you mean not her to—

Tra. Perhaps him and her, what have you to do ?

Pet. Not her that chides fir, at any hand I pray.

Tra. I love no chiders fir: Biondello, let's away.

Luc. Well begun Tranio.

Hor. Sir, a word ere you go :

Are you a futor to the Maid you talk of, yea or no ?

Tra. And if I be, Sir, is it any offence?

Gre. No: if without more words you will get you hence.

Tra. Why fir, I pray are not the ftreets as free

For me, as for you?

Gre. But is not fhe.

Tra. For what reafon I befeech you.

Gre. For this reaſon if you'l know,

That fhe's the choice love of Signior Gremio.

Hor. That fhe's the choſen of Signior Hortentio.

Tra. Softly my Maifters: If you be Gentlemen

Do me this right: hear me with patience.

Baptifta is a noble Gentleman,

To whom my Father is not all unknown,
And were his daughter fairer then he is,
She may more futors have, and me for one.

Fair Ledaes daughter had a thousand wooers,
Then well may one more fair Bianca have,
And fo the fhall, Lucentio fhall make one,
Though Paris came, in hope to speed alone.

Gre. What, this Gentleman will out-talk us all,

Lu. Sir, give him head, I know he'll prove a Jade.

Pet. Hortentio, to what end are all these words?

Hor. Sir, let me be fo bold, as to ask you,

Did you yet ever fee Baptifta's daughter?

Tra. No fir, but hear I do that he hath two:
The one, as famous for a folding tongue,
As is the other, for beauteous modeſty.

Pet. Sir, fir, the firſt for me, let her go by.

Gre. Yea, leave that labour to great Hercules,
And let it be more then Alcides twelve.

Pet. Sir, understand you this of me (infooth)
The youngest daughter, whom you hearken for,
Her father keeps from all acceds of futors,
And will not promife her to any man,
Untill the elder firſter first be wed.

The younger then is free, and not before.

Tra. If it be fo-fir, that you are the man
Muſt feed us all, and me amongst the reſt :
And if you break the ice, and do this feek,
Atchieve the elder: fet the younger free,
For our acceds, whole hap ſhall be to have her,
Will not be graceleſs be, to be ingrate.

Hor. Sir, you ſay well, and well you do conceive,
And fine do you profefs to be a futor,
You muſt as we do, gratifie this Gentleman,
To whom we all reſt generally beholding.

Tra. Sir, I ſhall not be ſlack, in ſigne whereof,
Please ye we may contrive this afternoon,
And quaff carowſes to our Miftres health,
And do as adveriaries do in law,

Strive nightly, but eat and drink as friends.

Gru. Bion, O excellent motion: ſellowes let's be gone.

Hor. The motion's good indeed, and be it so,

Petrichio, I ſhall be your Ben venuto.

Exenuest.

### Enter Katerine and Bianca.

Bian. Good fitter wrong me not, nor wrong your ſelf,
To make a bondmaid and a ſlave of me;
That I didfain: but for theſe other goods,
Unbind my hands, I le pull them off my ſelf,
Yea all my raiment, to my petticoat,
Or what you will command me, will I do,
So well I know my duty to my elders.

Kat. Of all thy futers here I charge thee tell
whom thou lovſt beſt: fee thou diſſemble not.

Bian. Believe me fitter, of all the men alive,
I never yet beheld that ſpeciall face,
Which I could fancie, more then any other.

Kat. Minion thou lyeft, Is't not Hortentio ?
Bian. If you affect him firſter, here I ſwear
I le plead for you my ſelf, but you ſhall have him.

Kat. Oh then belike you fancy riches more,
You will have Gremio to keep your fair.

Bian. Is it for him you envy me ſo?

Nay then you jeſt, and now I well perceive
You have but jeſted with me all this while :
I prethee, firſter Kate, untie my hands.

Kat. If that be jeſt, then all the reſt was ſo. Strikes her.

Enter

The Taming of the Shrew.

215

Enter Baptista.

Bap. Why how now Dame, whence growes this in-folence?

Bianca: Stand aside, poor girl: fine weeps:
Go ply thy Needle, meddle not with her.
For th' me thou Hilding of a develifi'l spirit,
Why do'ft thou wrong her, that did ne're wrong thee?
When did the cross thee with a bitter word?

Kat. Her silence flouts me, and I'll be reveng'd,

Flies after Bianca.

Bap. What in my fight? Bianca get thee in. Exit
Kat. What will you not suffer me: Nay I fee

She is your treasure, she must have a husband,
I must dance bare-foot on her wedding day,
And for your love to her, lead Apes in hell.
Talk not to me, I will go fit and weep,
Till I can finde occasion of revenge.

Bap. Was ever Gentleman thus griev'd as I?
But who comes here.

Enter Gremio, Lucentio, in the habit of a mean man,
Petruchio with Tranio, with his boy
bearing a Lute and Books.

Gre. Good morrow neighbour Baptista.

Bap. Good morrow neighbour Gremio: God save you Gentlemen.

Pet. And you good fir: pray have you not a daughter,
call'd Katerina, fair and vertuous?

Bap. I have a daughter fir, call'd Katerina,

Gre. You are too blunt, go to it orderly.

Pet. You wrong me Signior Gremio, give me leave.

I am a Gentleman of Verona fir,
That hearing of her beauty, and her wit,
Her affability and bathfull modety:
Her, wondrous qualities, and mild behaviour,
Am bold to flew my self a forward guett
Within your houfe, to make mine eye the witneſs
Of that report, which I ſo oft have heard,
And for an entrance to my entertainment,
I do preſent you with a man of mine
Cunning in Muſick, and the Mathematicks,
To Infructet her fully in those ſciences,
Whereof I know ſhe is not ignorant:
Accept of him, or eſſe you do me wrong,
His name is Licio, born in Mantua.

Bap. Yare welcome fir, and he for your good ſake,
But for my daughter Katerina, this I know,
She is not for your turn, the more's my grief.

Pet. Oh, you do not mean to part with her.
Or eſſe you like not of my company.

Bap. Miftake me not, I ſpeak but what I finde,

Whence are you fir ? What may I call your name.

Pet. Petruchio is my name, Antonio's ſon,

A man well known throughout all Italy.

Bap. I know him well: you are welcome for his ſake.

Gre. Saving your tale Petruchio, I pray let us that are
poor petitioners ſpeak too ? Baccare, you are marvailous
forward.

Pet. Oh, Pardon me Signior Gremio, I would fain be
doing.

Gre. I doubt it not fir. But you will curſe

Your wooing neighbours: this is a gift.

Very grateful, I am ſure of it, to exprefs

The like kindneſs of my ſelf, that have been

More kindly beholding to you then any :

Free leave give unto this young Scholler, that hath

Been long ſtudying at Rhemes, as cunning

In Greek, Latine, and other Languages,

As the other in Muſick and Mathematicks :

His name is Cambio: pray accept his ſervice.

Bap. A thouſand thanks Signior Gremio:

Welcome good Cambio. But gentle fir,

Me thinks you walk like a ſtranger,

May I be ſo bold, to know the caufe of your coming ?

Tra. Pardon me, fir, the boldneſs is mine own,

That being a ſtranger in this City here,

Do make my ſelf a ſuitor to your daughter,
Unto Bianca, fair and vertuous :

Nor is your firm refolve unknown to me,

In the preferment of the eldest ſifter.

This liberty is all that I requeſt,

That upon knowledge of my parentage,

I may have welcome 'mong'ſt the reſt that wooe,

And free acces and favour as the reſt.

And toward the education of your daughters,

I here beſtow a ſinple inſtrument,

And this ſmall packet of Greek and Latine books,

If you accept them, then their worth is great:

Bap. Lucentio is your name: of whence I pray.

Tra. Of Pisa fir, ſon to Vincentio.

Bap. A mighty man of Pisa by report,

I know him well: you are very welcome fir :

Take you the Lute, and you the fet of books,

You ſhall go fee your pupils ſevently.

Holla, within.

Enter a Servant.

Sirra, lead theſe Gentlemen

To my two daughters, and then tell them both

Theſe are their Tutors, bid them uſe them well,

We will go walk a little in the Orchard,

And then to dinner : you are paffing welcome,

And ſo I pray you all to think your ſeves.

Pet. Signior Baptista, my buſineſs asketh hafte,

And every day I cannot come to wooe,

Yow know my father well, and in him me,

Left folie her to all his Lands and goods,

Which I have bettered rather then decreaſt,

Then tell me, if I get your daughters love,

What dowry ſhall I have with her to wife.

Bap. After my death, the one halſe of my Lands,

And in poffeffion twenty thouſand Crowns:

Pet. And for that dowry, I pleaſure her of

Her widow-hood, be it that ſhe ſurvive me,

In all my Lands and Leaſes whatsoever,

Let ſpecialities be therefore drawn between us,

That covenants may be kept on either hand.

Bap. I, when the ſpecial thing is well obtain'd,

That is, her love : for that is all in all.

Pet. Why that is nothing: for I tell you father,

I am as peremptory as ſhe proud minded :

And where two raging fires meet together

They do confume the thing that feeds their ſurie,

Though little fire growes great with little winde,

Yet extream guſts will blow our fire and all :

So I to her, and ſo ſhe yields to me,

For I am rough, and wooe not like a babe.

Bap. Well maſſt thou wooe, and happy be thy ſpeed :

But be thou arm'd for ſome unhappy words.

Pet. I, to the proofe, as Mountains are for windes,

That ſake not, though they blow perpetually.

Enter Hortensio with his head broke.

Bap.

["The Taming of a Shrew.", "217", "And then let *Kate* be chafte, and *Dian* (portfull,", "*Kate.* Where did you study all this goodly speech?", "*Pet.* It is extempore, from my mother wit.", "*Kate.* A witty mother, wittelle elle her son.", "*Pet.* Am I not wife?", "*Kate.* Yes, keep you warne.", "*Pet.* Marry so I mean sweet Katherine in thy bed:\nAnd therefore fetting all this chat alide,", "Thus in plain terms: your father hath consented", "That you shall be my wife: your dowry greed on,\nAnd will you, nil you, I will marry you.", "Now *Kate*, I am a husband for your turn,", "For by this light, whereby I see thy beauty,", "Thy beauty that doth make me like thee well,", "Thou muft be married to no man but me,", "*Enter Baptista, Gremio, Tragno.*", "For I am he born to tame you *Kate*,", "And bring you from a wild *Kat* to a *Kate*", "Conformable as other household Kates:", "Here comes your father, never make deniall,", "I muſt, and will have Katherine to my wife. (daughter", "Bap. Now Signior Petruchio, how speed you with my", "*Pet.* How but well fir ? how but well?", "It were impoffible I should speed amiffie.", "(dumps)", "Bap. Why how now daughter Katherine, in your", "*Kat.* Call you me daughter? now I promife you", "You have ſhew'd a tender fatherly regard,", "To wish me wed to one halfie Lunatick,", "A mad-cap ruffian, and a ſwearing Jack,", "That thinks with oaths to face the matter out.", "*Pet.* Father, 'tis thus, your ſelf and all the world", "That talk'd of her, have talk'd amife of her :", "If he be curſt, it is for policy,", "For ſhe's not forward, but modeſt as the Dove,", "She is not hot, but temperate as the morn;", "For patience ſhe will prove a ſecond Grifſel,", "And Roman Lucrece for her chaſtity :", "And to conclude, we have greed to well together,", "That upon Sunday is the wedding day.", "*Kat.* I le fee thee hang'd on Sunday firſt. (firſt)", "Gre. Hark Petruchio, the ſayes ſhe'll fee thee hang'd", "*Tra.* Is this your ſpeeding? may then good night our part,", "*Pet.* Be patient gentlemen, I choose her for my ſelf,", "If he and I be pleas'd, what's that to you?", "'Tis bargain'd 'twixt us twain being alone,", "That the ſhall fill be curſt in company.", "I tell you 'tis incredible to believe", "How much ſhe loves me: oh the kindſt Kate,", "She hung about my neck, and kiffe on kiffe", "She vi'd to ſaſt, proteſting oath on oath,", "That in a twink the won meto her love.", "Oh you are novices, 'tis a world to fee", "How tame when men and women are alone,", "A meacock wretched can make the curſteſt ſhrew:", "Give me thy hand Kate, I will unto Venice", "To buy apparell 'gainſt the wedding day;", "Provide the feast father, and bid the gueſts,", "I will be fure my Katherine ſhall be fine.", "Bap. I know not what to ſay, but give me your hands,\nGod ſend you joy, Petruchio, 'tis a match.", "Gre. Tra. Amen ſay we, we will be wittieſſes.", "*Pet.* Father, and Wife, and Gentlemen adieu,", "I will to Venice, Sunday comes apace,", "We will have rings, and things, and fine aray,", "And kiffe me Kate, we will be married a Sunday.", "*Exit Petruchio, and Katherine.*", "Gre. Was ever match clapt up so suddenly?", "Bap. Faith Gentlemen now I play a merchants part,", "And venture madly on a deſperate Mart.", "*Tra.* 'Twas a commodity lay fretting by you,", "Twill bring you gain, or perſith on the leas.", "Bap. The gain I ſeek, is quiet me the match.", "Gre. No doubt but he hath got a quiet catch :", "But now Baptista, to your younger daughter,", "Now is the day we long have looked for,", "I am your neighbour, and was ſuiter firſt.", "*Tra.* And I am one that love Bianca'more", "Then words can witteneſſ, or your thoughts can gueſſe,", "Gre. Youngling, thou canſt not love so dear as I;", "*Tra.* Gray-beard thy love doth freeze.", "Gre. But thine doth fry,", "Skipper Iand back, 'tis age that nouriſheth,", "*Tra.* But youth in Ladies eyes that flouriſheth.", "Bap. Content you gentlemen, I will compound this", "'Tis deeds muſt win the prize, and he of both", "That can affure my daughter greateſt dower,", "Shall have Bianca's love.", "Say Signior Gremio, what can you affure her?", "Gre. Firſt, as you know, my houſe within the City", "Is richly ſumſured with plate and gold,", "Bafons and Ewers to lave her dainty hands :", "My Hangings all of Virgini Tapeſtry :", "In Ivory Coffers I have ſtufft my Crowns :", "In Cypreſſe Cheſts my Arras Counterpoints;", "Coſtly apparell, Tents, and Canopies,", "Fine Linnen. Turky Cuffions beſt with Pearl,", "Vallens of Venice Gold, in needle-work :", "Pewter and Braſſe, and all things that belongs", "To houſe or houſe-keeping : then at my Farme", "I have a hundred milch-kine to the Paile,", "Six ſcore fat Oxen ſtanding in my Stalls;", "And all things anſerable to this portion.", "My ſelf am ſtruck in yearſ I muſt conſeſſe,", "And if I die to morrow this is his :", "If whilſt I live ſhe will be onely mine.", "*Tra.* That onely came well in : fir, lift to me,", "I am my Fathers Heir and only Son,", "If I may have your daughter to my Wife,", "I'll eave her Houſes three or four as good", "Within rich Pisa' Walls, as any one", "Old Signior Gremio has in Padua,", "Befides, two thouſand Duckets by the year", "Of fruitfull Land, all which ſhall be her Joynter.", "What, have I pincht you Signior Gremio?", "Gre. Two thouſand Duckets by the year of Land,", "My Land amounts not to ſo much in all :", "That the ſhall have, beſides an Argofie", "That now is lying in Marſellis road :", "What, have I choak't you with an Argofie?", "*Tra.* Gremio, 'Tis known my Father hath no Jeſſe", "Then three great Argofies, beſides two Galliaſſes", "And twelve tite Gallies, theſe I will affure her,", "And twice as much what e're thou offer'ſt next.", "Gre. Nay, I have offer'd all, I have no more,", "And the can have no more, then all I have,", "If you like me, the ſhall have me and mine.", "*Tra.* Why then the Maid is mine from all the world", "By your firm promife, Gremio is out-vic'd.",

The Taming of a Shrew.

218

She is your own, else you must pardon me:
If you should die before him, where's her dower ?

Tra. That's but a cavill : he is old, I young.

Gre. And may not young men die as well as old ?

Bap. Well gentlemen, I am thus refolv'd,

On funday next, you know

My daughter Katherine is to be married :

Now on the Sunday following, shall Bianca

Be Bride to you, if you make this afflurance :

If not, to Signior Gremio :

And so I take my leave, and thank you both. Exit.

Gre. Adieu good neighbour: now I fear thee not.

Sirra, young Gamefter, your Father were a fool

To give thee all, and in his waining age

Set foot under thy table : tut, a toy,

An old Italian fox is not so kind my boy. Exit.

Tra. A vengeance on your crafty withered hide,
Yet I have faët it with a card of ten :

'Tis in my head to doe my matter good :

If ee no reason but fuppos'd Lucentio

Must get a father, call'd fuppos'd Vincentio,

And that's a wonder : fathers commonly

Doe get their children : but in this cafe of wooing,

A child shall get a fire, if I fail not of my cunning. Exit.

## Actus Tertius.

Enter Lucentio, Hortensio, and Bianca.

Luc. Fidler forbear, you grow too forward fir,
Have you so soon forgot the entertainment

Her fitter Katherine welcom'd you withall ?

Hort. But wrangling pedant, this is

The patronefle of heavenly harmony :

That give me leave to have prerogative,

And when in Mufick we have spent an hour,

Your Lecture shall have leifure for as mucka.

Luc. Prepofterous Affle that never read so far,

To know the caufe why mufick was ordain'd :

Was it not to refrefh the mind of man

After his ſtudies, or his uſuall pain?

Then give me leave to read Philofophy,

And while I paufe, ſerve in your harmony.

Hort. Sirra, I will not bear theſe braves of thine.

Bian. Why gentlemen, you doe me double wrong,

To ſtrive for that which reſteth in my choyce :

I am no breeching ſchollar in the schooles,

I'le not be tied to hour, nor pointed times,

But learn my Lefſions as I pleafe my ſelfe,

And to cut off all ſtrife : here fit we down,

Take you your inſtrument, play you the whileſes,

His Lecture will be done e'the you have tun'd.

Hort. You'll leave his Lecture when I am in tune?

Luc. That will be never, tune your inſtrument.

Bian. Where left we laſt ?

Luc. Here Madam : Hic ibat Simois, hie eſt Sigeia tel-
lus, hie ſleterat Priami regia celsa ſenis.

Bian. Conſter them.

Luc. Hic Ibat, as I told you before, Simois, I am Lu-
centio, hie eſt, ſon unto Vincentio of Pifa, Sigeia tel-
lus, diſguifed thus to get your love, hie ſleterat, and that
Lucentio that comes a wooing, Priami, is my man Tranio,
regia, bearing my port, celsa ſenis, that we might beguile
the old Pantaloune.

Hort. Madam, my inſtruments 'in tune.

Bian. Let's hear, oh ſie, the treble jarres.

Luc. Spit in the hole man, and tune againe.

Bian. Now let me fee if I can conſter it. Hie that ſa-
mois, I know you not, hie eſt Sigeia tellus, I truſt you not
hie ſleterat priami, take heed he hear us not, regia, pre-
ſume not, celsa ſenis, delpair not.

Hort. Madam, 'tis now in tune.

Luc. All but the bafe.

Hort. The bafe is right, 'tis the bafe knave that jars.

Luc. How ſiery and ſroward our Pedant is,

Now for my life that knave doth court my love,

Pedaficule, I'le watch you better yet :

In time I may believe, yet I miſtruſt.

Bian. Miftruſt it not, for ſure Œacides

Was Ajax, call'd fo from his Grandfather.

Hort. I muſt believe my Maſter, eſſe I promife you,
I should be arguing ſtill upon that doubt,

But let it reſt, now Litio to you :

Good Maſter take it not unkindly pray

That I have been thus pleafant with you both,

Bian. You may go walk, and give me leave a while,
My Lefſions make not mufick in three parts.

Luc. Are you ſo ſormall fir, well I muſt wait
And watch withall, for but I be deceiv'd,

Our fine Mufician groweth amorous.

Hor. Madam, before you touch the inſtrument,

To learn the order of my fingering,

I muſt begin with rudinents of Art,

To teach you gamoth in a briefer ſon,

More pleafant, pithy, and effectual,

Then hath been taught by any of my trade,

And there it is in writing fairly drawn.

Bian. Why, I am paf't my gamoth long ago.

Hor. Yet read the gamoth of Hortenſo.

Bion. Gamoth I am, the ground of all accord :

Are, to plead Hortenſio's paflion :

Beeme, Bianca take him for thy Lord

Cfauf, that loves me with all affection :

D ſol re, one Cliffe, two notes have I,

Elams, how pitty or I die.

Call you this gamoth ? tur I like it not,

Old fashions pleafe me beſt, I am not ſo nice

To change true rules for old inventions.

Enter a Miffenger.

Nick. Miftreſſe, your Father prays you leave your
And help to drefſe your lifters Chamber up, (books,
You know to morrow is the wedding day.

Bian. Farewell ſweet Maſters both, I muſt be gone,

Luc. Faith Miftreſſe then I have no cauſe to stay.

Hor. But I have cauſe to pry into this pedant,

Me thinks he looks as though he were in love :

Yet if thoughts, Bianca, be ſo humble

To caſt thy wandring eyes on every ſale :

Scize thee that Lift, if once I find thee ranging,

Hortenſo will be quit with thee by changing. Exit.

Enter Baptista, Gremio, Tranio, Katherine, Bianca,
and others, attendants.

Bap. Signior Lucentio, this the pointed day
That Katherine and Petruchio ſhould be married,
And yet we hear not of our Son in Law :

What will be ſaid, what mockery will it be ?

To want the Bride-groom when the Priſt attends

To ſpeak the ceremonial rites of marriage ?

What ſayes Lucentio to this ſhame of ours ?

No

The Taming of the Shrew.

219

Kate. No flame but mine, I must tooth sooth be for't.
To give my hand oppos'd againft my heart
Unto a mad-brain rude sy, full ofpleen,
Who woo'd in haftes, and meanes to wed at leifure:
I told you I, he was a frantick fool,
Hiding his litter jefts in blunt behaviour,
And to be noted for a merry man;
He'll wooe a thoufand, point the day of marriage,
Make friends, invite, yes and proclaim the banes,
Yet never meanes to wed where he hath woo'd :
Now muft the world point at poor Katherine,
And fay, loe, there is mad Petruchio's wife,
If it would pleafe him come and marry her.
Tra. Patience good Katherine and Bapifha too,
Upon my life Petruchio meanes but well,
What ever fortune ftayes him from his word,
Though he be blunt, I know him pafling wife,
Though he be merry, yet withall he's honest.

Kate. Would Katherine had never seen him though.

Exit. weeping.

Bap. Co girl, I cannot blame thee now to weep,
For fuch an injury would vex a faint,
Much more a flrew of thy impaient humour.

Enter Biondello.

Bion. Mafter, mafter, newes, and fuch newes as you never heard of.

Bap. Is it new and old too ? how may that be ?

Bio. Why, is it not newes to hear of Petruchio's com-

Bap. Is he come ?

(coming ?)

Bio. Why no fir.

Bap. What then ?

Bio. He is comming.

Bap. When will he be here ?

Bio. When he stands where I am, and fees you there.

Tra. But fay, what to thy old newes ?

Bio. Why Petruchio is comming, in a new hat and an old jerkin, a pair of old breeches thrice turn'd; a pair of boots that have been candle-caſes, one buckled, an- other lac'd: an old rufy sword tane out of the Town Armory, with a broken hilt, and chaplaffe: with two broken points: his horſe hip'd with an old mothy tad- dle, the flurrops of no kindred: beſide poſſt with the glanders, and like to moſe in the chine, troubled with the Lampaffe, infected with the ſafions, full of Windegalls, tped with Spavins, raied with the Yellowes, paſſ cure of the Fives, ſtark ſpoſy'd with the Staggers, begnawn with the Botts, Waſd in the back, and shoulder-flotten, neer leg'd before, and with a halſe checkt Bit, and a headſtall of ſheeps leather, which being reſtrain'd to keep him from ſtumbling, hāth been often būſt, and now repaired with knots: ene girth fix times piec'd, and a womans Crupper of veſure, which hath two letters for her name, fairly ſet down in fluds, and here and there piec'd with packthred.

Bap. Who comes with him ?

Bio. Oh fir, his Lacky, for all the world Caparifon'd
like the horſe: with a linnen ſtock on one leg, and a
kerſey boot-hoſe on the other, gartred with a red and
blew lift; an old hat, and the humour of forty fancies
prickt up in't for a feather: a monſter, a very monſter in
apparell, and not like a Chriſtian foot-boy, or gentlemans
Lackey.

Tra. 'Tis fome odde humor pricks him to this fashion,
Yet oftentimes he goes but mean apparel'd.

Bap. I am glad he's come, howfoever he comes.

Bion. Why fir, he comes not.

Bap. Did it thou not tay he comes ?

Bion. Who, that that Petruchio came ?

Bap. I, that Petruchio came.

Bion. No fir, I fay his horſe comes with him on his back.

Bap. Why that's all one.

Bion. Nay by S. Famy, I hold you a penny, a horſe and a man is more then one, and yet not many.

Enter Petruchio, and Grumio.

Pet. Come, where be theſe galiants, who's at home ?

Bap. You are welcome fir.

Pet. And yet I come not well,

Bap. And yet you halt not.

Tra. Not to well aparell'd as I wifh you were.

Pet. Were it better: I should ruſh in thus :

But where is Kate ? where is my lovely Bide ?

How does my father ? gentles methinks you frown,

And wherefore goze this goodly company,

As if they faw ſome wondrous monument,

Some Con t, or ſome untuall prodig?

Bap. Why fir, you know this is your wedding day :

Fif't were we ſad, foaring you would not come,

Now fadder that you come unp-ovided :

Fie, doff this haſt, ſhame to your eſtate,

An ey-fore to or tolemme feſtivall.

Tra. And tell us what occafion of import

Hath all to long detain'd you from your wife,

And fent you hithre: to unlike your ſelf?

Pet. Teacious it were to tell, and ha ſh to hear,

S. ſofficeth I am come to keep my wo d,

Though in tome part enforſed to diſe ſeffe,

Which at more leasure I will ſo exu e,

As you ſhall well be tafisſed withall.

But where is Kate? I ſay too long from her.

The morning wears, 'tis time we were at Church.

Tra. See not your Bide in theſe unreverent robes,

Go to my chamber, put on clothes of mine.

Pet. Not I, believe me, thus I ple視 it her.

Bap. But thus I truſt you will not marry her.

Pet. Good footh even thus: therefore ha done with words.

To me ſhe's married, not unto my clothes :

Could I repair what ſhe will wear in me,

As I could change theſe poor accoutrements,

'Twere well for Kate, and better for my ſelf.

But what a fool am I to chat with you,

When I should bid good morow to my Bride?

And teal the title with a lovely kuff.

Exit.

Tra. He hath ſome meaning in his mad attire,

We will perſwade him be it poſſible,

To put on better eye he go to Church.

Bap. Ile after him, and fee the event of this.

Exit.

Tra. But fir, Love concerneth us to adde

Her father's likings, which to bring to paſſe

As before I imparted to your worſhip,

I am to geta man what e he be,

Iſ skills not much, we'll fit him to our turn,

And he ſhall be Vincentio of Pſa,

And make affurance here in Padua

Of greater ſummes then I have promiſed,

So ſhall you quietly enjoy your hope,

And marry ſweet Bianca with conſent.

Luc. Were it not that my fellow ſchoolemaſter

Doth watch Biancaes ſteps ſo narrowly :

'Twere good me thinks to feal our marriage,

Which once perform'd, let all the world ſay no,

I'le keep mine own deſpight of all the world.

Tra. That by degrees we mean to look into,

T 2

And

The Taming of a Shrew.

221

greater a run, but my head and my neck. A fire good Cur-
sie.

*Cur.* Is my Mafter and his wife comming Grumid ?

*Gru.* Oh I, Curtis, I; and therefore fire, fire, caft on
no water.

*Cur.* Is he so hot a firew as the's reported.

*Gru.* She was good Curtis before this freft : but thou
know'ft winter tames man, woman, and beaft : for it hath
tan'd my old mafter, and my new miftreffe, and my self,
fellow Curtis.

*Cur.* Away you three-inch fool, I am no beaft.

*Gru.* Am I but three inches ? Why thy horn is a foot,
and so long an I at the leaft. But wilt thou make a fire,
or fhall I complain on thee to our Miftreffe, whoſe hand
(the being now at hand) thou fhalt foon feel, to thy cold
comfort, for being flow in thy hot office.

*Cur.* I prethee good Grumio, tell me, how goes the
world? and

*Gru.* A cold world Curtis in every office but thine, and
therefore fire : doe thy duty, and have thy duty, for my
mafter and miftreſſe are almoſt frozen to death.

*Cur.* There's fire ready, and therefore good Grumio
the newes.

*Gru.* Why Jack boy, ho boy, and as much newes as
thou wilt.

*Gru.* Come, you are ſo full of conicatching.

*Gru.* Why therefore fire, for I have caught extreme
cold. Where's the Cook, is ſupper ready, the houſe
trimm'd, rufhes ſtrew'd, cobwecs iwept, the ſerving-men
in their new ſuffian, their white ſtockings, and every offi-
cer his wedding garment on ? Be the Jacks fair within,
the Jills fair without, Carpets laid, and every thing in
order ?

*Cur.* All ready : and therefore I pray thee what newes?

*Gru.* Firſt know thy horſe is ſired, my maſter and
miftreſſe faln out.

*Cur.* How ?

*Gru.* Out of their faddles into the dirt, and thereby
hangs a tale.

*Cur.* Let's ha't good Grumio.

*Gru.* Lend thine ear.

*Cur.* Here.

*Gru.* There.

*Gru.* This 'tis to ſeele a tale, not to hear a tale.

*Gru.* And therefore 'tis cal'd a ſenſible tale : and this
Cuffe was but to knock at your ear, and beſeeth lift-
ning now I begin, Inprimis we came down a foule hill,
my Maſter riding behinde my Miftreſſe.

*Cur.* Both of one horſe ?

*Gru.* What's that to thee ?

*Cur.* Why a horſe.

*Gru.* Tell thou the tale : but hadft thou not croft me,
thou shouldſt have heard how he'r horſe fell, and ſhe un-
der her horſe : thou shouldſt have heard in how miery a
place, how ſhe was bemoil'd, how he left her with the
horſe upon her, how he beat me becaufe her horſe ſtum-
bled, how ſhe waded through the dirt to pluck him off
me : how he ſwore, how he pray'd, that never pray'd be-
fore : how I cri'd, how the horſes ran away, how her
bridle was burſt : how I loft my crupper, with many
things of worthy memory, which now ſhall die in obli-
vion, and thou reurn unexperienc'd to thy grave.

*Cur.* By this reckoning he is more ſhrew than ſhe.

*Gru.* I, and that thou and the proudeſt of you all ſhall
find when he comes home. But what talk I of this? Call
forth Nathaniel, Joseph, Nicholas, Philip, Walter, Su-

*gerſop and the reſt : let their heads be flickily comb'd, their
blew coats brilſh'd, and their garters of an indifferent
knit, let them curſe with their left legs, and not preſume
to touch a hair of my maſters horſe tail, till they kiffe
their hands. Are they all ready ?

*Cur.* They are.

*Gru.* Call them forth.

*Cur.* Doe you hear ho ? you muſt meet my maſter to
countenance my miftreſſe.

*Gru.* Why ſhe hath a face of her own.

*Cur.* Who knowes not that ?

*Gru.* Thou it ſeems that calls for company to counte-
nance her

*Cur.* I call them forth to credit her.

*Enter four or five ſervingmen*

*Gru.* Why ſhe comes to borrow nothing of them.

*Nat.* Welcome home Grumio.

*Phil.* How now Grumio.

*Jof.* What Grumio.

*Nick.* Fellow Grumio.

*Nath.* How now old had.

*Gru.* Welcome you : how now you : what you : ſel-
low you : and thus much for greeting. Now my ſpruce
companions, is all ready, and all things neat ?

*Nat.* All things are ready, how near is our maſter ?

*Gru.* E'ne at hand, alighted by this : and therefore be
not------Cocks paffion, ſilence, I hear my Maſter.

*Enter Petruchio and Kate.*

*Pet.* Where be theſe knaves ? What no man at door
to hold my flirrop, nor to take my horſe ? Where is Na-
thaniel, Gregory, Philip.

*All Ser.* Here, here fir, here fir.

*Pet.* Here fir, here fir, here fir, here fir.

You loggerheaded and unpolliff't homs :

What ? no attendance ? no regard ? no duty ?

Where is the fooliſh knave I ſent before ?

*Gru.* Here fir, as fooliſh as I was before.

*Pet.* You peſant, ſwain, you horſon malt-horſe drudge,
Did I not bid thee meet me in the Parke;

And bring along the rafcaſl knaves with thee ?

*Gru.* Nathaniel's coat fir was not fully made,

And Gabriel's pumps were all unpink't i'th' hech :

There was no Link to colour Peter's hat,

And Walter's dagger was not come from theathing :

There were none fine, but Adam, Rafe, and Gregory,
The reſt were ragged, old, and beggerly,
Yet as they are, they come to meet you.

*Pet.* Go rafcalls, go and fetch my ſupper in. Ex Ser.

Where is the life that late I led ?

Where are thofe ? Sit down Kate.

And welcome. Soud, ſoud, ſoud, ſoud.

*Enter ſervants with ſupper.*

Why when I ſay ? Nay good ſweet Kate be merry.

Off with my boots, you rogues : you villains, when ?

*It was the Friar of Orders gray,*

*As heforth walked on his way.*

Our you rogue, you pluck your foot awry,

Take that, and mend the plucking of the other.

*Be merry Kate : Some water here : what hoa.*

*Enter one with water.*

Where's my Spaniel Treilus ? Sirra, get you hence,

And bid my Couſin Ferdinand come hither :

One Kate that you muſt kiffe, and be acquainted with.

Where are my flippers ? (hall I have ſome water ?

Come Kate and waſh, and welcome heartily :

You horſon villain will you let it fall ?

T 3

Kate

["The Taming of the Shrew.", "123", "I know not what, but formall in apparell,\nIn gate and countenance furly like a father.", "Lue. And what of him Tranio ?", "Tra. If he be credulous, and trust my tale,\nI'le make him glad to seem Vincentio,\nAnd give affurance to Baptista Minola\nAs if he were the right Vincentio.", "Take me your love, and then let me alone.", "Enter a Pedant.", "Ped. God fave you fir.", "Tra. And you fir, you are welcome.", "Travell you far on, or are you at the fartheft ?", "Ped. Sir, at the fartheft for a week or two,\nBut then up farther, and as far as Rome,\nAnd fo to Tripoly, if God lend me life.", "Tra. What Countreyman I pray ?", "Ped. Of Mantua.", "Tra. Of Mantua Sir, marry God forbid,\nAnd come to Padua, careleffe of your life ?", "Ped. My life fir ? how I pray ? for chat goes hard.", "Tra. 'Tis death for any one in Mantua.", "To come to Padua, know you not the caufe ?", "Your ships are staid at Venice, and the Duke", "For private quarrell 'twixt your Duke and him,\nHath publifh'd and proclaim'd it openly :", "'Tis marvell, but that you are but newly come,", "You might have heard it elle proclaim'd about.", "Ped. Alas fir, it is worfe for me then fo,", "For I have bills for money by exchange\nFrom Florence, and muft here deliver them.", "Tra. Well fir, to do you curſeſe,", "This will I do, and this I will adviſe you.", "First tell me, have you ever been at Pisa ?", "Ped. I fir, In Pisa have I often been,", "Pisa renowned for grave Citizens.", "Tra. Among them know you one Vincentio ?", "Ped. I know him not, but I have heard of him:", "A Merchant of incomparable wealth.", "Tra. He is my father fir and tooth to fay,", "In count'nance fomewhat doth reſemble you.", "Bion. As much as an apple doth an oyſter, and all one.", "Tra. To fave your life in this extremity,", "This favour will I do you for his faſe,", "And think it not the worſt of all your fortunes\nThat you are like to Sir Vincentio.", "His name and credit his ſhall you undertake,", "And in my houſe you ſhall be friendly lodg'd,\nLook that you take upon you as you ſhould,\nYou understand me fir: fo ſhall you ſtay", "Till you have done your buſineſſe in the City :\nIf this be court'ſie fir, accept of it.", "Ped. Oh fir I do, and will repute you ever\nThe patron of my life and liberty.", "Tra. Then go with me to make the matter good,", "This by the way I let you understand,\nMy father is here look'd for every day,", "To paffe affurance of a dowre in marriage", "'Twixt me, and one Baptista's daughter here :", "In all theſe circumſtances I'le inſtruct you,", "Go with me fir to cloath you as becomes you.", "Exeunt.", "Altus Quartus. Scena Prima.", "Enter Katherina and Grumio.", "Gru. No, no forſooth I dare not for my life.", "Kat. The more my wrong, the more his ſpite appears.", "What, did he marry me to famiſt me ?", "Beggers that come unto my fathers door,", "Upon entreaty have a pefent almes,", "If not, elfewhere they meet with charity :", "But I, who never knew how to intreat,", "Nor never needed that I ſhould intreat,", "Am ſtarv'd for meat, giddy for lack of ſleep:", "With oaths kept waking, and with brawling ſed,", "And that which ſpights me more then all theſe wants,", "He does it under name of perfect love:", "As who would ſay, if I ſhould ſleep or eat", "'Twere deadly ſickneſſe, or elle pefent death.", "I prethee go, and get me ſome repaſt,", "I care not what, ſo it be wholſome food.", "Gru. What ſay you to a Neats foot ?", "Kat. 'Tis paſſing good, I prethee let me have it.", "Gru. I fear it is too phlegmatick a meat.", "How ſay you to a fat Tripe finely broil'd ?", "Kat. I like it well, good Grumio fetch it me,", "Gru. I cannot tell, I fear 'tis chollerick.", "What ſay you to a piece of Beef and Muſtard ?", "Kat. A diſh that I do love to feed upon.", "Gru. I, but the Muſtard is too hot a little.", "Kat. Why then the Beef, and let the Muſtard reſſ.", "Gru. Nay then I will not, you ſhall have the Muſtard,", "Or elle you get no Beef of Grumio.", "Kat. Then both or one, or any thing thou wilt.", "Gru. Why then the Muſtard without the Beef,", "Kat. Go get the gone, thou falſe deluding flaves.", "Beats him.", "That feed'ſt me with the very name of meat,", "Sorrow on thee, and all the pack of you", "That triumph thus upon my mifery :", "Go get thee gone, I ſay.", "Enter Petruchio, and Hortentio with meat.", "Pet. How fares my Kate, what ſweeting, all amort ?", "Hor. Miftris, what cheer ?", "Kat. Faith as cold as can be,", "Pet. Pluck up thy ſpirits, look cheerfully upon me.", "Here Love, thou feeſt how diligent I am,", "To drefſe thy meat my ſelf, and bring it thee,", "I am ſure, ſweet Kate, this kindneſſe merits thanks,", "What, not a word ? Nay then, thou lev'ſt it not :", "And all my pains is forſted to no proof.", "Here take away the diſh.", "Kat. I pray you let it ſland.", "Pet. The pooreſt ſervice is repaid with thanks,", "And ſo ſhall mine before you touch the meat.", "Kate. I thank you fir.", "Hor. Signior Petruchio, ſie you are too blame :", "Come Miftris Kate, I'le bear you company.", "Pet. Eat it up all Hortentio, if thou loveſt me:", "Much good do it unto thy gentle heart ;", "Kate eat apace ; and now my hony Love,", "Will we return unto thy fathers houſe,", "And revell it as bravely as the beſt,", "With ſilken coats and caps, and golden Rings,", "With Ruffs and Cuffſs, and Fardingales, and things:", "With Scarffſs, and Farriſs, and double change of brav'ry,", "With Amber Bracelets, Beads, and all this knav'ry.", "With haſt thou din'd ? The Tailor ſtaies thy ſleafure,", "To deck thy body with his ruffling treaſure,", "Enter Tailor.", "Come", "caching.", "hat you me", "love and", "of your an", "miſtresse.", "tell me", "Bianca lo", "n't tell", "n't Bianca", "n't tell", "n't Bianca", "n't tell", "n't Bianca",

The Taming of the Shrew.

224

Come Tailor, let us see these ornaments.

Enter Haberdasher.

Lay forth the gown. What news with you fir ?

Fel. Here is the cap your worship did bespeak.

Pet. Why this was moulded on a porrenger,

A Velvet diſh : Fie, ſie'tis lewd and filthy,

Why 'tis a cockle or a walnut-chell,

A knack, a toy, a trick, a babies cap :

Away with it, come let me have a bigger.

Kat. I'le have no bigger, this doth fit the time,

And Gentlemen were ſuch caps as theſe.

Pet. When you are gentle, you ſhall have one too,
And not till then.

Hor. That will not be in haſte.

Kat. Why fir, I trust I may have leave to ſpeak,
And ſpeak I will. I am no childe, no babe,
Your betters have endur'd me, ſay my minde,
And if you cannot, beſt you ſtop your ears.

My tongue will tell the anger of my heart,
Or eſſe my heart conceiling it will break,
And rather then it ſhall, I will be free,
Even to the etermoſt as I pleafe in words.

Pet. Why thou faſſt true, it is a paltry cap,

A cuſtard coſſen, a bauble, a filken pye,
I love thee well in that thou lik'ſt it not.

Kat. Love me, or love me not, I like the cap,
And it I will have, or I will have none.

Pet. Thy gown, why I : come Tailor let us see',
O mercy God, what masking ſtuffe is here ?
What ? this a ſleeve ? 'tis like a demi-cannon,
What, up and down carv'd like an apple-Tait ?
Here ſnip, and nip, and cut, and flſh and ſlath,
Like to a Cenſor in a barbers ſhop :

Why what a devils name Tailor call't thou this?

Hor. I fee he's like to have neither cap nor gown.

Tai. You bid me make it orderly and well,

According to the ſashion, and the time.

Pet. Marry and did : but if you be remembred,
I did not bid you mar it to the time.

Go hop me over every kennell home,
For you ſhall hop without my cuſtome fir :

I'le none of it : hence, make your beſt of it.

Kat. I never saw a better ſashion'd gown,

More quaint, more pleafing, nor more commendable :

Belike you mean to make a puppet of me.

Pet. Why true, he means to make a puppet of thee.

Tai. She fayes your Worſhip means to make a puppet of her.

Pet. Oh moſt monſtrous arrogance :

Thou lyeſt, thou thred, thou thimble,
Thou yard, three quarters, half yard, quarter, nail,
Thou Flea, thou Nit, thou winter cricket thou :

Brav'd in mine own houſe with a skein of thred :

Away thou Rag, thou quantity, thou remnant,

Or I ſhall ſo be-meet thee with thy yard,

As thou ſhalt think on prating whil'ſt thou liv'ſt :

I tell thee I, that thou haſt mar'd her gown.

Tail. Your worſhip is deceiv'd, the gown is made

Juſt as my Maſter had direction :

Grumio gave order how it ſhould be done.

Gru. I gave him no order, I gave him the ſtuff.

Gru. But how did you defire it ſhould be made ?

Gru. Marry fir with needle and thred.

Tail. But did you not requeſt to have it Cut ?

Gru. Thou haſt fac'd many things.

Tail. I have.

Gru. Face not me : thou haſt brav'd many men, brave
not me ; I will neither be fac'd nor brav'd. I ſay unto thee,
I bid thy maſter cut out the gown, but I did not bid
him cut it to pieces. Ergo thou lieſt.

Tai. Why here is the note of the ſashion to teſtife,

Pet. Read it.

Gru. The note lyes in's throat if he ſay I ſaid so.

Tail. Imprimis, a loofe bodied gown.

Gru. Maſter, if ever I ſaid loofe-bodied gown, ſow
me in the skirts of it, and beat me to death with a bot-
tome of brown thred : I ſaid I ſaid a gown.

Pet. Proceed,

Tai. With a ſmall compaſſ Cape.

Gru. I confeſſe the Cape.

Tai. With a trunk ſleeve.

Gru. I confeſſe two ſleeves.

Tai. The ſleeves curiouſly cut,

Pet. I there's the villany.

Gru. Error i'th bill fir, error i'th bill ? I commanded
the ſleeves ſhould be cut out, and ſow'd up again, and
that I'le prove upon thee, though thy little finger be ar-
med in a thimble.

Tail. This is true that I ſay, and I had thee in place
where, thou ſhouldt know it.

Gru. I am for thee ſtraight : take thou the bill, give
me thy meet-yard, and ſpare not me.

Hor. God-a-mercy Grumio, then he ſhall have no
odd's.

Pet. Well fir in briefe the gown is not for me.

Gru. You are i'th right fir, 'tis for my miſtris,

Pet. Go take it up unto thy maſters uſe.

Gru. Villain, not for thy life : Take up my Miſtrſe
gown for thy maſters uſe.

Pet. Why fir, what's your conceit in that ?

Gru. Oh fir, the conceit is deeper then you think for:
Take up my Miſtris gown unto his maſters uſe.

Oh ſie, ſie, ſie.

Pet. Hortentio, ſay thou wilt fee the Tailor paid :

Go take it hence, begone, and ſay no more.

Hor. Tailor, I'le pay thee for thy gown to morrow,
Take no unkindneſſe of his haſty words :

Away I ſay, commend me to thy Maſter.

Exit. Tail.

Pet. Well, come my Kate, we will unto your fathers,
Even in these honeſt mean habiliments :

Our purſes ſhall be proud, our garments poor :

For 'tis the minde that makes the body rich,

And as the Sun breaks through the darkeſt clouds,
So honor peereth in the meaneſt habit.

What is the Jay more precious then the Lark,
Because his feathers are more beautiſul?

Or is the Adder better then the Eele,

Because his painted skin contents the eye ?

Oh no, good Kate : neither art thou the worſe
For this poor furniture, and mean array.

If thou accounted'ſt it ſhame, lay it on me,

And therefore frolick, we will hence forthwith:
To feaſt and ſport us at thy fathers houſe,

Go call my men, and let us ſtraight to him,
And bring our horſes unto Long-lane end,
There will we mount, and thither walk on foot.
Let's fee, I think 'tis now ſome feaven a clock,

And well we may come there by dinner time.
Kat. I dare aſſure you fir, 'tis almoſt two,

And 'twill be ſupper time ere you come there.

Pet. It ſhall be ſeven ere I go to horſe :
Look what I ſpeak, or do, or think to do,

You

The Taming of a Shrew.

225

You are still croffing it; firs let't alone,
I will not go to day, and ere I doe,
It shall be what a clock I fay it is.

*Hor. Why for this gallant will command the fun.*

*Enter Tranio, and the Pedant dreft like Vincentio.*

*Tra.* Sirs, this is the house, please it you that I call
*Ped.* I what elfe, and but I be deceived,
Signior Baptista may remember me
Near twenty years ago in Genoa.

*Tra.* Where we were Lodgers, at the Pegasus :
*Tis well, and hold your own in any cafe
With such auferthie as longeth to a Father.*

*Enter Biondello.*

*Red.* I warrant you : but fir here comes your boy,
*Twere good he were schoold.*

*Tra.* Fear you not him : firra Biondello,
Now doe your duty throughly I advife you :
Imagine *twere the right Vincentio.*

*Bion.* Tut, fear not me.

*Tra.* But haft thou done thy errand to Baptista ?

*Bion.* I told him that your father was in Venice,
And that you look't for him in Padua.

*Tra.* That's a tall fellow, hold thee that to drink,
Here comes Baptista : fet your countenance fir.

*Enter Baptista and Lucentio : and Pedant booted
and bear-headed.*

*Tra.* Signior Baptista you are happily met :
Sir, this is the gentleman I told you of,
I pray you fand good father to me now,
Giveme Bianca for my patrimony.

*Ped. Soft: fir by your leave, having come to Padua
To gather in fome debts, my fon Lucentio
Made me acquainted with a weighty caufe
Of love between your daughter and himself :*

And for the good report I hear of you,
And for the love he beareth to your daughter,
And ſhe to him; to ſtay him not too long,
I am content in a good fathers care

To have him matcht, and if you pleate to like
No worſe then I fir upon ſome agreement,

Me ſhall you finde moſt ready and moſt willing
With one confent to have her ſo beſtowed :

For curious I cannot be with you

Signior Baptista, of whom I hear ſo well.

*Bap.* Sir, pardon me in what I have to ſay,
Your plainneſſe and your ſhortneſſe pleafe me well :
Right true it is, your fon Lucentio here
Doth love my daughter, and ſhe loveth him,

Or both diſſemble deeply their affections :

And therefore if you ſay no more then this,

That like a Father you will deal with him,

And paffe my daughter a ſufficient dowre,

The match is made, and all is done,

Your ſon ſhall have my daughter with confent.

*Tra.* Then at my lodging, and it like you fir
There doth my father lie : and there this night

We'll paffe the buſineſſe privately and well :
Send for your daughter by your ſervant here,
My Boy ſhall fetch the Scrivener prefently,

The worſt is this, that at ſo flender warning,
You are like to have a thin and flender pittance.

*Bap. It likes we well :*

*Cambio.* hie you home, and bid Bianca make her ready
ftraight:

And if you will tell what hath hapned,

*Lucentio's* Father is arriv'd in Padua,

And how ſhe's like to be Lucentio's wife.

*Bion.* I pray the gods ſhe may with all my heart.

*Tra.* Dally not with the gods, but get thee gone.

*Enter Peter.*

Signior Baptista, ſhall I lead the way,

We come, one meſſe like to be your cheer,

Come fir, we will better it in Pisa.

*Bap.* I follow you.

*Exit.*

*Exennt.*

*Enter Lucentio, and Biondello.*

*Bion.* Cambio.

*Luc.* What faſſt thou Biondello ?

*Biond.* You ſaw my Maſter wink and laugh upon you.

*Luc.* Biondello, what of that ?

*Biond.* Faith nothing: but has left me here behind
to expound the meaning, or morall of his ſigns and to-
kens.

*Luc.* I play the moralize them.

*Biond.* Then thus: Baptista is ſafe talking with the de-
ceiving Father of a deceitfull Son.

*Luc.* And what of him ?

*Bion.* His daughter is to be brought by you to the ſup-
per.

*Luc.* And then ?

*Bion.* The old Prieſt at Saint Luke's Church is at your command at all hours,

*Luc.* And what of all this ?

*Bion.* I cannot tell, except they are buſed about a
counteſſe affurance: take you affurance of her, Cum pri-
vilegio ad Imprimendum ſolum, to th' Church take the
Prieſt, Clarke, and ſome ſufficient honyſt witenſeſes :
If this be not that you look for, I have no more to ſay,
But bid Bianca farewell for ever and a day.

*Luc.* Hear'ft thou Biondello.

*Bion.* I cannot tarry : I knew a wench married in an
afternoon as ſhe went to the Garden for Parſely to
ſuffea Ra bit, and ſo may you fir : and ſo adieu fir, my
Maſter haſt appointed me to go to Saint Luke's to bid
the Prieſt be ready to come againſt you come with your
appendix.

*Luc.* I may and will, if ſhe be ſo contented :
She will be pleas'd, then wherefore should I doubt :

Hap what hap may, Ple roundly go about her :

It ſhall go hard if Cambio go without her.

*Exit.*

*Exit.*

*Enter Petrucho, Kate, Hortenſo.*

*Pet.* Come on a Godſname, once more toward our
Fathers.

Good Lord how bright and goodly ſhines the Moon :

*Kate.* The Moon, the Sun : it is not Moon light
now.

*Pet.* I ſay it is the Moon that ſhines ſobright.

*Kate.* I know it is the Sun that ſhines to bright.

*Pet.* Now by my Mothers Son, and that's my ſelf.

It

The Taming of a Shrew.

226

It shall be moon, or star, or what I lift,
Or ere I journey to your father's house:
Go on, and fetch our horSES back again,
Ever more croft and croft, nothing but croft,
Hor. Say as he fayes, or we shall never go,
Kat. Forward I pray, ſince we have come to ſarre,
And be it moon, or fun, or what you pleafe:
And if you pleafe to call it a rufh Candle,
Hence forth I vow it ſhall be ſo for me.
Pet. I fay it is the Moon.
Kat. I know it is the Moon.
Pet. Nay then you lye: it is the bleſſed Sun.
Kat. Then God be bleſt, it is the bleſſed Sun,
But fun it is not, when you fay it is not.
And the Moon changes even as your minde:
What you will have it nam'd, even that it is,
And ſo it ſhall be ſo for Katherine.

Hor. Petruchio, go thy wayes, the field is won.
Pet. Well, forward, forward, thus the bowle ſhould run,
And not unluckily againſt the Bias:
But ſoft, Company is comming here.

### Enter Vincentio.

Good morrow gentle Miftris, where away :
Tell me ſweet Kate, and tell me truly too,
Haſt thou beheld a ſelſher Gentlewoman :
Such war of white and red within her cheeks :
What ſtars do ſpangle heaven with ſuch beauty,
As those two eyes become that heavenly face?
Fair lovely Maid, once more good day to thee :
Sweet Kate embrace her for her beauties ſake.

Hor. A will make the man mad to make a woman of him.

Kat. Young budding Virgin, fair, and fresh, and ſweet,
Whither away, or where is thy aboad ?
Happy the Parents of ſo fair a childe ;
Happier the man whom favourable ſtars
Alots thee for his lovely bedfellow.

Pet. Why how now Kate, I hope thou art not mad,
This is a man, old, wrinkled, faded, withered,
And not a Maiden, as thou fauſt he is.

Kat. Pardon old father my miftaking eyes,
That have been ſo bedazled with the ſun,
That every thing I look on ſeemeth green :
Now I perceive thou art a reverend Father:
Pardon I pray thee for my mad miftaking.

Pet. Do good old grandfire, and withall make known
Which way thou travelſeſt, if along with us,
We ſhall be joyfull of thy company.

Vin. Fair Sir, and you my merry Miftris,
That with your ſtrange encounter much amas'd me:
My name is call'd Vincentio, my dwelling Pisa,
And bound I am to Padua, there to viſit
A ſon of mine, which long I have not ſeen.

Pet. What is his name ?
Vin. Lucentio, gentle fir.
Pet. Happily met, the happier for thy ſon :

And now by Law, as well as reverent age,
I may intitle thee my loving father;
The fitter to my wife, this Gentlewoman,
Thy Son by this hath married : wonder not,
Nor be not grieved, ſhe is of good ſeemt,
Her dowry wealthy, and of worthy birth :
Befide, ſo qualified, as may beſeem
The ſpouſe of any noble Gentleman :
Let me embrace with old Vincentio,

And wander we to fee thy honef t ſon,
Who will of thy arrival be full joyous.

Vin. But is this true, or is it eſſe your pleafure,
Like prefent travellers to break a jefſt
Upon the company you overtake?

Hor. I do aſſure thee father ſo it is.

Pet. Come go along and fee the truth hereof,
F our firſt merriment hath made thee jealous.
Hor. Well Petruchio, this has put me in heart :
Have to my Widdow, if the be ſroward,
Then haſt thou taught Hortentio to be untoward.

### Enter Biondello, Lucentio and Bianca, Gremio is out before.

Bion. Softely and fwiftely fir, for the Prief is ready.
Luc. I flye Biondello, but they may chance to need
thee at home, therefore leave us.
Exit.

Bion. Nay faith, I'l e fee the Church a your back, and
then come back to my miftris as ſoon as I can.

Gre. I marvail eſt Cambio comes not all this while.

### Enter Petruchio, Kate, Vincentio, Grumio with Attendants.

Pet. Sir heres the door, this is Lucentio's houſe,
My Fathers bears more toward the Market-place,
Thither muſt I, and here I leave you fir.

Vin. You ſhall not choofe but drink before you ſo,
I think I ſhall command your welcome here ?

And by all likelihood ſome cheer is toward.
Knock.
Gre. They're buſe within, you were beſt knock louder.
Pedant looks out of the window.

Ped. What's he that knocks as he would beat down the gate?

Vin. Is Signior Lucentio within fir ?

Ped. He's within fir, but not to be ſpoken withall,

Vin. What if a man bring him a hundred pound or
two to make merry withall,

Ped. Keep your hundred pounds to your ſelf, he ſhall
need none as long as I live.

Pet. Nay, I told you your ſon was well beloved in
Padua : doe you hear fir, to leave frivolous circum-
ftances, I pray you tell Signior Lucentio that his Father
is come from Pisa, and is here at the door to ſpeak with
him.

Ped. Thou lieſt, his Father is come from Padua, and
here looking out at the window.

Vin. Art thou his father ?

Ped. I fir, ſo his mother ſayes, if I may believe her.

Pet. Why how now gentleman: why this is flat kna-
very to take upon you another mans name.

Ped. Lay hands on the villain, I believe he means to
cozen ſome body in this City under my countenance.
Enter Biondello.

Bion. I have ſeen them in the Church together, God
fend'em good ſhipping: but who is here ? mine old Ma-
ſter Vincentio : now we are undone and brought to no-
thing.

Vin. Come hither crackhemp.

Bion. I hope I may choofe Sir.

Vin. Come hither you rogue, what have you forgot me?

Bion. You forgot you, no ſu : I could not forget you, for
I never ſaw you before in all my life.

Vin. What, you notorious villain, did?ft thou neve
fee thy Maſteſs father, Vincentio?

Bion.

The Taming of the Shrew.

227

Bion. What my old worthipfull old maſter ? yes mar-
ry fir, fee where he looks out of the window.

Vin. Is't so indeed ?

He beats Biondello.

Bion. Help, help, help, here's a mad man will mur-
ther me.

Peda. Help, fon, help ſignior Baptiſta.

Pet. Prethee Kate let's stand afide and fee the end of
this controversialie.

Enter Pedant with ſervants, Baptiſta, Tranio.

Tra. Sir, what are you that offer to beat my fer-
vant ?

Vin. What am I fir: nay what are you fir: oh immor-
tall God's : oh fine villain, a ſilken doubiet, a velvet
hose, a scarlet cloak, and a copatain hat: oh I am undone,
I am undone: while I play the good husband at home,
my fon and my ſervant ſpend all at the University.

Tra. how now, what's the matter ?

Bap. What is the man lunatick ?

Tra. Sir, you ſeem a ſober ancient Gentleman by
your habit: but your words ſhow you a mad man: why
fir, what concerns it you, if I wear Pearle and gold: I
thank my good father, I am able to maintain it.

Vin. Thy father ! oh villain, he is a Sail-maker in
Bergamo.

Bap. You miſtake fir, you miſtake fir, pray what do
you think is his name?

Vin. His name, as if I knew not his name : I have
brought him up ever ſince he was three years old, and
his name is Tranio.

Pd. Away, away mad aſſe, his name is Lucentio, and
he is mine only ſon and heir to the Lands of me ſignior
Vincentio.

Vin. Lucentio ! oh he hath murthered his Maſter; lay
hold on him I charge you in the Dukes name: oh my
fonne, my fonne: tell me thou villain, where is my fon
Lucentio?

Tra. Call forth an officer: Carry this mad knave to
the Jayle: father Baptiſta, I charge you fee that he be
forth coming.

Vin. Carry me to the Jayle ?

Gre. Stay officer, he ſhall not go to prifon.

Bap. Talk not ſignior Gremio: I ſay he ſhall go to
prifon.

Gre. Take heed ſignior Baptiſta, leaſt you be coni-
catch'd in this kindneſſe : I dare ſwear this is the right
Vincentio.

Ped. Swear if thou darſt.

Gre. Nay, I dare not ſwear it,

Tra. Then thou wert beſt ſay that I am not Lucen-
tio.

Gre. Yes, I know thee to be ſignior Lucentio.

Bap. Away with the dotard, to the Jayle with him.
Enter Biondello, Lucentio, and Bianca.

Tin. thus ſtrangers may be hal'd and abus'd: oh mon-
frous villain.

Bion. Oh we are foip'd, and yonder he is, deny him,
ſorſwear him, or eſſe we are all undone.

Exit Biondello, Tranio, and Pedant as ſaſt as may be.

Luc. Pardon my ſweet father.

Vin. Lives my ſweet fon ?

Bian. Pardon dear father.

Bap. How haſt thou offended, where is Lucentio?

Luc. Here's Lucentio, right ſon to the right Vin-
centio.

That have by marriage made thy daughter mine,
While counterfeit ſuppofes bleer'd thine cine.

Gre. Here's packing with a witneſſe to deceive us all,

Vin. Where is that damned villain Tranio,

That fac'd and brav'd me in this matter ſo ?

Bap. Why, tell me if not this my Cambio ?

Bian. Cambio is chang'd into Lucentio.

Luc. Love wrought these miracles. Bianca's love
Made me exchange my ſtate with Tranio,

While he did bear my countenance in the town,
And happily I have arriv'd at laſt

Unto the wifed haven of my bliffe.

What Tranio did, my ſelfe enſoſt him to,

Then pardon him ſweet Father for my ſake.

Vin. Ile flit the villains noſe that would have ſent me
to the Jayle.

Bap. But do you hear fir, have you married my daugh-
ter without asking my good will :

Vin. Fear not Baptiſta, we will content you, go to:
but I will in, to be reveng'd on this villain.

Bap. And I to found the depth of this kna very.

Luc. Look not pale, Bianca, thy father will not frown
Exeunt.

Gre. My cake is dogh, but I'le in among the reſt,
Out of hope of all, but my share of the feast.

Kat. Husband let's follow, to fee the end of this adoe.

Pet. First kifs me Kate, and we will.

Kat. What in the midſt of the freet ?

Pet. What art thou aſham'd of me?

Kat. No fir, God forbid, but aſham'd to kifs.

Pet. Why then let's home again: Come firra let's
away.

Kat. Nay, I will give the a kifs, now pray thee Love
ſtay.

Pet. Is not this well ? come my ſweet Kate.

Better once then never, for never too late.

Exeunt.

Actus Quintus.

Enter Baptiſta, Vincentio, Gremio, the Pedant, Lucentio,
and Bianca, Tranio, Biondello, Grumio, and Wid-
dow: The Serving men with Tranio
bringing in a banquet.

Luc. At laſt though long, our jarring notes agree,
And time it is when raging war is come,

To ſmile at ſcapes and peril's overblown :

My fair Bianca bid my father welcome,

While I with ſelfe fame kindneſſe welcome thine:

Brother Petruchio, after Katherina,

And thou Hortentio, with thy loving Widow :

Feaſt with the beſt, and welcome to my house,

My Banquet is to cloſe our ſtochams up.

After our great good cheer: pray you fit down,

For now we fit to chat as well as eat.

Pet. Nothing but fit and fit, and eat and eat.

Bap. Padua affords this kindneſſe, ſon Petruchio.

Pet. Padua affords nothing but what is kind.

Hor. For both our ſakes I would that word were true.

Pet. Now for my life Hortentio fears his Widow.

Hor. Then never truſt me if I be aſcared.

Pet. You are very ſencible, and yet you miſſe my
fence:

I mean Hortentio is aſcared of you.

Wid

All's well that ends well.

## Actus Primus.

## Scena Primae.

Enter young Bertram Count of Roffillion, his Mother, and Helena, Lord Lafew, all in black.

Mother.

N delivering my son from me, I bury a second
husband.

Rof. And in going Madam, weep o're my
Father's death anew; but I must attend his
Majesties command, to whom I am now in Ward, ever-
more in subjection.

Laf. You shall find of the King a husband, Madam, you fir a father. He that so generally is at all times good, must of necessity hold his virtue to you, whose worthiness would fire it up where it wanted, rather then lack it where there is such abundance.

Mo. What hope is there of his Majefties amendment?

Laf. He hath abandon'd his Phificians, Madam, under
whose prætives he hath perfecuted time with hope, and
finds no other advantage in the proceffe, but only the
lofing of hope by time.

Mo. This young Gentlewoman had a Father, O that
had ! how fad a paſſage 'tis, whose skill was almoſt as
great as his honefty, had it ſtretch'd ſo far, would have
made nature immortal, and death ſhould have play for
lack of work. Would, for the Kings ſake, hee were li-
ving, I think it would be the death of the Kings diſeafe.

Laf. How call'd you the man you ſpeak of Madam ?

Mo. He was famous fir, in his ſproffection, and it was
his great right to be ſo : Gerard de Narbon.

Laf. He was excellent indeed, Madam, the King very
lately pſoke of him admiringly, and mourningly : he was
skilfull enough to have liv'd ſtill, if knowledge could be
fet up againſt mortalitie.

Rof. What is it( my good Lord ) the King languifhes
of ?

Laf. A Fiftula my Lord.

Rof. I heard not of it before.

Laf. I would it were not notorious. Was this Gen-
tlewoman the Daughter of Gerard de Narbon ?

Mo. His fole child my Lord, and bequeathed to my
over-looking. I have thofe hopes of her good, that her edu-
cation promifes her diſpositions ſhe inherits, which
makes fair gifts fairer: for where an unclean mind car-
ries vertuous qualities, there commendations go with
pitty, they are vertues and traitors too : in her they are
the better for their ſimplenefſe ; ſhe derives her honeftie,

and atchieves her goodneſſe.

Lafew. Your commendations, Madam, get from her
teares.

Mo. 'Tis the beſt brine a Maiden can feafon her prale
in. The remembrance of her Father never approaches
her heart, but the tiranny of her forrows takes all livel-
hood from her cheek. No more of this Helena, go to, no
more, leaſt it be rather thought you affect a forrow, thin
to have—

Hel. I doe affect a forrow indeed, but I have it too.

Laf. Moderate lamentations is the right of the dead,
excellent grief the enemy to the living.

Mo. If the living be enemy to the grief, the excellent
makes it ſoon mortal.

Rof. Madam, I defire your holy wifhes.

Laf. How underſtand we that ?

Mo. Be thou bleſſed Bertram, and ſucceed thy Father
In manners as in ſhape: thy blood and virtue
Contend for Empire in thee; and thy goodneſſe
Share with thy birth-right. Love all, teuſt a few,
Doe wrong to none: be able for thine enemy
Rather in power then uſe: and keep thy friend
Under thy own lifes key. Be checkt for ſilence,
But never tax'd for ſpeech. What heaven more will,
That thee may furnish, and my prayers pluck down,
Fall on thy hand. Farewell my Lord,
'Tis an unſeafon'd Courtier, good my Lord,
Advife him.

Laf. He cannot want the beſt.

That shall attend his love.

Mo. Heaven bleſſe him: Farewell Bertrams. Exin.

Rof. The beſt wifhes that can be forſd in your
thoughts be ſervants to you : be comfortable to my mo-
ther, your miftreſſe, and make much of her.

Laf. Farewell pretty Lady, you muſt hold the credit
of your Father.

Hel. O were that all, I think not on my Father,
And theſe great tears grace his remembrance more
Then that ſhe I ſhed for him. What was he like ?
I have forgot him. My imagination
Carries no favour in't but Bertrams.
I am undone, there is no living, none,
If Bertram be away. 'Twere all one,
That I should love a bright particular ſtarre,
And think to wed it, he is ſo above me
In his bright radiance and collaterall light,

Muff

All's well that ends well.

231

Muſt I be comforted, not in his [bere;
Th'ambition in my love thus plagues it ſelf:
The Hinde that would be mated by the Lion
Muſt die for love. 'Twas pretty, though a plague
To fee him every hour fit and draw
His arched arrows, his hawking eye, his curles
In our hearts table: heart too capable
Of every line and trick of his ſweet favour.
But now he's gone, and my idolatrous fancy
Muſt ſanctify his Relick. Who comes here?

*Enter Parolles.*

One that goes with him: I love him for his fake,
And yet I know him a notorious Liar,
Think him a great way fool, solely a coward,
Yet theſe fixt evils fit to ſo fit in him,
That they take place, when Virtues ſteely bones
Looks bleak 'th cold wind: withall, full oft we ſee
Cold wifedome waiting on ſuperfluous folly.

*Par.* Save you fair Queen.

*Hel.* And you Monarch.

*Par.* No.

*Hel.* And no.

*Par.* Are you meditating on virginity ?

*Hel.* 1: you have ſome ſtain of ſouldier in you : Let me aske you a question. Man is enemy to virginity, how may we barrocado it againſt him ?

*Par.* Keep him out.

*Hel.* But he affailes, and our virginity though valiant,
in the defence yet is weak: unfold us ſome warlike refi-
tance.

*Par.* There is none: Man ſetting down before you,
will undermine you, and blow you up.

*Hel.* Bleſſe our poor Virginity from Underminers,
and blowers up. Is there no Military policy how Vir-
gins might blow up men ?

*Par.* Virginity being blown down, Man will quickli-
er be blown up: marry in blowing him down again, with
the breach your ſelves made, you loſe your City. It is not
politick, in the common-wealth of Nature, to prefere
virginity. Loffe of Virginity, is rationally encreafe,
and there was never virgin got, till virginity was first loft.
That you were made of, is mettall to make Virgins. Vir-
ginity, by being once loft, may be ten times found: by
being ever kept, it is ever loft: 'tis too cold a companion:
away with't.

*Hel.* I will ſtand for't a little, though therefore I die a Virgin.

*Par.* There's little can be faid in't, 'tis againſt the rule of Nature. To ſpeak on the part of virginity, is to ac-
cufe your Mothers: which is moſt infallible diſobedience.
He that hangs himſelf is a Virgin: Virginity murthers
it ſelf, and ſhould be buried in high-ways out of all
ſanctified limit, as a deſperate Oſſendreſſe againſt Na-
ture. Virginity breeds mites, much like a Cheeſe, con-
fumes it ſelſe to the very pairing, and ſo dies with feed-
ing his own ſtomack. Befides, Virginity is peeviſh,
proud, idle, made of ſelf-love, which is the moſt
inhabited ſin in the Cannon. Keep it not, you can-
not chooſe but looſe by't. Out with't: within ten yeares
it will make it ſelf two, which is a goodly increafe,
and the principall it ſelf not much the worſe. Away
with't.

*Hel.* How might one doe ſir, to looſe it to her own
liking ?

*Par.* Let me fee. Marry ill, to like him that ne're it
likes. 'Tis a commoditie will loſe the gloſſe with lying.
The longer kept, the Iſſe worth: Off with't while 'tis
vendible. Anſwer the time of requeſt, Virginity like
an olde Courtier, weares her cap out of fashion, richly
ſuted, but unſutable, juſt like the broch and the tooth-
pick, which were not now: your Date is better in your
Pye and your Porredge; then in your cheek: and your
virginity, your old virginity, is like one of our French
wither'd Peares; it looks ill, it eats drily, marry 'tis a wi-
ther'd Pear: it was formerly better, marry yet 'tis a wi-
ther'd Pear. Will you any thing with it ?

*Hel.* Not my virginity yet :

There ſhall your Maſter have a thouſand loves,
A mother, and a miſtreſſe, and a friend,
A Phœnix, Captain, and an enemy,
A guide, a goddeſſe, and a ſoveraign,
A Counſellor, a Traitéſſe, and a Dear:
His humbleſt ambition, proud humbness:
His jarring, concord: and his diſcord, dulcet:
His faith, his ſweet diſafter: with a world
Of pretty ſond adoptious chriſtendomes
That blinking Cupid goſſips. Now ſhall he:
I know not what he ſhall, God ſend him well.
The Court's a learning place, and he is one.

*Par.* What one faith ?

*Hel.* That I with well, 'tis pitty.

*Par.* What's pitty ?

*Hel.* That wifhing well had not a body in't,
Which might be felt, that we poorer born,
Whose baſer ſtarres doe flut them up in wifhes,
Might with effects of them follow our friends,
And wſhow what we alone muſt think, which never
Returns us thanks.

*Enter Page.*

*Page.* Monfieur Parolles,

My Lord calls for you.

*Par.* Little Hellen farewell, if I can remember thee,
I will think of thee at Court.

*Hel.* Monfieur Parolles, you were born under a cha-
ritable ſtarre.

*Par.* Under Mars I.

*Hel.* I especially think under Mars.

*Par.* Why under Mars ?

*Hel.* The waters hath ſo kept you under, that you muſt
needs be born under Mars.

*Par.* When he was predominant.

*Hel.* When he was retrogade I think rather.

*Par.* Why think you ſo ?

*Hel.* You go ſo much backward when you fight.

*Par.* That's for advantage.

*Hel.* So is running away,

When fear propofes safety:

But the composition that your valour and fear makes in
you, is a virtue of a good wing, and I like the wear
well.

*Paroll.* I am ſo full of buſineſſes, I cannot anſwer
thee acutely: I will return perfect Courtier, in the
which my inſtruction ſhall ſerve to naturalize thee, ſo
thou wilt be capable of the Courtiers counſell, and un-
derland what advice ſhall thrust upon thee, eſſe thou
dieſt in thine unthankſulneſſe, and thine ignorance makes
thee away, farewell: When thou haſt leſure, lay thy
prayers: when thou haſt none, remember thy Friends:

V 2

Get

232

All's well that ends well.

Get thee a good husband, and use him as he uses thee:
So farewell,
Exit.

Hel. Our remedies oft in our felves doe lie,
Which we aferbe to heaven: the fated skie
Gives us free scope, onely doth backward pull
Our flow defains, when we our felves are dull.
What power is it, which mounts my love to ho:
That makes me fee and cannot feed mine eye ?
The mightieft (pace in fortune, Nature brings
To joyn like,likes ; and kiffe like native things,
Impoffible be strange attempts to thofe
That weigh their pains in fence, and doe fuppofe
What hath been, cannot be. Who ever ftrove
To flew her merit, that did miffle her love?
(The Kings diſeafe) my project may deceive me;
But my intents are fixt, and will not leave me.
Exit.

Flourish Cornets.
Enter the King of France with Letters, and
divers Attendants.

King. The Florentines and Senoys are by th' eares,
Have fought with equall fortune, and continue
A braving warre.

1. Lo. G. So 'tis reported fir.

Kin. Nay 'tis moft credible, we here receive it,
A certainty vouch'd from our Couſin Auftria,
With caution, that the Florentine will move us
For speedy aide: wherein our deareft ſiend
Prejudicates the buſineſſe, and would seem
To have us make denial.

1. L. G. His love and wifedome
Approy'd to your Majefty, may plead
For ampleſt credence.

Kin. He hath arm'd our anſwer,
And Florence is doni'd before he comes :
Yet for our Gentlemen that mean to fee
The Tufcan ſervice, freely have they leave
To ſtand on either part.

2. Lo. E. It may well ſerve
An nurſery to our Gentry, who are ſick
For breathing, and exploit.

King. What's he comes here?

Enter Bertram, Lafew and Parolles.

1. Lo. G. It 'tis the Count Roffillion, my good Lord,
Young Bertram.

King. Youth, thou bear'ft thy Fathers face,
Frank Nature rather curious then in hafte,
Hath well compos'd thee: Thy Fathers morall parts
Maiſt thou inherit too: welcome to Paris.

Ber. My thanks and duty are your Majefties,
Kin. I would I had that corporall foundeſſe now,
As when thy father, and my ſelfe, in friendſhip
Firſt tri'd our ſouldierſhip : he did look farre
Into the ſervice of the time, and was
Difſcipled of the bravſt. He laſted long,
But on us both did haggish Age ſteal on,
And wore us out of act: It much repaires me
To talke of your good father; in his youth
He had the wit, which I can well obſerve
To day in our young Lords: but they may jeſt
Till their own ſorn return to them unnoted,
Ere they can hide their levity in honour :
So like a Courtier, contempt nor bitterneſſe

Were in his pride, or ſharpneſſe, if they were,
His equall had awak'd them, and his honour
Clock to it ſelf, knew the true minute when
Exception bid him ſpeak, and at this time
His tongue obey'd his hand. Who were below him,
He us'd as creatures of another place,
And bow'd his eminent top to their low ranks,
Making them proud of his humilität,
In their poor praife he humbled: Such a man
Might be a copy to theſe younger times;
Which followed well, would demonstrate them now
But goers backward.

Ber. His good remembrance, Sir,
Lies richer in your thoughts, then on his tombe:
So in approoſe lives not his Epitaph,
As in your royall ſpeech.

King. Would I were with him : he would alwaies ſay,
(Me thinks I hear him now) his plaſive words
He latter'd not in eares, but grafted them
To grow there and to bear: Let me not live,
This his good melanchoolly oft began
On the Cataſtrophe and heel of paffime
When it was out: Let me not live (quoth he)
After my flame lacks oyle, to be the ſnuffe
Of younger ſpirits, whose apprehenſive ſenſes
All but new things diſdain; whose judgementsare
Meer fathers of their garments: whose conſtancies
Expire before their ſaſhions: this he wiſh'd.
I after him, doe after him with too :
(Since I, nor wax, nor honie can bring home,)
I quickly were diſſolved from my hiver,
To give ſome Labourers room.

2. L. E. You're loved Sir,
They that leaſt lend it you, ſhall lack you firſt.
King. I fill a place I know't, how long iſt, Count,
Since the Phyſician at your fathers died ?
He was much fam'd.

Ber. Some ſix moneths ſinceimy, Lord,
Kin. If he were living, I would try him yet.
Lend me an arme : the reſt have worn me out
With ſeverall applications: Nature and ſickneſſe
Debate it at their leſure. Welcome Count,
My ſon's no dearer.

Ber. Thankk your Majefty.

Exii.

Flourish.

Enter Counteſſe, Steward, and Clown.

Cou. I will now hear, what ſay you of this Gentlewo-
man.

St. Madam, the care I have had to even your con-
tent, I wiſh might be found in the Kalender of my paff
endeavours, for then we wound our modeſty, and make
foule the clearneſſe of our deſervings, when of our ſelves
we publifh them.

Cou. What do's this knave here? Get you gone firra:
the complaints I have heard of you, I doe not all believe,
'tis my flownneſſe that I doe not : for I know you lack not
folly to commit them, and have ability enough to make
fuch kna veries yours.

Clo. 'Tis not unknown to you Madam, I am a poor
fellow.

Cou. Well fir.

Clo. No Madam,

'Tis not so well that I am poor, though many

All's well that ends well.

233

of the rich are damn'd, but: if I have your Ladyships good
will to go the world, *Isbell* the woman and I will do as
we may.

*Cou.* Wilt thou needs be a beggar ?

*Clo.* I do beg your good will in this cafe.

*Cou.* What cafe ?

*Clo.* In *Isbels* cafe and mine own : service is no heri-
tage, and I think I shall never have the bleffing of God,
till I have iffue a by body, for they fay Barns are blef-
fings.

*- Cou.* Tell me thy reafon why thou wilt Marry ?

*Clo.* My poor body Madam requires it, I am driven on
by the flefh, and he muft needs goe that the devil
drives.

*Cou.* Is this all your worships reafon ?

*Clo.* Faith Madam I have other holy reafons, fuch as
they are.

*Cou.* May the world know them ?

*Clo.* I have been(Madam)a wicked creature,as you and
all flefh and bloud are, and indeed I do marry that I
may repent.

*Cou.* Thy marriage sooner then thy wickedneſs.

*Clo.* I am out a friends, Madam, and I hope to have
friends for my wives fake.

*Cou.* Such friends are thine enemies knave.

*Clo.* Y'are shallow Madam, in great friends, for the
knaves come to do that for me which I am a weary of :
he that ears my Land, spares my teame, and gives me
leave to Inne the crop : if I be his Cuckold, he's my
drudge; he that comforts my wife, is the cherifher of my
flefh and bloud; he that cherifeth my flefh and bloud,
loves my flefh and bloud; he that loves my flefh and
bloud is my friend: ergo, he that kiffes my wife is my
friend : if men could be contented to be what they are,
there were no fear in marriage; for young *Charbon* the
Puritan, and old *Poyfam* the Papift, howſomeere their
hearts are fever'd in Religion, their heads are both one,
they may joule horns together like any Dear i'ch Heard.

*Cou.* Thou wilt ever be a foule mouth'd and calumni-
ous knave.

*Clo.* A prophet, I Madam, and I ſpeak the truth the
next way, for I the Ballad will repeat, which men full
true ſhall finde, your marriage comes by deftiny, your
Cuckow ſings by kinde.

*Cou.* Get you gone fir, I'le talke with you more anon.

*Stew.* May it pleafe you, Madam, that he bid *Hellen* come to you, of her I am to ſpeak.

*Cou.* Sirraff tell my Gentlewoman I would ſpeak with
her, *Hellen* I mean.

*Clo.* Was this fair face the caufe, quoth ſhe,
Why the Grecians facked *Troy*?

*Fond done, done fond, was this King *Priam's* joy?*

With that ſhe fighed as ſhe flood, *bis*

And gave this ſentence then, among nine bad if one be
good, among nine bad if one be good, there's yet one
good in ten.

*Cou.* What, one good in ten ? you corrupt the ſong
firra.

*Clo.* One good woman in ten, Madam, which is the pu-
trifying a'th ſong: would God would ſerve the world fo
all the year, we'd finde no fault with the rithe woman
if I were the Parfon, one in ten quoth a ? and we might
have a good woman born but o're every blazing ſtarre, or
at an earthquake, 'twould mend the Lottery well, a man
may draw his heart out ere a pluck one.

*Cou.* You'l be gone fir knave, and do as I command you?

*Clo.* That man that ſhould be at a women's command,
and get no hurt done, though honeſtly be no Puritan, yet
it will do no hurt; it will wear the Surplis of humility
over the black Gown of a big heart: I am going fortooth,
the buſineſs is for *Hellen* to come hither.

Exit.

*Cou.* Well now.

*Stew.* I know (Madam) you love your Gentlewoman
intirely.

*Cou.* Faith I do : her Father bequeath'd her to me, and
the her ſelf without other advantage, may lawfully make
ticle to as much love as ſhe finde's, there is more owing
her then is paid, and more ſhall be paid her then ſhe'll
demand.

*Stew.* Madam, I was very late more near her then I
think ſhe ſwith'd me: alone ſhe was, and did commu-
nicate to her ſelfe her own words to her own ears: ſae
thought, I dare vow for her, they touch'd not any ſtran-
ger fence: her matter was, ſhe loved your Son: Fortune
the faid was no goddeſs, that had put ſuch difference be-
twixt their two eſtates: Love no god, that would not
extend his might onely, where qualities were levell:
Queen of Virgins, that would ſuffer her poor Knight
furpris'd without ſcue in the firſt affault or ransome
afterward: This ſhe deliver'd in the moſt bitter touch
of forfow that e're I heard Virgin exclaim in, which I
held my duty ſpeedily to acquaint you withall: ſithence
in the loſſe that may happen, it concerns you ſomething
to know it.

*Cou.* You have diſcharg'd this honeſtſ, keep it to
your ſelfe; many likeliehoods inform'd me of this before,
which hung ſo tottring in the ballance, that I could ne-
ver believe nor miſdoubt: pray you leave me, ſtall this
in your boſome, and I thank you for your honeſt care :
I will ſpeak with you further anon.

Exit Steward.

Enter *Hellen*.

*Old Cou.* Even ſo it was with me when I was young :
If ever we are natures theſe are ours, this thorn
Doth to our Rofe of youth rightly belong :
Our bloud to us, this to our bloud is born,
It is the flow and ſeale of natures truth,
Where loves ſtrong paſſion is impreſt in youth ;
By our remembrances of dayes ſo gone,
Such were our ſaults, or then we thought them none:
Her eye is fick on't, I obſerve her now.

*Hel.* What is your pleafure, Madam ?

*Ol. Cou.* You know, *Hellen*, I am a mother to you.

*Hel.* Mine honourable Miftris.

*Ol. Cou.* Nay a mother, why not a mother ? when I
fed mother,

Methought you faw a ſerpent, what's in mother,
That you ſtart at it ? I fay I am your mother,

And put you in the Catalogue of thofe

That were enwombed mine; 'tis often ſeen

Adoption ſtrives with nature, and choife breeds

A native ſlip to us from forraine ſeeds:

You ne're oppreſſe me with a mothers groan,

Yet I expreſſs to you a mothers care :

(Gods mercy maiden) do's it curd thy bloud

To fay I am thy mother ? what's the matter,

That this diſtempered meſſenger of wet,

V 3

The

All's well that ends well.

The many colour'd Iris rounds thine eye?

Why, that you are my daughter?

Hel. That I am not.

Ol. Con. I fay I am your Mother.

Hel. Pardon Madam.

The Count Roffillion cannot be my brother:
I am from humble, he from honoured name:

No note upon my Parents, his all noble,
My Mafter, my dear Lord he is, and I
His fervant live, and will his vaffall die:

He muſt not be my brother.

Ol. Con. Nor I your Mother.

Hel. You are my mother Madam, would you were
So that my Lord your Son were not my brother,
Indeed my mother, or were you both our mothers,
I care no more for, then I do for heaven,
So I were not his ſifter, cant no other,
But I Your daughter, he muſt be my brother.

Ol. Con. Yes Hellen, you might be my daughter in law,
God thield you mean it not, daughter and mother
So ſtrive upon your pulſe; what pale agen?

My fear hath catch'd your fondneſs ! now I fee

The miſtrie of your lovelineſs, and finde

Your ſalt tears head, now to all fence 'tis groſs :
You love my ſon, invention is aſham'd

Againſt the proclamation of thy paſſion

To ſay thou doſt not : therefore tell me true,

But tell me then 'tis ſo, for look, thy cheeſes

Confefs it 'tone to th'other, and thine eyes

See it is ſo groſsly ſhown in thy behaviour,

That in their kinde, they ſpeak it, onely ſin

And heliſh obſtinacy tye thy tongue

That truth ſhould be ſuſpected, ſpeak, is't ſo ?

If it be ſo, you have wound a goodly clew :

If it be not, for wea't : how ere I charge thee,
As heaven ſhall work in me for mine availe

To tell me truly.

Hel. Good Madam pardon me.

Con. Do you love my Son ?

Hel. Your pardon noble Miftris.

Con. Love you my Son ?

Hel. Do not you love him Madam ?

Con. Go not about ; my love hath in't a bond

Whereof the world takes note: Come, come, difcloſe

The ſtate of your affection, for your paffions

Have to the full approach'd.

Hel. Then I confefs

Here on my knee, before high heavens and you,

That before you, and next unto high heaven, I love your
Sonne :

My friends were poor but honeſt, ſo's my love :

Be not offended, for it hurts not him

That he is lov'd of me ; I follow him not

By any token of preſumptuous ſuit,

Nor would I have him, till I do deferve him,

Yet never know how that defert ſhould be :

I know I love in vain, ſtrive againſt hope :

Yet in this captious, and intangible Sive

I ſtill pour in the waters of my love,

And lack not to loose ſill ; thus Indian like

Religious in mine error, I adore

Th' Sun that looks upon his worſhipper,

But knows of him no no more. My deareſt Madam,

Let not your hate encounter with my love

For loving where you do ; but if your ſelf,

Whole aged honour cites a vertuous youth,

Did ever, in ſo true a flame of loving,

With chafſtly, and love dearly, that your Dian

Was both her ſelf and love. O then give pitty

To her whole ſtate is ſuch, that cannot choose

But lend and give where he is ſure to loofe ;

That feeks not to finde that, ſearch implies,

But riddle like, lives ſweetly where he dies.

Con. Had you not lately an intent, ſpeak truly,
To go to Paris ?

Hel. Madam I had.

Con. Wherefore ? tell true.

Hel. I will tell true, by grace it ſelf I swear:

You know my Father left me ſome preſcriptions

Of rare and prov'd effects, ſuch as his reading

And manifeſt experience, had collected

For generall ſoveraignty : and that he will'd me

In heedfull'ſt ſelervation to beſow them,

As notes, whole ſacuities inclusive were,

More then they were in note: Amongſt the reſt,

There is a remedy, approv'd, ſet down,

To cure the desperate languilnings whereof

The King is render'd loſt.

Con. This was your motive for Paris, was it, ſpeak?

Hel. My Lord, your ſon, made me to think of this
Elſe Paris, and the medicine, and the King,
Had from the converſation of my thoughts,
Happily been abſent then.

Con. But think you Hellen,

If you should tender your ſuſpofed aid,

He would: receive it ? He and his physicians

Are of one minde, He, that they cannot help him:

They, that they cannot help: how ſhall they credit

A poor unlearned Virgin, when the Schooles

Embowe'd of their doctrine, have left off

The danger to it ſelf.

Hel. There's ſomething in't

More then my Fathers skill, which was the great't

Of his preſſion, that his good receipt,

Shall for my legacy be ſanctified

Byth' luckieſt ſears in heaven, and would your honour

But give me leave to ſucceſs, I'd venture

The well loſt life of min', on his Graces cure,

By ſuch a day and houre.

Con. Do't thou believ't?

Hel. I Madam knowingly.

Con. Why, Hellen, thou ſhalt have my leave and love,
Means and attendants, and my loving greetings

To thofe of mine in Court, I'll ſtay at home

And pray Gods bleſſing unto thy attempt:

Be gone to morrow, and be ſure of this:

What I can help thee to, thou ſhalt not miſ.

Exempl.

## Aſtus Secundus.

Enter the King with divers young Lords, taking leave for
the Florentine warre: Count Roffe, and
Parolles, Florish Cornets.

King. Farewell young Lords, theſe warlike principles
Do not throw from you ; and you my Lords farewell:
Share the advice betwixt you, if both gain, all
The gift doth ſtretch it ſelf as 'tis receiv'd,
And is enough for both.

Lord, G. 'Tis our hope fir,

After

All's well that ends well.

236

Hell. My duty then shall pay me for my pains:
I will no more enforce my office on you,
Humbly intreating from your royal thoughts,
A medeft one to bear me back again.

Kin. I cannot give thee leſſe to be call'd gratefull :
Thou thought it to help me, and ſuch thanks I give,
As one near death to thofe that with him live :
But what at full I know, thou know'ſt no part,
I knowing all my perill, thou no Art.

Hell. What I can do, can doe no hurt to try,
Since you ſet up your reſt 'gainſt remedy :
He that of greatest works is ſinſher,
Oſt does them by the weakeſt minifter :

So holy Writ, in babes, hath judgement ſhown,
When Judges have been babes, great floods have flown
From ſimple ſources : and great Seas have dried,
When Miracles have by the great'ſt been denied.
Oſt expectation failes, and moſt oft there
Where moſt it promifes : and oft it hits ,
Where hope is coldeſt, and deſpair moſt ſhifts.

Kin. I muſt not hear thee, fare thee well kind maid,
Thy pains not us'd, muſt by thy ſelf be paid,
Proffers not took, reap thanks for their reward.

Hell. Infired Merit fo by breath is hard :
It is not ſo with him that all things knowes
As 'tis with us, that ſquare our gueſſe by ſhowes :

But moſt it is preſumption in us, when
The help of heaven we count the act of men,
Dear fir, to my endeavours give conſent ,
Of heaven, not me, make an experiment.

I am not an Impoſtor, that proclaim
My ſelf againſt the levill of mine aime,
But know, I think, and think I know moſt ſure,
My art is not paſt power, nor you paſt cure.

King. Art thou ſo confident? Within what ſpace
Hop'ſt thou my cure?

Hel. The greatest grace lending grace,
Ere twice the horſes of the ſun ſhall bring
Their fiery torcher his diurnall ring.

Ere twice in murke and occidentall damp,
Moſt Hefperus hath quench'd her ſleepy Lamp :
Or four and twenty times the Pilots glaſſe
Hath told the thieſvih minutes, how they paffe :
What is inſirm, from your ſound parts ſhall ſlie,
Health ſhall live free, and fickneſſe freely die.

King. Upon thy certainty and confidence,
What dar'ſt thou venture ?

Hel. Taxe of impudence,
A ſtrumpets boldneſſe, a divulged ſhame
Traduc'd by odious ballads : my maidens name
Seard otherwife, no worſe of worſt extended
With vileſt torture, let my life be ended.

Kin. Me thinks in thee ſome bleſſed ſpirit doth ſpeak
His powerfull found, wherein an organ weak :
And what impoffibility would ſlay

In common ſente, ſence ſaves another way :
Thy life is dear, for all that life can rate
Worth name of life, in thee hath eſtimate :
Youth, beauty, wifedome, courage, all

That happineſſe and prime, can happy call :
Thou this to hazard, needs muſt intimate

Skill infinite, or monſtrous desperate :
Sweet præſtifer, Thy Phyſick I will try ,

That minifters thine own death if I die.

Hel. If I break time, or ſinch in property
Of what I ſpoke, unpittied let me die,

And well deferv'd : not helping, death's my fee,
But if I help, what doe you promife me.

Kin. Make thy demand.

Hel. But will you make it even ?

Kin. I by my Scepter, and my hopes of help.

Hel. Then ſhalt thou give me with thy kingly hand,
What husband in thy power I will command :
Exempted be from me the arrogance
To choose from forth the royal blood of France,
My low and humble name to propagate
With any branch or image of thy ſlate :
But ſuch a one thy vaffall, whom I know
Is free for me to aske, thee to beſtow.

Kin. Here is my hand, the premises obſerv'd,
Thy will by my performance ſhall be ſerv'd :
So make the choyce of thine own time, for I
Thy reſolv'd Patient, on thee ſtill relie :

More ſhould I queſtion thee, and more I muſt,
Though more to know, could not be more to truſt :
From whence thou cam'ſt, how tended on, but reſt
Unqueſtion'd welcome, and undoubt'd bleſt.
Give me ſome help here hoa, if thou proceed,
As high as word, my deed shall match thy deed.

Exenut.

Enter Counteſſe, and Clown.

Lady. Come on, fir, I ſhall now put you to the height
of your breeding.

Clown. I will ſhow my ſelf highly fed, and lowly
taught, I know my buſineſſe is but to the Court.

Lady. To the Court, why what place make you ſpeci.
all, when you put off that with ſuch contempt, but to the
Court?

Clo. Truly, Madam, if God have lent a man any man-
ners, he may eafily put it off at Court: he that cannot
make a legge, put off's cap, kiffe his hand, and ſay no-
thing, has neither legge, hands, lip, nor cap; and indeed
fuch a fellow, to ſay precifely, were not for the Court,
but for me, I have an anſwer will ſerve all men.

Lady. Marry that's a bountifull anſwer that ſits all
queſtions.

Clo. It is like a Barbers Chair, that ſits all buttocks,
the pin-buttock, the quatch-buttock, the brawn-buttock,
or any buttock.

Lady. Will your anſwer ſerve fit to all queſtions?

Clo. As fit as ten groats is for the hand of an Attorney,
as your French Crown for your Taffaty i Punk, as This
Ruth for Tom's fore-finger, as a Pancake for Shrove-
tuesday, a Morris for May-day, as the naile to his hole,
the Cuckold to his Horn, as a ſcolding Quean to a rang-
ling Knave, as the Nuns lip to the Friar's mouth, nay, as
the Pudding to his skin.

Lady. Have you, I ſay, an anſwer of ſuch fitneſſe for
all queſtions?

Clo. From below your Duke, to beneath your Con-
table, it will fit any queſtion.

Lady. It muſt be an anſwer of moſt monſtrous ſize,
that muſt fit all demands.

Clo. But a trifle neither in good faith, if the learned
thou ſpeak truth of it: here it is, and all that belongs
to't. Aske me if I am a Courtier, it ſhall do you no harm
to learn.

Lady. To be young again if we could: I will be a
fool in queſtion, hoping to be the wiser by your an-
ſwer.

Lady.

All's well that ends well.

237

I pray you fir, are you a Courtier ?

Clo. O Lord fir there's a simple putting off : more, more,
a hundred of them.

La. Sir I am a poor friend of yours; that loves you.

Clo. O Lord fir, thick, thick, spare not me.

La. I think fir ; you can eat none of this homely
meat.

Clo. O Lord fir ; nay put me too't, I warrant you

La. You were lately whipt, fir, as I think.

Clo. O Lord, fir, spare not me.

La. Do you cry, O Lord fir, at your whipping, and
spare not me ? Indeed your, O Lord fir, is very tequent
to your whipping: you would anfwer very well to a whip-
pink if you were but bound too't.

Clo. I ne're had worfe luck in my life in my, O Lord
fir: I see things may serve long, but not serve ever.

La. I play the noble hufwife with the time, to entertain it so merrily with a foole.

Clo. O Lord fir, why there'th serves well agen.

La. And end; fir to your bufineſſe: give Hellen this,
And urge her to a p[re]ſent anſwer-back,
Commend me to my kinni[n]en, and my ſon,
This is not much.

Clo. Not much commendation to them.

La. Not much employment for you, you understand
me.

Clo. Moſt fruitfully, I am there, before my legs.

La. Haſt you agen.

Exeunt.

Enter Countrey Lefaw, and Parolles.

Ol. Laf. They ſay miracles are paſt, and we have our
Philofophical perſon, to make moderne and familiar
things ſupernaturall and cauſeleſſe. Hence is it, that we
make trifles of terours, enſoſing our ſelves into ſeem-
ing knowledge, when we ſhould ſubmit our ſelves to an
unknown fear.

Par. Why 'tis the rareſt argument of wonder, that
hath ſhot out in our latter times.

Rof. And fo'tis.

Ol. Laf. To be relinquifh'd of the Artifts.

Par. So I ſay both of Galen and Paracelsus.

Ol. Laf. Of all the learned and authentick fellows,

Par. Right, ſo I ſay.

Ol. Laf. That gave him out incurable.

Par. Why there'tis, ſo ſay I too.

Ol. Laf. Not to be help'd.

Par. Right, as 'twere a man affur'd of a—

Ol. Laf. Uncertain life, and ſure death.

Par. Juf[it] you ſay well: ſo would I have ſaid.

Ol. Laf. I may truly ſay, it is a novelty to the world.

Par. It is indeed if you will have it in the ſhewing,
you ſhall read it in what do ye call there.

Ol. Laf. A ſhewing of a heavenly effect in an earthly
A[ct]or.

Par. That's it, I would have ſaid, the very fame.

Ol. Laf. Why your Dolphin is not luſtier: for me I
ſpeak in reſpect—

Par. Nay 'tis ſtrange, 'tis very ſtrange, that is the
brief and the tedious of it, and he's of a moſt facinering
ſpirit, that will not acknowledge it to be the—

Ol. Laf. Very hand of heaven.

Par. I, ſo I ſay.

Ol. Laf. In a moſt weak—

Par. And debile minifter great power, great tran-
cendence, which ſhould indeed give us a further uſe to

be made, then only the recovery of the King, as to be—

Ol. Laf. Generally thankfull.

Enter King, Helen, and attendants.

Par. I would have faſt it, you ſaid well: here comes
the King.

Ol. Laf. Luſtick, as the Dutchman fayes : I'le like
a maid the better while I have a tooth in my head: why
he's able to lead her to a Carranto.

Par. Mor du vinag[er], is not this Helen ?

Ol. Laf. Fore God I think ſo.

King. Go call before me all the Lords in Court,
Sit, my preferrer, by thy patients ſide,
And with this healthfull hand whoſe banifh'd fence
Thou haſt repeal'd, a ſecond time receive
The confirmation of my promis'd gift,
Which but attends thy naming.

Enter three or four Lords.

Fair Maid, ſend forth thine eye, this youthfull parcell
Of Noble Batchellors, ſtand at my beſtowing.

Ore whom both Soveraigne power, and fathers voіce
I have to uſe; thy frank election make,

Thou haſt power to chooſe, and they none to forſake.

Hel. To each of you, one fair and vertuous Maſtris ;
Fall when love pleafe: marry to each, but one.

Ol. Laf. I'de give bay curtall, and his furniture,

My mouth no more were broken then theſe boyes,

And writ as little beard.

King. Perufe them well:

Not one of thofe, but had a Noble father.

She addreffes her to a Lord.

Hel. Gentlemen, heaven hath through me, reſtor'd
the King to health.

All. We understand it, and thank heaven for you,

Hel. I am a ſimple Maid, and therein wealthieſt,

That I proteſt; I ſimply am a maid.

Pleefe it your Majefty, I have done already :

The bluſhes in my cheeks thus whisper me.

Kin. We bluſh that thou ſhouldſt chooſe, but be reſuſed;

Let not white death fit on thy cheeks for ever,

We'll ne're come there again.

Make choice and fee,

Who ſhuns thy love, ſhuns all his love in me.

Hel. Now Dian from thy Altar do I fly,

And to impartial Jove, that God moſt high

Do my ſighes ſtream: Sir, will you hear my ſuit ?

1. Lo. And grant it.

Hel. Thanks fir, all the reſt is mure.

Ol. Laf. I had rather be in this choice, then throw

A deaſt-ace for my life.

Hel. The honour fir, that flames in your fair eyes,

Before I ſpeak too threateningly reſplies :

Love make your fortunes, twenty times above

Her that ſo wifhes, and her humble love.

2. Lo. No better if you pleafe.

Hel. My wifh receive,

Which great Jove grant, and ſo I take my leave.

Ol. Laf. Do all they deny her ? And they were ſons
of mine, I'de have them whip'd, or I would ſend them
to'th Turk to make Eunuches of.

Hel. Be not afraid that I your hand ſhould take,
I'le never do you wrong for your own ſake:

Bleſſing upon your vowes, and in your bed

Finde fairer fortune, if you ere wed.

Ol. Laf. Theſe boyes are boyes of Ice, they'le none
have

All's well that ends well.

haue her: fure they are baftards to the English
ne're got em.

Hel. You are too young, too happy, and too good
To make your fon out of my blood.

4. Lord. Fair one, I think not so,

Ol. Lord. There's one grape yet, I am sure my father
drunk wine. But if thou be'ft not an affe, I am a youth
of fourteen: I have known thee already.

Hel. I dare not say I take, but I give
Me and my fervice, ever whil'ft I live

Into your guiding power: This is the man.

King. Why then young Bertram take her, ſhe's thy
wife.

Ber. My wife my Liege ? I shall befeech your highneſs,
In ſuch a buſineſſe, give me leave to uſe
The help of mine own eyes.

Kin. Know'ft thou not, Bertram, what ſhe hath done
for me ?

Ber. Yes my good Lord, but never hope to know why
I should marry her.

King. Thou know'ſt ſhe has rais'd me from my fick-
ly bed.

Ber. But follows it my Lord, to bring me down
Muſt anſwer for your raſing ? I know her well :
She had her breeding at my fathers charge :
A poor Phyſicians daughter my wife ? Difdain
Rather corrupt me ever.

King. 'Tis onely Title thou difdainſt in her, the which
I can build up: ſtrange is it that our blouds
Of colour, weight, and heat, pour'd all together,
Would quite confound diffiſtination: yet ſtands off
In differences of mightie. If ſhe be

All that is virtuous (I have what thou diſliſt)

A poor Phyſician's daughter, thou diſliſt

Of Virtue for the name : but do not ſo :

From lowſt place, whence virtuous things proceed,
The place is dignified by th' door's deed.

Where great addition ſwells, and virtue none,

It is a dropſed honour, Good alone,
Is good without a name ? Vilenets is ſo :

The property by what it is, ſhould go,

Not by the title. She is young, wife, fair,
In theſe, to Nature ſhe's immediate heir :

And theſe breed honour : that is honours ſcorn,

Which challenges it ſelf as honours born,

And is not like the fire: Honours beſt thrive,

When rather from our acts we them derive

Then our fore-goers: the meer word's a ſlave
Deboſh'd on every tombe, on every grave :

A lying Trop'ee, and as oft is dumb,

Where duſt, and damn'd oblivion is the Tomb,
Of honour'd bones indeed, what ſhould be faſd ?

If thou canſt like this creature, as a maid,

I can create the reſt: Vertue, and ſhe

Is her own dowre: Honour and wealth, from me.

Ber. I cannot love her, nor will I ſtrive to doo't.

King. Thou wrong'ſt thy ſelf, if thou should'ſt ſtrive to
chooſe.

Hel. That you are well reſtor'd my Lord, I'me glad :
Let the reſt go.

King. My Honor's at the ſlake, which to defeat
I muſt produce my power. Here, take her hand,
Proud ſcornfull boy, unworthy this good gift,
That doſt in vile miſprifion ſhackle up

My love, and her defert: that can'ſt not dream,
We poizing us in her defective ſcale,

Shall weigh thee to the beam: That wilt not know,
It is in Us to plant thine Honour, where

We pleate to have it grow. Check thy contempt:
Obey Our will, which travels in thy good:

Believe not thy diſdain, but prefently

Do thine own fortunes that obedient right

Which both thy duty owes, and our power claims,

Or I will throw thee from my cares for ever
Into the flaggers and careleſſe lapſe

Of youth and ignoronce: both my revenge and hate

Loofing upon thee, in the name of justice,

Without all terms of pitty. Speak thine anſwer,

Ber. Pardon my gracious Lord: for I ſubmit

My fancie to your eyes, when I confider

What great creation, and what dole of honour

Flies where you bid it: I finde that ſhe which late

Was in my nobler thoughts, moſt bafe: is now

The praſed of the King, who ſo ennobled,

Is as 'twere born ſo.

King. Take her by the hand.

And tell her ſhe is thine: to whom I promife

A counterpoize: If not in thy eſtate,

A ballance more repleat.

Ber. I take her hand.

Kin. Good fortune, and the favour of the King
Smile upon the contract: whose Ceremony

Shall ſeem expedient on the now born brief,

And be perform'd to night: the ſolemne Feaſt

Shall more attend upon the coming ſpace,

Expecting abſent friends. As thou lov't her,

Thy lov's to me Religious: eſſe, do's erre.

Exenunt.

Parolles and Lafew ſay behind, comment-
ing of this wedding.

Laf. Doe you hear Monſieur ? a word with you,

Par. Your pleasure fir.

Laf. Your Lord and Maſter did well to make his re-
cantation.

Par. Recantation ? my Lord ? my Maſter ?

Laf. I, is it not a Language I ſpeak ?

Par. A moſt harſh one, and not to be underſtood
without: bloody ſucceeding. My Maſter ?

Laf. Are you companion to the Count Reſſillon?

Par. To any Count, to all Counts: to what is man.

Laf. To what is Counts man: Counts maſter is el
another title.

Par. You are too old fir: Let it faſſiſe you, you are
too old.

Laf. I muſt tell thee firrah, I write Man: to which
title age cannot bring thee.

Par. What I dare too well doe, I dare not doe.

Laf. I did think thee for two ordinaries to be a pretty
wife fellow. If thou didſt make tollerable vent of thy tra-
vel, it might paffe: yet the ſcarſes and the banners
about thee, did manifoldly diſwade me from believing
chee a veſſell of too great a burthen. I have now found
chee, when I lofe thee again, I care not: yet art thou
good for nothing but taking up, and that thou'rt ſcarſed
worth.

Par. Hadſt thou not the privilege of Antiquity upon
chee.

Laf. Doe not plunge thy ſelf too far in anger, let
thou haſten thy triall: which is, Lord have mercy on
chee for a hen; ſo my good window of Lattice, faire the
well, thy cafement I need not open, I look through thee
Give me thy hand.

Par. My Lord, you give me moſt egregious indignity.

Laf.

All's well that ends well.

239

Laf. I, withall my heart, and thou art worthy of it.

Par. I have not my Lord defervid it.

Laf. Yes, good faith, ev'ry dram of it, and I will not bate thee a fiple.

Par. Well, I shall be wiser.

Laf. Ev'n as soon as thou can'ft, for thou haft to pull at a fimack a'th contrary. If ever thou bee't bound in thy skarfe and beaten, thou haft finde what it is to be proud of thy bondage, I have a defie to hold my acquain- tance with thee, rather than my knowledge, that I may say in the default, he is a man I know.

Par. My Lord you do me moft insupportable vexation.

Laf. I would it were hell pains for thy fake, and my poor doing eternall: for doing I am paft, as I will by thee, in what motion age will give me leave.

Par. Well, thou haft a fon shall take this difgrace off me; ſcurvy, old, filthy, ſcurvy Lord: Well, I muſt be patient, there is no fettering of authority. I'le beat him (by my life) if I can meet him with any conveni- ence, and he were double and double a Lord. I'le have no more pitty of his age then I would have of--------I'le beat him, and if I could but meet him agen.

### Enter Lafew.

Laf. Sirra, your Lord and Maſter's married, there's newes for you: you have a new Miftris.

Par. I moſt unfainedly beſeeth your Lordſhip to make ſome reſervation of your wrongs, He is my good Lord, whom I ſerve above is my Maſter.

Laf. Who ? God.

Par. I ſir.

Laf. The devill it is, that's thy maſter. Why dooceth thou garter up thy armes a this ſafhion ? Doſt make hove of thy ſleeves? Do other ſervants ſo ? Thou wert beſt ſet thy lower part where thy noſe ſlands. By mine Honour, if I were but two hours younger, I'de beat thee: me-think'ft thou art a general ſoffence, and every man should beat thee: I think thou waſt created for men to breathe themſelves upon thee.

Par. This is hard and undeferred meaſure my Lord.

Laf. Go to fir, you were beaten in Italy for picking a kernel out of a Pomgatan, you are a vagabond, and no true traveller: you are more fawcie with Lords and honora- ble perſonages, then the commiffion of your birth and vertue gives you Heraldry. You are not worth another word, eſſe I'de call you knave. I leave you.

### Enter Count Reſſillion.

Par. Good, very good, it is ſo then: good, very good, let it be conceal'd a while.

Reſ. Undone, and forſeited to cares for ever.

Par. What's the matter, sweet-heart ?

Reſ. Although before the ſolemn Priſt I have ſworn, I will not bed her.

Par. What? what sweet heart ?

Reſ. O my Parrolles, they have married me: I'le to the Tufcan warris, and never bed her.

Par. France is a dog-hole, and it no more merits, the tread of a mans foot: too'th warris.

Reſ. There's letters from my mother: What th'import is, I know not yet.

Par. I that would be known: too'th warris my boy, too'th warris:

He wears his honour in a box unſeen,
That huggs his kickſie wickſie here at home,
Spending his manly marrow in her armes
Which should fuſtain the bound and high curvet
Of Mars's ſiery ſeed: to other Regions,
France is a ſtble, we that dwell in't, Jades,
Therefore to th' warre.

Reſ. It shall be ſo, I'le ſend her to my house,
Acquaint my mother with my hate to her,
And wherefore I am ſled: Write to the King:
That which I duſt not ſpeak. His preſent gift
Shall ſurniſh me to thate Italian fields
Where noble fellows ſtrike: War is no ſtife
To the dark house, and the detected wife.

Par. Will this Caprichio hold in thee, art ſure ?

Reſ. Go with me to my chamber, and adviſe me.
I'le ſend her ſtraight away: To morrow
I'le to the warris, ſhe to her single ſorrow.

Par. Why theſe balls bound, there's noſe in it. 'Tis hard
A young man married, is a man that's mar'd:
Therefore away, and leave her bravely: go,

The King ha's done you wrong: but huf'tis ſo.
Exit.

### Enter Helena and Clown.

Hel. My mother greets me kindly, is ſhe well?

Clo. She is not well, but yet ſhe ha's her health, ſhe's very merry, but yet ſhe is not well: but thanks be given ſhe's very well, and want's nothing i'th world: but ye, ſhe is not well.

Hel. If ſhe be very well, what do's ſhe ayle, that ſhe's not very well?

Clo. Truly ſhe's very well indeed, but for two things.

Hel. What two things?

Clo. One that ſhe is not in heaven, whither God ſend her quickly: the other that ſhe's in earth, from whence God ſend her quickly.

### Enter Parolles.

Par. Bleſs you my fortunate Ladie,

Hel. I hope fir I have your good will to have mine own good fortune.

Par. You had my prayers to lead them on, and to keep them on, have them ſtill. O my knave, how do's my old Lady ?

Clo. So that you had her wrinkles and I her moneys, I would ſhe did as you ſay.

Par. Why I ſay nothing.

Clo. Marry you are the wiser man: for many a mans tongue ſhakes out his maſters undoing: to ſay nothing, to do nothing, to know nothing, and to have nothing, is to be a great part of your title, which is within a very little of nothing.

Par. Away, th'art a knave.

Clo. You should have ſaid fir before a knave, th'art a knave, that's before th'art a knave: this had been truth fir.

Par. Go to, thou art a witty foole, I have found thee.

Clo. Did you finde me in your ſelf fir, or were you taught to finde me.

Clo. The search fir was profica'le, and much Fool may you finde in you, even to the worlds pleasure, and the en- create of laughter.

Par. A good knave ifaith, and well fed.
Madam, my Lord will go away to night,

A

All's well that ends well.

240

A very serious bufinefle calls on him :

The great prerogative and rite of love,
Which as your due time claims, he do's acknowledge,
But puts it off by a compell'd restraint :

Whose want, and whose delay, is strew'd with tweets
Which they diffill now in the curbed time,

To make the comming hour o'reflow with joy,

And pleafure drown the brim.

Hel. What's his will eſſe ?

Par. That you will take your inſtant leave a'chking,
And make this haſt as your own good proceeding.

Strengthned with what Apologie you think

May make it probable need.

Hel. What more commands he ?

Par. That having this obtain'd, you prefently

Attend his further pleafure.

Hel. In every thing I wait upon his will.

Par. I ſhall report it ſo.

Hel. I pray you come, firrah.

Enter Lafew and Bertram.

Laf. But I hope your Lordship thinks not him a
fouldier.

Ber. Yes my Lord, and of very valiant approſe.

Laf. You have it from his own deliverance,

Ber. And by other warranted testimony.

Laf. Then my Diall goes not true, I took this Larke
for a bunting.

Ber. I doe affure you my Lord, he is very great in
knowledge, and accordingly valiant.

Laf. I have then finn'd againſt his experience, and
transſrefit againſt his valour, and my ſtate that way is dan-
gerous, ſince I cannot find in my heart to repent: Here
he comes, I pray you make us friends, I will purſue the
amity.

Enter Parolles.

Par These things ſhall be done fir.

Laf. Pray you fir who's his Tailor ?

Par. Sir ?

Laf. O I know him well, I fir, he fir's a good work-
man, a very good Tailor.

Ber. Is the gone to the king ?

Par. She is.

Ber. Will the away to night ?

Par. As you'l have her.

Ber. I have writ my letters, casketed my treaſure,
Given order for our horſe, and to night,
When I should take poſſeflion of the Bride,
And ere I do begin.

Laf. A good traveller is ſomething at the latter end of
a dinner, but on that lies three thirds, and uſes a known
truth to paffe a thousand nothings with, should be once
heard, and thrice beaten. God save you Captain.

Ber. Is there any unkindneſſe between my Lord and
you Monsieur ?

Par. I know not how I have deferved to run into my
Lords diſpleaſure.

Laf. You have made shift to run into't, boots and
ſpurres and all: like him that leaps into the Cuitard, and
out of it you'll run again, rather then ſuffer queſtion for
your residence.

Ber. It may be you have miftaken him my Lord.

Laf. And ſhall doe ſo ever, though I took him at's
prayers. Fare you well my Lord, and believe this of

me, there can be no kernell in this light Nut : The ſon
of this man is his cloathes : Truſt him not in matter
heavy conſequence : I have kept of them tame, and know
their natures. Farewell Monsieur, I have 'spoken bem
of you, then you have or will deferve at my hands, but we
muſt do good againſt evil.

Par. An idle Lord, I ſwear.

Ber. I think ſo.

Par. Why doe you not know him ?

Ber. Yes, I do know him well, and common ſpeſt
Gives him a worthy paffe. Here comes my clog.

Enter Helena.

Hel. I have fir as I was commanded from you
Spoke with the King, and have procu'd his leave
For preſent parting, onely he defires
Some private ſpeech with you,

Ber. I ſhall obey his will.

You muſt not marvell Helen at my courſe,
Which holds not colour with the time, nor does
The minification, and required office
On my particular. Prepar'd I was not
For ſuch a bufineſſe, therefore am I found

So much unſetled: This drives me to enter you,
That preſently you take your way for home,
And rather muſe then aske why I intreat you,
For my reſpects are better then they ſeem,
And my appointments have in them a need
Greater then ſhewes it ſelf at the firſt view,
To you that know them nor. This to my mother,
I will be two daies ere I ſhall fee you, ſo
I leave you to your wifdome.

Hel. Sir, I can nothing ſay,

But that I am your moſt obedient ſervant,

Ber. Come, come, no more of that.

Hel. And ever ſhall

With true obſervance ſeeke to eke e our that

Wherein toward me my homely ſtarres have ſaſt
To equall my great fortune.

Ber. Let that go : my haſte is very great, Farewell
Hie home,

Hel. Pray fir your pardon.

Ber. Well, what would you ſay ?

Hel. I am not worthy of the wealth I owe,

Nor dare I ſay 'tis mine: and yet it is,

But like a timorous thief, moſt fain would I real
What law do's vouch mine own.

Ber. What would you have ?

Hel. Something, and ſcearce ſo much : nothing indeed
I would not tell you what I would my Lord: Faith yes,
Sfrangers and foes doe ſunder, and not kiffe.

Ber. I pray you ſtay not, but in haſte to horſe,

Hel. I ſhall not break your bidding, good my Lord:
Where are my other men? Monsieur, farewell.

Ber. Go thou toward home, where I will never come
Whil'th I can ſhake my sword, or hear the drumme :
A way, and for our flight.

Par. Bravely, Coragio.

Adus Tertius.

Flourish. Enter the Duke of Florence, the two French-
men, with 'arroop of Souldiers.

Duke. So that from point to point, now have you heard
This

242

All's well that ends well.

you written to bear along.

Iren. G. We serve you, Madam, in that, and all your worthicſt affaires.

La. Not fo, but as we change our courteſies,
Will you draw near ? Exit.

Hel. Till I have no wife, I have nothing in France.
Nothing in France untill he has no wife :

Thou ſhalt have none Roffillion, none in France,
Then haſt thou all again : poor Lord, is't I
That chafe thee from thy Countrie, and expeſe
Thofe tender limbes of thine, to the event
Of the none ſparing warre ? And is it I,
That drive thee from the ſportive Court, where thou
Was't ſhot at with fair eyes, to be the marke
Of ſmoaky Muskets ? O you leaden meſſengels,
That ride upon the violent ſpeed of fire,
Fly with ſalſe aime, move the ſtill-piercing aire
That ſtings with piercing, doe not touch my Lord :
Who ever hoots at him, I fet him there.

Who ever charges on his forward breſſ,
I am the Caitiffe that doe hold him to it,
And though I kill him not, I am the cauſe
His death was ſo affected. Better 'twere
I met the ravine Lyon when he roar'd

With ſharpe conſtraint of hunger : better 'twere,
That all the miferies which nature owes
Were mine at once. No, come thou home, Roffillion,
Whence honour but of danger winnes a ſcarre,
As oſt it loofes all, I will be gone :

My being here it is, that holds thee henee,
Shall I ſay here to do't? No, no, although
The aire of Paradife did fan the houſe,
And Angels offic'd all : I will be goric,

That pittifull rumour may report my flight
To confolate thine ear. Come night, end day,
For with the darke (poor thief) I'le ſteal away.

Exit.

Flourish. Enter the Duke of Florence, Roffillion, Drumme and Trumpets, Soldiers, Parolles.

Duke. The Generall of our Horſe thou art, and we
Great in our hope, lay our beſt love and credence
Upon thy promiting fortune.

Roff. Sir, it is

A charge too heavy for my ſtrength, but
We'l ſtrive to bear it for your worthy ſake,
To th'extreme edge of hazard.

Du. Then go thou forth,
And fortune play upon thy p[ro]ſperous helm
As thy auſpicious miſtreſſe.

Roff. This very day,
Great Mars, I put my ſelf into thy ſile,
Make me but like my thoughts, and I ſhall prove
A lover of thy Drumme; hater of love.

Exeunt omnes.

Enter Counteſſe and Steward.

La. Alafs I and would you take the letter of her :
Might you not know ſhe would doe, as ſhe has done,
By ſending me a Letter. Read it agen.

Letter.

I am S. Jaques Pilgrim, thither gone :

Ambitious lone hath so in me offended,
That bare-foot plod I the cold ground upon

With ſainted vow my ſaults to have amended.

Write, write, that from the course of warre,
My dearest Maſter, your dear ſon, may he,
Bleſſe him at home in peace, whil't I from farre,
His name with zealous fervour ſanctiſe :

His taken labours bid him me forgive :

I his deſpightſull Juno ſent him forſth,
From Courtly friends, with camping foes to live,
Where death and danger dogs the heels of worth.

He is too good and fair for death, and me,

Whom I my ſelf embrace, to ſet him free.

Ah what ſharp ſtings are in her mildeſt words ?

Rynaldo, you did never lack advice ſo much,
As letting her paffe ſo : had I ſpoke with her,
I could have well diverted her intents,
Which thus ſhe hath prevented.

Ste. Pardon me, Madam,
If I had given you thisat over-night,
She might have been o'retane : and yet ſhe writes
Purſuit would be but vain.

La. What Angel ſhall
Bleſſe this unworthy husband, he cannot thrive,
Unleſſe her prayers, whom heaven delights to hear,
And loves to grant, reſpire him from the wrath
Of greatest Juitice. Write, write, Rynaldo,
To this unworthy husband of his wife,
Let every word weigh heavy of her worth,
That he does weigh too light : my greatest grief,
Though little he feel it, fet down ſharply.

Diſpatch the moſt convenient meſſenger,
When haply he ſhall hear that ſhe is gone,
He will return, and hope I may that ſhe
Hearing ſo much will ſpeed her foot again,
Led hither by pure love : which of them both
Is deareſt to me, I have no skill in fence
To make diſtinction : provide this Meſſenger :

My heart is heavy, and mine age is weak,

Grief would have teares, and forrow bids me ſpeak.

Exeunt.

A Tucket aſfarre off.

Enter an old Widow of Florence, her daughter, Violent and Mariana, with other Citizens.

Widow. Nay come,

For if they doe approach the Cicy,
We ſhall looke all the fight.

Dia. They ſay, the French Count has done
Moſt honourable ſervic[e].

Wid. It is reported,
That he has taken their great't Commande,
And that with his own hand he ſlew
The Dukes brother : we have loft our labour,
They are gone a contrary way : harke,

Maria. Come let's return again,
And ſuffice our ſelves with the report of it.
Well Diana, take heed of this French Earle,
The honour of a Maid is in her name,
And no Legacy is ſo rich

As honeſty.

Wid. I have told my neighbour
How you have been ſollicited by a Gentleman
His Companion.

Maria

24+

All's well that ends well.

Prize him; fuch I will have whom I am sure he knowes
Not from the enemy: we will binde and hood-wink
him for't, that he shall fuppofe no other but that he is car-
ried into the Leager of the adverfaries, when we bring
him to our own tents: be but your Lordship p[r]eſent at
his examination, if he does not for the promite of his life,
and in the higheſt compulſion of bare fear, offer to betray
you, and deliver all the intelligence in his power against
you, and that with the divine forſeit upon his ſoul upon
oath, never truſt my judgment in any thing.

Cap. G. O, for the love of laughter, let him fetch his drumme, he fayes he has a ſtratagem for't: when your Lordship ſees the bottom of this ſucceſſe in't, and to what mettle this counterfeit lump of ours will be melted, if you give him not John Drumm's entertainment, your inclining cannot be removed. Here he comes.

Enter Parolles.

Cap. E. O, for the love of laughter, hinder not the honou r of his design, let him fetch off his drumme in any hand.

Ber. How now Monfieur ? This drumme ſticks ſorely in your diſpoſition.

Cap. G. A pox on't, let it go, 'tis but a drumme.

Par. But a drumme ! Is't but a drumme? A drumme ſo
loſt. There was excellent command, to charge in with
our horſe upon our own wings, and to rend our own
ſouldiers,

Cap. G. That was not to be blan'd in the command of the ſervice, it was a diſafter of warre, that Caſar himſelf could not have prevented, if he had been there to command.

Ber. Well, we cannot greatly condemn our ſucceſſe: ſome diſhonour we had in the loſſe of that drumme, but it is not to be recovered.

Par. It might have been recovered.

Ber. It might, but it is not now.

Par. It is to be recovered, but that the merit of fer-
vice is ſeldome attributed to the true and exact perfor-
mer, I would have that drumme or another, or hic ja-
cet.

Ber. Why, if you have ſtomack to't, Monſen: if
you think your myſtery in ſtratagem can bring this in-
trument of honour again into his native quarter, be mag-
nanimous in the enterprize and go on, I will grace the
attempt for a worthy exploit: if you ſpeed well in it, the
Duke ſhall both ſpeak of it, and extend to you what fur-
ther becomes his greatneſſe, even to the utmoſt ſyllable of
your worthineſſe.

Par. By the hand of a ſouldier, I will undertake it.

Ber. But you muſt not now ſlumber in it.

Par. I'le about it this evening, and I will prefently
pen down my dilemmas, encourage my ſelf in my cer-
tainty, put my ſelf into my mortall preparation: and by
midnight look to hear further from me.

Ber. May I be bold to acquaint his grace you are gone about it,

Par. I know not what the ſucceſſe will be, my Lord,
but the attempt I vow.

Ber. I know th'art valiant,

And to the poffibility of thy ſouldier-ſhip,
Will ſubſcribe for thee: Farewell.

Par. I love not many words.

Cap. E. No more then a fifth loves water. Is not this a ſtrange fellow, my Lord, that ſo confidently ſeems to

undertake this buſineſſe, which he knowes is not to be
done, damnes himſelf to doe, and dares better be damnd
then to do't.

Cap. G. You doe not know him, my Lord, as we do
certain it is, that he will ſeat himſelf into a man's ſi-
vour, and for a week etcape a great deale of diſcon-
ories, but when you find him out, you have him ever al-
ter.

Ber. Why doe you think he will make no deede in
all of this, that ſo ſeriously he do's addreſſe himſelf un-
to?

Cap. E. None in the world, but return with an in-
vention, and clap upon you two or three probable liſs
but we have almost imboſh you, you ſhall fee his fall to
night; for indeed he is not for your Lordships no-
ſpect.

Cap. G. We'll make you ſoma ſport with the Foul
ere we cafe him. He was firſt ſmoak'd by the old Lord
Lafew; when his diſguſe and he is parted, tell me when
a ſprat you ſhall find him, which you ſhall fee this very
night.

Cap. E. I muſt go look my twigs,

He ſhall be caught.

Ber. Your brother he ſhall go along with me.

Cap. G. As't pleafe your Lordship, I'll leave you,

Ber. Now will I lead you to the houſe, and ſhow you
the Laffe I spoke of.

Cap. E. But you ſay ſhe's honest.

Ber. That's all the fault: I spoke with her but once,
And found her wondrous cold, but I ſent to her
By this fame Coxcombe that we have i'th'winde
Tokens and Letters, which he did ſendref,
And this is all I have done: She's a fair creature,
Will you go fee her?

Cap. E. With all my heart, my Lord.

Extro.

Enter Hellen, and Widow.

Hel. If you miſdoubt me that I am not ſhe,
I know not how I ſhall aſſure you further,
But I ſhall looke the grounds I work upon.

Wid. Though my ſtate be ſaln, I was well born,
Nothing acquainted with theſe buſineſſes,
And would not put my reputation now
In any ſtaining act.

Hel. Nor would I w[ith] you.
Fifth give me truſt, the Count he is my husband,
And what to your ſworn confuſel I have ſpoken,
Is ſo from word to word : and then you cannot
By the good aide that I of you ſhall borrow,
Erre in beſtowing it.

Wid. I should believe you,
For you have ſhew'd me that which well approves
You're great in fortune.

Hel. Take this purſe of Gold,
And let me buy your friendly help this farre,
Which I will over-pay, and pay again
When I have found it. The Count he wooes your
daughter,

Layes down his wanton ſiege before her beauty,
Reſolves to carry her: let her in fine conſent
As we'll direct her how 'tis beſt to bear it :
Now this important blood will naught deny,
That he'l demand : a ring the County weares,
That downward hath ſucceeded in his houſe
From ſon to ſon, ſome four or five deſcents,

Since

All's well that ends well.

L. E. Go tell the Count Roffillion and my brother,
We have caught the Woodcock, and will keep him muff-
Till we doe hear from them.
(feld

Sol. Captain I will.

L. E. A will betray us all unto our selves,
Inform on that.

Sol. So I will fir.

L. E. Till then I'll keep him dark and safely lockt.

Enter Bertram, and the Maid called Diana.

Exit.

Ber. They told me that your name was Fontibell.

Dia. No my good Lord, Diana.

Ber. Titled Goddiffe,

And worth it with addition : but fair foul,

In your fine frame hath love no quality?

If the quick fire of youth light not your mind,
You are no Maiden but a monument :

When you are dead you shall be such a one.

As you are now, for you are cold and ftem :
And now you should be as your Mother was

When your sweet self was got.

Diana. She then was honest.

Ber. So should you be.

Diana. No.

My Mother did but duty, such (my Lord)

As you owe to your wife.

Ber. No more a'that :

I prethee doe not ftrive againft my vows :

I was compell'd to her, but I love thee

By loves own sweet conftraint, and will for ever

Doe thee all rights of service.

Diana. I fo you serve us

Till we serve you : But when you have our Rofes,
You barely leave our Thorns to prick our felves,
And mock us with our bareneſſe.

Ber. How have I fworn.

Dia. 'Tis not the many oathes that make the truth,
But the plain fingle vow, that is vow'd true :

What is not holy, that we swear not by,

But take the high'ft to witneſſe : then pray you tell me,
If I should fwear by Joves great attribute,

I lov'd you dearly, would you believe my oathes,

When I did love you ill ? This has no holding

To fwear by him whom I proteſt to love

That I will work againſt him. Therefore your oathes

Are words and poor conditions, but unfeal'd

At leaſt in my opinion.

Ber. Change it, change it :

Be not fo holy cruell : Love is holy,

And my integrity ne're knew the crafts

That you doc charge men with : Stand no more off,

But give thy ſelf unto my ſick defires,

Who then recovers, Say thou art mine, and ever

My love, as it begins, shall fo perſever.

Dia. I fee that men make ropes in ſuch a ſcarre,
That we'll forſake our ſelves, Give me that Ring.

Ber. I'll lend it thee my dear, but have no power
To give it from me.

Dia. Will you not, my Lord ?

Ber. It is an honour longing to our houſe,
Bequeathed down from many Anceftors,
Which were the greatest obloquy i'th world,
In me to loofe.

Dia. Mine Honour's ſuch a Ring,
My Chaſtitie's the Jewell of our houſe,

Bequeathed down from many Anceftors,
Which were the greatest obloquy i'th world,
In me to loofe. Thus your own proper wifedome
Brings in the Champion honour on my part,
Against your vain affault.

Ber. Here, take my Ring,
Hy houſe, my honour, yea my life be thine,
And I'll be bid by thee.

Dia. When midnight comes, knock at my chamber
window :

I'll order take, my mother ſhall not hear.

Now will I charge you in the band of truth,
When you have conquer'd my yet maiden-bed,

Remain there but an houſe, nor ſpeak to me :

My reafons are moſt ftrong; and you ſhall know them,
When back again this Ring ſhall be deliver'd :

And on your finger in the night, I'll put

Another Ring, that which in time proceeds,

May token to the future, our paſt deeds.

Adieu till then, then fail not : you have wonne

A wife of me, though there my hope be done,

Be. A heaſn on earth I've won by wooing thee, Exi.

Dia. For which, live long to thank both heaſn and me.
You may ſo in the end.

My mother told me juſt how he would wooe,

As if the fate in's heart. She ſayes, all men

Have the like oathes : He had fworn to marry me

When his wife's dead : therefore I'll ie with him

When I am buried. Since French-men are ſo braide,

Marry that will, I'll live and die a Maid :

Onely in this diſguife, I think't no ſin,

To cozen him that would unjuſtly win.

Exi.

Enter the two French Captains, and some two or three
Soldiers.

Cap. G. You have not given him his mothers letter.

Cap. E. I have deliver'd it an houre ſince, there is
fomething in't that ſtings his nature : for on the reading
it, he chang'd almoſt into another man.

Cap. G. He has much worthy blame laid upon him,
for ſhaking off ſo good a wife, and ſo fwect a Lady.

Cap. E. Especially, he hath incurred the eventaſing
diſpleasure of the King, who had even tun'd his bounty
to ſing happineſſe to him. I will tell you a thing, but you
ſhall let it dwell darkly with you.

Cap. G. When you have ſpoken it, 'tis dead, and I
am the grave of it.

Cap. E. He hath perverted a young Gentlewoman
here in Florence, of a moſt chaſte renown, and this night
he flethes his will in the ſpoyle of her honour : he hath
given her his monumentall Ring, and thinks himſelf
made in the unchafe composition.

Cap. G. Now God delay our rebellion, as we are our
ſelves, what things are we,

Cap. E. Meerly our own traitors. And as in the
common course of all treafons, we ſtill fee them reveal
themſelves, till they atta in to their abhorr'd ends : ſo he
that in this action contrives againſt his own Nobility in
his proper ſtreame, o're-flows himſelf.

Cap. G. Is it not meant damnable in us, to be Trum-
peters of our unlawfull intents ? We ſhall not then have
his company to night ?

Cap. E. Not till after midnight : for he is dieted to his
houre.

Cap. G. That approaches apace : I would gladly have
him fee his company anathomiz'd, that he might take

All's well that ends well.

247

a measure of his own judgements, wherein so feriously
he had fet his counterfeit.

Cap. E. We will not meddle with him till he come;
for his prefence muſt be the whip of the other.

Cap. G. In the mean time, what hear you of thofe
Warres?

Cap. E. I hear there is an overture of peace.

Cap. G. Nay, I affure you a peace concluded.

Cap. E. What will Count Roffillion do then ? Will he
travell higher, or retrun again into France ?

Cap. G. I perceive by this demand, you are not alto-
gether of his counſell.

Cap. E. Let it be forbid, fir, so ſhould I be a great deal
of this act.

Cap. G. Sir, his wife ſome two months ſince fled
from his house, her pretence is a pilgrimage to Saint Ja-
ques le grand; which holy undertaking, with moſt au-
ſteer ſanctimony the accomplish'd: and there refiding,
the tenderneſs of her Nature, became as a prey to her grief:
in fine; made a groan of her laſt breath, and now ſhe
ſings in heaven.

Cap. E. How is this juſtified ?

Cap. G. The ſtronger part of it by her own Letters,
which makes her ſtory true, even to the point of her
death : her death it ſelſe, which could not be her office
to ſay, is come, was faithfully confirm'd by the Reſtor
of the place.

Cap. E. Hath the Count all this intelligence ?

Cap. G. I, and the particular confirmations, point
from point, to the full arming of the verity.

Cap. E. I am heartily ſorry that he'l be glad of this.

Cap. G. How mightily ſometimes, we make us com-
forts of our loſſes.

Cap. E. And how mightily ſome other times, we
drown our gain in tears, the great dignity that this valour
hath here requir'd for him, ſhall at home be ericountred
with a ſhame as ample.

Cap. G. The web of our life, is of a mingled yarne,
good and ill together: our vertues would be proud, if our
faults whipt them not, and our crimes would defpair if
they were not cheriſh'd by our vertues.

### Enter a Meſſenger.

How now ? Where's your maſter ?

Ser. He met the Duke in the ſtreet, fir, of whom he
hath taken a ſolemn leave : his Lordſhip will next morn-
ing for France. The Duke hath offered him Letters of
 commendations to the King.

Cap. E. They ſhall be no more then needfull ſhere, if
they were more then they can commend.

### Enter Count Roffillion.

Cap. G. They cannot be too ſweet for the Kings tart-
neſs, here's his Lordſhip now. How now my Lord, is't
not after midnight ?

Ber. I have to night diſpatch'd ſixteen buſineſſes, a
months length a piece, by an abſtraet of ſucceſſe: I have
congied with the Duke; done my adieu with his neareſt;
buried a wife; mourn'd for her; writ to my Lady mother,
I am returning; entertain'd my Convoy, and between
theſe main parcell of diſpatch, effected many nicer
needs: the laſt was the greatest, but that I have not end-
ed yet.

Cap. E. If the buſineſſe be of any difficulty, and this
morning your departure hence, it requires haſte of your

Lordiſhip.

Ber. I mean the buſineſſe is not ended, as ſearing to
hear of it hereafter: but ſhall we have this dialogue be-
tween the Foole and the Souldier. Come; bring forth
this counterfeit module; 'has deceived me, like a double-
meaning Propheſier.

Cap. E. Bring him ſorth, ha's fate i'th stocks all flight,
poor gallant knave.

Ber. No matter, his heels have defeſ'd it, in aſtirp-
ing his ſpurrs ſo long. How does he carry himſelf ?

Cap. G. I have told your Lordſhip already: The stocks
carry him. But to anſwer you 'as you would be under-
ſtood, he weeps like a wench that had ſhed her milk, he
hath confect himſelf to Morgan, whom he ſuppofes to be
a Friar, from the time of his remembrance to this very
inſant diſafter of his ſetting i'th stocks: and what think
you he hath confect ?

Ber. Nothing of me, ha's a ?

Cap. E. His conſeſſion is taken, and it ſhall be read to
his face, if your Lordſhip be in't, as I believe you are; you
muſt have the patience to hear it.

### Enter Parolles with his Interpreter.

Ber. A plague upon him, muſſeld; he can ſay nothing
of me: huſh.

Cap. G. Hoodman comes: Portutartaroffa.

Int. He calls for the tortures, what will you ſay with-
out em.

Par. I will conſeſſe what I know without conſtraint,
If ye pinch me like a Paſty, I can ſay no more.

Int. Boske Chimurcho.

Cap. Biblibindo chicuirmurco.

Int. You are a merciful General: Our General bids
you anſwer to what I ſhall ask you out of a Note.

Par. And truly, as I hope to live.

Int. First demand of him, how many horſe the Duke
is ſtrong. What ſay you to that ?

Par. Five or ſix thouſand, but very weak and unſer-
vivable: the troops are all ſcattered, and the Command-
ers very poor rogues, upon my reputation and credit, and
as I hope to live,

Int. Shall I fet down your anſwer ſo ?

Par. Do, I'le take the Sacrament on't, how and which
way you will: all's one to him.

Ber. What a paſt-faving ſlave is this ?

Cap. G. Y'are deceiv'd, my Lord, this Monſieur Pa-
volles the gallant militarſt, that was his own phraſe, that
had the whole theorick of war in the knot of his ſcarſe
and the præſtife in the chap of his dagger.

Cap. E. I will never truſt a man again, for keeping
his ſword clean, nor believe he can have every thing in
him, by wearing his apparell neatly.

Int. Well, that's ſet down.

Par. Five or ſix thouſand horſe I ſed, I will ſay true,
or thereabouts ſet down, for I'le ſpeak truth.

Cap. G. He's very near the truth in this.

Ber. But I con him no thanks for't in the nature he
delivers it.

Par. Poor rogues, I pray you ſay.

Int. Well, that's ſet down.

Par. I humbly thank you, fir, a truth's a truth, the
Rogues are marvailous poor.

Int. Demand of him of what ſtrength they are a foot.
What ſay you to that ?

Par. By my troth, fir, if I were to live this preſent
hour, I will tell true, Let me ſee, Spurio a hundred and
fifty,

All's well that ends well.

248

fifty, *Sebastian* so many, *Coramus* so many, *Jaques* so many: *Guiltier*, *Calmo*, *Lodowick*, and *Grattii*, two hundred each: Mine own Company, *Chitopher*, *Vaumond*, *Bentii*, two hundred fifty each: so that the minter file, rotten and found, upon my life amounts not to fifteen thousand pole, half of the which, dare not shake the snow from off their Caffocks, leapt they shake themselves to pieces.

*Ber.* What shall be done to him?

*Cap.* G. Nothing, but let him have thanks. Demand of him my conditions: and what credit I have with the Duke.

*Int.* Well, that's for down: you shall demand of him, whether one Captain Dumain be i'th Camp, a Frenchman: what his reputation is with the Duke, what his valour, honesty, and experience in wars: or whether he thinks it were not possible with well-weighting fums of gold to corrupt him to revolt: What say you to this? What do you know of it?

*Par.* I believe you let me answer to the particular of the intergatories. Demand them singly.

*Int.* Do you know Captain Dumain?

*Par.* I know him, a was a Botchers Prentice in Paris, from whence he was whipt for getting the Shrieks foole with childe, dumb innocent that could not fay him nay.

*Ber.* Nay, by your leave hold your hands, though I know his brains are forfeit to the next tile that falls.

*Inten.* Well, is this Captain in the Duke of Florence's campe?

*Par.* Upon my knowledge he is, and lowfie.

*Cap. G.* Nay look not so upon me: we shall hear of your Lord anon.

*Int.* What is his reputation with the Duke?

*Par.* The Duke knows him for no other, but a poor Officer of mine, and write to me the other day, to turn him out a'th band. I think I have his letter in my pocket.

*Int.* Marry, we'll search.

*Par.* In good fadnefs I do not know, either it is there, or it is upon a file with the Dukes other Letters, in my Tent.

*Int.* Here 'tis, here's a paper, shall I read it to you?

*Par.* I do not know if it be it or no.

*Ber.* Our Interpreter do's it well.

*Cap. G.* Excellently.

*Int.* Dian, the Count's a foole, and full of gold.

*Par.* That is not the Dukes letter fir: that is an advertisement to a proper maid in Florence, one *Diana*, to take heed of the allurement of one Count *Roffellion*, a foolish idle boy: but for all that very ruttish. I pray you fir put it up again.

*Int.* Nay, I'll read it firft by your favour.

*Par.* My meaning in't I protest was very honest in the behalfe of the maid: for I knew the young Count to be a dangerous and launcivious boy, who is a whale to Virginity, and devours up all the fry it finds.

*Ber.* Damnable! both-fides rogue.

*Int.* Let. When he swears oaths, bid him drop gold, and take it.

*After he scores, he never payes the score:*

*Half won is match well made, match and well make it,*
*He ne're payes after-debts, take it before,*

*And fay a fouldier (Diaw) told thee this:*

*Men are to mell with, boyes are not to kifs.*

*For count of this, the Count's a Foole I know it,*
*Who payes before, but not when he does owe it.*

*Thine as he vow'd to thee in thine ear,*

*Parolles.*

*Ber.* He shall be whipt through the Army with this rime in's forehead.

*Cap. E.* This is your devoted friend, fir, the manifold Linguift, and the army-potent fouldier.

*Ber.* I could endure any thing before, but a Cat, and he's a Cat to me.

*Int.* I perceive, fir, by the Generals looks, we shall be fain to hang you.

*Par.* My life, fir, in any cafe: Not that I am afraid to die, but that my offences being many, I would repent out the remainder of Nature. Let me live, fir, in a dungeon, i'th flocks, any where, so I may live.

*Int.* We'll fee what may be done, so you confefs freely: therefore once more to this Captain Dumain: you have anwer'd to his reputation with the Duke, and to his valour. What is his honesty?

*Par.* He will fteal, fir, an Egge out of a Cloifter: for rapes and ravishments he paralels Neffus. He profeffes not keeping of oaths, breaking em he is stronger then Hereules. He will lye, fir, with fuch volubility, that you would think truth were a foole: drunkennefs is his beft vertue, for he will be fwine-drunk, and in his fleep he does little harme, fave to his bed-cloathes about him: but they know his conditions, and lay him in ftraw. I have but little more to fay, fir, of his honesty, he ha's every thing that an honest man should not have: what an honest man should have, he has nothing.

*Cap. G.* I begin to love him for this.

*Ber.* For this defercion of thine honesty? A pox upon him for me, he's more and more a Cat.

*Int.* What say you to his expertneſs in war?

*Par.* Faith fir, ha's led the drum before the English Tragedians: to belie him I will not, and more of his fouldierhip I know not, except in that Countrey, he had the honour to be the Officer at a place there called *Mile-end*, to inſtruct for the doubling of ſiles. I would do the man what honour I can, but of this I am not certain.

*Cap. G.* He hath out-villain'd villany fo far, that the rarity redeems him.

*Ber.* A pox on him, he's a Cat ſtill.

*Int.* His qualities being at this poor price, I need not to ask you, if Gold will corrupt him to revolt.

*Par.* Sir, For a Cardecue he will fell the fee-fimple of his falvation, the inheritance of it, and cut th'intaile from all remainders, and a perpetuall ſucceſion for it perpetually.

*Int.* What's his Brother, the other Captain Dumain?

*Cap. E.* Why do's he ask him of me?

*Int.* What's he?

*Par.* E'n a Crow a'th fame neſt: not altogether fo great as the firſt in goodneſs, but greater, a great deal in evill. He excels his Brother for a Coward, yet his Brother is reputed one of the beſt that is. In a retreat he out-runnes any Lackey, marry in coming on, he ha's the Cramp.

*Int.* If your life be ſaved, will you undertake to betray the Florentine?

*Par.* I, and the Captain of his horſe Count Roffellion,

*Int.* I'll whifeper with the Generall, and know his pleaſure.

*Par.* I'le no more drumming, a plague of all drumms, only to ſeem to deferſe well, and to beguile the ſuppoſition.

All's well that ends well.

249

fition of that laf'civious young boy, the Count, have I un
into this danger : yet who would have suspected an am-
bufh where I was taken ?

Int. There is no remedy, fir, but you muſt die: the
Generall ſayes, you that have ſo traitorouſly discovered
the ſecrets of your army, and made ſuch peſtiferous re-
ports of men very nobly held, can ſerve the world for no
honest ſufe : therefore you muſt die. Come heads-man,
off with his head.

Par. O Lord, fir, let me live; or let me fee my death.

Int. That ſhall you, and take your leave of all your
friends :

So look about you, know you any here ?

Couz. Good morrow noble Captain.

Lo. E. God bleſs you Captain *Parolles*.

Cap. G. God fave you noble Captain.

Lo. E. Captain, what greeting will you to my Lord
Lafew ? I am for France.

Cap. G. Good Captain will you give me a Copy of
the fame fonnet you writ to *Diana* in behalfe of the Count
Reſſiliox, and I were not a very Coward, I'd compell it
of you, but fare you well.

Int. You are undone Captain all but your ſcarſe, that
has a knot on't yet.

Par. Who cannot be cruſh'd with a plot ?

Int. If you could ſinde out a Countrey where but wo-
men were that had received ſo much ſhame, you might
begin an impudent Nation. Fare ye well fir, I am for
France too, we ſhall ſpeak of you there.

Par. Yet am I thankfull: if my heart were great
'Twould burſt at this: Captain I'le be no more,
But I will eat, and drink, and ſleep as ſoft
As Captain ſhall. Simply the thing I am
Shall make me live: who knows himſelf a braggart
Let him fear this; for it will come to paff,
That every braggart ſhall be found an Aſs,
Ruſt ſword, coole bluſhes, and *Parolles* live
Saſeft in ſhame: being fooſ'd, by fooſ'ry thrive;
There's place and means for every man alive.
I'le after them.

Enter Hellen, Widdow, and Diana.

Hel. That you may well perceive I have not
wrong'd you,
One of the greatest in the Chriſtian world
Shall be my ſuty: 'tore whoſe throne 'tis needfull
Ere I can perfect mine intents, to kneele.
Time was I did him a defined office
Dear almost as his life, which gratitude
Through flinty Tartars boſome would peep forth,
And answer thanks. I duly am inform'd,
His grace is at *Mar ſellis*, to which place
We have convenient convoy: you muſt know
I am ſupſoſed dead, the Army breaking,
My husband hies him home, where heaven aiding,
And by the leave of my good Lord the King,
We'll be before our welcome.

Wid. Gentle Madam,

You never had a ſervant to whoſe truſt

Your buſineſs was more welcome.

Hel. Nor your Miftris

Ever a friend, whoſe thoughts more truly labour
To recompence your love: Doubt not but heaven
Hath brought me up to be your daughters dowre,
As it hath fated her to be my motive

And helſer to a husband. But O ſtrange ſen,
That can ſuch ſweet ſufe make of what they hate,
When ſawey tруſting of the coſin'd thoughts
Deſiles the pitchy night, ſo luſt doth play
With what it loaths; for that which is away,
But more of this hereafter: you *Diana*,
Under my poor inſtructions yet muſt ſuffer
Something in my behalfe.

Dia. Let death and honefty

Go with your impoſitions, I am yours
Upon your will to ſuffer.

Hel. Yet I pray you :

But with the word the time will bring on ſummer,
When Briars ſhall have leaves as well as thorns,
And be as ſweet as ſharp: we muſt away,

Our Wagon is prepar'd, and time revives us,

All's well that ends well, ſtill that fines the Crown ;

What ere the course, the end is the renown.

Exeunt.

Enter Clown, old Lady, and Lafew.

Laf. No, no, no, your ſon was mifled with a ſnipt
taffata fellow there, whoſe villanous ſaffron would have
made all the unbak'd and dowy youth of a nation in his
colour: your daughter-in-law had been alive at this hour,
and your ſon here at home, more advanc'd by the King,
then by that red-tail'd humble-Bee I ſpeak of.

Lad. I would I had not known him, it was the death of the moſt vertuous gentlewoman, that ever Nature had praſe for creating, If he had partaken of my fleſh and coſt me the deareſt groans of a mother, I could not have owed her a more rooted love.

Laf. 'Twas a good Lady, 'twas a good Lady. We may
pick a thouſand ſallets ere we light on ſuch another
herb.

Clo. Indeed, fir, ſhe was the ſweet Margerom of the
fallet, or rather the herb of grace.

Laf. They are not herbs you knave, they are nose-
hearbs.

Clo. I am no great Nebuchadneſzar, fir, I have not
much skill in grace.

La. Whether doſeth thou profefs thy ſelf, a knave or
a fooſe ?

Clo. A fooſe, fir, at a womans ſervice, and a knave at
a mans.

La. Your diſtinction.

Clo. I would cozen the man of his wife, and do his
ſervice.

La. So you were a knave at his ſervice indeed.

Clo. And I would give his wife my bauble, fir, to do her ſervice.

La. I will ſubſcribe for thee, thou art both knave and
fooſe.

Clo. At your ſervice.

La. No, no, no.

Clo. Why, fir, if I cannot ſerve you, I can ſerve as great
a prince as you are.

La. Whoſe that, a Frenchman?

Clo. Faith, fir, a has an English main, but his ſiſnony
is more hotter in France then here.

La. What Prince is that?

Clo. The black prince, fir, *alias* the prince of darkknifs,
*alias* the devi I?

La. Hold thee, there's my purſe, I give thee not this to
fuggeſt thee from thy Maſter thou talk't of, ſerve him
ſtill.

Clo.

All's well that ends well.

250

Clo. I am a woodland fellow, fir, that always loved a great fire, and the maifter I speak of ever keeps a good fire, but fire he is the Prince of the world, let his Nobility remain in's Court. I am for the house with the narrow gate, which I take to be too little for pompe to enter: some that humble themselves may, but the manly will be too chill and tender, and they'll be for the flowry way that leads to the broad gate, and the great fire.

La. Go thy wayes, I begin to be a weary of thee, and I tell thee so before, because I would not fall out with thee. Go thy wayes, let my horses be well look'd to, without any tricks.

Clo. If I put any tricks upon em, fir, they shall be Jades tricks, which are their own right by the law of Nature. Exit.

Laf. A threwd knave and an unhappy.

Lady. So a is. My Lord that's gone made himself much sport out of him, by his authority he remains here, which he thinks is a patent for his fawineffle, and indeed he has no pace, but he runs where he will.

Laf. I like him well, 'tis not amiffre: and I was about to tell you, since I heard of the good Ladies death, and that my Lord your fon was upon his return home. I moved the King my maifter to speak in the behalfe of my daughter, which in the minority of them both, his Majety out of a self gracious remembrance did first propofe; his Highneffe hath premis'd me to do it, and to ftop up the difpleasure he hath conceived against your fon, there is no fitter matter. How do's your Ladyship like it?

La. With very much content, my Lord, and I with it happily effected.

Laf. His Highneffe comes poft from Marselles, of as able a body as when he number'd thirty, a will be here to morrow, or I am deceiv'd by him that in such intelligence hath feldome fail'd.

La. It rejoyces me, that I hope I shall fee him ere I die. I have lettes that my fon will be here to night: I shall befeech your Lordship to remain with me: till they meet together.

Laf. Madam, I was thinking with what Manners I might fafely be admitted.

Lad. You need but plead your honourable privilege.

Laf. Lady, of that I have made a bold charter, but I thank my God, it holds yet.

Enter Clown.

Clo. O Madam, yonders my Lord your fon with a patch of velvet on's face, whether there be a fear under't or no, the Velvet knows, but 'tis a goodly patch of Velvet, his left cheek is a cheek of two pile and a half, but his right cheek is worn bare.

La. A fear nobly got:

Or a noble fear, is a good liv'ry of honour,
So belike is that.

Clo. But it is your carbinado'd face.

Laf. Let us go see

Your fon I pray you, I long to talk
With the young noble fouldier.

Clo. Faith there's a dozen of em, with delicate fine hats,
and moft courteous feathers, which bow the head, and
nod at every man.

Exeunt.

Actus Quintus.

Enter Hellen, Widdow, and Diana, with
two Attendants.

Hel. But this exceeding pofting day and night,
Muft wear your spirits low, we cannot help it.
But since you have made the dayes and nights as ones,
To wear your gentle limbs in my affairs,
Behold you do grow in my requitall,
As nothing can unroot you. In happy time,
Enter a Gentleman a ftranger.

This man may help me to his Majefties ear,

If he would ſpend his power. God gave you fir:

Gent. And you.

Hel. Sir, I have ſeen you in the Court of France,

Gent. I have been ſometimes there.

Hel. I do prefume, fir, that you are not false

From the report that goes upon your goodneſſe,
And therefore goaded with moſt ſharp occafions,
Which lay nice manners by, I put you to
The uſe of your own vertues, for the which
I ſhall continue thankfull.

Gent. What's your will?

Hel. That it will pleafe you

To give this poor petition to the King,

And aid me with that ſtore of power you have

To come into his prefence.

Gent. The Kings not here.

Hel. Not here fir?

Gent. Not indeed,

He hence remov'd laſt night, and with more haſte
Then is his uſe.

Wid. Lord, how we loose our pains.

Hel. All's well that ends well yet,

Though time ſeem ſo adverse, and means unfit:

I do beſeech you, whether is he gone ?

Gent. Marry as I take it to Reſſillion,

Whither I am going.

Hel. I do beſeech you fir,

Since you are like to fee the King before me,
Commend the paper to his gracious hand,

Which I prefume ſhall render you no blame,

But rather make you thank your pains for it;
I will come after you with what good ſpeed
Our means will make us means,

Gent. This I'le do for you.

Hel. And you shall finde your ſelf to be well thank'd
what e're falls more. We muſt to horſe again, Go, go,
provide,

Enter Clown, and Parables.

Par. Good M. Levatch give my Lord Laſew this let-
ter, I have ere now, fir, been better known to you, when
I have held familiarity with freſher cloathes : but I am
now, fir, muddied in fortunes mood, and ſmell ſomewhat
frong of her frong diſpleasure.

Clo. Truly, Fortunes diſpleasure is but fluttifh, if it
ſmell ſo strongly as thou speak'st of : I will henceforth
eat no Fifth of Fortunes butt'ring, Prethee, allow the wind.

Par. Nay you need not to ſtop your noſe, fir: I ſpeak
but a Metaphor.

Clo. Indeed, fir, if your Metaphor ſtink, I will ſtop my
noſe, or againſt any mans Metaphor, Prethee get thee fir-
ther.

All's well that ends well.

251

Par. Pray you, fir, deliver me this paper.

Clo. Foh, prethee stand away : a paper from fortunes close-to-floole, to give to a Nobleman. Look here he comes himself.

Enter Lafew.

Clo. Here is a purre of Fortunes, fir, or of Fortunes Cat, but not a Muscat; that ha's falne into the unclean fifth-pond of her displeasure, and as he fayes muddied withall. Pray you, fir, ufe the Carp as you may, for he looks like a poor decayed, ingenious, foolish, rascally knave. I do pitty his diftresse in my smiles of comfort, and leave him to your Lordship.

Par. My Lord, I am a man whom fortune hath cruelly scratched'd

Laf. And what would you have me to do? 'Tis too late to pare her nails now. Wherein have you played the knave with fortune that he should scratch you, who of her felf, is a good Lady, and would not have knaves thrive long under her? There's a Cardcase for you: Let the Juftices make you and fortune friends; I am for other buſinesſe.

Par. I beſeech your honour to heare me one ſingle word.

Laf. You beg a ſingle penny more: Come you shall ha't, fave your word.

Par. My name my good Lord, is Parolles.

Laf. You beg more then one word then. Cox my paſſion, give me your hand: How does your drum.

Par. O my good Lord, your were the firſt that found me.

Par. Was I inſooth? And I was the firſt that loft thee.

Laf. It lies in you, my Lord to bring me in ſome grace, for you did bring me out.

Laf. Out upon thee knave, doſſt thou put upon me at once both the office of God and the devill: one brings thee in grace, and the other brings thee out. The King's coming I know by his Trumpets. Sirrah, enquire further after me, I had talk of you laſt night; though you are a fool and a knave, you ſhall eat, go to, follow.

Par. I praisè God for you.

Flourish. Enter King, old Lady, Lafew, the two French Lords, with attendants.

Kin. Welof a Jewell, and our eſteem
Was made much poorer by it : but your ſon,
As mad in folly, lack'd the fence to know
Her eſtimation home.

Old La. 'Tis paſt, my Liege,
And I beſeech your Majety to make it
Naturall rebellion, done i'ch blade of youth,
When oyle and fire, too ſtrong for reafons force,
Ore-bears it and burns on.

King. My honour'd Lady,
I have forgiven and forgotten all,
Though my revenges were high bent upon him,
And watch'd the time to ſhoot.

Laf. This I muſt ſay,
But firſt I beg my pardon: the young Lord
Did to his Majety, his Mother, and his Lady,
Offence of mighty note; but to himſelf
The greatest wrong of all. He loft a wife,
Whoſe beauty did aſtoniſh the ſurvey
Of richeſt eyes: whoſe words all ears took captive,
Whoſe deep perſection, hearts that ſcorn'd to ſerve,

Humbly call'd Mitris.

Kin. Praſing what is loft,

Makes the remembrance dear. Well, call him hither,
We are reconcil'd, and the firſt view ſhall kill

All repetition: Let him not ask our pardon,
The nature of his great offence is dead,
And deeper then oblivion, we do bury
Th'incenſing relicks of it. Let him approach
A ſtranger, no offender; and inform him
So 'tis our will he ſhould

Gent. I ſhall my Liege.

King. What fayes he to your daughter,
Have you ſpoke?

Laf. All that he is, hath reference to your Highneſs.

Kin. Then ſhall we have a match. I have letters ſent me, that fet him high in fame.

Enter Count Bertram.

Laf. He looks well on't

Kin. I am not a day of ſeason,

For thou maſt fee a ſun-fhine, and a haile

In me at once: But to the brighteſt beams
Diftraſted clouds give way, ſo ſtand thou forth,
The time is fair again.

Ber. My high repented blames,

Dear Soveraigne, pardon me.

Kin. All is whole,

Not one word more of the conſumed time,

Let's take the inſtant by the forward top:

For we are old, and our quick'ſt decrees
Th'inaudible, and noifeſſe ſoot of time

Steals, ere we can effect them. You remember

The daughter of this Lord?

Ber. Admiringly, my Liege, at firſt

I ſtuck my choife upon her, ere my heart

Durfth make too bold a herald of my tongue:

Where the impreſſion of mine eye enſtring,

Contempt his ſcornfull Perſpective did lend me,

Which wrapt the line of every other favour,

Scorn'd a fair colour, or expreſſ it ſtoln,

Extended or contracted all proportions

To a moſt hideous object. Thence it came,

That ſhe whom all men prais'd, and whom my ſelf,
Since I have loft, have lov'd; was in mine eye
The duſt that did offend it.

Kin. Well excus'd:

That thou didst love her, ſtrikes ſome ſcores away

From the great compt: but love that comes too late,

Like a remorſeſull pardon flowingly carried

To the great fender, turns a ſowre offence,

Crying, that's good that's gone: our rafh ſaults

Make triall price of ſerious things we have,

Not knowing them, untill we know their grave.

Oſt our difpleaſures to our ſelves unjuſt,

Deliroy our friends, and after weep their duſt:

Our own love waking, cries to fee what's done,

While ſhamefull hate ſleeps out the afternoon.

Be this sweet Helens knell, and now forget her.

Send forth your amorous token for fair Mandlin,

The main confents are had, and here we'll ſlay

To fee our widdowers ſecond marriage day:

Which better then the firſt, O dear heaven bleſs,

Or, ere they meet in me, O Nature ceaſ.

Laf. Come on my ſon, in whom my houſes name
Must be diſeſted: give a favour from you
To Sparkle in the spirits of my daughter,

That

All's well that ends well.

253

 Doe not believe him. O behold this Ring,
 Whose high respect and rich validity
 Did lack a Parallell: yet for all that
 He gave it to a Commoner a'th Camp
 If I be one.
 Old La. He blufhes, and 'tis hit:
 Of fix preceding Anceftors, that Jemme
 Conferr'd by testament to th' sequent iflie
 Hath it been owed and worn. This is his wife,
 That Ring's a thonftand proofs.

Kin. Me thought you faid

You faw one here in Court could witneſſe it.

Dial. I did, my Lord, but loath am to produce

So bad an inftrument; his name's Parolles.

Laf. I faw the man to day, if man he be.

Kin. Find him, and bring him hither.

Rof. What of him?

He's quoted for a molt perſidious ſtave
With all the spots a'th world, text and deboilſt'd,
Whofe nature fickens : but to ſpeak a truth,
Am I, or that or this, for what he'll utter,
That will ſpeak any thing.

Kin. She hath that Ring of yours.

Rof. I think ſhe has; certain it is I lik'd her,

And boorded her i'th wanton way of youth:
She knew her diftance, and did angle of me,
Madding my eagerness with her reſtraint,
As all impediments in fancies courſe
Are movtives of more fancy, and in fine,
Her infuit comming with her modern grace,
Subeu'd me to her rate; ſhe got the Ring,
And I had that which any inferior might
At Market price have bought.

Dia. I muſt be patient :

You that have turn'd off a firſt ſo noble wife,
May juſtly diet me. I pray you yet,
(Since you lack virtue, I will loſe a husband)
Send for your Ring, I will return it home,
And give me mine again.

Rof. I have it not.

Kin. What Ring was yours, I pray you?

Dian. Sir, much like the fame upon your finger.

Kin. Know you this Ring, this Ring was his of late.

Dia. And this was it I gave him being a bed.

Kin. The ſtory then goes falſe, you threw it him

Out of a Cafement.

Dia. I have ſpoke the truth.

Enter Parolles.

Rof. My Lord, I doe confefſe the Ring was hers.

Kin. You boggle threſdwy, every feather ſtarts you :

Is this the man you ſpeak of ?

Dia. I, my Lord.

Kin. Tell me, firrah, but tell me true I charge you,

Not fearing the diſpleasure of your Maſter :
(Which on your juſt proceeding, I'll keep off)

By him, and by this woman here, what know you ?

Par. So pleafe your Majeſtly, my Maſter hath been an
honourable Gentleman. Tricks he hath had in him,
which Gentlemen have.

Kin. Come, come, to th' purpose: Did he love this
woman?

Par. Faith fir, he did love her, but how !

Kin. How I pray you ?

Par. He did love her, fir, as a Gent. loves a Woman.

Kin. How is that ?

Par. He lov'd her, fir, and lov'd her not.

Kin. As thou art a Knave and no Knave, what an

equivocal Companion is this ?

Par. I am a poor man, and at your Majeſtles com-
mand.

Laf. He's a good drumme, my Lord, but a naughty
Oratour.

Dia. Doe you know he promiſt me marriage ?

Par. Faith, I know more then I le ſpeak.

Kin. But wilt thou not ſpeak all thou know't ?

Par. Yes, ſo pleafe your Majeſtly: I did go between
them, as I faid, but more then that, he loved her ; for in-
deed he was mad for her, and talkt of Sathan, and of
Limbo, and of Furies, and I know not what: yet I was in
that credit with them at that time, that I knew of their
going to bed, and of other motions, as promiſing her
marriage, and things that would derive me ill will to
ſpeak of, therefore I will not ſpeak what I know.

Kin. Thou haſt ſpoken all already, unleſſe thou canſt
fay they are married, but thou art too fine in thy evidence,
Therefore ſtand afide. This Ring you fay was yours.

Dia. I, my good Lord,

Kin. Where did you buy it ? or who gave it you?

Dia. It was not given me, nor did not buy it.

Kin. Who lent it you ?

Dia. It was not lent me neither.

Kin. Where did you find it then ?

Dia. I found it not.

Kin. If it were yours by none of all theſe wayes,
How could you give it him ?

Dia. I never gave it him.

Laf. This woman's an eafie glove, my Lord, ſhe goes
off and on at pleafure.

Kin. This Ring was mine, I gave it his firſt wife.

Dia. It might be yours, or hers, for ought I know.

Kin. Take her away, I doe not like her now,

To prifon with her : and away with him,
Unleſſe thou tellſt me where thou hadſt this Ring,
Thou dieſt within this houre.

Dia. Ple never tell you.

Kin. Take her away.

Dia. Ple put in bail my Liege.

Kin. I think thee now ſome common Cuffomer,

Dia. By Jove if ever I knew man 'twas you.

Kin. Wherefore haſt thou acceſ'd him all this while?

Dia. Because he's guilty, and he is not guilty :

He knowes I am no Maid, and he'll ſwear to't:

Ple ſwear I am a Maid, and he knows not.

Great King, I am no trumpet, by my life,
I am either Maid, or else this old man's wife.

Kin. She do's abuse our eares, to prifon with her,

Dia. Good mother fetch my bayle. Stay, Royal fir,

The Jeweller that owes the Ring is ſent for,

And he ſhall furety me. But for this Lord,

Who hath abus'd me as he knowes himself,

Though yet he never heard me, here I quit him.

He knowes himself my bed he hath deſil'd,

And at that time he got his wife with child :

Dead though ſhe be, ſhe feels her young one kick :

So there's my riddle, one that's dead is quick,

And now behold the meaning.

Enter Hellen and Widow.

Kin. Is there no exorcift

Beguiles the true Office of mine eyes ?

Is't reall that I ſee ?

Hel. No, my good Lord,

Y

Tis

255

Twelfe-Night, Or what you will.

Actus Primus. Scena Prima.

Enter Orfino Duke of Illyria, Curio, and other Lords.

Duke.

F Mufick be the food of Love, play on,
Give me excefle of it : thaturfetting,
The appetite may ficken, and so die.
That firen agen, it had a dying fall :
Oft came o'remy ear, like the fweet found
That breathes upon a bank of Violets ;
Stealing, and giving Odour. Enough, no more,
Tis not fo fweet now, as it was before.

O fpi it of Love, how quick and frefh art thou,
That notwithstanding thy capacity,
Receiveth as the Sea. Nought enters there,
Of what validity, and pitch so e're,
But falls into abatement, and low price,
Even in a minute; so full of shapes is fancy,
That it alone is high fantastically.

Cur. Will you go hunt, my Lord ?

Du. What Curio ?

Cur. The Hart.

Du. Why fo I doe, the Nobleft that I have:
O when mine eyes did fee Olivia first,
Me thought the purg'd the ayre of peftience;
That infant was I tun'd into a Hart,
And my defures, like fell and cruell hounds,
Ere since purfue me. How now, what newes from him?
Enter Valentine.

Val. So please my Lord, I might not be admitted,
But from her hand-maid doe return this anfwer :
The Element it self, till feven yeares heat,
Shall not behold her face at ample view:
But like a Cloyftrefſe ſhe will vailed walke,
And water once a day her Chambers round
With eye-offending brine : all this to feafon
A brothers dead love, which ſhe would keep freſh
And laſting, in her ſad remembrance.

Du. O ſhe that hath a heart of this fine frame,
To pay this debt of love but to a brother,
How will ſhe love, when the rich golden ſhaſt
Hath kill'd the flock of all affections else
That live in her. When Liver, Brain, and Heart,
These ſoveraignt thrones, are all ſuppli'd and fill'd
Her fweet perfections with one ſelf fame king:
Away before me, to fweet beds of Flowers,
Love-thoughts lie rich, when canny'd with bowres.

Exeunt.

Scena Secunda.

Enter Viola a Captain, and Saylors.

Vio. What Countrey (Friends) is this ?

Cap. This is Illyria, Lady.

Vio. And what ſhould I doe in Illyria ?

My Brother he is in Elizium,
Perchance he is not drown'd : What think you, Sailors?
Cap. It is perchance that you your ſelf were fav'd.

Vio. O my poor Brother, and so perchance may he be.

Cap. True Madam, and to comfort you with chance.

Affure your ſelf, after our ship did split,
When you, and thofe poor number fav'd with you,
Hung on our droving boat : I faw your brother
Moft provident in perill, binde himſelf,
(Courage and hope both teaching him the practice.)

To a strong Maſſe, that liv'd upon the fea :
Where like Orion on the Dolphines back,
I faw him hold acquaintance with the waves,
So long as I could ſee.

Vio. For faying ſo, there's Gold :
Mine own eſcape unfoldeth to my hope,
Wherefore thy ſpeech ſerves for authority
The like of hum. Know'ſt thou this Countrey ?
Cap. I, Madam, well; for I was bred and born
Not three hours travell from this very place?

Vio. Who governs here ?

Cap. A noble Duke in nature, as in name.

Vio. What is his name ?

Cap. Orfino.

Vio. Orfino ! I have heard my Father name him.
He was a Batchellor then.

Cap. And ſo is now, or was ſo very late :
For but a moneth ago I went from hence,
And then 'twas freſh in murmure (as you know
What great ones doe, the leſſe will prattle of)
That he did ſeek the love of fair Olivia.

Vio. What's ſhe ?

Cap. A virtuous maid, the daughter of a Count,
That di'd ſome twelvemonths ſince, then leaving her
In the protection of his ſon, her brother,
Who ſhortly alſo di'd: for whose dear love
(They tay) he had ab Jur'd the fight
And company of men.

Vio. O that I ſerv'd that Lady,
And might not be delivered to the world

Y 2

Till

Twelfth Night, or What you will.

257

*And.* Ile fay a moneth longer. I am a fellow o’ the
ftrangeft mind i’th world: I delight in Masks and Re-
vells sometimes altogether.

*To.* Art thou good at these kick-shawfes, Knight ?

*And.* As any man in *Illyria*, whatsoever he be, under
the degree of my betters, and yet I will not compare with
an old man.

*To.* What is thy excellence in a galliard, knight ?

*And.* Faith, I can cut a caper.

*To.* And I can cut the Mutton to’t.

*And.* And I think I have the back-trick, dimply as
ftrong as any man in *Illyria*.

*To.* Wherefore are these things hid ? wherefore have
these gifts a Curtain before ’em ? are they like to take
duft, like Mitt is Mals picture ? Why doft thou not go
to Church in a Galliard, and come home in a Carrant ?
My very walk ſhould be a Jigge : I would not ſo much as
make water but in a Sink-a-pace : What doſt thou mean?
Is it a world to hide virtues in ? I did think by the excel-
lenſt confstitution of thy legge, it was ſom’d under the
ſtare of a Galliard.

*And.* I, *is* ftrong, and it does indifferent well in a
dam’d colour’d flocken. Shall we ſit about ſome Revels ?

*To.* What ſhall we doe elfe: were we not born under
*Tannus* ?

*And.* *Tannus* ? That’s fides and heart.

*To.* No fir, it is legges and highes : let me fee thee ca-
per. Ha, higher: ha, ha, excellent.

Exeunt.

## Scena Quarta.

*Enter Valentine, and Viola, in mans attire.*

*Val.* If the Duke continue these favours towards you
*Cefario*, you are like to be much advanc’d, he hath known
you but three dayes, and already you are no ſtranger.

*Vio.* You either fear his humour, or my negligence,
that you call in question the continuance of his love. Is
he inconſtant fir, in his favours ?

*Val.* No believe me.

*Enter Duke, Curio, and Attendants.*

*Vio.* I thank you: here comes the Count.

*Duk.* Who ſaw *Cefario* hoa ?

*Vio.* On your attendance, my Lord, here.

*Du.* Stand you a while aloof. *Cefario*,
Thou knowſt no leſſe, but all: I have unclap’d
To thee the Book even of my ſecret foul.
Therefore good youth, addreſſe thy gate unto her,
Be not deni’d accesse, ſtand at her doores,
And tell them, there thy fixed foot ſhall grow
Till thou have audience.

*Vio.* Sure, my Noble Lord,

If he be ſo abandon’d to her forrow
As it is ſpoke, the never will admit me.

*Du.* Be clamorous, and leap all civil bounds,
Rather then make unprofited return.

*Vio.* Say I doe ſpak with my Lord? what then ?

*Duk.* O then, unfold the paffion of my love,
Surprize her with difcourſe of my dear faith ;
It shall become thee well to act my woes:

She will attend it better in thy youth,
Then in a Nuntio’s of more grave affeſt.

*Vio.* I think not ſo, my Lord :

*Duk.* Dear Lad, believe it ;

For they ſhall yet belye thy happy yeares,
That ſay thou art a man : *Dianes* lip
Is not more ſmooth, and rubious : thy ſmall pipe
Is as the maidens organ, ſhill, and ſound,
And all is ſemblative a womans part.

I know thy confſtellation is right apt
For this affaire : ſome four or five attend him,
All if you will : for I my ſelf am beſt
When leaſt in company : proper well in this,
And thou ſhalt live as freely as thy Lord,
To call his fortunes thine.

*Vio.* Ile doe my beſt
To wooe your Lady : yet a barrefull ſtrife,
Who e’re I wooe, my ſelfe would be his wife.

Exeunt.

## Scena Quinta.

*Enter Maria, and Clown.*

*Mar.* Nay, either tell me where thou haſt bin, or I
will not open my lips ſo wide as a brſle may enter in
way of thy excufemy Lady will hang thee for thy abſence.

*Clo.* Let her hang me: he that is well hang’d in this
world, needs fear no colours.

*Ma.* Make that good.

*Clo.* He ſhall fee none to fear.

*Mar.* A good lenton anſwer: I can tell thee where
that faying was born, of I fear no colours,

*Clo.* Where good Miftreſſe *Mary* ?

*Mar.* In the warres, and that may you be bold to ſay
in your foolery.

*Clo.* Well, God give them wifedome that have it: and
thofe that are fooles, let them uſe their talents.

*Mar.* Yet you will be hang’d for being ſo long ab-
fent, or be turn’d away, is not that as good as a hanging
to you ?

*Clo.* Many a good hanging, prevents a bad marriage :
and for turning away, let ſummer hear it out.

*Mar.* You are refolite then ?

*Clo.* Not ſo neither, but I am reſolv’d on two points.

*Mar.* That if one break, the other will hold: or if
both break, your gaskins fall.

*Clo.* Apt in good faith, very apt : well, go thy way,
if Sir *Toby* would leave drinking, thou wert as witty a
piece of *Eves* fleſh, as any in *Illyria*.

*Mar.* Peace you rogue, no more o’ that: here comes
my Lady : make your excufe wifely, you were beſt.

*Enter Lady Olivia, with Malvolio.*

*Clo.* Wilt, and’t be thy will, put me into good fooling:
thofe wits that think they have thee, doe very oft prove
foofles : and I that am ſure I lack thee, may paffle for a
wife man. For what ſays *Quinapalus*, Better a witty
fool, then a foolſih wit. God bleſſe thee, Lady.

*Ol.* Take the fool away.

*Clo.* Doe you not hear ſellowes, take away the Lady.

*Ol.* Go too, y’are a dry fool : I’le no more of you, be-
fides you grow diſhoneſt.

*Clo.* Two faults, Madona, that drink and good counſel
will amend : for give the dry fool drink, then is the fool
not dry : bid the diſhoneſt man mend himself, if he mend,
he is no longer diſhoneſt; if he cannot, let the Botcher
mend him : any thing that’s mended, is but patch’d: vir-
tue that tranſſeffes, is but patcht with ſin, and ſin that
amends, is but patcht with virtue. If that this ſimple
Sillogifme will ſerve, ſo; if it will not, what remedy ?

As

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258

As there is no true Cuckold but calamity, so beauty's a flower; The Lady bad take away the fool, therefore I say again, take her away.

Ol. Si; I bad them take away you.

Clo. Milprifion in the highest degree. Lady, Cucul-
lus non facit monachum: that's as much to say, as I
wear not motley in my brain: good Madona, give me
leave to prove you a fool.

Ol. Can you do it ?

Clo. Dexteriously, good Madona.

Ol. Make your proof.

Clo. I must catechize you for it, Madona, Good my Mouse of virtue answër.

Ol. Weil fir, for want of other idlenleff, I'le bide your proof.

Clo. Good Madona, why moun'ft thou ?

Ol. Good fool, for my brothers death.

Clo. I think his foul is in hell, Madona.

Ol. I know his foul is in heaven, foolè.

Clo. The more fool you (Madona) to mourn for your Brothers foul, being in heaven. Take away the fool, Gentlemen.

Ol. What think you of this fool, Malvolio, doth he not mend?

Mal. Yes, and shall doe, till the pangs of death shake him: Infirmity that decays the wife, doth ever make the better fool.

Clo. God send you, fir, a speedy Infirmity, for the better increafing your folly : Sir Toby will be fworn that I am no Fox, but he will not pafs his word for two pence that you are no fool.

Ol. How fay you to that Malvolio ?

Mal. I marvell your Ladifhip takes delight in such a barren raſcall : I ſaw him put down the other day, with an ordinary fool, that has no more brains then a ſtone. Look you now, he's out of his gard already: unleſſe you laugh and minifier occasion to him, he is gag'd. I proteſt I take theſe Wife men, that crow ſo at theſe ſet kind of fooles, no better then the fooles Zanies.

Ol. O you are ſick of ſelf-love, Malvolio, and taſte with a diſtemper'd appetite. To be generous, guillemele, and of free diſpoſition, is to take theſe things for Bird-bolts, that you deem Cannon bullets: There is no ſlander in an allow'd fool, though he doe nothing but rail; nor no railing in a known diſcreet man, though he doe noth- thing but reprove.

Clo. Now Mercury induue thee with leaſing, for thou ſpeak't it well of fooles.

Enter Maria.

Mar. Madam, there is at the gate, a young Gentleman, much defireto ſpeak with you.

Ol. From the Count Orſino, is it ?

Ma. I know not (Madam) 'tis a fair young man, and well attended.

Ol. Who of my people hold him in delay ?

Ma. Sir Toby, Madam, your kinſman.

Ol. Fetch him off I pray you, he ſpeaks nothing but madman: Fie on him. Go you, Malvolio; if it be a ſuit from the Count, I am ſick, or not at home. What you will, to diſmife it. Exit Malvo.

Now you fee, fir, how your fooling growes old, and people diſlike it.

Clo. Thou haſt ſpoke for us (Madona) as if thy eldeſt fon ſhould be a fool: whose ſculſ, Jove cramble with brains, for here he comes. Enter Sir Toby.

One of thy kin has a moſt weak Pia-mater.

Ol. By mine honour halſe drunk. What is he at the gate, Couſin ?

To. A Gentleman.

Ol. A Gentleman ? What Gentleman ?

To. 'Tis a Gentleman here. A plague o' theſe pickle Herring: How now Sot.

Clo. Good Sir Toby.

Ol. Couſin, Couſin, how have you come ſo early by this Lethargy ?

Tob. Letchery, I defie Letchery : there's one at the gate.

Ol. I marry, what is he ?

To. Let him be the devil and he will, I care not: give me faith, fay I. Well, it's all one. Exit.

Ol. What's a drunken man like, fool ?

Clo. Like a drown'd man, a fool, and a mad man: One draught above heat makes him a foolè, the ſecond mads him, and a third drownés him.

Ol. Go thou and feek the Crowner, and let him fit o' my Coz: for he's in the third degree of drink: he's drown'd: go look after him.

Clo. He is but mad yet, Madona, and the fool ſhall look to the mad man.

Enter Malvolio.

Mal. Madam, yond young fellow ſweares he will ſpeak with you. I told him you were ſick, he takes on him to underſtand ſo much, and therefore comes to ſpeak with you. I told him you were aſleep, he feems to have a fore-knowledge of that too, and therefore comes to ſpeak with you. What is to be faid to him, Lady, he's ſortified againſt any denial.

Ol. Tell him, he ſhall not ſpeak with me.

Mal. Ha's been told ſo: and he ſayes he'll ſtand at your door like a ſheriffes poſt, and be the ſupporter to a bench, but he'll ſpeak with you.

Ol. What kind o' man is he ?

Mal. Why, of man-kind.

Ol. What manner of man ?

Mal. Of very ill manners: he'll ſpeak with you, will you, or no.

Ol. Of what perſonage and yeares is he ?

Mal. Not yet old enough for a man, nor young enough for a boy: as a ſquafh is before 'tis a peſcod, or a Codling when 'tis almost an Apple: 'Tis with him in ſtanding water, between boy and man. He is very well-favoured, and he ſpeaks very ſhrewiſhly: One would think his mothers milk were ſcarce out of him.

Old. Let him approach: Call in my Gentlewoman.

Mal. Gentlewoman, my Lady calls. Exit.

Enter Maria.

Ol. Give me your vail; come throw it o're my face,
We'll once more hear Orſino's Embaffie.

Enter Viola.

Vio. The honourable Lady of the house, which is the ?

Ol. Speak to me, I ſhall anſwer for her: your will.

Vio. Moſt radiant, exquifite, and unmatchable beauty. I pray you tell me if this be the Lady of the house, for I never ſaw her. I would be loath to caſt away my ſpeech: for befides that it is excellently well penn'd, I have taken great pains to con it. Good Beauties, let me ſuſtain no ſcorn; I am very comptible, even to the leaſt finifter ſuſage.

Ol. Whence came you, fir ?

Vio. I can ſay little more then I have ſludied, and that queſtion's out of my part. Good gentle one, give me modeſt allſurance, if you be the Lady of the house, that

I

259

I may proceed in speech.

Ol. Are you a Comedian ?

Vio. No, my profound heart: and yet (by the very phangs of malice, I swear) I am not that I play. Are you the Lady of the house ?

Ol. If I do not usurf my self, I am.

Vio. Most certain, if you are the, yo do usurf your self: for what is yours to beftow, is not yours to reſerve. But this is from my Commiffion: I will on with my speech in your praife, and then ſhew you the heart of my meſſage.

Ol. Come to what is important in't: I forgive you the praife.

Vio. Alas, I took great pains to ſtudy it, and 'tis Poeticall.

Ol. It is the more like to be feigned, I pray you keep it in. I heard you were ſawey at my gates, and allow'd your approach rather to wonder at you, then to hear you. If you be not mad, be gone: if you have reaſon, be brief: 'tis not that time of Moon with me, to make one in so skipping a dialogue.

Ou. Will you hayſt ſayle, fir, here lyes your way.

Vio. No good ſwabbler, I am to hull here a little longer. Some mollification for your Giant, ſweet Lady: tell me your mind, I am a meſſenger.

Ol. Sure you have ſome hideous matter to deliver, when the curſe of it is ſo fearfull. Speak your office.

Vio. It alone concerns your ear: I bring no overture of war, no taxation of homage; I hold the Olyſſe in my hand: my words are as full of peace as matter.

Ol. Yet you began rudely. What are you ?

What would you ?

Vio. The rudenſe that hath appear'd in me, have I learn'd from my entertainment. What I am, and what I would, are as ſecre as a maiden-head: to your ears, Divinity; to any others, prophanation.

Ol. Give us the place alone.

We will hear this divinity. Now fir, what is your text ?

Vio. Moſt sweet Lady.

Ol. A comfortable doctrine, and much may be ſaid of it. Where lyes your Text ?

Vio. In Orſino's boſome.

Ol. In his boſome ? In what chapter of his boſome ?

Vio. To anſwer by the method, in the firſt of his heart.

Ol. O, I have read it: it is hereſie. Have you no more to ſay ?

Vio. Good Madam, let me fee your face.

Ol. Have you any Commiffion from your Lord, to negotiate with your face: you are now out of your Text: but we will draw the Curtain, and ſhew you the picture. Look you, fir, ſuch a one I was this preſent: Is't not well done ?

Vio. Excellently done, if God did all.

Ol. 'Tis in grain, fir, 'twill endure winde and weathier.

Vio. 'Tis beauty truly blent, whoſe red and white, Natures own ſweer, and cunning hand laid on: Lady, you are the cruell ſt the alive, If you will lead theſe graces to the grave, And leave the world no copy.

Ol. O fir, I will not be ſo hard-hearted: I will give out divers ſcedues of my beauty. It ſhall be Inventoried and every particle and utenfile labell'd to my will: As, Item, two lips indifferent red, Item, two grey eyes, with lids to them: Item, one neck, one chin, and ſo forth. Were you ſent hither to praife me ?

Vio. I fee you what your are, you are too proud: But if you were the devil, you are fair: My Lord and Maſter loves you: O ſuch love Could be but recompenc'd, though you were crown'd The non-paril of beauty.

Ol. How does he love me ?

Vio. With adulations, fertill tears, With groans that thunder love, with ſighes of fire.

Ol. Your Lord do's know my mind, I cannot love him, Yet I ſuppofe him vertuous, know him noble, Of great eſtate, of fresh and ſtainleſſe youth; In voyces well divulg'd, free, learn'd, and valiant, And in dimenſion, and ſhape of nature, A gracious perſon, But yet I cannot love him: He might have took his anſwer long ago.

Vio. If I did love you in my maſters flame, With ſuch a ſuffring, ſuch a deadly life: In your deniall, I would find no ſence, I would not underſtand it.

Ol. Why, what would you doe ?

Vio. Make me a willow Cabine at your gate, And call upon my foul within the house, Write loyall Cantons of contemned love, And ſing them loud even in the dread of night: Hollow your name to the reverberate hills, And Make the babling Goſlip of the aire, Cry out, Olivia: O you ſhould not reſt Between the elements of aire, and earth, But you ſhould pitty me.

Ol. You might do much: What is your Parentage ?

Vio. Above my fortunes, yet my ſtate is well: I am a Gentleman.

Ol. Get you to your Lord: I cannot love him: let him ſend no more, Unleſſe (perchance) you come to me again, To tell me how he takes it; Fare you well: I thank you for your pains: ſpend this for me.

Vio. I am no-feed poſt, Lady; keep your purſe,

My Maſter, not my ſelf, lacks recompence. Love make his heart of flint, that you ſhall love. And let your fervour like my Maſters be, Plac'd in contempt: Farewell fair crueltie.

Ol. What is your Parentage ?

Above my fortunes, yet my ſtate is well: I am a Gentleman. I'le be ſworne thou art, Thy tongue, thy face, thy limbs, actions, and ſpirit, Do give thee three-fold blazon: not too faſt: poſſ, poſſ, Unleſſe the Maſter were the man. How now ? Even ſo quickly may one catch the plague ?

Methinks I feele this youth's perfections, With an inviſible, and ſubſtite ſealth To creep in at mine eyes. Well, let it be.

What hoa, Malvolio.

Enter Malvolio.

Mal. Here Madam, at your ſervice.

Ol. Run after that fame peevish Maſſenger, The Counts man: he left this Ring behind him, Would I, or not: tell him, I'le none of it. Defire him not to flatter with his Lord,

Nor hold him up with hopes, I am not for him: If that the youth will come this way to morrow, I'le give him reaſons for't by thee, Malvolio.

Mal. Madam, I will.

Ol. I: do I know not what, and fear to find Mine eye too great a flatterer for my mind:

Fate

260

Fate, then thy force, our selves we do not owe;
What is decreed, must be: and be this so.

Fins, *Actus primi*.

## *Actus Secundus: Scena Prima.*

### Enter Antonio, and Sebastian.

An. Will you fly no longer: nor will you not that I go with you?

Seb. By your patience, no: my stars shine darkly over me; the malignancy of my fate, might perhaps di-temper yours, therefore I shall crave of you your leave, that I may bear my evils alone. It were a bad recompence for your love, to lay any of them on you.

An. Let me yet know of you, whither you are bound.

Seb. No footh, fir, my determinate voyage is meer extravagancy. But I perceive in you so excellent a touch of modesty, that you will not extort from me, what I am willing to keep in: therefore it charges me in manners, the rather to express my self: you must know of me then, Antonio, my name is Sebastian (which I call'd *Rodo-rigo*) my father was that Sebastian of Messaline, whom I know you have heard of. He left behind him, my self, and a fitter, both born in one hour: if the Heavens had been pleas'd, would we had so ended. But you fir, alter'd that, for some hours before you took me from the breach of the sea, was my fitter drown'd.

An. Alas the day !

Seb. A Lady fir, though it was said the much resem-
bled me, was yet of many accounted beautiful; but though
I could not with such eftimable wonder over-far believe
that, yet thus far I will boldly publish her, she bore a
minde that envy could not but call fair: She is drown'd
already, fir, with salt water, though I seem to drown her
remembrance again with more.

Ant. Pardon me, fir, your bad entertainment.

Seb. O good Antonio, forgive me your trouble.

Ant. If you will not murther me for my love, let me be your servant.

Seb. If you will not undo what you have done, that is
kill him, whom you have recover'd, defire it not. Fare
ye well at once, my bofome, is full of kindneſs, and I am
yet ſo near the manners of my mother, that upon the leaſt
occasion more, mine eyes will tell tales of me: I am bound
to the Count *Orfino's* Court, farewell.

Exiſt.

An. The gentlenefs of all the gods go with thee:

I have made enemies in *Orfino's* Court,

Elle would I very shortly fee thee there:

But come what may, I do adore thee so,

That danger shall seem ſport, and I will go:

Exiſt.

## *Scena Secunda.*

### Enter Viola, and Malvolio, at several doors.

Mal. Were not you then now, with the Countefs *Olivia*?

Vio. Even now fir, on a moderate pace, I have fince
arriv'd but hither.

Mal. She returns this Ring to you (fir) you might
have faved me my pains, to have taken it away your
ſelf. She adds moreover, that you ſhould put your Lord

in a desperate afflurance, ſhe will none of him. And one
thing more, that you be never so hardy to come again in
his affairs, unless it be to report your Lords taking of
this: receive it so.

Vio. She took the Ring of me, I'le none of it.

Mal. Come, fir, you peevishly threw it to her: and
her Will is, it should be so return'd: If it be worth floo-
ing for: there it lies, in your eye: if not, be it his that
finds it.

Exit.

Vio. I left no Ring with her: what means this Lady?
Fortune forbid my out-fide have not charm'd her!

She made good view of me, indeed so much,

That ſure me thought her eyes had loft her tongue,
For she did ſpeak in flarts difſtractedly.

She loves me ſure, the cunning of her paffion

Invites me in this churlifl meſſenger:

None of my Lords Ring? Why, he ſent her none?

I am the man, if it be so as 'tis,

Poor Lady, ſhe were better love a dream.

Difguife, I fee thou art a wickedneſſe,

Wherein the pregnant enemy does much.

How eafe is it, for the proper falſe

In womens waxen hearts to ſet their formes:

Alas, our frailty is the caufe, not we,

For such as we are made, ifuch we be :

How will this fadge ? My Maſter loves her dearly,

And I (poor monſter) fond aſmuch on him:

And ſhe (miftaken) ſeems to doat on me:

What will become of this ? As I am a man,

My ſlate is deferate for my maſters love;

As I am woman (now alſo the day).

What thriftleſſe fighes ſhall poor *Olivia* breath?

O time, thou muſt untangle this, not I,

It is too hard a knot for me t'unty.

## *Scena Tertia.*

### Enter Sir Toby, and Sir Andrew.

Tob. Approach Sir Andrew: not to be a bed after
midnight, is to be up betimes, and *Diliculo* *ſurgere*, though
know it.

And Nay by my troth I know not : but I know, to
be up late, is to be up late.

To. A falſe conclusion: I hate it as an unfill'd Canne,
To be up after midnight, and to go to bed then is early:
fo that to go to bed after midnight, is to go to bed be-
times. Does not our lives conſift of the four Elements?

An. Faith fo they ſay, but I think it rather conſiſts
of eating and drinking.

To. Th'art a ſcholler, let us therefore eat and drink,
Marian I ſay, a floope of wine.

### Enter Clown.

An. Here comes the fool, ifaith.

Clo. How now my hearts: did you never fee the Pi-
cture of we three?

To. Welcome affe, now let's have a catch.

And. By my troth the fool has an excellent breaf. I
had rather then forty ſhillings I had ſuch a legge, and ſo
ſweet a breath to ſing, as the fool has. Infooth thou waſt
in very gracious fooling laſt night, when thou ſpok't of
*Pigrogromitus*, of the *Vapians* paffing the Equinoctiall of
*Queubus*: 'twas very good ifaith: I ſent thee fix pence
for

261

for thy Lemon, hadst it?

Clo. I did impetuosely thy gratillity: for Malvolio's nofe is no Whip-flock. My Lady has a white hand, and the Mermidons are no bottle ale houfes.

An. Excellent: Why this is the belt fooling, when all is done. Now a fong.

To. Come on, there is fix pence for you. Let's have a fong.

An. There's a teftrill of me too: if one knight give a--

Clo. Would you have a love-fong, or a fong of good life?

To. A love fong, a love fong.

An. I, I. I care not for good life.

Clown ſings.

O Miftris mine, where are you roming ?
O stay and hear, your true loves coming,
That can ſing both high and low.
Trip no further pretty sweeting.
Journeys end in lovers meeting.
Every wife mans ſon doth know.
Au. Excellent good, ifaith.
To. Good, good.
Clo. What is love, 'tis not hereafter,
Present mirth, hath present laughter :
What's to come, is still unfure,
In delay there lies no plenty,
Then come kijf me sweet and twenty :
Touth's a ſtuff will not endure.

Au. A mellifluous voyce, as I am true knight.

To. A contagious breath.

An. Very (weet, and contagious, ifaith,

To. To hear by the noſe, it is dulcet in contagion.

But ſhall we make the Welkin dance indeed? ſhall we rowze the night-Owle in a Catch, that will draw three fouls out of one Weaver? Shall we do that?

An. And you love me, let's doot: I am a dog at a Catch.

Clo. Byrlady fir, and fome dogs will catch well.

An. Moſt certain: Let our Catch be, *Thou Knave*.

Clo. Hold thy peace, thou Knave knight. I ſhall be conſtrain'd in't, to call thee Knave, Knight.

An. 'Tis not the first time I have conſtrained one to call me knave. Begin foole: it begins, *Hold thy peace.*

Clo. Shall I never begin if I hold my peace.

An. Good ifaith: Come begin.

Catch ſing.

Enter Maria.

Mar. What a catterwalling do you keep here? If my Lady have not call'd up her Stweard, Malvolio, and bid him turn you out of doors, never truſt me.

To. My Lady's a *Catayan*, we are politicians, Malvolio's a Peg-a-ramſie, and *Three merry men be we*. Am not I conſanguinous? Am not I of her bloud: tily vally. Lady? *There dwelt a man in Babylon, Lady, Lady.*

Clo. Behrew me, the knight's in admirable fooling.

An. I, he do's well enough if he be diſpos'd, and to do I too: he does it with a better grace, but I do it more naturall.

To. O twelf day of December.

Mar. For the love o'God peace.

Enter Malvolio.

Mal. My maſteis are you mad? Or what are you? Have you no wit, manners, nor honcſty, but to gabbie like Tinkers at this time of night? Do ye make an Ale-houſe of my Ladies houſe, that ye ſqueak out your Coziers Catches without any mitigation or remorſe of voyce? Is there no reſpect of place, perſons, nor time in you?

To. We did keep time fir in our Catches. Sneek up.

Mal. Sir Toby, I muſt be round with you. My Lady bad me tell you, that the harbours you as her kinfman, ſhe's nothing ally'd to your diforders. If you can ſeperate your feſt and your miſdemeanours, you are welcome to the houſe: if not, and it would pafe you to take leave of her, ſhe is very will ng to bid you farewell.

To. Farewell dear heart, ſince I muſt needs be gone.

Mar. Nay, good Sir Toby.

Clo. His eyes do ſhow his dayes are almost done.

Mal. Is't even to?

To. But I will never dye.

Clo. Sir Toby, there you lye.

Mal. This is much credit to you.

To. Shall I bid him go?

Clo. What and if you do?

To. Shall I bid him go, and ſpare not?

Clo. O no, no, no, no, you dare not.

To. Out o'tune fir, ye lye: Art any more then a Steward? Doſt thou think becauſe thou art vertuous, there ſhall be no more Cakes and Ale?

Clo. Yes by S. Anne, and Ginger ſhall be hot i'th mouth too.

To. Th'art i'th right. Go fir, rub your chain with crums. A ſlope of Wine Maria.

Mal. Miftris Mary, if you priz'd my Ladies favour at any thing more then contempt, you would not give means for this uncivil rule; ſhe ſhall know of it by this hand.

Exit.

Mar. Go ſhake your ears.

An. 'Twere as good a deed as to drink when a mans a hungry, to chalſling him the field, and then to break promite with him, and make a foole of him.

To. Doo't knight, I'le write thee a Challenge: or I'le deliver thy indignation to him by word of mouth.

Mar. Sweet Sir Toby, be patient for to night; Since the youth of the Counts was to day with my Lady, ſhe is much out of quiet. For Mounfieur Malvolio, let me alone with him: If I do not gull him into an ayword, and make him a common recreation, do not think I have wit enough to lye ſtraight in my bed: I know I can do it.

To. Poffeſs us, poffeſs us, tell us ſomething of him.

Mar. Marry fir, ſometimes he is a kind of a Puritan,

An. O, if I thought that, I'd beat him like a dog.

To. What for being a Puritan, thy exquifite reaſon, dear knight.

An. I have no exquifite reaſon for's, but I have reaſon good enough.

Mar. The dev'll a Puritan that he is, or any thing conſantly but a time pleaſer, an affection'd Aſs, that Cons State without book, and utters it by great ſwarths. The beſt perſwaded of himſelf: to ſo cram'd (as he thinks) with excellencies, that it is his ground of faith, that all that look on him, love him: and on that vice in him will my revenge find notable cauſe to work.

To. What wilt thou do?

Mar. I will drop in his way ſome obscure Epiſtles of love, wherein by the colour of his beard, the ſhape of his leg, the manner of his gate, the expreſſure of his eye, forehead, and complexion, he ſhall find himſelf moſt feelingly perſonated. I can write very like my Lady, your Nicce, on a ſorgotten matter we can hardly make diffiſtion of our hands.

To. Excellent, I ſmell a device.

An. I hav't in my noſe too.

To. He ſhall think by the Letters that thou wilt drop that

I welfe Night, or What you will.

263

Can abide the beating of so strong a paffion,
As love doth give my heart: no womans heart
So big, to hold so much, they lack retention.
Alas, their love may be call'd appetite:

No motion of the Liver, but the Pallat,
That suffer surfer, cloyment, and revolt;
But mine is all as hungry as the Sea,
And can diſeft as much, make no compare
Between that love a woman can bear me,
And that I owe Olivia.

Vio. I but I know.

Du. What doſt thou know ?

Vio. Too well what love women to men owe :

In faith they are as true of heart, as we.

My father had a daughter lov'd a man
As it might be perhaps, were I a woman
I ſhouſt your Lordſhip.

Dnk. And what's her hiftory ?

Vio. A blank, my Lord : ſhe never told her love,
But let concealment like a worme i'th bud

Feed on her damask cheek : ſhe pin'd in thought,

And with a green and yellow melancholly,

She fate like Patience on a Monument,

Smiling at grief. Was not this love indeed ?

We men may ſay more, ſwear more, but indeed

Our ſhews are more then will: for ſill we prove
Much in our vowes, but little in our love.

Du. But dy'd thy ſifter of her love, my boy ?

Vio. I am all the daughters of my Fathers houſe,

And all the brothers too, and yet I know not.

Sir, I ſhall I to this Lady ?

Du. I that's the Theam :

To her in haſte ? give her this Jewell: ſay,

My love can give no place, bide no denay.

Exeunt

## Scena Quinta.

Enter Sir Toby, Sir Andrew, and Fabian.

To. Come thy wayes, Signior Fabian.

Fab. Nay I'le come : if I loſe a ſcruple of this ſport, let me be boy'd to death with Melancholly.

To. Would it thou not be glad to have the niggardly
Raſcally ſheep-biter, come by ſome notable ſhame ?

Fa. I would exult man ; you know he brought me out
of favour with my Lady, about a Bear-baiting here.

To. To anger him we'll have the Bear again, and we will ſoole him black and blew, ſhall we not, Sir Andrew ?

An. And we do not, it is pitty of our lives.

Enter Maria.

To. Here comes the little villain : How now my Nettle
of India ?

Mar. Get ye all three into the box tree : Malvolio's
coming down this walk, he has been yonder i'the Sun
practifing behaviour to his own ſhadow this half hour:
obferve him for the love of Mockery : for I know this Let-
ter will make a contemplative Ideot of him. Cloſe in the
name of jeaſting, ye thou there: for here comes the Trowt,
that muſt be caught with tickling.
Exit.

Enter Malvolio.

Mal. 'Tis but Fortune, all is forume. Maria once
told me ſhe did affect me, and I have heard her ſelf come
thus near, that ſhould the ſancy, it ſhould be one of my
complexion. Besides ſhe uſes me with a more exalted

retpect, then any one else that follows her. What ſhould
I think on't?

To. Here's an over-weening rogue.

Fa. Oh peace: Contemplation makes a rare Turkey
Cock of him, how he jets under his advan'd plumes.

And. 'Slight, I could ſo beat the Rogue.

To. Peace I ſay.

Mal. To be Count Malvolio.

To. Ah Rogue.

Au. Piftoll him, piftoll him.

To. Peace, peace.

Mal. There is example for't: The Lady of the Stra-
chy, married the yeoman of the wardrobe.

An. Fye on him Jezabel.

Fa. O peace, now he's deeply in: look how imagina-
tion blows him.

Mal. Having been three months married to her, fit-
ting in my ſtate.

To. O for a ſtone-bow to hit him in the eye.

Mal. Calling my Officers about me, in my branch'd
Velvet gown: having come from a day bed, where I
have left Olivia ſleeping.

To. Fire and Brimſtone.

Fa. O peace, peace.

Mal. And then to have the humour of ſtate: and after
a demure travaile of regard: telling them I know my
place, as I would they ſhould do theirs: to ask for my
kinſman Toby.

To. Bolts and shackleſ.

Fa. Oh peace, peace, peace, now, now.

Mal. Seaven of my people with an obedient ſtart,
make out for him: I frown the while, and perchance
winde up my watch, or play with ſome rich Jewell: Toby
approaches; curſies there to me.

To. Shall this fellow live ?

Fa. Though our ſilence be drawn from us with cares,
yet peace.

Mal. I extend my hand to him thus: quenching my
familiar ſmile with an auſtere regard of control,

To. And do's not Toby take you a blow o'the lippes
then?

Mal. Saying, Colin Toby, my Fortunes having caſt
me on your Necce, give me this prerogative of ſpeech:

To. What, what?

Mal. You muſt amend your drunkneſſes.

To. Out ſeab.

Fab. Nay patience, or we break the finews of our
plot?

Mal. Befides you waſte the treaſure of your time,
with a ſooliſh knight.

And. That's me I warrant you:

Mal. One Sir Andrew.

And. I knew 'twas I, for many do call me ſoole.

Mal. What employment have we here ?

Fa. Now is the Woodcock near the gin.

To. Oh peace, and the ſpirit of humors intimate read-
ing aloud to him.

Mal. By my life this is my Ladies hand: theſe be her
very C's, her U's, and her T's, and thus makes ſhe her
great P's. It is in contempt to queſtion her hand.

And. Her C's, her U's, and her T's: why that ?

Mal. To the unknown beloved his, and my good Wifhes:
Her very Phraſes: By your leave wax, Soft, and the im-
preſſure her Lucrece, with which ſhe uſes to ſcal: 'tis my
Lady: To whom ſhould this be ?

Fab. This winſes him, Liver and all.

Mal.

265

Clo. Troth, fir, I can yield you none without words,
and words are grown fo falfe, I am loath to prove reaton
with them.

Vio. I warrant thou art a merry fellow, and car'ft for nothing.

Clo. Not fo, fir, I doe care for something : but in my
confidence, fir, I doe not care for you : if that be to care
for nothing, fir, I would it would make you invifible.

Vio. Art not thou the Lady Olivia's fool?

Clo. No indeed, fir, the Lady Olivia has no folly, the
will keep no fool, fir, till the be married, and fools are
as like husbands, as Pi'chers are to Herrings, the husband's
the bigger : I am indeed not her fool, but her corrupter of
words.

Vio. I saw thee late at the Count Orfino's.

Clo. Foolery, fir, does walk about the Orbe like the
Sun, it thines every where. I would be forry, fir, but the
Fool should be as oft with your Mafter, as with my Mi-
freffe : I think I saw my wifedome there.

Vio. Nay, and thou pafſe upon me, I'le no more with
thee. Hold there's expences for thee.

Clo. Nay, and thou pafſe upon me, I'le no more with
thee. Hold there's expences for thee.

Vio. By my troth, I'le tell thee, I am almost ſick for
one, though I would not have it grow on my chin. Is thy
Lady within?

Clo. Would not a pair of theſe have bred, fir?

Vio. Yes, being kept together, and put to uſe.

Clo. I would play Lord Pandarus of Phrygia, fir, to
bring a Crefrida to this Troyus.

Vio. I understand you, fir, tis well begg'd.

Clo. The matter I hope is not great, fir ; begging, but a
beggar : Crefrida was a beggar. My Lady is within, fir.
I will confer with them whence you come, who you are, and
what you would is out of my Welkin, I might ſay, Ele-
ment, but the word is over-worn.

Vio. This fellow is wife enough to play the fool,
And to do that well craves a kind of wit :

He muſt obſerve their mood on whom he jeſts,
The quality of perfons, and the time :

And like the Haggard, check at every Feather
That comes before my eye. This is a practice,
As full of labour as a Wife-mans Art :

For folly that he wifely ſhewes, is fit :

But wife mens folly faln, quite taint their wit.

Enter Sir Toby and Andrew.

To. Save you Gentleman,

Vio. And you fir.

And. Dieu von guard Mounfier.

Vio. Et vous auſt voſtre ſerviture.

And. I hope, fir, you are, and I am yours.

To. Will you encounter the houſe, my Neece is defi-
rous you should enter, if your trade be to her.

Vio. I am bound to your Neece, fir, I mean the is the
lift of my voyage.

To. Tafe your legges, fir, put them to motion.

Vio. My legges doe better understand me, fir, then I un-
dertand what you mean by bidding me tafe my legges.

To. I mean to go, fir, to enter.
Vio. I will anſwer you with gate and entrance, but we
are prevented.

Enter Olivia and Gentlewoman.

Moſt excellent accompliſh'd Lady, the heavens rain O-
dours on you.

And. That youth's a rare Courtier, rain Odours, well.

Vio. My matter hath no voyce, Lady, but to your own

moſt pregnant and vouchſafed care.

And. Odours, pregnant, and vouchſafed : I'le get 'em
all three ready.

Ol. Let the Garden door be flut, and leave me to my
hearing. Give me your hand, fir.

Vio. My duty, Madam, and moſt humble ſervice.

Ol. What is your name?

Vio. Cefario is your ſervants name, fair Princeſſe.

Ol. My ſervant, fir ? 'Twas never merry world,
Since lowly feigning was call'd complement :
Y are ſervant to the Count Orſino (youth.)

Vio. And he is yours, and his muſt needs be yours :
Your ſervants ſervant is your ſervant, Madam.

Olivia. For him, I think not on him: for his thoughts,
Would they were blanks rather then fill'd with me.

Vio. Madam, I come to whet your gentle thoughts
On his behalf.

Ol. O by your leave I pray you,
I bad you never ſpeak again of him ;
But would you undertake another ſuit ?
I had rather hear you, to ſolict that ,
Then Mufick from the ſpheares.

Vio. Dear Lady.

Ol. Give me leave, I beſeech you : I did ſend,
After the laſt enchantment you did hear,

A Ring in chace of you. So did I abufe.

My ſelf, my ſervant, and I fear me, you :

Under your hard construction muſt I ſit,

To force that on you in a ſhamefull cunning

Which you knew none of yours. What might you think?

Have you not fet mine honour at the ſtake,

And baited it with all th'unmuzled thoughts

That tyrannous heart can think ? to one of your receiving

Enough is ſhewn, a Cipreſſe, not a boſome,

Hides my poor heart : so let me hear you ſpeak.

Vio. I pitty you.

Ol. That's a degree to love.

Vio. No not a grice : for 'tis a vulgar proof

That very oft we pitty enemies.

Ol. Why then me thinks 'tis time to ſmife agen :
O world, how apt the poor are to be proud ?

If one should be a prey, how much better

To fall before the Lion, then the Wolfe ?

Clock strikes.

The clock upbraides me with the wafe of time.

Be not afraid good youth, I will not have you ;

And yet when wit and youth is come to harvect :

Your wife is like to reap a proper man :

There lies your way, due Weſt.

Vio. Then Weſtward hoe :

Grace and good diſpoſition attend your Ladifhip :
You'll nothing, Madam, to my Lord, by me :

Ol. Stay : I prethee tell me what thou think'ft of me?

Vio. That you doe think you are not what you are.

Ol. If I think ſo, I think the fame of you,

Vio. Then think you right : I am not what I am.

Ol. I would you were, as I would have you be.

Vio. Would it be better, Madam, then I am ?

I wifh it might, for now I am your ſoole.

Ol. O what a deal of ſcorn, looks beautiſtull ?

In the contempt and anger of his lip,

A murdrous guilt ſhewes not it ſelf more ſoon,

Then love that would ſeem hid : Loves night, is noon.

Cefario, by the Rofes of the Spring,

By maid-hood, honour, truth, and every thing,

I love thee ſo, that maugre all thy pride,

Z

NoF

Nor wit, nor reafon, can my-paffion hide :
Doe not extort thy reafons from this claue,
For that I wooe, thou therefore haſt no caule :
But rather reaſon thus, with reaſon fetter ;
Love ſough, is good ; but given unſought, is better.
Vio. By innocence I ſwear, and by my youth,
I have one heart, one boſome, and one truth,
And that no woman has, nor never none
Shall miſtris be of it, ſave I alone.
And to adieu, good Madam, never more,
Wilt I my Maſters teares to you deplore.

Ol. Yet come again : for thou perhaps may'ſt move
That heart, which now a chorres to like his love.

Exeunt.

## Scena Secunda.

And. No faith, I'le not ſtay a jot longer.

Tob. Thy reaſon dear venome, give thy reaſon.

Fab. You muſt needs yield your reaſon, Sir Andrew.

And. Marry I law your Neece doe more favours to the Counts Serving-man, than ever the beſtow'd upon me : I faw't i'th Orchard.

Tob. Did ſhe fee thee the while, old boy, tell me that?

And. As plain as I fee you now.

Fabi. This was a great argument of love in her toward you.

And. 'Slight ; will you make an Aſſe o' me ?

Fabi. I prove it legitimate, fir, upon the oathes of judgement, and reaſon.

Tob. And they have been grand Jury-men, ſince before Noah was a Sailor.

Fabi. She did ſhew favour to the youth in your fight,
onely to exaſperate you, to awake your dormouſe valour,
to put fire in your Heart, and brimſone in your Liver:
you ſhould then have accoſted her, and with ſome excel-
lent jeſts (fire-new from the mint) you ſhould have bang'd
the youth into dumbneſſe : this was look'd for at your
hand, and this was baulk't : the double gilt of this oppor-
tunity you let time waſh off, and you are now ſat'd into
the North of my Ladies opinion, where you will hang
like an Iſickle on a Dutchmans beard, unleſſe you doe re-
deem it by ſome laudable attempt, either of valour or
policy.

And. And't be any way, it muſt be with Valour, for Policy I hate : I had as lief be a Browniſh, as a Politician.

Tob. Why then build me thy fortunes upon the basi
of valour. Challenge me the Counts youth to fight with
him, hurt him in eleven places, my Neece ſhall take note
of it, and affure thy ſelf, there is no love-Broker in the
world, can more prevail in mens commendation with
women, than report of valour.

Fab. There is no way but this, Sir Andrew.

And. Will either of you bear me a challenge to him ?

To. Go write it in a martiall hand, be curl and brief :
it is no matter how witty, ſo it be eloquent, and full of
invention : taunt him with the licenſe of Ink : if thou
thou'ſt him ſome thrice, it ſhall not be amiffle, and as ma-
ny Lyes, as will lye in thy ſheet of paper, although the

ſheet were big enough for the bed of Ware in England,
fet 'em down, go about it. Let there be gall enough in
thy Ink, though thou write with a Gooſe-pen, no matter:
about it.

And. Where ſhall I find you ?

Tob. We'll call thee at the Cubiculo : Go.

Exit Sir Andrew.

Fab. This is a dear Manakin to you, Sir Toby.

Tob. I have been dear to him lad, ſome two thouſand
ſtrong, or ſo.

Pa. We ſhall have a rare Letter from him ; but you'll not deliver't.

Tob, Never truſt me then : and by all meanes ſirre
on the youth to an anſwer. I think Oxen and wain-rope
cannot hale them together. For Andrew, if he were open'd
and you find ſo much blood in his Liver, as will clog the
foot of a ſlea, I'le eat the reſt of th'anatomy.

Fab. And his oppoſite the youth beares in his yivage
no great preſage of cruelty.

Enter Maria.

Tob. Look where the youngeſt Wren of mine comes.

Mar. If you defure the ſpleen, and will laugh your
felves into flitches, follow me ; yond gull Malvolio is
turned Heathen, a very Renegatho ; for there is no chri-
tian that meanes to be fav'd by believing rightly, can
ever believe ſuch impoffible paſſages of groſſeneſſe. He's
in yellow stockings.

Tob. And croſſe garter'd ?

Mar. Moſt villanouſly : like a Pedant that keeps a
Schoole i'th Church : I have dogg'd him like his murthe-
rer. He does obey every point of the Letter that I dropt,
to betray him : He does ſmile his face into more lines,
then is in the neſw Mappe, with the augmentation of the
Indies : you have not been ſuch a thing as't is : I can hard-
ly forbear hurling things at him , I know my Lady will
ſtrike him : if ſhe does, he'll ſmile, and tak't for a great
favour.

Tob. Come bring us, bring us where he is.

Exeunt omnes.

## Scena Tertia.

Enter Sebaffian, and Anthonio.

Seb. I would not by my will have troubled you,
But ſince you make your pleafure of your pains,
I will no further chide you.

Anth. I could not ſtay behind you : my defire
(More ſharp then filed ſeel) did ſpurre me forth,
And not all love to fee you (though ſo much
As might have drawn one to a longer voyage)
Butjealousie, what might befall your travell,
Being skilleſſe in theſe paſts : which to a ſtranger,
Unguified, and unfriended, often prove
Rough, and unhofpitable. My willing love,
The rather by theſe arguments of fear
Sat forth in your purſuit.

Seb. My kind Anthonio,

I can no other anſwer make, but thanks :
This were my worth, as is my conſcience firm,

You

To, Which way is he in the name of fanècy ? If all the devils of hell be drawn in little, and Legion himself self poffeſt him, yet I'le ſpeak to him.

Fab. Here he is, here he is: how is't with you fir ?
How is't, wiew you man ?

Mal. Go off, I diſcard you : let me enjoy my private :
go off.

Mar. Lo, how hollow the fiend ſpeakes within him ;
did not I tell you ? Sir *Toby*, my Lady prayes you to
have a care of him.

Mal. Ah ha, does ſhe to ?

To. Go to, go to: peace, peace: we muſt deale gently with him: Let me alone. How doe you, *Malvolio* ? How is't with you ? What man, defie the devil: confider, he's an enemy to mankind.

Mal. Doe you know what you ſay ?

Mar. La you, and you ſpeak ill of the devil, how he
takes it at heart. Pray God he be not bewitch'd.

Fab. Carry his water to th' wife woman.

Mar. Marry and it ſhall be done to mortow morn-
ing if I live. My Lady would not looſe him for more
then I'le ſay.

Mal. How now Miftris ?

Mar. Oh, Lord.

To. Prethee hold thy peace, this is not the way: Doe
you not ſee you move him ?

Fa. No my gentlenefle, gently, gently: the Fiend is
rough, and will not be roughly us'd.

To. Why how now my hayock ? how doſt thou chuck?

Mal. Sir.

To. I biddy, come with me, What man, 'tis not for
gravity to play at cherry-pit with fathan. Hang him foul
Colliar.

Mar. Get him to ſay his prayers, good Sir *Toby*, get
him to pray.

Mal. My prayers Minx..

Mar. No I warrant you, he will not hear of godli-
neſſe.

Mal. Go hang your felves all: you are idle ſhallow
things, I am not of your element, you ſhall know more
hereafter.

*Exit.*

To. I'st poſſible ?

Fab. If this were plaid upon a ſtage now, I could con-
demn it as an unprofitable ſction.

To. His very genius hath taken the infection of the
device man.

Mar. Nay purſue him now, leaſt the device take ayr,
and taint.

Fa. Why we ſhall make him mad indeed.

Mar. The houſe will be the quieter.

To. Come, we'll have him in a darke room and bound.
My Neece is already in the belief that he's mad: we may
carry it thus for our pleafure, and his penance, till our ve-
ry paſttime tired out of breath, prompt us to have mercy
on him: at which time, we will bring the device to the bar,
and crown thee for a finder of madmen: but ſee, but ſee.

Enter Sir Andrew.

Fa. More matter for a May morning.

And. Here's the Challenge, read it: I warrant there's
vinegar and pepper in't.

Fab. Is't to ſawey ?

And. I, is't ? I warrant him: doe but read.

To. Give me.

Youth, whatſoever thou art, thou art but a ſcurvy fellow.

Fa. Good and valiant.

To. Wonder not, nor admire in thy mind why I doe

call thee ſo, for I will ſhow thee no reaſon for't.

(Law.)

Fa. A good note, that keeps you from the blow of the

To. *Thou comm'st to the Lady Olivia, and in my fight
she uſest thee kindly: but thou lyſt in thy throat, that is
not the matter I challenge thee for.*

Fa. Very brief, and to exceeding good ſense, leſſe.

To. I will way-lay thee going home, where if it be thy
chance to kill me..

Fa. Good.

To. *Thou killſt me like a rogue and a villain.*

Fa. Still you keep o' th' windy fide of the Law: good,

To. *Fare thee well, and God have mercy upon our ſouls.*
*He may have mercy upon mine, but my hope is better,
and to look to thy ſelf. Thy friend as thou uſest him, and
thy ſworn enemy, Andrew Ague-cheek.*

To. If this Letter move him not, his legges cannot:
I'le giv't him.

Mar. You may have very fit occasion for't: he is now
in ſome commerce with my Lady, and will by and by de-
part.

To. Go fir Andrew: ſcout me for him at the corner
of the Orchard like a bun-Baily: fo ſoon as ever thou
ſeet him, draw, and as thou draw'ſt ſwear horribly: for
it comes to paffe oft, that a terrible oath, with a ſwagging
ring accent ſharply twang'd oft, gives manhood approbation,
then ever proof it ſelf would have earned't
him. Away.

And. Nay let me alone for ſwearing.

*Exit.*

To. Now will not I deliver this Letter: for the behavi-
our of the young Gentleman, gives him out to be of good
capacity, and breeding: his employment between his
Lord and my Neece, confirms no leſſe. Therefore, this
Letter being ſo excellently ignorant, will breed no ter-
our in the youth: he will find that it comes from a
Clodde-pole. But fir, I will deliver his challenge by
word of mouth; ſet upon Ague-cheek a notable report of
valour, and drive the Gentleman (as I know his youth will
aptly receive it) into a moſt hideous opinion of his rage,
skill, ſury, and impetuofity. This will be fright them both,
that they will kill one another by the look, like Cockatri-
ces.

Enter Olivia, and Viola.

F. Here he comes with your Neece, give them way
till he take leave, and prefently after him.

To. I will meditate the while upon ſome horrid me-
fage for a Challenge.

*Exeunt.*

Ol. I have ſaid too much unto a heart of ſtone,
And laid mine honour too unchary on't:
There's ſomething in me that reproves my fault:
But ſuch a head-ſtrong potent fault it is:
That it but mocks reproof.

Vio. With the fame haviour that your paffion beares,
Goes on my Maſter's griefs.

Ol. Here, wear this Jewell for me,'tis my picture:
Refuse it not, it hath no tongue to vex you:
And I believech you come again to morrow.
What ſhall you aske of me that I'le deny,
That (honour fav'd) may upon asking give.

Vio. Nothing but this, your true love for my Maſter.

Ol. How with mine honour may I give him that,
Which I have given to you ?

Vio. I will acquit you.

Ol. Well, come again to morrow: fare-thee-well,
A Fiend like thee might bear my foul to hell.

*Exit.*

Enter Toby, and Fabian.

To. Gentleman, God fave thee.

Vio-

269

*Vio.* And you, fir.

*To.* That defence thou haſt, betake thee to't: of what nature the wrongs are thou haſt done him, I know not: but thy interceptor full of despight, bloody as the Hunter, attends thee at the Orchard end: diſmount thy Tuck, be vare in thy preparation, for thy affaillant is quick, skillful, and deadly.

*Vio.* You miſtake, fir, I am ſure, no man hath any quarrell to me: my remembrance is very free and clear from any image of offence done to any man.

*To.* You'll find it otherwize I aſſure you: therefore, if you hold your life at any price, betake you to your guard: for your oppoſite hath in him, what youth, ſtrength, skill, and wrath can furniſh a man withal.

*Vio.* I pray you, fir, what is he ?

*To.* He is knight dubb'd with unhatch'd Rapier, and on carpet consideration, but he is a devil in private brawl; foules and bodies hath he divorc'd three, and his incenſent at this moment is ſo implacable, that ſatistaction can be none, but by pangs of death and ſepulcher: Hob, nob, is his word: giv't or tak't.

*Vio.* I will return again into the house, and desire ſome ſcendt of the Lady. I am no ſigner, I have heard of ſome kind of men, that put quarrells purpofely on others, to taſte their valour: belike this is a man of that quirk.

*To.* Sir, no, his indignation derives it ſelf out of a very compotent injury, therefore get you on, and give his defire. Back you ſhall not to the house, unleſſe you undertake that with me, which with as much ſafetey you might anſwer him: therefore on, or ſtrip your ſword ſtark naked: for meddle you muſt, that's certain, or for-ſwear to wear iron about you.

*Vio.* This is as uncivil as ſtrange. I beſeech you you doe me this courteous office, as to know of the Knight what my offence to him is: it is ſomething of my negligence, nothing of my purpofe.

*To.* I will do ſo. Signior Fabian, ſtay you by this Gentleman till my return. Exit Toby.

*Vio.* Pray you fir, doe you know of this matter ?

*Fab.* I know the Knight is incens'd againſt you, even to a mortall arbitrement, but nothing of the circumstance more.

*Vio.* I beſeech you, what manner of man is he ?

*Fab.* Nothing of that wonderfull promife to read him by his form, as you are like to find him in the proof of his valour. He is indeed, fir, the moſt skilſull, bloody, and fatall oppoſite that you could poſſibly have found in any part of Iſllyria: will you walk towards him, I will make your peace with him, if I can.

*Vio.* I ſhall be much bound to you for't: I am one, that had rather go with fir Prieſt, then fir Knight: I care not who knowes ſo much of my mettle. Exeunt.

Enter Toby, and Andrew.

*Tob.* Why man, he's a very devil, I have not ſeen ſuch a ſirago: I had a pafſe with him, rapier, ſcabberd, and all: and he gives me the ſtuck in with ſuch a mortall motion that it is inevitable: and on the anſwer, he payes you as ſurely, as your feet hits the ground they ſtep on. They ſay, he has been Fencer to the Sophy.

*And.* Pox on't, I'le not meddle with him.

*To.* I, but he will not now be pacified, Fabian can ſcarse hold him yonder.

*Am.* Plague on't, and I thought he had been valiant, and ſo cunning in Fence, I'de have ſeen him damn'd ere I'de have challeſſ'd him. Let him let the matter ſlip, and

I'le give him my horſe, gray Capulet.

*Tob.* I'le make the motion: ſtand here, make a good ſhew on't, this ſhall end without the perſidion of ſoules, marry I'le ride your horſe as well as I ride you.

Enter Fabian, and Viola.

I have his horſe to take up the quarrell, I have perſwaded him the youth's a devil.

*Fab.* He is as horribly conceited of him: and pants, and looks pale, as if a Bear were at his heeleſ.

*To.* There's no remedy, fir, he will fight with you for's oath ſake: marry he hath better bethought him of his quarrell, and he finds that now ſcarse to be worth talking of: therefore draw for the ſupportance of his vow, he proſteſts he will not hurt you.

*Vio.* Pray God defend me: a little thing would make me tell them how much I lack of a man.

*Fab.* Give ground if you fee him ſious.

*To.* Come, Sir Andrew, there's no remedy, the Gentleman will for his honours ſake have one bout with you: he cannot by the Duello avoid it: but he has promıſed me, as he is a Gentleman and a Souldier, he will not hurt you. Come on, to't.

*And.* Pray God he keep his oath.

Enter Antonio.

*Vio.* I doe aſſure you 'tis againſt my will.

*Ant.* Put up your ſword: if this young Gentleman have done offence, I take the fault on me: If you offend him, I for him deſe you.

*Tob.* You fir ? Why, what are you ?

*Ant.* One fir, that for his love dares yet doe more Then you have heard him brag to you he will.

*Tob.* Nay, if you be an undertaker, I am for you.

Enter Officers.

*Fab.* O good Sir Toby, hold: here come the Officers.

*Tob.* I'le be with you anon.

*Vio.* Pray fir, put your ſword up if you pleafe.

*And.* Marry will I fir: and for that I promiſ'd you I'le be as good as my word. He will bear you caseſily, and raines well.

1. Off. This is the man, doe thy Office.

2. Off. *Anthony, I arreſt thee at the ſuit of Count Or-.*
*Ant.* You doe miſtake me, fir. (fino.)

1. Off. No fir, no jot: I know your favour well: Though now you have no ſea-cap on your head: Take him away, he knowes I know him well.

*Ant.* I muſt obey. This comes with feehing you: But there's no remedy, I ſhall anſwer it:

What will you doe ? now my neceſſity

Makes me to aske you for my purſe. It grieves me

Much more, for what I cannot do for you,

Then what befalls my ſelf: you ſtand amaz'd,

Be of comfort.

2. Off. Come, fir, away.

*Ant.* I muſt entreat of you ſome of that money.

*Vio.* What money, fir ?

For the fair kindneſſe you have ſhew'd me here, And part being prompted by your prefent trouble, Out of my lean and low ability

I'le lend you ſomething: my having is not much, I'le make divifion of my prefent with you: Hold, there's half my Coſer.

*Ant.* Will you deny me now ? Is't poſſible, that my deferts to you

Can lacke perſwafion ? Doe not tempt my miſery,

Leaſt that it make me ſo unſound a man, As to upbraid you with those kindneſſes

Z 3

That

Twelfe Night, or What you will.

272

Yet 'tis not madneſſe. Where's *Anthony* then ?
I could not find him at the Elephant,
Yet there it was, and there I found this credit,
That he did range the Town to ſee me out,
His ſcountell now might do me golden ſervice,
For though my ſoule dispuſes well with my ſenſe,
That this may be ſome error, but no madneſſe,
Yet doth this accident and ſloud of Fortune,
So far exceed all inſtance, all diſcourſe,
That I am ready to diſtruſt mine eyes,
And wrangle with my reaſon that perſwades me
To any other truſt, but that I am mad,
Or else the Ladies mad ; yet if 'twere so,
She could not ſway her houſe, command her followers,
Take, and give back affairs, and their diſpatch,
With ſuch a ſmooth, diſcreet, and ſtable-bearing
As I perceive the do's: there's ſomething in't
That is deceiveable. But here the Lady comes.

*Enter Olivia, and Priest.*

Ol. Blame not this haſte of mine : if you mean well
Now go with me, and with this holy man
Into the Chantry by : there before him,
And underneath that conſecrated roofe,
Plight me the full affurance of your faith,
That my moſt jealous, and too doubtfull ſoule
May live at Peace. He ſhall conceale it,
Whiles you are willing it ſhall come to note,
What time we will our celebration keep
According to my birth, what do you ſay ?

Seb. I'le follow this good man, and go with you,
And having ſworn truth, ever will be true.

Ol. Then lead the way good father, & heaven ſo ſhine,
That they may fairly note this act of mine.

Exeunt.

*Fins Alts Quarti.*

*Enter Clown and Fabian.*

Fab. Now as thou lov'ſt me, let me ſee this Letter.

Clo. Good M. Fabian grant me another requeſt.

Fab. Any thing.

Clo. Do not deſire to ſee this Letter.

Fab. This is to give a Dog, and in recompence deſire
my dog again.

*Enter Duke, Viola, Curio, and Lords.*

Du. Belong you to the Lady *Olivia*, friends?

Clo. I fir, we are ſome of her trappings.

Duke. I know thee well : how doſt thou my good
Fellow ?

Clo. Truly fir, the better for my foes, and the worſe
for my friends.

Du. Juit the contrary : the better for thy friends.

Clow. No fir, the worſe.

Du. How can that be?

Clo. Marry fir, they praſe me, and make an Aſs of me,
now my foes tell me plainly, I am an Aſſe: ſo that by my
foes fir, I profit in the knowledge of my ſelf, and by my
friends I am abuſed: ſo that concluſions to be as kiffes, if
your four negatives make your two affirmativeſ, why
then the worſe of my friends, and the better for my foes.

Du. Why this is excellent.

Clo. By my troth fir, no : though it pleafe you to be
one of my friends.

Du. Thou haf't not be the worſe for me, there's gold.

Clo. But that would be double dealing fir, I would
you could make it another.

Du. O you give me ill counſell.

Clo. Put your Grace in your pocket fir, for this once,
and let your fleſh and bloud obey it.

Du. Well, I will be ſo much a ſinner to be a double
dealer : there's another.

Clo. Primo, ſecundo, tertio, is a good play, and the
old ſaying is, the third Payes for all: the triplex fir, is a
good tripping meaſure, or the bells of S. Bennet fir, may
put you in minde, one, two, three.

Du. You can ſoole no more money out of me at this
throw : if you will let your Lady know I am here to
ſpeak with her, and bring her along with you, it may
awake my bounty further.

Clo. Marry fir, lullaby to your bounty till I come agen.
I go fir, but I would not have you to think, that my de-
ſire of having is the fin of covetouſneſs: but as you ſay fir,
let your bounty take a nap, I will awake it anon. Exit.

*Enter Anthonio and Officers.*

Vio. Here comes the man fir, that did rescue me.

Du. That face of his I do remember well,
Yet when I ſaw it laſt, it was befearnd
As black as Vulcan, in the ſmoak of War :
A bawling Veffell was the Captain of,
For ſhallow draught and Bulk unprizable,
With which ſuch feathfull grapple did he make,
With the moſt noble bottome of our Fleer,
That very envy, and the tongue of loffe
Cri'd fame and honour on him: What's the matter?

1. Offi. Orſino, this is that *Anthony*

That took the *Phoenix*, and her fraught from *Candy*,
And this is he that did the *Tiger* boord,
When your young Nephew *Titus* loft his leg :
Here in the ſtrectes, desperate of ſhame and ſtate,
In private brabble did we apprehend him.

Vio. He did me kindneſſe fir, drew on my ſide,
But in conclusion put ſtrange ſpeech upon me,
I know not what 'twas, but diſtraſſion.

Du. Notable Pyrate, thou salt-water Thief,
What fooliſh boldneſs brought thee to their mercies,
Whom thou in termes ſo bloudy, and ſo dear
Haſt made thine enemies?

Ant. Orſino : Noble fir,
Be pleas'd that I ſhake of theſe names you give me :
*Anthony* never yet was Thief, or Pyrate,
Though I confes, on bafe and ground enough
*Orſino*'s enemy. A witchcraft drew me hither :
That moſt ingratefull Boy there by your ſide,
From the rude ſeas inrag'd and foamy mouth
Did I redeem : a wrack paſt hope he was:
His life I gave him, and did there to adde
My love without retention, or reſtraint,
All this is dedication. For his ſake,
Did I expoſe my ſelf (pure of his love)
Into the danger of this adverſe Town,
Drew to defend him, when he was beſer :
Where being apprehended, his ſalſe cunning
(Not meaning to pertake with me in danger)
Taught him to face me out of his acquaintance,

And

273

And grew a twenty years removed thing,
While one would wink : den i' mine own purse,
Which I had recommended to his ufe,
Not half an houre before.

Vio. How can this be ?

Du. When came he to this Town ?

Ant. To day my Lord : and for three months before,
No interim, not a minutes vacancie,
Both day and night did we keep company.

Enter Olivia, and attendants.

Du. Here comes the Countefs, now heaven walks on
earth :

But for thee, fellow ; fellow, thy words are madneſs,
Three months this youth hath tended upon me,
But more of that anon. Take him alſide.

Ol. What would my Lord, but that he may not have,
Wherein Olivia may feem serviceable ?

Cefario, you do not keep promise with me.

Vio. Madam.

Du. Gracious Olivia.

Ol. What do you ſay Cefario ? Good my Lord.

Vio. My Lord would ſpeak, my duty huffes me.

Ol. If it be ought to the old tune my Lord,

It is as fat and fulſome to mine ear

As howling after Mufick.

Du. Still ſo cruell ?

Ol. Still ſo conſtant my Lord.

Du. What to perverſenefs ? you uncivill Lady
To whoſe ingrate, and unaufpicious Altars
My ſoul the faithfull ſt offerings have breath'd out
That ere devotion tender'd. What ſhall I do?

Ol. Even what it pleaſe my Lord, that ſhall become him.

Du. Why ſhould I not, (had I the heart to do it)

Like to the Egyptian Thieſt, at point of death

Kill what I love : ( a ſavage jealousy,

That ſometime favours nobly) but hear me this:

Since you to none regardance caſt my faith,
And that I partly know the inſtrument

That ſcrews me from my true place in your favour :

Live you the Marble-breasted Tyrant ſtill.

But this your Minion, whom I know you love,
And whom, by heaven I ſwear, I tender dearly,
Him will I tear out of that cruell eye,
Where he ſits crowned in his Maſters ſpight.

Come Boy with me, my thoughts are ripe in miſchief :

I'le ſacrifice the Lambe that I do love,

To ſpight a Ravens heart within a Dove.

Vio. And I moſt joond, apt, and willingly,
To do you reſt, a thouſauſt deaths would die.

Ol. Where goes Cefario ?

Vio. After him I love,

More then I love theſe eyes, more then my life,

More by all mores, then ere I ſhall love wife.

If I do ſeigne, you witneſſes above

Punish my life, for tainting of my Love.

Ol. Aye me dereſted, how am I beguil'd ?

Vio. Who do's beguile you ? who do's do you wrong ?

Ol. Haſt thou forgot thy ſelf ? Is it ſo long ?

Call forth the holy Father.

Du. Come, away.

Vio. Whither my Lord ? Cefario, Husband, ſlay.

Du. Husband ?

Ol. I Husband. Can he that deny ?

Du. Her husband firrah ?

Vio. No my Lord, not I.

Ol. Alas, it is the baſenefs of thy fear,

That makes thee ſtrangle thy propriety :
Fear not Cefario, take thy fortunes up,
Be that thou know'ſt thou art, and then thou art
As great as thou fear'ſt.

Enter Priest.

O welcome Father :

Father, I charge thee by thy reverence

Here to unfold, though lately we intended

To keep in darkneſſe, what occasion now

Reveals before 'tis ripe: what thou do'ſt know
Hath newly palt, between this youth, and me.

Priest. A contract of eternall bond of love,

Confirm'd by mutuall joynder of your hands,

Atteſted by the holy cloſe of lips,

Strengthned by enteſchangement of your Rings,

And all the Ceremony of this compaſt

Seal'd in my function, by my teſtimony :

Since when, my watch hath told me, toward my grave
I have travell'd but two hours.

Du. O thou diſſembling Cub : what wilt thou be

When time hath fow'd a grizzlè on thy caſe ?

Or will not eſſe thy craft ſo quickly grow,

That thine own trip ſhall be thine overthrow ?

Farewell, and take her, but direct thy feet,

Where thou, and (I henceforth) may never meet.

Vio. My Lord, I do proteſt.

Ol. O do not ſwear,

How little faith, though thou haſt too much fear.

Enter Sir Andrew.

And. For the love of God a Surgeon, and one pre-
ferent to Sir Toby.

Ol. What's the matter ?

And. H'as broke my head a-croſſe, and given Sir To-
by a cloudy Coxcombe too: for the love of God your help,
I had rather than forty pound I were at home.

Ol. Who has done this Sir Andrew?

And. The Counts Gentleman, one Cefario : we took
him for a Coward, but he's the very Devill incardinate.

Du. My Gentleman Cefario?

And. Odd's lifelings here he is: you broke my head
for nothing, and that that I did, I was ſet on to doo't by
Sir Toby.

Vio. Why do you ſpeak to me I never hurt you :

You drew your ſword upon me without cauſe,

But I beſpake you fair and hurt you not.

Enter Toby and Clown.

And. If a bloudy Coxcombe be a hurt, you have hurt
me: I think you ſet nothing by a bloudy Coxcombe,
Here comes fir Toby halting, you ſhall hear more: but if
he had not been in drink, he would have tickel'd you
other gates then he did.

Du. How now Gentleman ? how is't with you ?

To. That's all one, has hurt me, and there's an end on't.
Sot, did'ſt thou fee Dick Surgeon ſot ?

Clo. O he's drunk fir above an houre agone : his eyes
were at eight i'ch morning.

To. Then he's a Rogue after a paffy measures Pavin :
I hate a drunken Rogue.

Ol. Away with him ? Who hath made this havock
with them ?

And. I'le help you Sir Toby, becauſe we'll be dreſt to-
gether.

To. Will you help an Aſſe-head, and a Coxcombe,
and a Knave : a thin-fac'd Knave, a Gull ?

Ol.

274

Ol. Get him to bed, and let his hurt be look'd to,
Enter Sebastian.
Seb. I am forty Madam I have hurt your kinfman:
But had it been the brother of my bloud,
I must have done no leſſe with wit and safety.
You throw a ſtrange regard upon me, and by that
I do perceive it hath offended you:
Pardon me (ſweet one) even for the vows
We made each other, but so late ago.
Du. One face, one voyce, one habit, and two perſons,
A naturall Perſpective, that is, and is not.
Seb. Anthonio, O my dear Anthonio!
How have the hours rack'd, and toru'd me,
Since I have loft thee?
Ant. Sebastian are you?
Seb. Fear it thou that Anthonio?
Ant. How have you made division of your ſelf,
An ample cleft in two, is not more twin
I then theſe two creatures. Which is Sebastian?
Ol. Moſt wonderful!
Seb. Do I land there? I never had a brother:
Nor can there be a Deity in my nature
Of here and every where. I had a ſifter,
Whom the blinde waves and ſurges have devour'd:
Of charity, what kin are you to me?
What Countreyman? What name? What Parentage?
Vio. Of Melfatine: Sebastian was my Father,
Such a Sebastian was my brother too:
So went he ſuited to his watery tombe:
If ſpirits can affume both ſorme and ſuit,
You come to fright us,
Seb. A ſpirit I am indeed,
But am in that dimension groſly elad,
Which from the Wombe I did participate.
Were you a woman, as the reſt go even,
I should my tears let fall upon your cheeks,
And ſay, thrice welcome drowned Viola.
Via. My Father had a Moale upon his brow.
Seb. And fo had mine.
Vio. And di'd that day when Viola from her birth
Had numbred thirteen years.
Seb. O that record is lively in my ſoule,
He finiſhed indeed his mortall act
That day that made my ſifter thirteen years.
Vio. If nothing lets to make us happy both,
But this my maſculine ſurp'd attyre:
Do not embrace me, till each circumſtance,
Of place, time, fortune, do coheere and jum p
That I am Viola, which to confirme,
Ile bring you to a Captain in this Town,
Where lye my Maiden weeds : by whole gentle help,
I was preſer'd to ſerve this noble Count:
All the occurrence of my fortune ſince
Hath been between this Lady, and his Lord.
Seb. So comes it Lady, you have been miſtook:
But Nature to her bias drew in that.
You would have been contracted to a Maid,
Nor are you therein (by my life) deceiv'd,
You are betroth'd both to a Maid and man.
Du. Be not amaz'd, right noble is his bloud:
If this be ſo, as yet the glaſſe seems true,
I ſhall have ſhare in this moſt happy ſwrack.
Boy, thou haſt faid to me a thouſand times,
Thou never ſhould't love woman like to me.
Vio. And all that ſayings, will I overſwear
And all that ſwearings keep as true in ſoule,

As doth that Orbed Continent, the ſire,
That fevers day from night.
Du. Give me thy hand,
And let me fee thee in thy womans weeds.
Vio. The Captain that did bring me firſt on ſhore,
Hath my Maids garments: he upon ſome Action
Is now in durance, at Malvolio's ſuit,
A gentleman and follower of my Ladies.
Ol. He shall enlarge him: fetch Malvolio hither,
And yet alas, now I remember me,
They ſay, poor Gentleman, he's much diſtraet.
Enter the Clown with a Letter, and Fabian
A moſt exaſting frenzie of mine own,
From my remembrance, clearly baniſh his.
How does he firrah?

Clo. Truly Madam, he holds Belzebub at the flaves
end as well as a man in his cafe may do: has here writ a
letter to you, I should have given't you to day morning.
But as a mad mans Epit ſles are no Goſpels, ſo it skills not
much when they are deliver'd.

Ol. Open't and read it.

Clo. Look then to be well edified, when the Foole de-
livers the Madman. By the Lord Madam,

Ol. How now, art thou mad?

Clo. No Madam, I do but read madneſſe: and your
Ladisſhip will have it as it ought to be, you muſt allow
Vox.

Ol. Prethee read it i'thy right wits.

Clo. So I do Madona : but to read his right wits, is
to read thus: therefore, perpend my Princes, and give
ear.

Ol. Read it you, firrah.

Fab. Reads. By the Lord Madam, you wrong me and
the world ſhall know it: Though you have put me into
darkneſſe, and given your drunken Cozen rule over me,
yet have I benefit of my ſenſes as well as your Lad-
ship. I have your own Letter, that induced me to the
ſembiance I put on; with the which I doubt not, but to
do my ſelf moſt right, or you much ſhame: Think of me
as you pleafe. I leave my duty a little unthought of, and
ſpeak out of my injury.
The madly us'd Malvolio.

Ol. Did he write this?

Clo. I Madam.

Du. This favours not much of diſtraetion.

Ol. See him deliver'd: Fabian, bring him hither:
My Lord, so pleafe you, theſe things further thought on,
To think me as well a ſifter, as a wife,
One day ſhall crown th'alliance on't, so pleafe you,
Here at my houſe, and at my proper coſt.

Du. Madam, I am moſt apt t' embrace your offer:
Your Maſter quits you: and for your ſervice done him,
So much againſt the mettle of your ſex,
So far beneath your ſoft and tender breeding,
And ſince you call'd me maſter, for so long:
Here is my hand, you ſhall from this time be
Your Maſters Miftres.

Ol. A ſifter, you are the.

Enter Malvolio.

Du. Is this the Mad man?

Ol. I my Lord, this fame: How now Malvolio?

Mal. Madam, you have done me wrong,
Notorious wrong.

Ol. Have I Malvolio ? No.

Mal. Lady you have, pray you perſume that Letter,
You muſt not now deny it is your hand,
Write from it if you can, in hand or phraſe,

Or

275

Or say 'us not your teale, not your invention :
You can say none of this. Well, grant it then,
And tell me in the modeſt of honour,
Why you have given me ſuch clear lights of favour,
Bad me come ſmiling and croſſe garter'd to you,
To put on yellow ſtockings, and to frown
Upon Sir *Toby*, and the lighter people :
And aſting this in an obedient hope,
Why have you ſuffer'd me to be imprifon'd,
Kept in a dark houſe, viſited by the Prieſt,
And made the moſt notorious geek or gull,
That are invention plaid on ? Tell me why ?

Ol. Alas *Malvolio*, this is not my writing,
Though I conſeſſe, much like the Character :
But out of queſtion, 'tis *Maria's* hand.
And now I do bethink me, it was ſhe
First told me thou waſt mad; then can't in ſmiling,
And in ſuch formes, which here were preſuppos'd
Upon thee in the Letter: prethee be content,
This practice hath moſt ſhrewdly pаст upon thee :
But when we know the grounds and authours of it,
Thou ſhalt be both the plaintiff and the Judge
Of thine own cauſe.

Fab. Good Madam hear me ſpeak,
And let no quarrell, nor no brawle to come,
Taint the condition of this preſent hour,
Which I have wondred at. In hope it ſhall not,
Moft freely I conſeſſe my ſelf, and *Toby*
Set this device againſt *Malvolio* here,
Upon ſome ſtubborn and uncourteous parts
We had conceiv'd againſt him. *Maria* writ
The Letter, at Sir *Tobyes* great importance,
In recompence wherof, he hath married her :
How with a ſportfull malice it was follow'd,
May rather pluck on laughter then revenge,
If that the injuries be juſtly weigh'd,
That have on both fides pаст.

Ol. Alas poor Foole how have they baffeſ'd thee ?
Clo. Why ſome are born great, ſome atchieve great-
neſſe, and ſome have greatneſſe thrown upon them. I
was one fir, in this Enterlude, one Sir *Topas* fir, but that's

all one: By the Lord Foole, I am not mad: but do you
remember, Madam, why you laugh at ſuch a barren raſcal,
and you ſmile not he's gag'd: and thus the while-gigge
of time, brings in his revenges.

Mal. I'le be reveng'd on the whole pack of you.

Ol. He hath been moſt notoriously abus'd.

Du. Purſue him, and entreat him to a peace :

He hath not told us of the Cap.ain yet,
When that is known, and golden time convents,
A ſolemn Combination ſhall be made
Of our dear ſouls. Mean time ſweet ſifter,
We will not part from hence. Cefario come
(For fo you ſhall be while you are a man :)
But when in other habits you are ſeen.

Orſino's Mittris, and his ſancies Queen.

Exeunt.

Clown ſongs.

When that I was and a little time Boy,
with hey, ho, the'winde and the rain :

A foolish thing was but a toy,
for the rain it raineth every day.

But when I came to man's eſtate
with hey, ho, &c.

'Gainſt knaves and theeves men ſhut their gate,
for the rain, &c.

But when I came at last to wive,
with hey, ho, &c.

By swaggering could I never thrive,
for the rain, &c.

But when I came unto my beds,
with he, ho, &c.

With Tofpots ſtill had drunken heads,
for the rain, &c.

A great while a go the world be gon,
with hey, ho, &c.

But that's all one, our Play is done,
and we'll ſrive to please you every day.

F I N I S.

tion,
him hither:
other thought

o pleafe you,
t.
you offer
vice done he

eding,
ong:
me be

Malvolio
rong,

uſe that Leu-
hraſe,

The Winters Tale.

Actus Primus. Scena Prima.

Enter Camillo, and Archidamus.

Arch.

If you shall chance, Camillo, to visit Bohemia, on the like occasion whereon my services are now on-foot, you shall fee (as I have faid) great difference betwixt our Bohemia, and your Sicilia.

Cam. I think, this common Summer, the King of Sicilia means to pay Bohemia the visitation, which he juftly owes him.

Arch. Wherein our entertainment shall shame us: we will be jutified in our Loves: for indeed—

Cam. 'Befeech you—

Arch. Verily I speak it in the freedom of my knowledge: we cannot with such magnificence—in for rare—I know not what to say— We will give you fleepy Drinks, that your Sences (un-intelligent of our infuffidence) may, though they cannot prale us, as little accuse us.

Cam. You pay a great deal too dear, for what's given freely.

Arch. Beleeve me, I (speak as my understanding intructs me, and as mine honeſtly puts it to utterance.

Cam. Sicilia cannot ſhew himſelf over kind to Bohemia: They were train'd together in their Child-hoods; and there rooted bewixt them then ſuch an affection, which cannot choose but branch now. Since their more mature Dignities, and Royall Necefities, made ſeparation of their Society, their encounters (though not perſonal) have been royally attorneysed with enter-change of Gifts, Letters, loving Embaffies, that they have ſeem'd to be together, though abſent: ſhock hands, as over a Valt Sea, and embrac'd as it were from the ends of oppofed Winds. The Heavens continue their Loves.

Arch. I think there is not in the world, either Malice or Matter to alter it. You have an unſpeakable comfort of your young Prince *Mamillius*: it is a Gentleman of the greatest promife that ever came into my Note.

Cam. I very well agree with you in the hopes of him: it is a gallant Child, one that (indeed) Phyſicks the Subject, makes old hearts fresh: they that went on Crutches ere he was born, defire yet their life, to fee him a man.

Arch. Would they eſſe be content to die?

Cam. Yes; if there were no other excufe, why they should defire to live.

Arch. If the King had no Son, they would defire to live on Crutches till he had on. Exeunt.

Scena Secunda.

Enter Leontes, Hermione, Mamillius, Polixenes, Camillo.
Pol. Nine changes of the watry-Starre hath been

The Shepheards Note, ſince we have left our Throne
Without a Burthen: Time as long again
Would be fill'd up (my Brother) with our Thanks,
And yet we should, for perpetuity,
Go hence in debt: and therefore, like a Cypher
(Yet standing in rich place) I multiply
With one we thank you, many thouands moe,
That goe before it.

Leo. Stay your thanks a while,
And pay them when you part!

Pol. Sir, that's to morrow:

I am queſtion'd by my fears of what may chance,
Or breed upon our abſence, that may blow
No ſneaping Winds at home, to make us ſay,
This is put forth too truly: beſides, I have ſtay'd
To tire your Royalty.

Leo. We are tougher (Brother)
Then you can put us to't.

Pol. No longer ſtay.

Leo. One fevenight longer.

Pol. Very footh, to morrow.

Leo. Wee'll part the time between's then: and in that Ile no gainſaying.

Pol. Preſſe me not ('befeech you') ſo:
There is no tongue that moves; none, none i'th'world
So foon as yours, could win me: ſo it ſhould now,
Were there neceſſity in your requeſt, although
I were needful I deny'd it. My affairs
Do even drag me homeward: which to hinder,
Were (in your Love) a whip to me; my ſtay,
To you a Charge, and Trouble: to ſave both,
Farewell (our brother.)

Leo. Tongue ty'd our Queen? ſpeak you.

Her. I had thought (Sir) to have held my peace, untill
You had drawn Oathes from him, not to ſtay: you (Sir)
Charge him too coldly. Tell him, you are ſure
All in Bohemia's well: this ſatisfaction,
The by-gone-day proclaim'd, ſay this to him,
He's beat from his belt ward.

Leo. VWell faid, Hermione.

Her. To tell, he longs to fee his Sonne, were ſtrong:
But let him ſay ſo then, and let him go;
But let him ſwear ſo, and he ſhall not ſtay,
VVee'l thwack him hence with Diftaffes.
Yet of your Royal prefence, ile adventure
The borwof of a week. When at Bohemia,
You take my Lord, ile give him my Commiffions:
To let him there a Moneth, behind the Gueſt
Prefix'd for's parting: yet (good heed) Leontes,
I love thee not a jarre o'th'Clock, behind

A a

VWhat

["278", "The Winters Tale.", "V What Lady she the Lord. You'll fly?", "Pol. No, Madam.", "Her. N, y, but you will ?", "Pol. I may not verily.", "Her. Verily?", "You put me off with limber vows: but I,", "Though you would feek 't'unsphere the Stars with Oaths,\nShould yet fay, Sir, no going: verily", "You shall not go; a Ladies vertily is", "As potent as a Lords. VVill you goe yet?", "Force me to keep you as a prifoner,", "Not like a Gueſt: to you ſhall pay your Fees", "VWhen you depart, and fave your thanks. How ſay you ?", "My Prifoner ? or my Gueſt ? by your dread verily,", "One of them you ſhall be.", "Pol. Your Gueſt then Madam :", "To be your Prifoner, ſhould import offending;", "VWhere is for me left a eafe to commit,", "Then you to puniſh.", "Her. Not your Goaler then,", "Bur your kind Hoteſſe, come, ile question you", "Of my Lords tricks and yours, when you were boys :", "You were pretty Lordings then ?", "Pol. VVere were (fair Queen)", "Two Lads, that thought there was no more behind,", "But fuch a day to morrow, as to day,", "And to be boy eternal.", "Her. VVas not my Lord :", "The verier wag o'th' two?", "Pol. VVere were as twin'd Lambs, that did frisk i'th'Sun", "And bleat the one at th'other : what we chang'd,", "VVas innocence, for innocence: we knew not", "The DoCTRine of ill-doing, no nor dream'd", "That any did: had we purſu'd that life,", "And our weak ſpirits ne're been higher rear'd", "VWith ſtronger blood, we should have anſw'd Heaven", "Boldly, not guilty; the impoſition clear'd,", "Hereditary ours.", "Her. By this we gather", "You have tript ſince.", "Pol. O my moſt ſacred Lady,", "Temptations have ſince then been born to's: for", "In thofe unfledg'd daies, was my wife a Girlie;", "Your precious ſelf had then not cros'd the eies", "Of my young Play-fellow.", "Her. Grace to boot :", "Of this make no conclusion, leaſt you ſay", "Your Queen and I are Devils: yet go on,", "Th'offences we have made you do, weel anſwer,", "If you firſt finn'd with us : and that with us", "You did continue fault; and that you ſlipt not", "VWith any, but with us.", "Leo. Is he wonne yet ?", "Her. Hee'll fly, (my Lord)", "Leo. At my requeſt, he would not :", "Hermione (my deareſt) thou never ſpoak't", "To better purpofe,", "Her. Never?", "Leo. Never, but once.", "Her. VVhat have I twice ſaid well? when was't before?", "I prethee tell me: eram's with præſe, and make's", "As fat as tame things: One good deed, dying tongueleſſe", "Slaughters a thouſand, waiting upon that.", "Our præſes are our wages. You may ride's", "VWith one ſoft kit's a thouſand Furlongs, ere", "VWith Spur we heat an Acre. But to th'Goal:", "My laſt good deed was to intreat his ſtay.", "VWhat was my firſt ? it ha's an elder Sifter,", "Or I miſtake you: O, would her name were Grace,", "But once before I ſpake to th'purpofe ? when ?", "Nay, let me hav't: I long.", "Leo. VVhy, that was when", "Three crabbed Moneths had fowr'd themſelves to death,\nEre I could make thee open thy white hand :", "And clap thy ſelf, my Love; then didst thou utter,", "I am yours for ever.", "Her. 'Tis Grace indeed.", "VVhy lo-you now ? I have ſpoke to th'purpofe twice :", "The one for ever earnd a Royal Husband;", "Th'other, for some while a Friend.", "Leo. Too hot, too hot :", "To mingle friendſhip farre, is mingling bloods.", "I have Tremor Cordis on me: my heart dances,", "But not for joy; not joy. This entertainment", "May a free face put on: derives a Liberty", "From heartlineſe, from bounty, fertile boſom,", "And wee'l become the Agent: 't may; I grant :", "But to be padding palines, and pinching fingers,", "As now they are, and making præſtis'd miles", "As in a Looking-Glaſſe: and then to ſigh, as 'twere", "The Mort o'th'Deer: oh, that is entertainment", "My boſom likes not, nor my Browes. Mamillius,", "Art thou my boy ?", "Mam. I my good Lord.", "Leo. I'fecks :", "VVhy that's my Baſcock: what has't ſmitch'd thy Nofe?", "They ſay it is a Coppy out of mine. Come Captain,", "We muſt be neat ; not neat, cleanly Captain;", "And yet the Steer, the Heyſer, and the Calf,", "Are all call'd Neat. Still Virginalling", "Upon his palme ? How now (you wanton Calſe)", "Art thou my Calſe?", "Mam. Yes if you will (my Lord)", "Leo. Thou want't a rough path, & the fhoors that I have", "To be full, like me: yet they ſay we are", "Almoſt as like as Egges; Women ſay ſo,", "(That will ſay any thing, But were they ſalſe", "As ore dy'd Blacks, as VVind, as VVaters; ſalſe", "As Dice are to be wiſh'd, by one that fixes", "No born 'twixt his and mine; yet were it true,", "To ſay this Boy were like me. Come (Sir Page)", "Look on me with your welkin eye: aweet villain.", "Moſt deareſt, my Collop: Can thy Dam, may't be", "Aſſection ? thy intention ſtaps the Center.", "Thou doſt make poffible things not be ſo held,", "Communicat't with Dreams (how can this be ?)", "With what's unseal', thou coactive art,", "And fellow'ſt nothing. Then 'tis very credent,", "Thou maſt co-john with ſomething, and thou doſt,", "(And that beyond Commiffion) and I find it,", "(And that to the inſection of my Brains,", "And hardning of my Browes)", "Pol. What means Sicilia?", {"bbox": [669, 1

The Winters Tale.

279

Of my Boys face, me thoughts I did recoyl

Twenty three years, and faw my felf unbreech¹, ¹

In my green Velvet Coat; my Dagger muzzel'd, ¹
Leaft it should bite it's Matter, and so prove

(As Ornaments oft do's) too dangerous :

How like (me thought) I then was to this Kernel

This Squash, this Gentleman. Mine honest friend,
Will you take eggs for Money ?

Mam. No (my Lord) ile fight.

Leo. You will : why happy man be's dole. My brother
Are you so fond of your young Prince, as we

Do seem to be of ours ?

Pol. If at home (Sir)

Here's all my exercise, my Birth, my Matter ;

Now my fwnw friend, and then mine enemy ;

My Parafite, my Souldier: States-man ; all

He makes a July's day, short as December,

And with his varying child-nefle, cures in me

Thoughts, that should thick my blood.

Leo. So stands this Squire

Off'd with me: We two will walk (my Lord)

And leave you to your graver feps. Hermions.

How thou lov't, us, they in our Brothers welcome ;

Let what is dear in Sicily be cheap ;

Next to thy self, and my young Rover, he's

Apparent to my heart.

Her. If you would feek us,

We are yours i' th' Garden : i'll attend you there ?

Leo. To your own bents diffpoe you : you'd be found,

Be you beneath the Sky: I am angling now,

(Though you perceive me not how I give Lyne)

Goe to, goe to.

How the nee up the Neb ? the Byll to him ?

And armes her with the boldneſſe of a Wife

To her allowing Husband, Gone already,

Inch thick, knee deep; ore head antears a fork'd one.

Goe play (Boy) play : thy Mother plaies, and I

Play too ; but fo diſgrac'd a part, whose iſſue

Will hihſe me to my Grave : Conempt and Clamor

Will be my Knell. Goe play (Boy) play, there have been
(Or I am much deceiv'd) Cuckolds ere now,

And many a man there is (even at this prefent) :

Now, while I ſpeak this) holds his Wife by th'Arme,

That little thinks he has been fluy'd in's abſence

And his Pond ſh'd by his next Neighbour (by

Sir Smil, his Neighbour : nay, there's comfort in't,

Whiles other men have Gates, and thofe Gates open'd

(As mine) against their will. Should all deſpair,

That have revolted wives, the tenth of Minkind.

Would hang themselves. Phyſick for't, there's none.

It is a bawdy Planet that will ſtrike

Where 'tis predominant, and 'tis powerful : think it.

From East, West, North, and South, be it concluded, low

No Baricado for a Belly. Know't,

It will let in and out the enemy,

With bag and baggage : many thouand on's

Have the diſeafe, and feel't not. How now Boy ?

Mam. I am like you they ſay.

Leo. Why, that's ſome comfort.

What ? Camillo there ?

Cam. I, my good Lord.

Leo. Go play (Mamillius) thou'rt an honest man; and
Camillo, this great Sir, will yet ſay longer.

Cam. You had much adoe to make his Anchor hold,
When you caſt out, it ſtill came home.

Leo. Didst note it ?

Cam. He would not ſay at your petitions, made
His buſineſſe more material.

Leo. Didst perceive it ?

They're here with me already ; whisſ'ring, rounding :
Sicilia is a ſo-forth: tis farre gone,

When I (hall guſt it laſt) How cam't (Camillo)

That he did ſay ?

Cam. At the good Queens entreaty.

Leo. At the Queens be't : Good should be pertinent,
But fo it is, it is not. Was this taken

By any understanding pate but thine ?

For the conceit is foaking, will draw in

More then the common Blocks, Not noted, is't,

But of the finer Natures ? by ſome Severalls

Of Head-peece extraordinary ? Lower Meſſes

Perchance are to this buſineſſe purblind ? ſay.

Cam. Buſineſſe, my Lord ? I think moſt understand
Bohemia taſes here longer.

Leo. H't?

Cam. Staies here longer.

Leo. I, but why?

Cam. To ſatisſe your Highneſſe, and the Entreaties
Of our moſt gracious Mitrids.

Leo. Satisſe ?

Th'entreaties of your Miftreſſe ? Satisſe ?

Let that ſuffice. I have truſted thee (Camillo)

With all the neſt things to my heart, as well

My Chamber-Counsels, wherein (Prieſt-like) thou

Haſt cleans'd my boſom : I, from thee departed

Thy penitent reform'd: but we have been

Deceiv'd in thy integrity, deceiv'd

In that which seems ſo.

Cam. Be it forbid (my Lord.)

Leo. To bide upon't: thou art not honest : or

If thou inclin't that way, thou art a Coward,

Which hoxes honesty behind, reſtraining

From Courſe require'd : or else thou muſt be counted

A Servant, grafted in my ſerious Truſt,

And therein negligent : or else a Foole,

That ſeeth a Game plaid home, the rich ſtake drawn.

And tak't it all for jeſt.

Cam. My gracious Lord,

I may be negligent, foolish, and fearful,

In every one of these, no man is free,

But that his negligence, his folly, fear,

Amongst the infinite doing of the World,

Sometime puts forth in your affairs (my Lord.)

If ever I were wilſul- negligent.

It was my folly : if induſtriously

I play'd the fool, it was my negligence,

Not weighing well the end : if ever fearful

To do a thing, where I the iſſue doubted,

Whereof the execution did cry out

Againſt the non-performance, it was a ſear

Which oft infects the wifef't : theſe (my Lord)

Are ſuch allowed inſirmities that honesty

Is never free of. But beſeech your Grace

Be plainer with me, let me know my treſpaſs

By it's own viſage ; if I then deny it,

Tis none of mine.

Leo. Ha'not you seen Camillo ?

(But that's pafft doubt: you have, or your eye-glase

Is thicker than a Cuckolds Horn) or heard ?

(For to a Viſion so apparent, Rumour

Cannot be mure) or thought ? (for Cogitation

Reſides not in that man, that do's not think)

A a 2

My

280

The Winters Tale.

My Wife is slippery ? if thou wilt confeſſe,
Or else be impudently negative,
To have nor eies, nor ears, nor thought, then lay
My wife's a Holy-Horſe, deferves a Name
As rank as any Flax-wench, that puts to
Before her troth-plight: f'y't, and juſtify't.

Cam. I would not be a ſtander-by, to hear
My Soveraign Mittrifs clouded ſo, without
My prefent vengeance taken : 'threw my heart,
You never ſpoke what did become you leſſe
Then this ; which to reriterate, were ſin
As deep as that, though true.

Leo. I: whispering nothing :
Is leaning Cheek to Cheek ? is meating Noſes ?
Kiffing with inſide Lip ? ſtopping the Carier
Of Laughter, with a ſigh ? ( a note inſallible
Of breaking honetely ) horſing footon foot :
Skulking in corners ? wifhing Clocks more swift ?
Hours, Minutes ? the Noon, Midnight ? and all eies
Blind with the pin and web, but theirs ; theirs only,
That would unſeen be wicked ? Is this nothing ?
Why then the world, and all that's in't, is nothing,
The covering Skie is nothing, Bohemia nothing,
My wife is nothing, nor nothing have these nothing,
If this be nothing.

Cam. Good my Lord, be cur'd
Of this diſeād opinion, and betimes

For 'tis moſt dangerous.

Leo. Say it be, 'tis true.

Cam. No, no, my Lord.

Leo. It is: you lye, you lye :

I lay thou lye Camillo, and I hate thee,
Pronounce thee a groſſe Lowt, a mindleſſe Slave,
Or eſſe a hovering Temporizer, that

Canſt with thine eies at once ſee good and eviſ.

Inclining to them both : were my wives Liver

Infected (as her life) ſhe would not live

The running of one Glaſſe.

Cam. Who do's infect her ?

Leo. Why he that wears her like her Medull, hanging
About his neck (Bohemia) who, if I

Had ſervants true about me, that bare eies

To fee like mine honour, as their profits,
(Their own particular Thrifts) they would do that

Which ſhould undoe more doing : I, and thou

His Cup-bearer, whom I from meaner forme

Have bench'd, and rear'd to worſhip, who may ſt ſee

Plainly, as Heaven ſees earth, and earth ſees Heaven,

How I am gall'd, thou mightt be ſpice a Cup,

To give mine enemy a laſting wink :

Which draught to me, were cordiall.

Cam. Sir (my Lord)

I could do this, and that with noraſh Potion,
But with a lingring Dram, that should not work

Malicouſly, like poſſon ? but I cannot

Beleeve this Crack to be in my dread Mitreſſe
(So Soveraignly being honourable.)

I have lov'd thee.

Leo. Make that thy queſtion, and go not a ſuſa ne a
Do't think I am so muddy, so unſeſled,

To appoint my ſelf in this exutation ?

Sully the purity and whiteſenele of my ſheers
(Which to preſerve, is ſleep : which being ſpotted,

Is Goſds, Thorns, Nettles, Tails of Waſps)

Give ſcandall to the blood o'th'Prince, my Sonne,
(Who I do think is mine, and love as mine)

Without ripe moving to't ? Would I do this ?
Could man ſo ſblench ?

Cam. I muſt beleeve you (Sir)

I doe, and will fetch off Bohemia to't :

Provided, that when he's remov'd, your Highneſſe

Will take again your Queen, as yours at first,

Even for your ſonnes ſake, and thereby for ſealing

The injury of Tongues, in Courts and Kingdoms

Known and ally'd to yours.

Leo. Thou doſt advife me.

Even ſo as I mine own course have ſet down :

I lege no blemiſh to her honour, none.

Cam. My Lord,

Goe then ; and with a countenance as clear
As friendſhip wears at Fearts, keep with Bohemia

And with your Queen : I am his Cup-bearer,

If from me he have wholſome Beveridge,

Account me not your Servant.

Leo. This is all :

Do't, and thou haſt the one haſſe of my heart ;

Do't not, thou ſplitt ſt thine own.

Cam. Ile do't, my Lord.

Leo. I will ſeem friendly, as thou haſt adviſ'd me. Exii.

Cam. O miſerable Lady. But for me !

What caſe I stand I in ? I muſt be the poyſoner

Of good Polixenes, and my ground to do't,

Is the obedience to a Matter ; one,

Who in Rebellion with himſelf, will have

All that are his, ſo too. To do this deed,

Promotion follows : If I could find example

Of thouſands that had ſtruck anointed Kings,

And flouriſh'd after, I'd not do't : But ſince

Nor Braſſe, nor Stone, nor Parchment bears not one,

Let villany it ſelf forſwear't. I muſt

Forſake the Court : to do't, or no, is certain

To me a break-neck. Happy Starre raign now,

Here comes Bohemia.

Enter Polixenes.

Pol. This is ſtrange : me thinks

My favour here begins to warp. Not ſpeak ?

Good day Camillo.

Cam. Hoyl moſt royal Sir.

Pol. What is the news i'th Court?

Cam. None rare (my Lord.)

Pol. The King hath one him ſuch a countenance,

As he had left ſome Province, and a Region

Lov'd, as he loves himſelf : even now I met him

With customary complement, when he

Waſting his eies to the contrary, and ſalling

A Lippe of much contempt, ſpeeds from me, and

So leaves me to consider what is breeding,

That changes thus his Manners.

Cami. I dare not know (my Lord.)

Pol. How, dare not do not ? do you know, and dare not ?
Be intelligent to me, 'is thereabouts :

For to your ſelf, what do you know, you muſt,

And cannot ſay, you dare not. Good Camillo,

Your chang'd complexions are to me a Mirror,

Which ſhews me mine chang'd too : for I muſt be

A party in this alteration, finding

My ſelf thus alter'd with't.

Cam. There is a ſickneſſe

Which puts ſome of us in diſtemper, but

I cannot name the Difeaſe, and it is caught

Of you, that yet are well.

Pol. How caught of me ?

Make me not fighted like the Baſſilique.

I have

I look'd
By my
As you
Clerk-like
Our Ge-
In who
If you
Thereof
In igno-
Can.
Pol.
I muſt
I conjur
Which is
Is not the
What is
Is creep
Which is
If not,
Can.
Since I
That I
Which is
I mean to
Cry loſt,
Pol.
Can.
Pol.
I
To an infan-
Be yok't
Turn the
A favour,
Where I
Nay hated
That ere
Can.
S.
By each pa-
By all thei-
Forbid the
As (or by
The Fabric
I spied up
The standin-
Pol.
Can.
I
Avoid wha-
If therefor
That lies en
Still bear a
Your. Follo-
And will by
Clear them
My fortune
For this diſe-
For by the
Have utteſed
I dare not t
Then one of
Thereon his

282

The Winters Tale.

Mam. There was a man.

Her. Nay, come fit down : then on.

Mam. Dwelt by a Church-yard: I will tell it softely,
Yond Crickets shall not hear it.

Her. Come on then, and giv't me in mine ear. Enter L.

Leon. Was he met there ? his Train? Camillo with
him?

Lord. Behind the tuft of Pines I met them, never
Saw I men fowr fo on their way: I eyed them
Even to their Ships.

Leo. How bleft am I

In my juſt Cenſure? In my true Opinion ?
Alack, for leſſer knowledge, how accurs'd,
In being ſo bleſt? There may be in the Cup
A Spider ſleep'd, and one may drink; depart,
And yet partake no venom; (for his knowledge
Is not inſeſted) but if one preſent
Th' abhorr'd Ingrediente to his eye, make known
How he hath drunk, he crackes his gorge, his ſides
With violent Hefes: I have drunk, and feen the Spider.

Camillo was his help in this, his Pander :
There is a plot against my Life, my Crown ;
All's true that is miſtruſted: that falſe Villain,
Whom I employ'd, was pre-employ'd by him :
He ha's diſcovered my Deſign, and I
Remain a pinch'd Thing; yet, a very Trick
For them to play at will: how came the Poſterneſs
So eafily open?

Lord. By his great authority,
Which often hath no leſs prevail'd, then ſo
On your command.

Leo. I know't too well.

Give me the Boy, I am glad you did not nurſe him:
Though he do's bear ſome ſignes of me, yet you
Have too much bloud in him.

Her. What is this ? Sport?

Leo. Bear the Boy hence, he ſhall not come about her,
Away with him, and let her ſport her ſelf.
With that ſhe's big with, for 'tis Polixenes
Ha's made thee ſwell thus.

Her. But I'll ſay he had not ;
And Ile be ſworn you would believe my ſaying,
How e're you lean to th' Nayward.

Leo. You (my Lords)

Look on her, mark her well; be but about
To ſay ſhe is a goodly Lady, and

The juſtice of your hearts will thereto add
'Tis pity ſhe's not honet: Honourable:

Prayſe her but for this her without-dore-Form,
(Which on my faith deferves high ſpeech) and ſtraight
The Shrug, the Hum, or Ha, (theſe Petty-brands
That Calumny doth uſe: Oh I am out,
That Mercy do's, for Calumny will ſear
Vertue it ſelf) theſe Shrugs, theſe Hum's, and Ha's,
When you have ſaid ſhe's goodly, come between,
Ere you can ſay ſhe's honet: But be't known
(From him that ha's moſt cauſe to grieve it should be)
She's an Adultreſs.

Her. Should a Villain ſay ſo,
(The moſt repleniſh'd Villain in the world)

He were as much more Villain : you (my Lord)
Do but miſtake.

Leo. You have miſtook (my Lady.)

Polixenes for Leontes: O thou Thing,
(Which He not call a Creature of thy place,
Leaſt Barbariſme (making me the precedent)

Should a like Language uſe to all degrees,
And mannerly diſtinguifhment leave out,
Betwixt the Prince and Beggar: I have ſaid
She's an Adultreſs, I have ſaid with whom :

More: She's a Traytor, and Camillo is
A Federary with her, and one that knowes
What ſhe should ſhame to know her ſelf,
But with her moſt vild Principal; that ſhe's
A Bed-fwarver, not as bad as thofe
That Vulgars give bold'ſt Titles, I, and privy
To this their late eſcape.

Her. No (by my life)

Privy to none of this: how will this grieve you,
When you ſhall come to cleare knowledge, that
You thus have pubſh'd me ? Gentle my Lord,
You ſcare me can right me throughly, then, to ſay
You did miſtake.

Leo. No: If I miſtake

In thatoſe Foundations which I build upon,
The Center is not big enough to bear
A School-Boyes Top. Away with her, to Prifon :
He who ſhall ſpeak for her, is afar-off guilty,
But that he ſpeaks.

Her. There's ſome ill-Planſt raigneſ:
I muſt be patient, till the Heavens look
With an asſpect more favourable. Good my Lords,
I am not prone to weeping (as our Sex
Commonly are) the want of which vain dew
Perchance ſhall dry your pities: but I have
That honourable Grief ſlodg'd here, which burnes
Worſte then Tears drowne: 'befeefe you all (my Lords)
With thoughts ſo qualified, as your Charities

With ſbeilt inſtruct you, meaſure me: and ſo

The Kings will be perform'd.

Leo. Shall I be heard ?

Her. Who is't that goes with me?'befeefe your Highneſs
My women may be with me, for you ſee
My Plight requires it. Do not weep (good Fooles)

There is no cauſe: When you ſhall know your Miftris
Ha's deferv'd Prifon, then abound in tears,

As I come out: this Action I now go on,

Is for my better grace. Adieu (my Lord)

I never with'd to ſee you forry, now

I truſt I ſhall: my Women come, you have leave,

Leo. Go do our bidding: hence.

Lord. Befeefe your Highneſs call the Queen again.

Ant. Be certain what you do (Sir) left your Juſtice
Prove violence, in the which three great ones ſuffer,
Your ſelf, your Queen, your Son.

Lord. For her (my Lord)

I dare my life lay down, and will do't (Sir)

Please you t' accept it, that the Queen is spotleſs
I'ch' eyes of Heaven, and to you (I mean
In this, which you accuſe her.)

Amig. If it prove

She's otherwife, Ile keep my Stables where
I lodge my Wife, Ile go in couples with her :
Then when I feel, and ſee her, no further truſt her :
For every Inch of Woman in the World,
I, every dram of Womans fleth is falſe,
If ſhe be.

Leo. Hold your peaces.

Lord. Good my Lord.

Amig. It is for you we ſpeak, not for our ſelves :

You are abus'd, by ſome putter on,

That will be damn'd for't: would I knew the Villain,
I would

I would
I have the
The ſecond
If this p
I leſſe
To bring
And I h
Should I
Leaſt
I would
You fine
As is
As you f
The infla
Am.

Lord.

We nee
There's of
Of the w
Leaſt
Lord.

Upon the
To have
Be blam
Leaſt.

Commun
Our for
Calls not
Imparts
Or ſeemi
Reliſh a
We neec
The loſſ
Is all pro
Am.

You had
Without

Either the
Or thou w
Added to
(Which w
That lack
But only
Made up to
Yet for a
(For in an
Moft pitt
To ſacte
Commines
Of ſluff'd
They will
Shall ſop,
Lord.

Leaſt
Leaſt that
Be left he
We are to
Will ſaile
Amig.

If the good

284

The Winters Tale.

Paul. Tell her (Emilia)

He ufe that tongue I have : If wit flow from't
As boldneſſe from my bosom, let't not be doubted
I ſhall do good.

Emil. Now be you bleſſ for it.

Ile to the Queen: pleaſe you come ſomethng neerer.

Goa. Madam if't pleaſe the Queen to ſend the babe,
I know not what I ſhall incurre, to paffe it,
Having no warrant.

Paſ. You need not fear it (fir)

This Child was prifoner to the womb, and is
By Law and proceſſe of great Nature, thence
Free'd, and enfranchis'd, not a party to
The anger of the King, nor guilty of
(If any be) the trefpaſ's of the Queen.

Goa. I do beleeve it.

Paſ. Do not you ſear : upon mine honour, I
Will ſtand betwixt you, and danger.

Exennt.

## Scena Tertia.

Enter Leones, Servantes, Paulina, Antigonus,
and Lords.

Leo. Nor night, nor day, no reſt : it is but weakneſſe

To bear the matter thus: meer weakneſſe, if
The cauſe were not in being : part o'th cauſe,
She, th'Adultreſſe ; for the harlot-King

Is quite beyond mine arme : out of the blank

And level of my brain: plot-proof : but ſhe,

I can hook to me : ſay that ſhe were gone,

Given to the fire; a moity of my reſt

Might come to me again. Who's there ?

Ser. My Lord.

Enter.

Leo. How do's the boy ?

Ser. He took good reſt to night : 'tis hop'd

His ſickneſſe is diſcharg'd.

Leo. To fee his Noblenecſſe,

Conceiving the diſhonour of his Mother,

He ſtraight declin'd, droop'd, took it deeply,

Falten'd, and fix'd the ſhame on't in himſelf:

Threw off his Spirit, his Appetite, his Sleep,

And down-right languifh'd. Leave me solely : go,

See how he fares: Fie, ſie, no thought of him,

The very thought of my Revenges that way

Recoyl upon me : in himſelf too mighty,

Untill a time may ſerve, For preſent vengeance

-Take it on her: Camillo, and Polixenes

Laugh at me ; make their paſttime at my ſorrow ;

They ſhould not laugh, if I could reach them, nor

Shall ſhe, within my power.

Enter Paulina.

Lord. You muſt not enter.

Paul. Nay rather (good my Lords) be ſecond to me :

Fear you his tyrannous paſſion more (alas)

Then the Queens life ? A gracious innocent foul,

More free, then he is jealous.

Antig. That's enough.

Ser. Madam; he hath not ſlept to night, commanded

None (should come at him).

Paſ. Not so hor (good Sir)

I come to bring him ſleep. 'Tis ſuch as you

That creep like shadowes by him, and do ſight

At each his needleſſe heavings : ſuch as you

Nouriſh the cauſe of his awaking. I

Do come with words, as medicinal, as true ;
(Honeſt, as either;) to purge him of that humour,
That preſſes him from ſleep.

Leo. What noife there, hoe ?

Paſ. No noife (my Lord) but neeſtful conference,

About ſome Goffips for your Highneſſe.

Leo. How ?

Awaſh with that audacious Lady. Antigonus.

I charg'd thee that ſhe ſhould not come about me,
I knew ſhe would.

Ant. I told her ſo (my Lord)

On your diſpleasures peril and on mine,
She ſhould not viſit you.

Leo. What ? canſt not rule her ?

Paſ. From all diſhonesty he can : in this
(Untleſſe he take the course that you have done)
Commit me, for committing honor, trust it,
He ſhall not rule me :

Ant. La-you now, you hear,
When ſhe will take the rain, I let her run,
But ſhe'l not flumble.

Paul. Good my Liege I come :

And I beſeech you hear me: who proſeſſes

My ſelf your loyal ſervant, your Phyſitian,

Your moſt obedient Counſellor: yet that dares

Leſſe appear ſo, in comforting your evils,

Then ſuch as moſt feem yours. I ſay, I come

From your good Queen.

Leo. Good Queen ?

Paul. Good Queen (my Lord) good Queen,

I ſay good Queen,

And would by comtare, make your good ſo, were I

A man, the worſt about you.

Leo. Force her hence.

Paſ. Let him that makes but trifles of his eies
First hand me: on mine own accord, ile off,
But firſt ; ile do my errand. The good Queen
(For ſhe is good) hath brought you forth a daughter,
Here 'tis : commends it to your bleſſing.

Leo. Out :

A mankind Witch ? Hence with her, out o'dore :

A moſt intelligencig bawd.

Paul. Not ſo :

I am as ignorant in that, as you,

In ſo entuſling me : and no leſſe honet

Then you are mad : which is enough, ile warrant

(As this world goes) to paffe for honet.

Leo. Traitors ;

Will you not pufh her out ? Give her the Baſtard,

Thou docard, thou art woman-tyr'd : unrooſted

By thy dame Partlet here. Take up the Baſtard,

Tak't up, I ſay: give't to the Croane,

Paul. For ever

Unvenerable be thy hands, if thou

Tak't up the Princeſſe, by that ſorced baſeneſſe

Which he has put upon't,

Leo. He dreads his Wifew.

Paul. So I would you did : then 'twere paſſ all doubt.

You'l call your children, yours.

Leo. A neſt of Traitors.

Ant. I am none, by this good light.

Paul. Nor I : nor any

But one that's here : and that's himſelf : for he,

The

The Winters Tale.

285

The sacred honour of himfelf, his Queene,
His hopeful Sons, his Bifes, betrayes to flander,
Whofe fting is (harper then the Swords, and will not
(For as the cafe now stands, it is a Curfe
He cannot be compell'd too't) once remove
The Root of his Opinion, which is rotten,
As ever Oak, or flone was found.

### Leo. A Callat

Of boundleſs tongue, who late hath beat her husband,
And now baits me: This Brat is none of mine,
It is the Ille of Polixenes.

Hence with it, and together with the Dam,
Commit them to the fire.

### Paul. It is yours :

And might we lay th' old Proverb to your charge,
So like you, 'tis the worſe. Behold (my Lords)
Although the print be little, the whole Matter
And Copy of the Father: (Eye, Noſe, Lip,
The trick of's Frown, his Forehead, nay, the Valley,
The pretty dimples of his Chin, and Cheek ; his Smiles
The very Mold, and frame of hand, nayl, Finger.)
And thou good Goddeſs Nature, which haſt made it
So like to him that got it, if thou haſt
The ordering of the Mind too, 'mongſt all Colours
No Yellow in't, left the ſuſpect, as he do's,
Her Children, not her Husbands.

### Leo. A groſs Hag :

And Lozel, thou art worthy to be hang'd,
That wilt not ſtay her Tongue.

### Amig. Hang all the Husbands

That cannot do that Feat, you'll leave your ſelf
Hardly one Subject.

### Leo. Once more take her hence.

### Paul. A moſt unworthy, and unnatural Lord

Can do no more.

### Leo. Ile ha' thee burnt.

### Paul. I care not ;

It is an Heretick that makes the fire,

Not ſhe which burnes in't. Ile not call you Tyrant ;
But this moſt cruel uſage of your Queen
(Not able to produce more accufation
Then your own weak-hing'd Tyranny) ſomething favours
Of Tyranny, and will ignoble make you,
Yea, ſcandalous to the World.

### Leo. On your Allegiance,

Out of the Chamber with her. Were I a Tyrant,
Where were her life ? ſhe durſt not call me ſo,
If she did know me one. Away with her.

### Paul. I pray you do not pufh me, Ile be gone.
Look to your Babe (my Lord)'t yours: Jove ſend her
A better guiding Spirit. What need theſe hands ?
You that are thus ſo tender o're his Follies,
Will never do him good, not one of you.
So, ſo: Farewel, we are gone. Exit.

### Leo. Thou (Traytor) haſt fet on thy Wife to this.
My Child ? away with't ? even thou, that haſt
A heart ſo tender o're it, take it hence,
And fee it instantly confum'd with fire.
Even thou, and none but thou. Take it up straight,
Within this hour bring me my word 't is done.

(And by good teſtimony) or Ile feize thy life,
With what thou elſe call it thine : if, thou reſuſe,
And wilt encounter with my VVrath, ſay ſo:
The Baſtard-braines with theſe my proper hands.

Shall I dash out: Go take it to the fire,
For thou fett it on thy VVife.

### Amig. I did not, Sir :

Thele Lords, my Noble Fellowes, if they pleafe,
Can clear me in't.

### Lords. We can ; my Royal Liege,
He is not guilty of her coming hither.

### Leo. You're Liars all.

### Lord. Befeech your Highneſs give us better credit :

We have alwaies truly feiv'd you, and beſeech
So to eſteem of us : and on our knees we beg,
(As recompenſe of our dear ſervices
Paſt, and to come) that you do change this purpose,

Which being ſo horrible, ſo bloody, muſt
Lead on to ſome foul Illue. We all kneel.

### Leo. I am a Feather for each wind that blowes :
Shall I live on, to ſee this Baſtard kneel ;
And call me Father ? better burn it now,
Then curſe it then. But be it : let it live.

It shall not neither. You Sir, come you hither :
You that have been ſo tenderly ofſicious

With Lady Margery, your Mid-wife there,
To five this Baſtards life ; for 'tis a Baſtard,

So ſure as this Beard's gray. What will you adventure,
To ſave this Brats life?

### Amig. Any thing (my Lord)

That my ability may undergo,
And Noblenefs impoſe : at left thus much ;
Ile pawn the little cloud which I have left,
To ſave the innocent : any thing poffible.

### Leo. It shall be poffible: Swear by this Sword
Thou wilt perform my bidding.

### Amig. I will (my Lord.)

### Leo. Mark and perform it: ſeeſt thou ? for the fail
Of any point in't, ſhall not only be

Death to thy ſelf, but to thy lewd-tongu'd Wife,
(Whom for this time we pardon) We enjoyn thee
As thou art Liege-man to us, that thou carry

Thi: female Baſtard hence, and that thou bear it
To ſome remote and defart place, quite out
Of our Dominions; and that there thou leave it

(Without much mercy) to its own protection,
And favour of the Climate: as by ſtrange fortune,
It come to us, I do in Juitſe charge thee,
On thy Soules peril, and thy bodies torturen,
That thou commend it ſtrangely to ſome place,
Where Change may nurſe, or end it: take it up.

### Amig. I ſwear to do this: though a preſent death
Had been more merciful. Come on (poor Babe)
Some powerful Spirit inſtruet the Kites and Ravens
To be thy Nurſes. Wolves and Bears, they ſay,
(Caſling their favagenefs alſide) have done

Like offices of pity. Sir, be pofferous
In more then this deed do's require; and bleſſing
Ainaſt this Cruelty, fight on thy ſide

(Poor Thing condemn'd to loſs.)

Exits.

### Leo. No: Ile not rear

Anothers Illue.

Enter a Servant.

### Serv. Pleaſe your Highneſs, Poſſes
From thofe you ſent to th' Oracle, are come
An hour ſince: Cleomines and Dion,
Being well arriv'd from Delphos, are both landed,
Haſting to th' Court.

### Lord. So pleafe you (Sir) their ſpeed
Hath been beyond accompt.

### Leo. Twenty three dayes

They have been abſent : 'tis good ſpeed : foretels
The great Apollo suddenly will have

The

The Winters Tale.

287

Her. Sir,
You speak a Language that I understand not :
My Life stands in the level of your Dreames,
Which He lay down.
Leo. Your Actions are my Dreames,
You had a Baſtard by Polixenes,
And I but dream'd it : As you were paſt all ſtname,
(Thole of your ſact are I) to paſt all truth ;
Which to deny, concerues more then availes : for as
Thy Brat hath been caſt out, like to it ſelf,
No Father owning it, (which is indeed
More criminal in thee, then it) to thou
Shalt feel our Juſtice ; in whole eaſielt paſſage,
Look for no leſs then death.

Her. Sir, I spare your Threats :
The Bugge which you would fright me with, I seek :
To me can Life be no commodity.
The Crown and comfort of my Life (your Favour)
I do give loft, for I do feel it gone,
But know not how it went. My ſecond Joy,
And firſt fruits of my body, from his preſence
I am barr'd like one infectious. My third comfort
(Star'd moſt unluckily) is from my break
(The innocent milk in it moſt innocent mouth)
Hal'd out to murder. My ſelf on every Poſt
Proclaim'd a Strumper : With immodest hatred
The Child-bed privilege deny'd, which longs
To Women of all fashion. Laffly, hurried
Here, to this place, i'th' open ayr before
I have got ſtrength of limbs. Now (my Liege)
Tell me what bleſſings I have here alive,
That I should fear to dye? Therefore proceed :
But yet hear this: miſt ke me not: no Life,
(Iprize it not a (traw) but for mine Honour,
Which I would free: if I shall be condemn'd
Upon furminizes (all proofes ſleeping elfe,
But what your Jealousies awake ) I tell you
'Tis Rigour, and not Lw. Your Honours all,
I do refer me to the Oracle :

Apollo be my Judge.

Lord. This your requeſt
Enter Dion and Cleomenes.
Is altogether juſt: therefore bring forth
(And in Apollo's Name ) his Oracle.

Her. The Emperour of Ruffia was my Father,
Oh that he were alive, and here beholding
His Daughters Tryal : that he did but fee
The ſtylens of my miſery ; yet with eyes
Of pitty, nor Revenge.

Officer. You here ſhall wear upon the Sword of Juſtice,
That you (Cleomenes and Dion) have
Been both at Delphos, and from thence have brought
This ſeal'd-up Oracle, by the hand deliver'd
Of great Apollo's Priett; and that ſince then,
You have not dar'd to break the holy Seal,
Nor read the Secrers in't.

Cleo. Dio. All this we swear.

Leo. Break up the Seales and read.

Officer. Hermione is chaf't, Polixenes blameleſs, Camillo
a true Subject, Leontes a jealous Tyrant, his innocent Babe
truly begotten, and the King shall live without an Heir, if that
which is left, be not found.

Lords. Now bleſſed be the great Apollo.

Her. Praiſed.

Leo. Haſt thou read the truth ?

Offic. I (my Lord) even to as it is here ſet down.

Leo. There is no truth at all i'th' Oracle.

The ſeſſions ſhall proceed: this is, meer falſhood,

Ser. My Lord the King: the King?

Leo. What is the buſineſs ?

Ser. O Sir, I shall be hated to report it.

The Prince your Son, with meer conceit and fear
Of the Queen's ſpeed, is gone.

Leo. How ? Gone ?

Ser. Is dead.

Leo. Apollo's angry, and the Heavens themselves

Do ſtrike at my Injure. How now there ?

Paul. This newes is mortal to the Queen : Look down
And fee what death is doing.

Leo. Take her hence :

Her heart is but o're-charg'd: the ſle will recover.

/ have too much believ'd mine own ſuſpicion :

'Befeech you tenderly apply to her

Some remedies for life. Apollo pardon

My great prophanefs 'gainſt thine Oracle.

Ile reconcile me to Polixenes,

New wooe my Queen, recal the good Camillo

(Whom I proclaim a man of Truth, of Mercy :)

For being transporsed by my Jealousies

To bloudy thoughts and to revenge, Ichoſe

Camillo for the minifter, to poyſon

My friend Polixenes: which had been done,

But that the good mind of Camillo tardied

My ſwift command: though I with death, and with

Reward did threaten and encourage him,

Not doing it, and being done: he, (moſt humane,

And fill'd with Honour) to my Kingly Gueſt

Unclaſſ'd my practife, quit his fortunes here

(Which you knew great) and to the certain hazard

Of all uncertainties, himſelf commended,

No richer then his Honour: How he glifters

Through my dark Ruſt ? and how his Piety

Do's my deeds make the blacker ?

Paul. Wo the while :

O cut my Lace, left my heart (cracking it)

Break too.

Lord. What fit is this? Good Lady?

Paul. What ſtudied torments (Tyrant) haſt for me?

What Wheels? Racks? Fires? What flying? boyling? burn-

In Leads, or Oyles ? What old, or new torture
(Ming,

Muſt I receive ? whose very word deſerves

To taſt of thy moſt worſt. Thy tyranny

(Together working with thy Jealousies,

Fancies too weak for Boyes, too green and idle

For Girles of Nine) O think what they have done ;

And then run mad indeed: ſtark-mad: for all

Thy by-gone fooleries were but ſpices for it.

That thou betrayed'ſt Polixenes, 'was nothing,

(That did but ſhew thee, of a Fool, inconſtant,

And damnable ingrateful :) Nor was't much.

Thou would'ſt have poyſon'd good Camillo's Honour,

To have him kill a King: poor Trepſaſſes,

More monſtrous standing by: whereof I reckon

The caſing forth to Crowes, the Baby-daughter,

To be or none, or little; though a Devil

Would have ſhed water out of fire, ere don't:

Nor is't directly laid to thee, the death

Of the young Prince, whose honourable thoughts

(Thoughts high for one ſo tender) cleft the heart

That could conceive a groſs and foolish ſire

Blemiſh'd his gracious Dam: this is not, no,

Laid to thy anſwer: but the laſt: O Lords,

When I have ſaid, cry woe: the Queen, the Queen,

The

["288", "The Winters Tale.", "The sweet'ft, dear'ft creature's dead: and vengeance for't\nNot drop'd down yet.", "Lord. The higher powers forbid.", "Pau. I say thee's dead: Ile fwear't. If word, nor oath\nPrevail not, go and fee: if you can bring", "Tincture, or luftre in her lip, her eye", "Hear outwardly, or breath within, Ile ferve you", "As I would do the Gods. But, O thou Tyrant,", "Doft not repent thefe things, for they are heavier", "Then all thy woes can fit: therefore betake thee", "To nothing but defpair. A thoufand knees,", "Ten thoufand years together, naked, fafting,", "Upon a barren Mountain, and fill Winter", "In form perpetual, could not move the Gods", "To look that way thou wer't.", "Leo. Go on, go on :", "Thou canst not speak too much, I have deferv'd", "All tongues to talk their bitterest.", "Lord. Say no more,", "How ere the buſineſs goes, you have made fault", "I' th boldneſs of your ſpeech.", "Pau. I am ſorry for't,", "All faults I make, when I ſhall come to know them,", "I do repent: Alas, I have ſhew'd too much", "The rathneſs of a woman: he is toucht", "To th' Noble heart. VVhat's gone, and what's paff help", "Should be paff grief: Do not receive affliction", "At my petition, I befeech you, rather", "Let me be puniſh'd, that have minded you", "Of what you ſhould forget. Now (good my Liege)", "Sir, Royal Sir, forgive a foolish woman :", "The love I bore your Queen (Lo, fool again)", "Ile ſpeak of her no more, nor of your Children :", "Ile not remember you of my own Lord,", "(VVho is loſt too :) take your patience to you,", "And Ile ſay nothing.", "Leo. Thou didst ſpeak but well;", "VVhen moſt the truth: which I receive much better,\nThen to be pitied of thee. Prethee bring me", "To the dead bodies of my Queen and Son,", "One grave ſhall be for both. Upon them ſhall", "The caufes of their death appear (unto", "Our ſtame perpetual ) once a day, Ile viſit", "The Chappel where they lie, and reares ſhed there", "Shall be my recreation. So long as Nature", "VVill bear up with this exerciſe, ſo long", "I dayly vow to uſe it. Come, and lead me", "To theſe ſorrowes.", "Exeunt.", "## Scena Tertia.", "Enter Antigonus, a Mariner, Babe, Sheep-\nheard, and Clown.", "Ant. Thou art perfect then, our ſhip hath toucht upon\nThe Defarts of Bohemia.", "Mar. I (My Lord) and fear", "VVe have Landed in ill time: the skies look grimly,\nAnd threaten prefent bluſters. In my confidence", "The heavens with that we have in hand, are angry,\nAnd frown upon's.", "Ant. Their ſacred wilſ be done; get aboard,\nLook to thy bark, Ile not be long before", "I call upon thee.", "Mar. Make your beſt haſt, and go not\nToo far i' th Land: 'tis like to be loud weather,\nBefames this place is famous for the Creatures\nOf prey, that keep upon't.", "Amig. Go thou away,\nIle follow instantly.", "Mar. I am glad at heart\nTo be forrid o' th buſineſs.", "Exit.", "Ant. Come, poor Babe ;", "I have heard (but not believed') the spirits o' th' dead", "May walk again: if ſuch thing be, thy Mother", "Appear'd to me laſt night: for ne're was dream", "So like a waking. To me comes a creature,", "Sometimes her head is on one ſide, (some other,", "I never ſaw a Veſſel of like forrow", "So fill'd, and ſo becoming: in pure white Rober", "Like very Sanctity ſhe did approach", "My Cabbin where I lay: thrice bow'd before me,", "And (gaping to begin ſome ſpeech) her eyes", "Became two ſpouts; the fury ſpent, anon", "Did this break from her. Good Antigonus,", "Since Fate (againſt thy better diſposition)", "Hath made thy perſon for the thrower-out", "Of my poor Babe, according to thine oath,", "Places remote enough are in Bohemia,", "There weep, and leave it crying: and for the babe", "Is counted loſt for ever, Perdita", "I prethee call't: For this ungentle buſineſs", "Put on thee, by my Lord, thou ne're ſhalt fee", "Thy VVife Paulina more: and ſo, with ſhriekes", "She melted into ayr. Aſſrighted much,", "I did in time collect my ſelf, and thought", "This was ſo, and no flumber: Dreams, are toyes,", "Yet for this once, yea ſuperſitiouſly,", "I will be ſquar'd by this. I do believe", "Hermione hath ſuffer'd death, and that", "Apollo would (this being indeed the ſtife", "Of King Polixenes) it ſhould here be laid", "(Either for life, or death) upon the Earth", "Of it's right Father. Bloſſom, ſpeed thee well,", "There lie, and there thy character: there theſe,", "VVhich may for Fortune pleſe, both breed thee (Pretty)", "And fill reſt thine. The ſtorm begins, poor wretch,", "That for thy Mothers fault, art thus expos'd", "To loſs, and what may follow. VVeepp I cannot,", "But my heart bleeds: and moſt accurſt am I", "To be by Oath enjoyn'd to this. Farewel.", "The day frowns more and more: thou'rt like to have", "A lullaby too rough: I never ſaw", "The heavens ſo dim, by day. A savage clamour I", "VVell may I get a-board: This is the Chace, (hurd)", "I am gone for ever. Exit purſued by a Bear. Enter a Shep.", "Shep. I would there were no age between ten and\nthree and twenty, or that youth would fleep out the reſt:\nfor there is nothing (in the between) but getting wenches\nwith child, wronging the Ancientry, feſtaling, fight-\ning, hark you now: would any but theſe boyld-brains\nof nineteen, and two and twenty hunt this weather?\nThey have ſcarr'd away two of my beſt Sheep, which\nI fear the VVolf will ſooner find then the Maſter:\nif any where I have them, 'tis by the Sea-fide, brou-\nzing of Ivy. Good-luck (and't be the will) what have\nwe here? Mercy on'ns, A Barne ! A very pretty barne;\nA Boy, or a Child I wonder? (A pretty one, a very pretty\none) ſure some Scape: Though I am not bookiſh, yet I", "can", "can rea\nbeen\n door\n poor\n fill\n ho-ho", "Clo.", "Shep.", "talk on", "what a", "Clo.", "but I", "tvixt", "point.", "Clo.", "ges,", "ho", {"bbox": [1084, 512, 1118, 532], "category":

The Winters Tale.

289

can read Waiting-Gentlewoman in the escape: this has
been some fair-work, some Trunk-work, some behind-
door work: they were warmer that got this, then the
poor thing is here. Ile take it up for pity, yet Ile tarry
till my fonne come: he hallow'd but even novv. Whoa-
ho-hoa.

Enter Clow.

Clo. Hillo, loa.

Shep. What? art so neer? If thou'lt fee a thing to
talk on, when thou art dead and rotten, come hither:
what ayl't thou, man?

Clow. I have seen two (such fights, by Sea and by Land:
but I am not to say it is a Sea, for it is novv the skye,
be-
twixt the Firmament and it, you cannot thrust a bodkins
point.

Shep. Why boy, how is it ?

Clo. I would you did but fee howv it chafes, howv it ra-
ges, howv it takes up the shore, but that's not to the point :
On, the moft pitreous cry of the poor fouls, sometimes
to fee'em, and not to fee'em; Now the Ship boring
the Moon with her main Maft, and anon swallowed
with yeft and froth, as you'd thrust a Cork into a hog-
head. And then for the Land-service, To fee how the
Bear toar out his shoulder-bone, how he cry'd to me
for help, and faid his name was *Antigonus* a Nobleman:
But to make an end of the Ship, to fee how the Sea flap-
dragon'd it: but first, how the poor fouls roared, and
the Sea mock'd them: and how the poor Gentleman roa-
red, and the Bear mock'd him, both roaring louder then
the Sea, or Weather.

Shep. Name of mercy; when was this boy ?

Clo. Now, now: I have not wink'd since I saw these
fights: the men are not yet cold under water, nor the
Bear half din'd on the Gentleman: he's at it now.

Shep. Would I had been by to have help'd the old man.

Clow. I would you had been by the ship-fide, to have
help'd her; there your charity would have lack'd no foting.

Shep. Heavy matters, heavy matters: but look thee
here boy. Now bleffe thy self; thou me't with things
dying, I with things new born. Here's a fight for thee:
Look thee, a bearing-cloath for a Squires child: look
thee here, take up, take up, (Boy!) open't: fo, let's fee,
it was told me I should be rich by the Fairies. This is fome
Changeling: open't: what's within boy ?

Clo. You're a mad old man; If the finnes of your
youth are forgiven you, you're well to live. Gold, all
Gold.

Shep. This is Faiery Gold boy, and 'will prove fo: up
with't, keep it clofe: home, home, the next way. We
are lucky (boy) and to be so still requires nothing but
fecrecy. Let my sheep goe: Come (good boy) the next
way home.

Clo. Goe you the next way with your Findings, Ile go
fee if the Bear be gone from the Gentleman, and how
much he hath eaten: they are never curft but when they
are hungry: if there be any of him left, ile bury it.

Shep. That's a good deed: if thou maist discern by
that which is left of him, what he is, fetch me to th' fight
of him.

Clo. *Marry will I: and you shall help to put him
l'th'ground.

Shep. *Tis a lucky day, boy, and wee'l do good deeds
on't.

Exeunt.

Actus Quartus. Scæna Prima.

Enter Time, the Chorus.

Tim. I that please some, try all: both joy and terror
Of good, and bad: that makes, and unfolds errors.
Now take upon me (in the name of Time)
To use my wings: Impute it not a crime
To me, or my twift paflage, that I flide,
O're fixteen years, and leave the growth untride
Of that wide gap, since it is in my power
To orethrow Law, and in one self-born hour
To plant, and ore-whelm Cuftom. Let me paffe
The fame I am, ere ancient it Order was,
Or what is now receiv'd. I witneſſe to
The Times that brought them in, ſo I shall I do
To th'freshſhelt things now reigning, and make ſtale
The gliftering of this prefent, as my Tale
Now feems to it: your patience this allowing,
I turn my glafle, and give my ſcæne ſuch growing
As you had Slept between: *Leontes* leaving
The ſe effects of his ſond jealouſes, ſo greeving
That he fluts up himſelf, imagine me
(Gentle Spectators) that I now may be
In fair *Bohemia*, and remember well,
I mention here a ſonne of th' Kings, which *Florizel*
I now name to you, and with ſpeed ſace to
To ſpeak of *Perdita*, now grown in grace
Equall with wond'ring. What of her infues
I lift not propheſe: but let Times news
Be known when 'tis brought forth. A Shepheards daughter
And what to her adheres, which follows after,
Is th'argument of Time: of this allow,
If ever you have ſpent time worſe, ere now :
If never, yet that Time himſelf doth ſay,
He wifhes earneſtly, you never may.

Exit.

Scæna Secunda.

Enter Polixenes and Camillo.

Pol. I pray thee (good Camillo) be no more importu-
nace: 'tis a fickneſſe denying thee any thing: a death to
grant this.

Cam. It is fifteen years firſe I saw my Countrey :
though I have (for the moſt part) been ayred abroad, I
deſire to lay my bones there. Belides, the penitent King
(my Maſter) hath ſent for me, to whose feeling ſorrows
I might be ſome allay (or I oreween to think ſo) which is
another ſpurre to my departure.

Pol. As thou lov'ſt me (Camillo) wipe not out the reſt
of thy ſervices, by leaving me now: the need I have of
thee, thine own goodneſſe hath made: better not to
have had thee, then thus to want thee, thou having made
me Buſneſſes, (which none, (without thee) can ſuffici-
ently mannage) muſt either ſay to execute them thy ſelf,
or take away the very ſervices thou haſt done:
which if I have not enough confidered (as too much I
cannot) to be more thankful to thee, ſhall be my ſu-
dy, and my profit therein, the heaping friendſhipps.
Of that fallt Countrey *Sicilia*, prethee ſpeak no more,
whofe very naming, puniſhes me with the remembrance

B b

of

The Winters Tale.

of that penitent (as thou call'st him) and reconciled King
my brother, whose leſſe of his moſt precious Queen
and Children, are even now to be a-fresh lamented.
Say to me, when faw't thou the Prince Florizel my ſon?
Kings are no leſſe unhappy, their ilſue not being graci-
ous, then they are in looſing them, when they have ap-
proved their vertues.

Cam. Sir, it is three daies since I faw the Prince: what
his happier affairs may be, are to me unknown: but I
have (miffingly) noted, he is of late much retired from
Court: and is leſſe frequent to his Princely exercices then
formerly he hath appeared.

Pol. I have confidered ſo much (Camillo) and with
ſome care, ſo farre, that I have eies under my ſervice,
which look upon his removedneſſe: from whom I have
this intelligence, that he is ſeldom from the houſe of a
moſt homely ſhepheard: a man (they ſay) that from very
nothing, and beyond the imagination of his neighbours,
is grown into an unspeakable eſtate.

Cam. I have heard (Sir) of ſuch a man, who hath a
daughter of moſt rare note: the report of her is exended
more, then can be thought to begin from ſuch a cortage.

Pol. That's likewise part of my intelligence: but (I
fear) the Angle that plucks our ſonne thither. Thou
ſhalt accompany us to the place, where we will (not ap-
pearing what we are) have ſome queſtion with the Shep-
heard; from whoſe ſimplicity, I think it not uneaſe to
get the cauſe of my ſonnes reſort thither. Prethee be my
prefent partner in this buſineſſe, and lay aside the thoughts
of Sicilia.

Cam. I willingly obey your command.

Pol. My belt Camillo, we must disguise our ſelves. Exit.

## Scena Tertia.

Enter Auolicus singing.

When Daffadills begin to peer,
With heigh the Doxy over the dale,
Why then comes in the sweet o'th year,
For the red blood reigns in the winters palo.

The white ſoct bleaching on the hedge,
With key the sweet birds, O how they ſing:
Doth set my pugging tool in an edge,
For a quart of Al is a diſh for a King.

The Lark, that tirra-Lyrachauts,
With heigh, with heigh the Thrush and the lay:
Are Summer ſongs for me and my Aunts
While we lie tumbling in the bay.

I have ſerv'd Prince Florizel, and in my time wore three
pile, but now I am out of ſervice.

But shall I go mourn for that (my dear)
the pale Moon ſhines by night:
And when I wander here and there
I then do meſt goe right.

If Tinkers may have leave to live,
and hear the Sow-skin Bowget,
I then my account I well may give,
and in the Stocks avouch it.

My Traffic is ſheets: when the Kice builds, look to
leſter Linnen. My Father nam'd me Auolicus, who be-

ing (as I am) lytter'd under Mercury, was likewise a
ſnapper-up of unconfidered trifles: With Dye and drab,
I purc'd Caparison, and my Revennew is the filly
Cheat. Gallowes, and Knock, are too powerfull on
the High-way. Beating and hanging are terrors to me:
For the life to come, I ſleep out the thought of it. A
prize, a prize.

Enter Clown.

Clo. Let me fee, every Leaven-weather roddes, every
told yields pound and odde ſhilling: fifteen hundred
thorn, what comes the wooll to?

Aut. If the ſprinde hold, the Cock's mine.

Clo. I cannot do it without Compters. Let me fee,
what am I to buy for our Sheep-shearing-Feaſt? Three
pound of Sugar, five pound of Currenct, Rice: What
will this Sifter of mine do with Rice ? but my father hath
made her Miftrifs of the Feaſt, and the laies it on. She
hath made me four and twenty Nofe-gays for the ſhea-
ters (three-man ſong-men, all, and very good ones) but
they are moſt of them Means and Bites; but one Puri-
tan amongst them, and he flags Pſalms to horn-Pipes.
I muſt have Saffron to colour the Warden Pies, Mace:
Dates, none: that's out of my note: Nutmegs, ſeven,
a Race or two of Ginger, but that I may begge: Four
pound of Prewyns, and as many of Reasons o'th Sun.

Aut. Oh, that ever I was born.

Clo. I' th name of me.

Aut. Oh help me, help me: pluck but off theſe raggs:
and then, death, death.

Clo. Alack poor ſoul, thou haſt need of more rags to
lay on thee, rather than have theſe off.

Aut. Oh ſir, the loathſomneſſe of them offends me,
more then the ſtripes I have received, which are mighty
ones and millions,

Clo. Alas poor man, a million of beating may come to
a great matter.

Aut. I am rob'd fir, and beaten: my money, and ap-
parrel tane from me, and theſe dereſtable things put up-
on me.

Clo. What, by a horſe-man, or a foot-man?

Aut. A foot-man (ſweet fir) a foot-man.

Clo. Indeed, he ſhould be a foot-man, by the garments
he has left with thee: if this be a horſemans Coat, it
hath ſeen very hot ſervice. Lend me thy hand, ile help
thee. Come lend me thy hand.

Aut. Oh good fir, tenderly, oh.

Clo. Alas poor ſoul.

Aut. Oh good fir, ſoftely, good fir: I fear (fir) my
shoulder-blade is out.

Clo. How now? canſt land?

Aut. Softly, deer fir; good fir, ſoftely: you ha done
me a charitable office.

Clo. Doth lack any money ? I have a little money for
thee.

Aut. No, good ſweet fir: no, I beſech you fir: I
have a kinfman nor paſt three quarters of a mile hence,
unto whom I was going: I ſhall there have money, or
any thing I want: Oſer me no money I pray you, that
kills my heart.

Clo. What manner of Fellow was he that robb'd
you?

Aut. A fellow (Sir) that I have known to go about
with Troll-my-dames: I knew him once: a ſervant
of the Prince: I cannot tell good fir, for which of his
Vertues it was, but he was certainly Whipt out of the
Court.

Clo.

The Winters Tale.

291

Clo. His vices you would fay : there's no vertue whipt
out of the Court : they cherifh it to make it fay there;
and yet it will no more but abide.

Ant. Vices I would fay (Sir.) I know this man well,
he hath been ſince an Ape-bearer, then a Proceſs-ferer,
(a Bailiffe) then he compaſt a Motion of the Prodigal
fon, and married a Tinkers wife, within a mile where
my Land and living lies; and ( having flown over many
knavil ſproſſions ) heſetled only in Rogue: ſome call
him Autolicus.

Clo. Our upon him : Prig, for my life Prig : he haunts
VVakes, Fairs, and Bear-baitings.

Ant. Very true fir : he fir he : that's the Rogue that
put me into this apparel.

Clo. Not a more cowardly Rogue in all Bohemia; If
you had but look'd big, and ſpit at him, hee'd have
run.

Ant. I muſt confefs to you (fir) I am no fighter : I am
ſalfe of heart that way, and that he knew I warrant him.

Clo. How do you now ?

Ant. Sweet Sir, much better then I was : I can ſtand,
and walk : I will even take my leave of you, and pace ſoft-
ly towards my Kinſmans.

Clo. Shall I bring thee on the way ?

Ant. No, good fac'd fir, no sweet fir.

Clo. Then farewel, I muſt go to buy Spices for our
Sheep-ſhearing. Exit.

Ant. Proſper you sweet fir. Your Purſe is not hot e-
nough to purchase your Spice. He be with you at your
Sheep-ſhearing too : If I make not this Cheat bring out
another, and the ſhearers prove ſheep, let me be unrold, and
my name put in the book of Verne.

Song. Jog-on, Jog-on, the foot-path way
And merrily heuſt the Stile-a.
A Merry heart goes all the day,
Your sad tires in a Mile-a
Exit.

## Scena Quarta.

Enter Florizel, Perdita, Shepherd, Clown, Polixenes,
Camillo, Mopfa, Dorcas, Servants, Autolicus.

Flor. Theſe your unſual weeds to each part of you
Do's give a life : no Shepherdeſs, but Flora
Peering in Aprils front. This your ſheep-ſhearing,
Is as a merry meeting of the petty gods,
And you the Queen on't.

Per. Sir: my gracious Lord,
To chide at your extreames, it not becomes me :
(Oh pardon, that I name them:) your high ſelf
The gracious mark o'th' Land, you have obſcur'd
With a Swaines wearing: and me (poor lowly Maid)
Moft goddeſs-like prank'd up: But that our Feaſts
In every Meſs, have folly ; and the Feeders
Difſeſt it with a Cuſtom, I should bluſh
To fee you so attyr'd: ſworn I think,
To ſhew my ſelf a glaſs.

Flor. I bleſſe the time
VVhen my good Falcon, made her flight a-croſ
Thy Fathers ground.
Per. Now Jove afford you cauſe :
To me the difference forges dread (your Greatneſs

Hath not been us'd to fear:) even now I tremble
To think your Father, by ſome accident
Should pafs this way, as you did: Oh the Fates,
How would he look, to fee his work, ſo noble,
Vildely bound up? VVhat would he ſay? Or how
Should I (in theſe my borrowed Flaunts ) behold
The ſternneſs of his prefence?

Flor. Apprehend
Nothing but jollity : the Gods themſelves
(Humbling their Deities to love) have taken
The Shapes of Beaſts upon them. Jupiter
Became a Bull, and bellow'd : the green Neptun
A Ram, and bleated : and the Fire-roab'd-God
Golden Apollo, a poor humble ſwain,
As I ſeem now. Their transformations,
Were never for a piece of Beauty, rarer,
Nor in a way ſo chaſt: ſince my defires
Run not before mine Honour: nor my luſts
Burn hotter then my Faith.

Perd. O but dear fir,
Your reſolution cannot hold, when 'tis
Oppos'd (as it muſt be) by the power of the King.
One of theſe two muſt be neceſſities,
Which then will ſpeak, that you muſt change this pur-
Or I my life. (poxe,

Flor. Thou deareft Perdita,
With theſe ſorc'd thoughts, I prethee darken not
The Mirth o'th' Feaſt: Or Ile be thine (my Fair)
Or not my Fathers. For I cannot be
Mine own, nor any thing to any, if
I be not thine. To this I am moſt conſant,
Though Dettiny ſay no. Be merry (Gentle)
Strangle ſuch thoughts as theſe, with any thing
That you behold the while. Your Gueſts are coming :
Lift up your countenance, as it were the day
Of celebration of that Nuptial, which
We two have ſworn ſhall come.

Perd. O Lady Fortune,
Stand you auſpicious.

Flor. See, your Gueſts approach,
Addrefs your ſelf to entertain them ſprightely,
And let's be red with mirth.

Shep. Fye (daughter) when my old wife liv'd: upon
This day, he was both Pantler, Butler, Cook,
Both Dame and Servant: Welcom'd all: ſerv'd all,
Would ſing her Song, and dance her turn: now here
At upper end o'th' Table; now, i'th middle:
On his shoulder, and his: her face o'fire
With labour, and the thing ſhe took to quench it
She would to each one ſip. You are retired,
As if you were a ſeated one: and not
The Hoſſeſs of the meeting: Pray you bid
Theſe unknown friends to's welcome, for it is
A way to make us better Friends, more known.
Come, quench your bluſhes, and preſent your ſelf
That which you are, Miftris o'th' Feaſt. Come on,
And bid us welcome to your ſheep-ſhearing,
As your good flock ſhall proſper.

Perd. Sir, welcome :
It is my Fathers will, I should take on me
The Hoſſeſſhip o'th' day, you're welcome fir,
Give me thofe Flowers there (Dorcas.) Reverend Sirs,
For you, there's Roſemary, and Rue, theſe keep
Seeming, and favour all the Winter long :
Grace, and Remembrance be to you both,
And welcome to our Shearing.

Bb 2

Pol.

The Winters Tale.

292

Pol. Shepherdess,
(A fair one are you: well you fit our ages
With flowers of Winter.

Perd. Sir, the year growing ancient,
Not yet on funerals death, nor on the birth
Of trembling winter, the fairest flowers o'ch season
Are our Carnations, and freakt Gilly-vors,
(Which some call Natures baftards) of that kind
Our ruftick Garden's barren, and I care not
To get flips of them.

Pol. VWherefore (gentle Maiden)
Do you neglect them.

Perd. For I have heard it said,
There is an Art, which in their pidenefs shares
With great creating-Nature.

Pol. Say there be :

Yet Nature is made better by no mean,
But Nature makes that Mean : so over that Art
(VVwhich you fay addes to Nature) is an Art
That Nature makes : you fee (sweet Maid) we marry
A gentler Sien, to the wildest Stock,
And make conceive a bark of bafer kind
By bud of Nobler race. This is an Art
VWhich do's mend Nature : change it rather, but
The Art it felf, is Nature.

Per. So it is.

Pol. Then make your Garden rich in Gilly'vors,
And do not call them baftards.

Per. He not put

The Dible in earth, to fer one flip of them :
No more then were I painted, I would with
This youth should fay'wer well: and only therefore
Defire to breed by me. Here's flowers for you :
Hot Lavender, Mints, Sivory, Marjorum,
The Mary-gold, that goes to bed with Sun,
And with him rifes, weeping: These are Flowers
Of middle Summer, and I think they are given
To men of middle age. Yare very welcome.

Cams. I should leave grazing, were I of your flock,
And only live by gazing.

Per. Our alas :
You'd be so lean, that blasfs of January
Friend,
VWould blow you through and through. Now (my fair
I would I had fome Flowers o'th Spring, that might

Become your time of day: and yours, and yours,
That wear upon your Virgin-branches yet

Your Maiden-heads growing : O Proferpina,
For the Flowers now, that (frighted) thou let't fall

From Diffes VVaggon: Daffadils,

That come before the Swallow dares, and take

The winds of March with beauty : Violets (dim

But sweeter then the lids of Juno's eyes,

Or Cytherea's breath) pale prime-roses,

That die unmarried, ere they can behold

Bright Phæbus in his strength (a Malady

Moft incident to Maids:) bold Oxlips, and

The Crown imperial: Lillies of all kinds,

(The flowre-de-Luce being one.) O, these I lack,
To make you Girlands of) and my sweet friend,
To flrew him or'e, and or'e.

Fls. VWhat ? like a Coarfe ?

Per. No, like a bank, for Love to lye, and play on :
Not like a Coarfe: or if: not to be buried,
But quick, and in mine armes. Come take your flowers,
Methinkes I play, as I have seen them do
In VVhitson-pallorals: Sure this Robe of mine

Do's change my difpoition :

Fls. VWhat you do,

Still betters what is done. VVnen you speak (sweet)

296

The Winters Tale.

She shall be habited, as it becomes

The partner of your Bed. Methinkes I see

Leomes opening his free Armes, and weeping

His Welcomes forth: askes thee the Son forgiveneſs,

As 'twere i'th' Fathers person: kiffes the hands

Of your freth Princes: ore and ore divides him,

'Twixt his unkindneſs, and his kindneſs: th' one

He chides to Hell, and bids the other grow

After than Thought, or Time.

Flor. Worthy Camillo,

What colour for my Vifitation, shall I

Hold up before him ?

Cam. Sent by the King your Father.

To greet him, and to give him comforts. Sir,

The manner of your bearing towards him, with

What you (as from your Father) ſhall deliver,

Things known betwixt us three, Ile write you down,

The which ſhall point you forth at every fitting

What you muſt ſay, that he ſhall not perceive,

But that you have your Fathers Bofom there,

And ſpeak his very heart.

Flor. I am bound to you :

There is ſome ſap in this.

Cam. A Courſe more promiſing,

Then a wild dedication of your ſelves

Tounpath'd waters, undream'd Shores; moſt certain,

To Miſeries enough: no hope to help you,

But as you ſake off one, to take another :

Nothing ſo certain, as your Anchors, who

Do their beſt office, if they can but ſtay you,

Where you'll be loath to be: beſides you know,

Proſperty's the very bond of Love,

Whose freſh complexion, and whole heart together,

Afflіction alters.

Per. One of theſe is true :

I think Afflіction may ſubdue the Cheek,

But not take-in the Mind.

Cam. Yea, ſay you ſo ?

There ſhall not, at your Fathers houſe, theſe ſeven yeares

Be born another ſuch.

Flor. My good Camillo,

She's as forward, of her Breeding, as

She is i'th' reare 'our birth.

Cam. I cannot ſay, 'tis pitty

She lackes inſtructions, for she ſeemes a Miſtref's

To moſt that teach.

Per. Your pardon Sir, for this.

Ile bluſh you thankes.

Flor. My prettie Perdita.

But O, the Thornes we ſtand upon : (Camillo)

Preſerver of my Father, now of me,

The Medicine of our Houſe: how ſhall we do ?

We are not furniſh'd like Behemia's Son,

Nor ſhall appear in Sicily.

Cam. My Lord,

Fear none of this: I think you know my fortunes

Do all lie there: It ſhall be ſo my care

To have you royally appointed, as if

The Scene you play, were mine. For inſtance, Sir,

That you may know you ſhall not want; one word.

Enter Amolichus.

Ant. H2, h3, what a fool Honesty is ? and Truſt (his
(fawn brother) a very ſimple Gentleman. I have ſold all
my Trumpery : not a counterfeit Stone, not a Ribbon,
Glafs, Pomander, Browch, Table-book, Ballad, Knife,
Tape, Glove, Shoe-tye, Bracelet, Horne-Ring, to keep

my Pack from faſtning: they throng who ſhould buy
ſirt, as if my Trinkets had been hallowed, and brought
a benediction to the buyer; by which means, I ſaw
whofe Purſe was beſt in Picture; and what I ſaw, to my
good uſe, I remembred. My Clown (who wants but
lomething to be a reaſonable man) grew ſo in love with
the Wenches Song, that he would not ſir his Perytoes
till he had both Tune and Words, which ſo drew the
reſt of the Heard to me, that all their other Sences ſuck
in Eares: you might have pinch'd a Placker, it was ſence-
leſs, 'twas nothing to geld a Cod-piece of a Purſe: I
would have ſil'd Keyes off that hung in Chaynes: no
hearing, no feeling, but my Sirs Song, and admiring
the nothing of it. So that in this time of Lethargy, I
pick't and cut moſt of their Feflival Purſes: And had
not the old man come in with a Whoo-bub against his
Daughter, and the Kings Son, and ſear'd my chowghes
from the Chaffe, I had not left a Purſe alive in the whole
Army.

Cam. Nay, but my Letters by this means being there

So ſoon as you arrive, ſhall clear that doubt.

Flor. And thatof you ſtill procure from King Leomes ?

Cam. Shall I ſatisfy your Father.

Perd. Happy be you :

All that you ſpeak, thewes fair.

Cam. Who have we here ?

Wee'd make an Inſtrument of this: omne

Nothing may give us ayd.

Ant. If they have over-heard me now: why hanging,

Cam. How now (Good-Fellow)

Why thatk't thou ſo? Fear not (man)

Here's no harm intended to thee.

Ant. I am a poor Fellow, Sir.

Cam. Why, be ſo ſtill: here's no body will ſle that
from thee: yet for the outſide of thy poverty, we muſt
make an exchange: therefore diſcaſe thee inſtantly (thou
muſt think there's a neceſſity in't) and change garments
with this Gentleman: that the pery-worth (on his ſide)
be the worſt, yet hold thee, there's ſome boot.

Ant. I am a poor Fellow, Sir, (I know ye well
nough.)

Cam. Nay prethee diſpatch: the Gentleman is half ſled
already.

Ant. Are you in earneſt, Sir? (I ſmell the trickon.)

Flor. Diſpatch, I prethee.

Ant. Indeed I have had earneſt, but I cannot with
conſience take it.

Cam. Unbuckle, unbuckle.

Fortunate Miſtref's (let my prophecy

Come home to ye:) you muſt retire your ſelf

Into ſome Cover; take your ſweet-hearts Hat

And pluck it ore your Browes, muffle your ſace,

Difmantle you, and (as you can) diſliken

The truth of your own ſeeming, that you may

(For I do fear eyes over ) to Ship-board

Get undefeſc'd.

Per. I ſee the Play ſo lies,

That I muſt bear a part.

Cam. No remedy :

Have you done there?

Flor. Should I now meet my Father,

He would not call me Son.

Cam. Nay, you ſhall have no Hat.

Come Lady, come: Farewell (my friend.)

Ant. Adieu, Sir.

Flor. O Perdita: what have we twain forgot ?

*Pray

The Winters Tale.

297

*Pray you a word.*

*Cam.* What I do next, shall be to tell the King
Of this escape, and whither they are bound;

Wherein, my hope is, I shall so prevail,

To force him after : in whose company

I shall review *Sicilia*; for whose fight,

I have a womans Longing.

*Flo.* Fortune speed us :

Thus we set on (*Camillo*) to th'Sea-fide.

*Cam.* The twiffler speed, the better.

*Exit.*

*Aut.* I understand the bufinefle, I hear it : to have an open ear, a quick eye, and a nimble hand, is neceffary for a Cut-purfe ; a good Noſe is requisite alſo, to ſmell out work for th'other Sences. I fee this is the time that the unjuſt man doth thrive. What an exchange had this been, without boot ? What a boot is here, with this exchange; Sure the Gods do this year connive at us, and we may doe any thing ex tempore. The Prince himſelf is about a piece of iniquity (healing away from his Father, with his Clog at his heels :) if I thought it were a piece of hoſtneſt to acquaint the King withall, I would not do't: I hold it the more knavery to conceal it; and therein am I conſtant to my Proſeption.

*Enter Clown and Shepheard.*

Aſide, aſide, here's more matter for a hor brain : Every Lanes end, every Shop, Church, Seſſion, Hanging yields a careful man work.

*Clown.* See, fee: what a man you are now ? there is no other way, but to tell the King ſhe's a Changling, and none of your fleſh and blood.

*Shep.* Nay, but hear me.

*Clow.* Nay, but hear me.

*Shep.* Goe to then.

*Clow.* She being none of your fleſh and blood, your fleſh and blood has not offended the King, and ſo your fleſh and blood is not to be puniſh'd by him. Shew thate things you found about her (thoſe ſecret things, all but what ſhe has with her:) This being done, let the Law goe whiſle : I warrant you.

*Shep.* I will tell the King all, every word, yea, and his Sons pranks too; who, I may ſay, is no honest man, neither to his Father, nor to me, to goe about to make me the Kings Brother in Law.

*Clow.* Indeed Brother in Law was the fartheſt off you could have been to him, and then your Blood had been the dearer, by I know how much an ounce.

*Aut.* Very wifely (Puppies)

*Shep.* Well: let us to the King: there is that in this Fartheſt, will make him scratch his Beard.

*Aut.* I know not what impediment this complaint may be to the flight of my Maſter.

*Clo.* 'Pray heartily he be at Pallace.

*Aut.* Though I am not naturally honest, I am ſo ſom- times by chance: Let me pocket up my Pedlers excer- ment. How now (Ruſtiques) whither are you Bound ?

*Shep.* To th'Pallace (and it like your Worſhip.)

*Aut.* Your affairs there ? what ? with whom ? the conditi- on of that Fartheſt ? the place of your dwelling ? your names ? your ages ? of what having ? breeding, and any thing that is fitting to be known, diſcover ?

*Clo.* We are but plain fellows, Sir.

*Aut.* A Lye: you are rough, and hairy: Let me have no lying; it becomes none but Tradef-men, and they of- ten give us (Souldiers) the Lie, but we pay them for it with ramped Coine, not ſtabbing Steel, therefore they doe not give us the Lye.

*Clo.* Your Worſhip had like to have given us one, if you had not taken your ſelf with the manners.

*Shep.* Are you a Courtier, and't like you Sir ?

*Aut.* Whether it like me, or no, I am a Courtier. See ſeeth thou not the ayr of the Court, in these enfoldings ? hath not my gate in it, the meaſure of the Court ? Receives not thy Noſe Court-Odour from me ? Reſ reflecting I not on thy Baſeneſle, Court-contempt ? Think'ſt thou, for that I infuſinate, or toaze from thee thy buſineſſe, I am there- fore no Courtier ? I am Courtier Cap-a-pe; and one that will either push-on, or pluck-back, thy buſineſſe there : whereupon I command thee to open thy affair.

*Shep.* My buſineſſe, Sir, is to the King.

*Aut.* What Advocate haſt thou to him ?

*Shep.* I know not, (and't like you.)

*Clo.* Advocate's the Court-word for a Pheazant: ſay you have none.

*Shep.* None, Sir: I have no Pheazant Cock, nor Hen.

*Aut.* How bleſſed are we, that are not ſimple men ? Yet Nature might have made me as these are, Therefore I will not diſdain.

*Clo.* This cannot be but a great Courtier.

*Shep.* His Garments are rich, but he wears them not hand-fomly.

*Clo.* He ſeems to be the more Noble in being ſantafac- call: a great man, ile warrant; I know by the picking on's teeth.

*Aut.* The Fartheſt there ? What's i'th' Fartheſt ? Wherefore that Box?

*Shep.* Sir, there lies ſuch ſecrets in this Fartheſt and Box, which none muſt know but the King, and which he shall know within this hour, If I may come to th'ſpeech of him.

*Aut.* Age, thou haſt loſt thy labour.

*Shep.* Why Sir?

*Aut.* The King is not at the Pallace, he is gone aboard a new Ship, to purge Melancholly, and ayr himself ſ: for if thou bee'ſt capable of things ſerious, thou muſt know the King is full of grief.

*Shep.* So it is ſaid (Sir:) about his Sonne that should have married a Shepheards daughter.

*Aut.* If that Shepheard be not in hand-ſaſt, let him flye ; the Curſes he ſhall have, the Tortures he ſhall feel, will break the back of Man, the heart of Monſter.

*Clo.* Think you ſo, Sir ?

*Aut.* Not he alone ſhall ſuffer what Wit can make heavy, and vengeance bitter; but thoſe that are Jermain to him (though remov'd ſifty times) ſhall all come under the Hangman: which, though it be great pitty, yet it is neceſſary. An old Sheep-whiffling Rogue, a Ram-ten- der, to offer to have his Daughter come into grace? Some ſay he ſhall be ſon'd : but that death is too ſoft for him (ſay I:) Draw our Throſe into a Sheep-Coat? all deaths are too ſew, the ſharpeſt too eafie.

*Clo.* Ha's the old man ere a Son Sir (do you hear) and't like you, Sir.

*Aut.* He ha's a Son: who ſhall be ſlay'd alive, then 'nointed over with honey, ſet on the Head of a Wafpes Neſt, then ſtand till he be three quarters and a dram dead; then recover'd again with *Aqua-vite*, or some other hot Inſuſion; then, raw as he is (& in the hoteſt day Progno- ſtification proclaimes) ſhall he ſet againſt a Brick-wall (the Sunne looking with a South-ward eye upon him; where he is to behold him, with Flies blown to death.) But what talk we of theſe Traitorry-Raſcals, whose mi- feries are to be ſmil'd at, their offences being ſo capital?

Tell

The Winters Tale.

Tell me (for you seem to be honest plain men) what you
have to the King: being something gently confider'd, He
bring you where he is aboord, tender your perons to his
prefence, whisper him in your behalfe; and if it be in
man, befides the King, to effect your Suits, here is a man
shall do it.

Clo. He seems to be of great authority: close with him, give him Gold; and though authority be a flubborn Bear, yet he is oft led by the Nofe with Gold: then the in-fide of your Purse to the out-fide of his hand, and no more adoe. Remember flon'd and fly'd alive.

Shep. And't please you (Sir) to undertake the buſineſſe for us; here is that Gold I have: He make it as much more, and leave this young man in pawn till I bring it you.

Aut. After I have done what I promised?

Shep. I Sir.

Aut. Well, give me the moity: are you a party in this buſineſſe?

Clo. In ſome fort, Sir: but though my caſe be a pitſilful one, I hope I shall not be fly'd out of it.

Aut. Oh that's the caſe of the Shepheards Sonne: hang him, he'll be made an example.

Clo. Comfort, good comfort: We must to the King, and then our ſtrange fights: he must know 'tis none of your Daughter, nor my Sifter: we are gone else. Sir, I will give you as much as this old man do's, when the buſineſſe is performed, and remain (as he faies) your pawn till it be brought you.

Aut. I will truſt you, walk before toward the Seaſide, goe on the right hand, I will but look upon the Hedge, and follow you.

Clo. We are bleſſ'd, in this man: as I may ſay, even bleſſ'd.

Shep. Let's before, as he bids us: he was provided to do us good.

Exeunt.

Aut. If I had a mind to be honest, I ſee Fortune would not ſuffer me: ſhe drops Booties in my mouth. I am courted now with a double occasion: (gold, and a means to doe the Prince my Maſter good: which, who knows how that may turn back to my advancement?) I will bring theſe two Moales, theſe blind ones, aboard him, if he think it fit to hoare them again, and that the Complaintant they have to the King, concerns him nothing, let him call me Rogue, for being so farre ofſicious, for I am proof against that Title, and what ſhame else belongs too't: To him will I prefent them, there may be matter in it.

Exeunt.

Actus Quintus. Scæna Prima.

Emer Leontes, Cleomines, Dion, Paulina, Servants Florizel, Perdita.

Clea. Sir, you have done enough, and have perform'd
A Saint-like Sonnow: No ſault could you make,
Which you have not redeem'd; indeed pay'd down
More penitence, then done trepauls: at the laſt
Doe, as the Heavens have done; forget your evil,
With them, forgive your ſelf.

Leo. Whilett I remember
Her and her vertues, I cannot forget

My blemiſhes in them, and ſo fill think of
The wrong I did my ſelf: which was ſo much,
That Heir-leſſe it hath made my Kingdom, and
Defroy'd the ſweet it companion, that ere man
Bred his hopes out of, true.

Paul. Too true (my Lord :)

If one by one, you wedded all the world,
Or from the All that are, took ſomething good,
To make a perfect woman; ſhe you kill'd,
Would be unparallel'd.

Leo. I think so. Killed?
She I kill'd ? I did so, but thou ftrick'st me
Sorely, to ſay I did, it is as bitter
Upon thy tongue, as in my thought. Now, good now,
Say so but ſeldom.

Clo. Not at all, good Lady:
You might have ſpoken a thousand things, that would
Have done the time more benefit, and grac'd
Your kindneſſe better.

Pau. You are one of these

Would have him wed again.

Dio. If you would not, no,
You pitfy not the State, nor the Remembrance
Of his moſt Soveraign Name: Confider little,
What dangers, by his Highneſſe fail of influence,
May drop upon his Kingdom, and devour
Uncertain lookers on. What were more holy,
Then to rejoyce the former Queen is well?

What holyer, then for Royalties repair,
For preſent comfort, and for future good,
To bletle the Bed of Majeſty again
With a ſweet fellow too't?

Paul. There is none worthy,
(Respecting her that's gone:) ſeudes the Gods
Will have fulfil'd their ſecreer purpofes:
For has not the Divine Apollo ſaid?
Is't not the tenor of his Oracle,
That King Leontes shall not have an Heir,
Till his loſt Child be found? Which, that it shall,
Is all as monſtrous to our humane reafon,
As my Antigonus to break his Grave,
And come again to me: who, on my life,
Did perſish with the Infant. 'Tis your Councell,
My Lord ſhould to the Heavens be contrary,
Oppofe againſt their wills. Care not for influence,
The Crown will find an Heir. Great Alexander
Left his to th'Worthieſt: ſo his Succeſſor
Was like to be the beſt.

Leo. Good Paulina,
Who haſt the memory of Hermonies
I know in honour: O, that ever I
Had ſquar'd me to thy Councell: then, even now,
I might have ſook'd upon my Queens full eies,
Have taken Treſoure from her Lips.

Pau. And left them
More rich, for what they yielded.

Leo. Thou ſpeak'st it truth:
No more ſuch wives, therefore no wife: one work,
And better us'd, would make her Sainted Spirit
Again poffeſſe her Corps, and on this Stage
(Where we offenders now appear) Soul-vest,
And begin, why to me;

Paul. Had ſhe ſuch power,
She had juſt caufe.

Leo. She had, and would incenſe me
To murther her I married.

Paul.

The Winters Tale.

299

Paul. I should so:
Were I the Ghost that walk'd, I'd bid you mark
Her eye, and tell me for what dull part in't
You chose her: then I'd friek, that even your eyes
Should rift to hear me, and the words that follow'd,
Should be, Remember mine.
Leo. Stars, Stars,
And all eyes else, dead coles: fear thou no Wife;
Ile have no Wife, Paulina.
Paul. Will you fwear

Never to marry, but by my free leave ?
Leo. Never (*Paulina*) to be blefs'd my Spirit.
Paul. Then good my Lords, bear witness to his oath.
Leo. You tempt him over-much.
Paul. Unlefs another,
As like Hermione, as is her picture,
Afront his eye.

Cleo. Good Madam, I have done.
Paul. Yet if my Lord will marry : if you will, Sir;
No remedy but you will : Give me the office

To chufe you a Queen : she shall not be so young
As was your former, but she shall be such

As (walk'd your first Queenes Ghoſt) it ſhould take joy
To fee her in your arms.

Leo. My true Paulina,

We shall not marry, till thou bidſt us.
Paul. That

Shall be when your first Queen's again in breath :
Never till then.

Enter a Servant.

Ser. One that gives out himself Prince Florizel,
Son of Polixenes, with his Princes (he
The faireſt I have yet beheld) deſires acces
To your high prefence.

Leo. What with him ? he comes not
Like to his Fathers Greatneſs : his approach
(So out of circumſtance, and fudden) tells us,
'Is not a Vifitation i'ram'd, but fore'd
By need, and accident. What Trayn ?

Ser. But few,
And thofe but mean.

Leo. His Princes (lay you) with him ?

Ser. I: the moſt peerleſs piece of Earth, I think,
That ere the Sun ſhone bright on.

Paul. Oh Hermione,

As every preſent Time doth boast it ſelf
Above a better, gone; ſo muſt thy Grave
Give way to what's been now. Sir, you your ſelf
Have faid, and writ ſo; but your writing now
Is colder then that Theam: ſhe had not been,
Nor was not to be equal'd, thus your Verſe
Flow'd with her Beauty once, 'tis ſhrewdly ebb'd,
To ſay you have been a better.

Ser. Pardon, Madam :

The one, I have almost forgot (your pardon):
The other, when the ha's obtain'd your Eye,
Will have your Tongue too. This is a Creature,
Would the begin a ſeet, might quench the zeal
Of all Proſeſors eſſe; make Proſelytes
Of who the but bid follow.

Paul. How? not women?

Ser. Women will love her, that he is a woman
More worth then any Man : Men, that he is
The rareſt of all Women.

Leo. Goe Cleomines,

Your ſelf (affiſted with your honour'd friends)

Bring them to our embracements. Still 'tis ſtrange,
He thus ſhould ſtell upon us.
Paul. Had our Prince,

(Jewel of Children) ſeen this hour, he had pay'd
Well with this Lord; there was not a full moneth
Between their births.

Leo. 'Prethee no more; ceaſe: thou knowſt
He dies to me again, when talk'd-of: fire
When I ſhall fee this Gentleman, thy ſpeeches
VWill bring me to confider that, which may
Unfurniſh me of Reſon. They are come.

Enter Florizel, Perdita, Cleomines, and others.

Your Mother was moſt true to wedlock, Prince,
For he did print your Royal Father off,
Conceiving you. VVere I but twenty one,
Your Fathers Image is ſo hit in you,
(His very air) that I should call you Brother,
As I did him, and ſpeak of ſomething wildly
By us perform'd before. Moſt dearly welcome,
And your fair Princes (Goddeſs) oh: alas,
I loſt a couple, that 'twixt Heaven and Earth
Might thus have blood, begetting wonder, as
You (gracious Couple) do: and then I loſt
(All mine own Folly) the Society,
Amity too of your brave Father, whom
(Though bearing Mifery) I deſire my life
Once more to look on him.

Florizel. By his command

Have I here touch'd Sicilia, and from him
Give you all greetings, that a King (as friend)
Can ſend his Brother : and but infirmity

(VWhich waits upon worn times) hath ſomething ſeiz'd
His with'd Ability, he had himself
The Lands and Waters, 'twixt your Throne and his
Meaſur'd, to look upon you; whom he loves
(He bad me ſay ſo) more then all the Scepters,
And thofe that bear them, living.

Leo. Oh my brother,
(Good Gentleman) the wrongs I have done thee, ſirre
Aſſure within me: and theſe thy offices
(So rarely kind) are as Interpreters
Of my behind-hand ſlackneſs. VWelcome hither,
As is the Spring to th' Earth. And hath he too
Expos'd this Paragon to th' fearful ſuſage
(At least ungentle) of the dreadful Neptune,
To greet a man, not worth her painſes; much leſſ,
Th' adventure of her perſon ?

Florizel. Good my Lord,
She came from Lybia.

Leo. VWhere the warlike ſtalpeſt,
That Noble honour'd Lord, is fear'd, and lov'd ?
Florizel. Moſt Royal Sir,

From thence: from him, whose Daughters
His Teares proclaim'd his parting with her: thence
(A pROPEROUS South-wind friendly) we have croſ'd,
To execute the Charge my Father gave me,
For viſiting your Highneſs: my beſt Train
I have from your Sicilian Shores diſmiſ'd;
Wao for Bohemia bend, to ſignifie
Not only my ſucceſs in Lybia (fir)
But my arrival, and my Wives, in ſafetey
Here, where we are.

Leo. The bleſſed Gods

Purge all inſection from our Ayr, whileſt you
Do Climate here: you have a holy Father,
A graceful Gentleman, against whose perſon

(So

Paul.

The Winters Tale.

300

(So sacred as it is) I have done fin,
For which the Heavens (taking angry note)
Have left me Ille-lefs : and your Father's blefs'd
(As he from Heaven merits it) with you,
Worthy his goodnefs. What might I have been,
Might I a Son and Daughter now have look'd on,
Such goodly things as you?

*Enter a Lord.*

Lord. Moft Noble Sir,
That which I shall report will bear no credit,
Were not the proof so nigh. Pleafe you (great Sir)
Bohemia greets you from himself, by me :
Defires you to attach his Son, who h'as
(His Dignity, and Duty both caft off)
Fled from his Father, from his Hopes, and with
A Shepheards Daughter.

Leo. Where's Bohemia ? I speak.

Lor. Here in your City : I now came from him.
I speak amazedly, and it becomes
My marvel, and my Meffage. To your Court
Whiles he was haftning (in the Chafe, it seems,
Of this fair Couple) meets he on the way
The Father of this feeming Lady, and
Her Brother, having both their Countrey quicct,
With this young Prince.

Flor. Camillo ha's betray'd me :
Whofe honour, and whole honety till now,
Endur'd all Weathers.

Lord. Lay't so to his charge :
He's with the King your Father.

Leo. Who ? Camillo ?

Lord. Camillo (Sir :) I spake with him: who now
Ha's these poor men in queftion. Never saw I
Wreches fo quake: they kneel, they kifs the earth ;
For wear themselves as often as they speak :
Bohemia flops his ears, and threatens them
With divers deaths, in death.

Per. Oh my poor Father :
The Heaven fets Spies upon us, will not have
Our Contract celebrated.

Leo. You are married ?

Flor. We are not (Sir) nor are we like to be :
The Stars (I fee) will kifs the Valleyes firſt :
The oddes for high and low's alike.

Leo. My Lord,

Is this the Daughter of a King?

Flor. She is,

When once she is my Wife.

Leo. That once (I fee) by your good Fathers ſpeed,
Will come-on very flowly. I am forry
(Moft ſorry) you have broken from his liking,
Where you were ty'd in duty : and as forry,
Your choice is not so rich in Worth, as Beauty,
That you might well enjoy her.

Flor. Dear look up :
Though Fortune, visible an enemy,

Should chafe us, with my Father: power no jot
Hath ſhe to change our Loves. Befeech you (Sir)
Remember, ſince you ow'd no more to Time
Then I do now: with thought of ſuch Affections,
Step forth mine Advocate: at your requeſt,
My Father will grant precious things, as Trifles.

Leo. Would he do so, I'd beg your precious Miftris
Which he counts but a Trifle.

Paul. Sir (my Liege)

Your eye hath too much youth in't: not a moneth

Fore your Queen di'd, she was more worth ſuch gazes
Then what you look on now.

Leo. I thought of her,

Even in theſe Lookes I made. But your Petition
Is yet un-anſwer'd: I will to your Father :
Your Honour not o're-thrown by your defires,
I am friend to them, and you: upon which Errand
I now go toward him: therefore follow me,

And mark what way I make: Come good my Lord.

*Exeunt.*

## Scena Secunda.

*Enter Antolichus, and a Gentleman.*

Am. Befeech you (Sir) were you preſent at this Reſa-
tion?

Gent. 1. I was by at the opening of the Fardel, heard
the old Shepherd deliver the manner how he found it:
whereupon (after a little amazedneſs) we were all com-
manded out of the Chamber: only this (me thought) I
heard the Shepherd ſay, he found the Child.

Aut. I would moſt gladly know the Ille of it.

Gen. 1. I make a broken delivery of the buſineſs: but
the changes I perceived in the King and Camillo, were ve-
ry Notes of admiration: they feem'd almost, with ftraring
on one another, to tear the Cafes of their Eyes. There
was ſpeech in their dumbneſs, Language in their very Ge-
ſture: they look'd as they had heard of a World ranſom'd,
or one deftroyed: a notable paſſion of Wonder appeared
in them: but the wifef beholder, that knew no more
but feeing, could not ſay, if th'importance were Joy, or
Sorrow ; but in the extremity of the one, it muſt needs be.

*Enter another Gentleman.*

Here comes a Gentleman, that happily knowes more:
The News, Rogero.

Gent. 2. Nothing but Bonfires: the Oracle is fulfill'd:
the Kings Daughter is found: ſuch a deal of wonder is
broken out within this hour, that Ballad-makers cannot
be able to expeſſ it.

*Enter another Gentleman.*

Here comes the Lady Paulina's Steward, he can deliver
you more. How goes it now (Sir ?) This Newes (which
is call'd true) is ſo like an old Tale, that the verity of it is
in ſtrong ſubſition: Ha's the King found his heir?

Gen. 3. Moſt true, if ever Truch were pregnant by
Circumſtance: That which you hear, you'll ſwear you
fee, there is ſuch unity in the Proofes. The Mantle
of Queen Hermione: her Jewel about the Neck of it:
the Letters of Amigonus found with it, which they know
to be his Character; the Majefty of the Creature, in re-
femblance of the Mother: the Affection of Noblenefs,
which Nature ſhewes above her Breeding, and many o-
ther Evidences, proclaim her, with all certainty, to be
the Kings Daughter. Did you fee the meeting of the two
Kings?

Gent. 2. No.

Gent. 3. Then have you loft a Sight which was to be
feen, cannot be ſpoken of. There might you have be-
held one Joy crown another, fo and in ſuch manner, that
it ſeem'd Sorrow wept to take leave of them: for their
Joy waded in tears. There was caſing up of Eyes, hol-
ding up of hands, with Countenance of ſuch diltraſion,
that they were to be known by Garment, not by Favour.

Our

302

The Winters Tale.

Paul. What (Soveraign Sir)

I did not well, I meant well : all my Services
You have paid home. But that you have vouchsaf'd
(With your Crown'd Brother, and thefe your contracted
Heirs of your Kingdoms) my poor House to visit
It is a surplus of your Grace, which never
My life may laft to anfwer.

Leo. O Paulina,

We honour you with trouble : but we came
To fee the Statue of our Queen. Your Gallery
Have we pafs'd through, not without much content
In many fingularities ; but we faw not
That which my Daughter came to look upon,
The Statue of her Mother.

Paul. As the liv'd Peerleſſe,

So her dead likeneſſe I do well believe
Excells what ever yet you look'd upon,
Or hand of Man hath done: therefore I keep it
Lovely, apart. But here it is: prepare
To fee the life as lively mock'd, as ever
Still Sleep mock'd death: behold, and fay 'tis well.
I like your ſilence, it the more ſhews off
Your wonder: but yet ſpeak, firſt you (my Liege)
Comes it not ſomething neer?

Leo. Her natural Poffure.

Chide me (dear Stone) that I may ſay indeed
Thou art Hermione; or rather, thou art the,
In thy not chiding: for ſhe was as tender
As infancy, and Grace. But yet (Paulina)
Hermione was not ſo much wrinkled, nothing
So aged as this ſeems.

Pol. Oh, not by much.

Paul. So much the more our Carvers excellence.

Which lets go-by ſome fixteen years, and makes her
As the liv'd now.

Leo. As now ſhe might have done,

So much to my good comfort, as it is
Now piercing to my foul. Oh, thus ſhe flood,
Even with ſuch Life of Majefty (warm Life,
As now it coldly stands) when firſt I woode her.
I am aſham'd: Do's not the Stone rebuke me,
For being more Stone then it? Oh Royal Peece :
There's Magick in thy Majefty, which has
My evils conjur'd to remembrance; and
From thy admiring Daughter took the Spirits,
Standing like Stone with thee.

Perd. And give me leave,

And do not ſay 'tis Superſtition, that
I kneeſel, and then implore her Bleſſing. Lady,
Deer Queen, that ended when I but began,
Give me that hand of yours to kiffe.

Paul. O, patience:

The Statue is but newly fix'd; the Colour's
Not dry.

Cams. My Lord, your Sorrow was too ſore lay'd-on,
Which fixteen Winters cannot blow away,

So many Summers dry: ſcare any Joy
Did ever ſo long live; no Sorrow,
But kill'd it ſelf much sooner.

Pol. Deer my Brother,

Let him, that was the cauſe of this, have power
To take off ſo much grief from you, as he
Will peecce up in himſelf.

Paul. Indeed my Lord,

If I had thought the fight of my poor Image
Would thus have wrought you (for the Stone is mine)

I'd not have you ſhevv'd it.

Leo. Doe not dravv the Curtain.

Paul. No longer ſhall you gaze on't: least your Fancy
May think anon, it moves.

Leo. Let be, let be,

Would I were dead, but that me thinks already.
(What vvas he that did make it ? ) See (my Lord)
Would you not deem it breath'd ? and that thatſe veins
Did verify bear blood?

Pol. Maſterly done.

The very life ſeems warm upon her Lippe,

Leo. The ſ fixture of her Eye ha's motion in't,
As we are mock'd with vith Art.

Paul. Ile dravv the Curtain :

My Lord's almoſſ to farre tranſported, that
He'l think anon it lives.

Leo. Oh ſweet Paulina,

Make me to think ſo twenty years together :
No fetled Sences of the World can match
The pleasure of that madneſſe. Let's alone.

Pau. I am ſory (Sir) I have thus farre flirt'd you; but
I could afflіct you further.

Leo. Doe Paulina?

For this afflіction ha's a taſe as ſweet
As any Cordiall comfort. Still me thinks
There is an ayre comes from her. What ſine Chizzell
Could ever yet cut breath ? Let no man mock me,
For I will kiffle her.

Paul. Good my Lord forbear;

The ruddineſſe upon her Lippe, is wet:

You'll marre it, if you kiffle it; ſtain your own
With Oyly Painting: ſhall I draw the Curtain?

Leo. No: not theſe twenty years.

Perd. So long could I

Stand by, a looker-on.

Paul. Either forbear,

Quit preſently the Chappell, or reſolve you
For more amazement: if you can behold it,
Ile make the Statue move indeed; descend,
And take you by the hand: but then you'll think
(Which I proteſt againſt) I am afflіted
By wicked Powers.

Leo. What you can make her do,

I am content to look on: what to ſpeak,
I am content to hear: for 'tis as caſe
To make her ſpeak, as move.

Pau. It is requi'd

You doe awake your Faith: then, all ſtand fill :

On: thate think it is unlawful Buſineſſe
I am about, let them depart.

Leo. Proceed:

No foot shall flirre,

Pam. Mufick; awake her: Strike :

'Tis time: descend: be Stone no more : approach :

Strike all that look upon with marvaile: Come :

Ile fill your Grave up: flirre, nay, come away :

Bequeath to death your numneſſe: (for from him
Dear Life redeems you) you perceive ſhe flirres :

Start no: her Actions ſhall be holy, as

You hear my ſpelf is lawful: do not ſhun her,
Untill you ſee her dye again; for then

You kill her double: Nay, prefent your hand :

When ſhe was young, you woo'd her: now in age,
Is ſhe become the Suitor?

Leo. Oh ſhe's warm:

If this be Magick, let it be an Art

LAW-

The Winters Tale.

303

Lawful as Eating.

Pol. She embraces him.

Cam. She hangs about his neck,

If she pertain to life, let her speak too:

Pol. I, and make it manifest where she has liv'd;
Or how tofln from the dead ?

Paul. That she is living,

Were it but told you, should be hooted at
Like an old Tale : but it appears she lives,
Though yet she speak not. Mark a little while :
Please you to interpose (fair Madam) kneel ,
And pray your Mothers bleffing ; turn good Lady,
Our Perdita is found.

Her. You gods look down,

And from your sacred Viols poure your graces

Upon my Daughters head: Tell me (mine own)

Where haft thou been preferv'd? Where liv'd? How found

Thy Fathers Court ? For thou fhalt hear that I

Knowing by *Paulina*, that the Oracle

Gave hope thou waft in being, have preferv'd
My self, to fee the Illufe.

Paul. There's time enough for that;
Left they defire (upon this push) to trouble
Your joyes with like Relation. Go together
You precious winners all: your exultation

Partake to every one : I (an old Turtle)

Will wing me to fome wither'd bough, and there

My Mate (that's never to be found again)

Lament till I am loft.

Leo. O peace Paulina:

Thou shouldft a husband take by my confent,

As I by thine a Wife. This is a Match,

And made between's by Vowes. Thou haſt found mine,

But how, is to be question'd : for I faw her
(As I thought) dead : and have (in vain) faid many

A prayer upon her grave. Ile not seek far

(For him, I partly know his mind) to find thee

An honourable husband. Come Camillo,

And take her by the hand : whose worth; and honeſty

Is richly noted : and here juſtified

By Us, a pair of Kings. Let's from this place.

What ? look upon my Brother: both your pardons,

That ere I put between your holy lookses

My ill ſuppition: This your Son-in-law,

And Son unto the King, whom heavens directing

Is troth-plight to your daughter. Good Paulina,

Lead us from hence, where we may leifurely

Each one demand, and anſwer to his part

Perform'd in this wide gap of Time, ſince firſt

Were diſſever'd. Hafthily lead away.

Exeunt.

The Names of the Actors.

Leontes, King of Sicilia.
Mamilius, young Prince of Sicilia.

Camillo.

Antigonus. Four

Cleonines. Lords of Sicilia.

Dion.

Hermione, Queen to Leontes.

Perdita, Daughter to Leontes and Hermione.

Paulina, Wife to Antigonus.

Emilia, a Lady.

Polixenes, King of Bohemia.

Florizel, Prince of Bohemia.

Old Shepheard, reputed Father of Perdita.

Clown his Son.

Autolicus, a Rogue.

Archidamus, a Lord of Bohemia.

Other Lords, and Gentlemen, and Servants.

Shepherds, and Shepherdesses.

F I N I S.

The Life and Death of King John.

What woman poſt is this ? hath she no Husband
That take pains to blow a horn before her ?
O me, 'tis my Mother : how now good Lady,
What brings you here to Court so haitily ?

Enter Lady Faulkroube and James Gurney.

Lady. Where is that slave thy Brother? where is he ?
That holds in chafe mine honour up and down.

Baſt. My brother Robert, old Sir *Roberts fon* : Colbrand the Gyant that fame mighty man,
Is it Sir *Roberts fon* that you feek so ?

Lady. Sir Roberts ſon, I thou unreverend boy,
Sir Roberts ſon, why ſcorn't thou at Sir Robert ?
He is Sir Roberts ſon, and ſo art thou.

Baſt. James Gourney, wilt thou give us leave a while?

Gour. Good leave good Philip.

Baſt. Philip, Sparrow, James,

There's toys abroad, anon Ile tell thee more.

Exit James.

Madam, I was not old Sir *Roberts Son*,
Sir *Robert* might have eat his part in me

Upon good Friday, and nere broke his faſt:
Sir *Robert* could do well, marry to confefle
Could get me, Sir *Robert* could not do it

Could get me, Sir Robert could not do it ?
We know his handy-work, therefore good Mother
To whom am I beholding for these limbs ?

Sir *Robert* never holp to make this legge.

Lady. Haſt thou confpired with thy brother too,
That for thine own gain ſhouldt defend mine honour ?
What means this ſcorn, thou moſt untoward knave ?

Baſt. Knight, Knight, good Mother, Bafilico-like.
What, I am dub'd, I have it on my ſhoulder :

But Mother, I am not Sir *Roberts fon*,
I have difclaim'd Sir *Robert* and my Land,
Legitimation, name, and all is gone ;
Then good my Mother, let me know my Father,
Some proper man I hope, who was it Mother ?

Lady. Haſt thou deny'd thy ſelf a *Paulconbridge* ?
Baſt. As faithfully as I deny the Devil.

Lady. King Richard Cordelien was thy Father,
By long and vehement suit I was ſeduc'd
To make room for him in my Husbands bed :
Heaven lay not my tranſgreflion to my charge,
That art the ilſue of my dear offence
Which was ſo strongly urg'd paſt my defence.

Baſt. Now by this light were I to get again,
Madam I would not with a better father :
Some fins do bear their privilege on earth,
And fo doth yours : your fault was not your folly,
Needs muſt you lay your heart at his diſpoſe,
Subjeſted tribute to commanding love,
Against whole fury and unmatched force,
The awleſſe Lion could not wage the fight,
Nor keep his Princely heart from *Richards hand* :

He that perſorce robs Lions of their hearts,
May easily win a womans : aye my Mother,
With all my heart I thank thee for my father :
Who lives and dares but ſay, thou didst not well
When I was got, Ile ſend his ſoul to hell.

Come Lady I will ſhow thee to my kin,
And they ſhall ſay, when *Richard* me begor,
If thou hadt faſt him nay, it had been ſing
Who ſays it was, he lives, I ſay 'twas not.

Exeunt.

## Scena ſecunda.

Enter before Angiers, Philip King of France, Lewis, Daul-
phin, Austria, Constance, Arthur.

Lewis. Before Angiers well met brave *Austria*,
Arthur that great forerunner of thy blood,
Richard that rob'd the Lion of his heart,
And fought the Holy wars in *Paleſtine*.

By this brave Duke came early to his grave :
And for amends to his poſterity,

At our importance hither is he come,
To spread his colours boy, in thy behalf,

And to rebuke the ufurpation

Of thy unnatural uncle *English John*,

Embrace him, love him, give him welcome hither.

Arthur. God ſhall forgive you *Cordelians* death
The rather, that you give his off-ſpring life,
Shadowing their right under your wings of warres

I give you welcome with a powerleſſe hand,

But with a heart full of unflained Love,

Welcome before the gates of Angiers Duke.

Lewis. A noble boy, who would not do thee right ?

Auſt. Upon thy cheek lay I this zealous kisle,

As feal to this Indenture of my love :
That to my home I will no more return

Till Angiers and the right thou haſt in *France*,
Together with that pale, that white-fac'd thore,
Whose foot ſpurns back the Oceans roaring tides

And coops from other Lands her Iſlanders,

Even till that *England* hedg'd in with the main,

That water-walled Bulwark, ſtill ſecure

And confident from ſortain purpofes,

Even till that utmoſt corner of the *West*

Salute thee for her King, till then fair boy

Will I not think of home, but follow Arms.

Conſt. O take his Mothers thanks, a widdows thanks,

Till your strong hand shall help to give him ſtrength,

To make a more requital to your love.

Auſt. The peace of heaven is theirs that lift their ſwords
In ſuch a juſt and charitable warre.

King. Well, then to work our Cannon ſhall be bent
Against the brows of this refitting town,
Call for our chiefefſt men of discipline,
To cull the plots of beſt advantages :
We'll lay before this Town our Royal bones,
Wade to the Market-place in *French-men's* blood,
But we will make it ſubjeſt to this boy.

Conſt. Stay for an anſwer to your Embaſſe,
Left unadviſ'd you ſtain your ſwords with blood :
My Lord *Chattilion* may from *England* bring
That right in peace which here we urge in warre,
And then we ſhall repent each drop of blood,
That hot rafh haſte ſo indirectly ſhed.

Enter Chattilion.

King. A wonder Lady ; lo upon thy with
Our Meſlenger *Chattillion* is arriv'd,

What *England* ſays, ſay briefly gentle Lord,

We coldly paſſe for thee, *Chattillion* ſpeak.

Chat. Then turn your forces from this paltry ſiege,
And flirre them up againſt a mightier task :

*England* impatient of your juſt demands,

Hath put himſelf in Arms, the adverse winds

C c 2

Whofe

["308", "The Life and Death of King John.", "Whose leifure I have flaid, have given him time\nTo land his Legions all as soon as I:\nHis marches are expedient to this Town,\nHis forces strong, his fouldiers confident:\nWith him along is come the Mother Queen,\nAn Ace stirring him to bloud and strike,\nWith her her Neece, the Lady Blanch of Spain,\nWith them a Baftard of the King deceaf'd,\nAnd all th'unfeited humours of the Land,\nRaſh, inconſiderate, ſiery volunſaries,\nWith Ladies faces, and ſierce Dragons ſpleens,\nHave fold their fortunes at their native homes,\nBearing their birth-right proudly on their backs,\nTo make a hazzard of new fortunes here:\nIn brief, a braver choife of dauntleſſe ſpirits\nThen now the English bottoms have waſt o're,\nDid never float upon the ſwelling tide,\nTo do offence and ſcathe in Chriſtendome:\nThe interruption of their churliſh Drums\nCuts off more circumſtance, they are at hand;", "Drums beats.", "To parly or to fight, therefore prepare.", "King. How much unlook'd for, is this expedition.", "Auſt. By how much unexpected, by so much", "We muſt awake endeavour for defence,", "For courage mounted with occasion,", "Let them be welcome then, we are prepar'd.", "Enter King of England, Baſtard, Queen, Blanch, Pembrook and others.", "K. John. Peace be to France : if France in peace permit\nOur just and lineal entrance to our own ;", "If not, bleed France, and peace ascend to Heaven.", "Whiles we Gods wrathful agent do correct", "Their proud contempt that beats his peace to Heaven.", "Fran. Peace be to England, if that warre return", "From France to England, there to live in peace :", "England we love, and for that Englands ſake,", "With burden of our armour here we weat :", "This toyl of ours ſhould be a work of thine,", "But thou from loving England art ſo farre", "That thou haſt under-wrought his lawful King,", "Cut off the ſequence of potterity,", "Out-faced Infant State, and done a rape", "Upon the Maiden-vertue of the Crown :", "Look here upon thy brother Geſſreys ſace,", "Theſe eyes, theſe brows, were moulded out of his", "This little abſtraſt doth contain that large,", "which died in Geſſry : and the hand of time,", "Shall draw this brief into as huge a volume :", "That Geſſry was thy elder brother born,", "And this his ſon, England was Geſſreys right,", "And this is Geſſreys in the Name of God :", "How comes it then that thou art call'd a King,", "When living blood doth in theſe Temples beat", "Which owe the Crown that thou o're-matterſt?", "K. John. From whom haſt thou this great Commiffion", "To draw my anſwer from thy Articles ?", "(France,", "Fra. From that ſupernal judge that ſtirs good thoughts\nIn any breast of strong authority,", "To look into the blors and ſtains of right,", "That judge hath made me guardian to this boy,", "Under whose warrant I impeach thy wrong,", "And by whose help I mean to chaſtife it.", "K. Ioh. Alack thou doſt uſurp authority.", "Fran. Excuse it is to beat uſurping down.", "Queen. Who is it thou doſt call uſurper France ?", "Conſt. Let me make anſwer : thy uſurping ſon,", "Queen. Our infolent, thy Baſtard ſhall be King,", "That thou maſt be a Queen and check the World,", "Conſt. My bed was ever to thy Son as true", "As thine was to thy Husband, and this boy", "Liker in feature to his father Geſſrey", "Then thou and John, in manners being as like,", "As rain to water, or devil to his damme.", "My boy a baſtard ? by my foul I think", "His father never was so true begot,", "It cannot be, and if thou wert his mother.", "Qu. There's a good mother boy, that blots thy father.", "Conſt. There's a good Grandame boy", "That would blot thee.", "Auſt. Peace.", "Baſt. Hear the Cryer.", "Auſt. What the devil art thou ?", "Baſt. One that will play the devil fir with you,", "And a may catch your hide and you alone :", "You are the Hare of whom the Proverb goes", "Whofe valour plucks dead Lyons by the beard ;", "Ile ſmoak your skin-coat, and I catch you right,", "Sirraht look to't, yfaith I will, yfaith.", "Blan. O well did he become that Lyons robe,\nThat did difrobe the Lyon of that robe.", "Baſt. It lyes as fightely on the back of him", "As great Alcides ſhooes upon an Aſſe :", "But Aſſe, Ile take that burden from your back,", "Or lay on that ſhall make your shoulders crack.", "Auſt. What cracker is this fame that deaſs our eares", "With this abundance of ſuperfluous breath ?", "King Lewis determine what we ſhall do ſtraſt.", "Lew. Women and fools, break off your conference,", "King John, this is the very ſumme of all :", "England and Ireland, Angiers, Torain, Main,", "In right of Arthur do I claim of thee :", "Wilt thou reſign them, and lay down thy Arms ?", "John. My life as soon : I do defie thee France.", "Arthur of Britain, yield thee to my hand ;", "And out of my deer love Ile give thee more,", "Then ere the coward hand of France can win ;", "Submit thee boy.", "Queen. Come to thy Grandame child.", "Conſt. Do child, go to it grandame child,", "Give Grandame kingdom, and it Grandame will", "Give it a plum, a cherry and a figge,", "There's a good Grandame.", "Arthur. Good my mother peace,", "I would that I were low laid in my grave,", "I am not worth this coyl that's made for me.", "(weeps)", "Qu. Mo. His Mother ſhames him ſo, poor boy he", "Conſt. Now ſhame upon you where the does or no.", "His Grandames wrongs, and not his Mothers ſhames", "Draws theſe Heaven-moving pearls from his poor eyes,", "Which heaven ſhall take in nature of a fee :", "I, with theſe Criftall beads heaven shall be brib'd", "To do him juſtice and revenge on you.", "Qu. Thou monſtrous ſlanderer of heaven and earth.", "Conſt. Thou monſtrous in jurer of heaven and earth,", "Call not me ſlanderer, thow and thine uſurp", "The Domination, Royalties and Rights", "Of this oppreſſed boy ; this is thy eldeſt ſons,", "Infortunate in nothing but in thee ;", "Thy", "Thy ſtyle\nThe Ca\nBe ng\nRemo\nJohn\nConſt\nThat\nBut\nOn\nAnd\nHer\nin\nAll\npul\nAnd\na\nQ\nW\nE\nR\nT\nS\nT\nY\nP\nK\nL\nO\nN\nM\nN\nG\nF\nH", "Q", "W", "E", "R", "T", {"bbox": [1095, 312, 1118, 333], "category": "

Thy fins are vifited in this poor child,
The Canon of the Law is laid on him,
Being but the second generation
Removed from thy fin-conceiving womb.

John. Bedlam have done.

Conſt. I have but this to say,

That he is not only plagued for her fin,
But God hath made her fin and her, the plague
On this removed ilſue, plagued for her,
And with her plague her fin : his injury
Her injury the Beadle to her fin,
All puniſh'd in the perſon of this child,
And all for her, a plague upon her.

Que. Thou unadviſed ſold, I can produce
A Will, that barrs the title of thy ſon.

Conſt. I who doubts that, a Will : a wicked will,
A womans will, a cankered Grandames will.

Fran. Peace, Lady, paſſe, or be more temperate,
It be ſeeems this preſence to cry ay me
To the ſeill tuned repetitions :
Some Trumpet ſummon hither to the walls
The ſe men of Angiers, let us hear them ſpeak,
Whoſe title they admit, *Arthur* or *Johns*.

Trumpet ſounds.
Enter a Citizen upon the walls.

Citi. Who is it that hath warn'd us to the walls ?

Fran. *Tis France, for England.*

John. England for it self.

You men of Angiers, and my loving ſubjeſts,

Fran. You loving men of Angiers, *Arthur's* ſubjeſts,
Our Trumpet call'd you to this gentle parle.

John. For our advantage, therefore hear us first :

The ſe flags of France that are advanced here
Before the eye and preſpect of your Town,
Have hither march'd to your endamagement.

The Canons have their bowels ſull of wrath,
And ready mounted are they to ſpit forth

Their Iron indignation 'gainſt your walls ;
All preparation for a bloody ſiege

And mercileſs proceeding, by the ſ French.

Comfort your Cities eyes, your winking gates :
And but for our approach, that ſeeping ſtones,

That as a waſte doth girdle you about

By the compulſion of their ordinance,

By this time from their fixed beds of lime

Had been diſhabited, and wide havock made

For bloody power to ruff upon your peace,

But on the fight of us your lawful King,

Who painfully with much expedient march

Have brought a counter-check before your gates,

To ſave uncurd'd your Cities threatened cheeks :

Behold the *French* amaz'd vouchſaſe a parle,

And now inſtead of bullets wrapt in fire

To make a ſhaking Feaver in your walls,

They ſhoot but calm words, folded up in ſmoak,

To make a faithleſſe error in your ears,

Which truſt accordingly kind Citizens,

And let us in. Your King, whose ſlabour'd ſpirits

Fore-wearied in this action of ſwift ſpeed,

Craves harbourage within your City walls.

Fran. When I have ſaid, make anſwer to us both.
Loe in this right hand, whose protection
Is moſt divinely vow'd upon the right
Of him in it holds, ſlands young *Plantagenet*,
Son to the elder brother of this man,

And King ore him, and all that he enjoyes :

For this down-troden equity, we tread

In warlike march, the ſeems before your Town,

Being no further enemy to you

Then the conſtraint of Hofpitable zeal,

In the relief of this oppreſſed child,

Religiously provokes. Be plearſed then

To pay that duty which you truly owe,

To him that owes it, namely, this young Prince,

And then our Arms, like to a muzled Bear,

Save in aspect, hath all offence ſeal'd up :

Our Canons malice, vainly ſhall be ſpent

Against th'invulnerable clouds of Heaven,

And with a bleſſed, and un-vest retire,

With unhack'd ſwords, and Helmets all unbruſ'd,

We will bear home that luſty blood again,

Which here we came to ſpout againſt your Town,

And leave your children, wives, and you in peace.

But if you fondly paffe our proffer'd offer,

'Tis not the rounder of your old-fac'd walls,

Can hide you from our meſſengers of war,

Though all theſe English, and their diſcipline

Were harbour'd in their rude circumſference :

Then tell us, Shall your City call us Lord,

In that behalf which we have chalſſing'd it ?

Or ſhall we give the ſignal to our rage,

And ſtall in blood to our poffeſſion ?

Citi. In brief we are the King of Englands ſubjeſts,
For him, and in his right, we hold this Town.

John. Acknowledge then the King, and let me in.

Citi. That can we not : but he that proves the King
to him will we prove loyal, till that time

Have we ramm'd up our gates againſt the world.

John. Doth not the Crown of England, prove the
King ?

And if not that, I bring you witneſſes

Twice fifteen thouſand hearts of Englands breed.

Baſt. Baſtards and elfe.

John. To veriſe our title with their lives.

Fran. As many and as well born bloods as thatof.

Baſt. Some Baſtards too.

Fran. Stand in his face to contradict his claim.

Citi. Till you compound whose right is worthieſt,
We for the worthieſt hold the right from both.

John. Then God forgiſe the ſin of all thate ſouls,

That to their everlaſting ſididence,

Before the dew of evening fall ſhall fleet

In dreadful trial of our Kingdoms King.

Fran. Amen, Amen, mount Chevaliers to Arms.

Baſt. Saint George that ſwindg'd the Dragon,

And ere ſince fits on's horseback at mine Hoteſſe door,

Teach us ſome ſence. Sirrab, were I at home

At your den firraſh, with your Lyonneſſe,

I would ſet an Ox-head to your Lyons hide :

And make a monſter of you,

Auſt. Peace no more.

Baſt. O tremble : for you hear the Lyon roar.

John. Up higher to the plain, where we'll ſet forth
In beſt appointment all our Regiments.

Baſt. Speed then to take adveſtage of the field.

Fran. It ſhall be ſo, and at the other hill

Command the reſt to ſtand. God and our right. Exeunt.

*Here after excursions, enter the Herald of France with Trumpets to the gates.*

F. Her. You men of Angiers open wide your gates,
And let young *Arthur* Duke of *Britain* in,

C c 3

Who

310

Who by the hand of France, this day hath made
Much work for tears in many an English Mother,
Whose sons lye scattered on the bleeding ground :
Many a widows Husband groveling lyes,
Coldly embracing the difcoloured earth,
And victory with little lofe doth play
Upon the dancing banners of the French,
Who are at hand triumphantly displayed
To enter Conquerors, and to proclaim
Arthur of Britain, Englands King, and yours.

Enter English Herald with Trumpet.

E. Har. Rejoice you men of Angiers, ring your bells,
King Johns, your King and Englands, doth approach,
Commander of this hot malicious day,
Their Armours that march'd hence so silver bright,
Hither return all gilt with Frenchmens blood :
There fluck no plume in any English Creft,
That is removed by a staffe of France.
Our colours do return in those fame hands
That did difplay them when we first marcht forth
And like a jolly troop of Huntsmen come
Our luffy English, all with purpled hands,
Dide in the dying slaughter of their foes.
Open your gates, and give the victors way.

Hub. Heralds, from off our towers we might behold
From firft to laft, the on-fet and retire,
Of both your Armies, whose equitity
By our best eyes cannot be confured :
Blood hath bought blood, and blows have answered
Strength march with strength, and power confronted
power.

Both are alike, and both alike we like :
One must prove greatest. While they weigh so even,
We hold our Town for neither : yet for both.

Enter the two Kings with their powers
at several doors.

John. France, haft thou yet more blood to caft away?
Say, shall the currant of our right run on,
Whose paflage vext with thy impediment,
Shall leave his native channel, and ore-swell
With eourfe difturb'd even thy confining flores,
Unleſſe thou let his silver Water, keep
A peaceful progrefſe to the Ocean.

Fran. England thou haſt not fav'd one drop of blood
In this hot trial more than we of France.
Rather loft more. And by this hand I ſwear
That fways the earth this Climat over-looks,
Before we will lay down our juſt born Arms,
We'l put thee down, 'gainſt whom theſe Arms we bear,
Or add a royal number to the dead :
Gracing the ſcroul that tells of this wars loſſe,
With slaughter coupled to the name of Kings.

Bait. Ha Majefly: how high thy glory towers,
When the rich blood of Kings is fet on fire :
Oh now doth death line his dead chaps with fleet,
The Swords of Souldiers are his teeth, his phangs,
And now he feaſts, mouſing the fleth of men
In undetermin'd differences of Kings.

Why fland theſe royall fronts amazed thus :
Cry hawock Kings, back to the ſtained field
You equal Potents, fiery kindled ſpirits,
Then let conſuſation of one part confirm
The others peace: till then, blows, blood, and death.

John. Whose party do the Townſmen yet admit ?

Fran. Speak Citizens for England, who's your King,
Hub. The King of England, when we know the King,
Fran. Know him in us, that here hold up his right,
John. In us, that are our own great Deputy,
And bear poffeffion of our Perſon here,
Lord of our preference Angiers, and if you.

Hub. A greater power than We denies all this,
And till it be undoubted, we do lock
Our former ſcruple in our ſtrong barr'd gates :
Kings of our fear, until our fears refolv'd
Be by ſome certain King purg'd and depof'd.

Bait. By heaven, theſe ſeroyles of Angiers flout you
And ſtand fecurly on their battlements,
As in a Theater, whence they gape and point,
At your induſtrious Scenes and acts of death.

Your Royal preſences be rul'd by me,
Do like the Mutines of Iernſalem,
Be friends a while, and both conjointly bend,
Your Sharpeſt deeds of malice on this Town.
By Eau and Weſt let France and England mouna
Their battering Canon charged to the mouths,
Till their foul-fearing clamours have braul'd down
The flinty ribs of this contemptuous City,
I'de play inſeſantly upon theſe Jades,
Even till unſenced defolation
Leave them as naked as the vulgar Air :
That done, diſſever your united ſtrengths,
And part your mingled colours once again,
Turn face to face, and bloody point to point :
Then in a moment Fortune ſhall cull forth
Out of one ſide her happy Minion.
To whom in favour the ſhall give the day,
And kiffe him with a glorious victory :
How like you this wild counſel mighty States,
Smacks it not ſomething of the policy?

John. Now by the Sky that hangs above our heads,
I like it well. France, ſhall we knit our powers,
And lay this Angiers even with the ground,
Then after fight who ſhall be King of it?

Bait. And if thou haſt the meſtle of a King,
Being wrong'd as we are by this peevish Town :
Turn thou the mouth of thy Artillery ,
As we will ours, againſt theſe ſaucy walls,
And when that we have daſh'd them to the ground,
Why then defie each other, and pell-mell,
Make work upon our ſelves for heaven or hell.

Fran. Let it be so : ſay, where will you affault ?

John. We from the Weſt will ſend deſtruction
Into this Cities boſom.

Auſt. I from the North.

Fran. Our Thunder from the South,
Shall rain their drift of bullets on this Town,
Bait. O prudent discipline ! From North to South:
Anſtria and France ſhoot in each others mouth,
Ile ſtrir them to it : come, away, away.

Hub. Hear us great Kings, vouchſafe a while to ſay
And I ſhall ſhow you peace, and fair ſac'd league :
Win you this City without ſtroak, or wound,
Reſcue theſe Breathing lives to dye in beds,
That here come ſacrifices for the field.

Perſevere not, but hear me mighty Kings.

John. Speak on with favour, we are bent to hear.

Hub. That daughter there of Spain, the Lady Blanch
Is neer to England, look upon the years
Of Lewis the Dolphin, and that lovely maid.
If lufy love should go in queſt of beauty,

Where

311

Where should he find it fairer, than in *Blanch* :
If zealous Love go in search of vertue,
Where should he find it purer than in *Blanch* ?
If Love ambitious, fought a match of birth,
Whose veins bound richer blood then *Lady Blanch* ?
Such as he is, in beauty, vertue, birth,
Is the young *Dolphin* every way compleat,
If not compleat of, say he is not she,
And she again wants nothing, to name want,
If want it be not, that she is not he :
He is the half part of a bleffed man,
Left to be finifhed by such as she,
And she a fair divided excellence,
Whofe fulneſſe of perfection lies in him.

O two ſuch filver Currents when they joyn,
Do glorifie the banks that bound them in :
And two ſuch flores, to two ſuch streams made one,
Two ſuch controlling bounds ſhall you be, Kings,
To the two Princes, if you marry them :
This union ſhall do more than battery can,
To our ſaft cloſed gates : for at this match,
With ſwifter ſpleen than powder can enforce,
The mouth of paffage ſhall we fling wide ope,
And give you entrance : but without this match,
The Sea enraged is not halfe ſo deaf,
Lyons more confident, Mountains and Rocks,
More free from Motion, no not death himself
In mortall fury half ſo perëmptory,
As we to keep this City.

*Baſt.* Here's a lay,

That flakes the rotten carkaffe of old death
Out of his raggs. Here's a large mouth indeed,
That spits forth death, and Mountains, Rocks, and Seas,
Talks as familiarly of roaring Lyons,
As Maids of thirteen do of Puppi-dogs.
What Cannoneer begot this luſy blood,
He ſpeaks plain Cannon fire, and ſmoak, and bounce,
He gives the Baſtinado with his tongue :
Our ears are cudgel'd, not a word of his
But buffers better than a ſift of *France*
Zounds I was never ſo bethumpt with words,
Since I ſiftt call'd my brothers father Dad.

*Old Qu.* Son, lift to this conjunction, make this match,
Give with our Neece a dowry large enough,
For by this knot, thou ſhalt ſo surely tye,
Thy now unfur'd affuriance to the Crown,
That you green Boy ſhall have no Sun to ripe,
The bloom that promifeth a mighty fruit,
I fee a yeelding in the looks of *France*:

Mark how they whisper, urge them while their fouls
Are capable of this ambition,

Lefts zeal now melted by the windy breath
Of oft petitions, pity and remorse,
Cool and congeal again to what it was.

*Hub.* Why answer not the double Majeflies,
This friendly Treaty of our threatened Town?

*Fra.* Speak *England* firſt, that hath been forward firſt,
To speak unto this City: what fay you?

*John.* If that the *Dolphin* there thy Princely fonne.
Can in this book of beauty read, I love :

Her Dowry ſhall weigh equal with the Queen,
For *Angiers*, and fair *Torain*, Main, *Poyſtiers*,
And all that we upon this ſide the Sea,
(Except this City now by us befieſ'd )
Find liable to our Crown and dignity,
Shall gild her bridall bed and make her rich

In titles, honours, and promotions,
As ſhe in beauty, education, blood,
Holds hands with any Princeſſe of the world.

*Fra.* What ſay ſt thou Boy ? look in the Ladies face.

*Dol.* I do my Lord, and in her eye I find,
A wonder, or a wondrous miracle,

The ſhadow of my ſelf form'd in her eye,
Which being but the ſhadow of your ſon,
Becomes a ſon, and makes your ſon a ſhadow :

I do proteſt I never lov'd my ſelf

Till now, infixed I beheld my ſelf,

Drawn in the flattering Table of her eye.

*Whispers with Blanch.*

*Baſt.* Drawn in the flattering Table of her eye,
Hang'd in the frowning wrinkle of her brow,
And quarter'd in her heart, he doth efpie

Himſelf Loves traitor, this is pity now :

That hang'd and drawn, and quarter'd there ſhould be,
In ſuch a Love, ſo vile a Loust as he.

*Blan.* My U兒es will in this reſpect be mine.

If he ſee ought in you that makes him like,
That any thing he ſees which moves his likings

I can with eſe tranſlate it to my will :

Or if you will, to ſpeak more properly,
I will enforce it eſily to my love.

Further I will not flatter you my Lord,

That all I fee in you is worthy Love,

Than this, that nothing do I fee in you,

Though churlifh thoughts themſelves ſhould be your
Judge,

That I can find, ſhould merit any hate.

*John.* What ſay the ſeene young-ones ? What ſay you my Neece ?

*Blan.* That ſhe is bound in honour ſill to doe

What you in wifdom ſill vouchſaſe to ſay.

*John.* Speak then Prince *Dolphin*, can you love this
Lady ?

*Dol.* Nay ask me if I can refrain from love,
For I do love her moſt unſeinedly.

*John.* Then do I give *Volqueſſen*, *Torain*, *Main*,
*Poyſtiers*, and *Anjow*, theſe five Provinces

With her to thee, and this addition more,

Full thirty thouſand Marks of English coyn ;

*Philip of France*, if thou be pleaf'd withall,

Comm and thy ſon and daughter to joyn hands.

*Fran.* It likes us well young Princes: cloſe your hands,

*Auſt.* And your lips too, for I am well affur'd,

That I did ſo, when I was firſt affur'd.

*Fran.* Now Citizens of Angiers ope your gates,

Let in that amity which you have made,

For at Saint *Maries* Chappell preſently.

The rights of marriage ſhall be ſolemniz'd.

Is not the Lady *Conſtance* in this troop ?

I know ſhe is not, for this match made up,
Her prefence would have interrupted much,
Where is ſhe and her ſon, tell me, who knows ?

*Dol.* She is ſad and paffionate at your Highneſſe Tent.

*Fran.* And by my faith, this league that we have made,
Will give her ſadneſſe very little cure :

Brother of *England*, how may we content

This widdow Lady ? in her right we came,

Which we God knows, have turned another way,
To our own vantage.

*John.* We will heal up all,

For we'll create young *Arthur* Duke of *Britain*
And Earl of *Richmond*, and this rich fair Town

We

312

We make him Lord of. Call the Lady Constance,
Some speedy Meffenger bid her repair
To our Solemnity: I truut we shall,
(If not fill up the meafure of her will)
Yet in fome meafure satisfie her ſo,
That we shall ſtop her exclamation.
Go we as well as haſt we suffer us,
To this unlooke'd for unprepared pomp.
Exeunt.

Bait. Mad world, mad kings, mad composition;
John to flap Arthur's Title in the whole,
Hath willingly departed with a part,
And France, whole Armour Conſcience buckled on,
Whom zeal and charity brought to the field,
As Gods own ſouldier, rounded in the ear
With that fame purpofe-changer, that flye divel,
That broker, that fill breaks the pate of faith,
That daily break-vow, he that winns of all,
Of kings, of beggars, old men, young men, maids,
Who having no exernal thing to lofe,
But the word Maſd, chears the poor Maſd of that.

That smooth-mac'd Gentleman, tickling commodity,
Commodity, the byas of the world,
The world, who of it ſelf is peyſed well,
Made to run even, upon even ground :

To this advantage, this vile drawing byas,
This ſway of motion, this commodity,
Makes it take head from all indifferency,
From all direction, purpofe, courſe, intent.

And this fame byas, this commodity,
This Bawd, this Broker, that all-changing-world,
Clap'd on the outward eye of fickle France,
Hath drawn him from his own determin'd ayd,
From a refolv'd and honorable warre.

To a moſt bafe and vile concluded pease.
And why rail I on this commodity ?

But for becauſe he hath not wooed me yet :
Not that I have the power to clutch my hand,
When his fair Angels would falute my palm,
But for my hand, as unattempted yet,
Like a poor beggar, raiſeth on the rich.

Well, whiles I am a beggar, I will rail,
And fay there is no ſin but to be rich,
And being rich my vertue then ſhall be,

To fay there is no vice, but beggary :
Since Kings break faith upon commodity
Gain be my Lord, for I will worſhip thee.

Oppreſt with wrongs, and therefore full of fears,
A widow, Husbandleſs, ſubjeſt to fears,
A woman naturally born to fears ;

And though thou now confefſe thou didst but jeſt
With my vext ſpirits, I cannot take a Truce,
But they will quake and tremble all this day.

What doſt thou mean by ſhaking of thy head ?
Why doſt thou look ſo fadly on my ſon ?

What means that hand upon that breaſt of thine ?
Why holds thine eye that lamentable rheume,
Like a proud River peering ore his bounds ?

Be theſe ſad ſignes confirmers of thy words ?
Then ſpeak again; not all thy former tale,

But this one word, whether thy tale be true.

*Sal.* As true as I beleeve you think them ſalſe,
That give you cauſe to prove my ſaying true.

*Conſt.* Oh if thou teach me to beleeve this ſorrow,
Teach thou this ſorrow, how to make me dye,
And let beeleſt, and life encounter ſo,
As doſth the fury of two desperate men,
Which in the very meeting fall and dye.

*Lewis* marry Blaunche ? O boy, then where art thou ?
France friend with England, what becomes of me ?
Fellow be gone : I cannot brook thy fight,
This news hath made thee a moſt ugly man.

*Sal.* What other harm have I good Lady done,
But ſpoke the harm, that is by others done ?

*Conſt.* Which harm within it ſelf do hainous is,
As it makes harmfull all that ſpeak of it.

*Arthur.* I do beſeech you Madam be content.

*Conſt.* If thou that bidt me be content, were't grim
Ugly, and flandrous to thy Mothers womb,
Full of unpleaſing blots, and fightleſſe flains,
Lame, foolſh, crooked, ſwart, prodigious,
Patch'd with foul Moles, and eye-offending marks,
I would not care, I then would be content,
For then I should not love thee : no, nor thou

Become thy great birth, nor deferve a Crown.
But thou art fair, and at thy birth ( dear boy)
Nature and Fortune joyn'd to make thee great.

Of Natures gifts, thou maſt with Lillies boaf,
And with the hound blowed Rofe. But Fortune, oh,
She is corrupted, chang'd, and wonn from thee,
Sh'adulcerates hourly with thine Uncle John

And with her golden hand hath pluckt on France
To tread down fair reſpect of Soveraignty,
And made his Maſjeity the bawd to theirs.

*France* is a Bawd to Fortune, and king John,
That ſtrumpet Fortune, that ſurping John :
Tell me thou fellow, is not France forſworn ?
Envenom him with words, or get thee gone,
And leave thofe woes alone, which I alone
Am bound to under-bear.

*Sal.* Pardon me Madam,
I may not go without you to the Kings.

*Conſt.* Thou mayſt, thou ſhalt, I will not go with thee.
I will inſtruct my ſorrows to be proud,

For grief is proud, and makes his owner floo;
To me and to the ſtate of my great grief,
Let Kings ſtlemble: for my grief's ſo great,

That no ſupporter but the huge firm earth
Can hold it up: here I and ſorrows fit,

Here is my Thrope, bid Kings come bow to it.

Actus Secundus.

Emer Conſtance. Arthur, and Salisbury.

*Conſt.* Gone to be married ? gone to ſwear a peace ?
Falſe blood to falſe blood joyn'd. Gone to be friends ?
Shall Lewis have Blaunche, and Blaunche thate provinces?

It is not ſo, thou haſt miſpoke, miſheard,
Be well adviſ'd, tell ore thy tale again.

It cannot be, thou doſt but ſay't is ſo.

I truut I may not truut thee, for thy word
Is but the vain breath of a common man :

Beleeve me, I do not beleeve thee man,
I have a Kings oath to the contrary.

Thou ſhalt be puniſh'd for thus frightening me,
For I am ſick, and capable of fears.

Actus

313

Actus Tertius, Scena prima.

Enter King John, France, Dolphin, Blanch Elianor, Philip,
Austria, Constance.

Fran. 'Tis true (fair daughter) and this blessed day,
Ever in France shall be kept festival:
To tolemnize this day the glorious Sunne
Stays in his courfe, and plays the Alchymist,
Turning with splendor of his precious eye
The meager cloddy earth to glittering gold:
The yearly courfe that brings this day about,
Shall never fee it, but a holy day.

Conſt. A wicked day, and not a holy day.
What hath this day deferv'd ? what hath it done,
That it in golden letters should be fet
Among the high tides in the Kalender ?
Nay, rather turn this day out of the week,
This day of ſhame, oppreſſion, perjury.
Or if it muſt be land fill, let wives with child
Pray that their burthens may not fall this day,
Left that their hopes prodigiously be croſt :
But (on this day) let Sea-men fear no wrack,
No bargains break that are not this day made;
This day all things begun, come to ill end,
Yea, faith it ſelf, to hollow falſhood change.

Fran. By heaven Lady, you shall have no caufe
To curſe the fair proceedings of this day :
Have I not pawn'd to you my Majeſtý ?

Conſt. You have beguil'd me with a counterfeit
Reſembling Majeſtý, which being touch'd and try'd,
Proves valueleſſe : you are forſworn, forſworn,
You came in Arms to ſpill mine enemies blood,
But now in Arms, you ſtrengthen it with yours.
The grappling vigour, and rough frown of warre
Is cold in amity, and painted peace,
And our oppreſſion hath made up this league:
Arme, arme, you heavens, againſt thefe pe: jur'd Kings,
A widow cries, be Husban'to me (Heavens)
Let not the hours of this ungodly day
Wear out the days in peace: but ere Sun-let,
Set armed diſcord 'twixt theſe pe Jur'd Kings,
Hear me, Oh, hear me.

Auſt. Lady Conſtance, peace.

Conſt. Warre, warre, no peace, peace is to me a warre:
O Lymoges, O Austria, thou doſt ſhame
That bloudy ſpoil : thou ſlave, thou wretch, thou coward,
Thou little valiant, great in villany:
Thou ever strong upon the ſtronger ſide ;
Thou Fortunes Champion, that doſt never fight
But when her humourous Ladyſhip is by
To teach thee faſeery : thou art pe Jur'd too,
And ſooth't up greatneſſe. What a fool art thou,
A ramping fool, to brag, and ſtamp, and ſwear,
Upon my party : thou cold blouded ſlave,
Haſt thou not ſpoke like thunder on my ſide ?
Been ſworn my ſouldier, bidding me depend
Upon thy ſtarris, thy fortune, and thy ſtrength,
And doſt thou now fall over to my foes ?
Thou wear a Lyons hide ? doſt it for ſhame,
And hang a Calves skin on thofe recreant Limbs.

Auſt. O that a man should ſpeak thofe words to me.

Phil. And hang a Calves-skin on thofe recreant Limbs.

Auſt. Thou dar't not ſay so villain for thy life.

Phil. And hang a Calves-skin on thofe recreant Limbs.
John. We like not this, thou doſt forget thy ſelf.

Enter Pandulph.

Fran. Here comes the holy Legat of the Pope.

Pan. Hail you anointed deputies of Heaven ;

To thee King John my holy errand is:

I Pandulph of fair Millane Cardinal,
And from Pope Innocent the Legate here,
Do in his name religiouſly demand
Why thou againſt the Church, our holy Mother,
So wilfully doſt ſpurn, and force perſorce
Keep Stephen Langton choſen Archbifhop
Of Canterbury from that holy Sea :
This in our forefaid holy fathers name
Pope Innocent, I do demand of thee.

John. What earthy name to interrogatories
Can taſe the free-breath of a ſacred King?
Thou can't nor (Cardinal) devife a name
So flight, unworthy, and ridiculous
To charge me to an anſwer, as the Pope :
Tell him this tale, and from the mouth of England,
Adde thus much more, that no Italian Priſt
Shall tythe or toll in our Dominions :
But as we, under heaven, are ſupream head,
So under him that great Supremacy
Where we do Reign, we will alone uphold
Without the ſeffiſtance of a mortal hand :
So tell the Pope, all reverence fet apart
To him and his ufurp'd authority.

Fran. Brother of England, you blaſpheme in this.

John. Though you, and all the Kings of Chriſtendome
Are led ſo groſſely by this medling Priſt,
Dreading the curſe that money may buy out,
And by the merit of vile gold, droſſe, duſt,
Purchase corrupted pardon of a man,
Who in that ſale ſels pardon from himſelf :
Though you, and all the reſt ſo groſſely led,
This jugling witch-craft with revenue cheriſh,
Yet I alone, alone, do me oppoſe
Against the Pope, and count my friends my foes.
Pan. Then by the lawful power that I have,
Thou ſhalt be land curſt, and excommunicate,
And bleſſed shall he be that doth revolt
From his Allegiance to an Heretique,
And meritorious ſhall that hand be call'd,
Canonized and worſhipp'd as a Saint,
That takes away by any ſecret courſe
Thy harmful life.

Conſt. O lawful let it be
That I have room with Rome to curſe a while,
Good Father Cardinal, try thou Amen
To my keen curſes ; for without my wrong
There is no tongue that hath power to curſe him right.

Pan. There's Law and Warrant (Lady) for my curſe.
Conſt. And for mine too, when Law can do no right.
Let it be lawful, that Law barre no wrong :
Law cannot give my child his kingdom here :
For he that holds his kingdom, holds the law :
Therefore ſince Law it ſelf is perfect: wrong,
How can the Law forbid my tongue to curſe ?

Pand. Philip of France, on peril of a curſe,
Let go the hand of that Arch-heritique,
And raſe the power of France upon his head,
Unleſſe he do ſubmit himſelf to Rome.

Elea. Look't thou pale France ? do not let go thy hand.

Conſt. Look to that devil, left that France repent,

And

314

And by disjoynyng hands hell Iofse a foul.

Auſt. King Philip, liffen to the Cardinal.

Bauft. And hang a Calves-skin on his recreant Limbs,
Auſt. Well Ruffian, I muſt pocket up theſe wrongs

Becaufe,

Bauft. Your Breeches beſt may carry them.

John. Philip, what faſt thou to the Cardinal?

Con. What ſhould he ſay, but as the Cardinal?

Dolph. Behink you father, for the difference

Is purchase of a heavy curſe from Rome,
Or the light Iofſe of England, for a friend :

Forgoe the eſtayer.

Bla. That is the curſe of Rome.

Con. O Lewis, land faſt, the devil tempts thee here
In likeneſſe of a new untrimmed Bride.

Bla. The Lady Conſtance ſpeaks not from her faith,
But from her need.

Conſt. Oh, if thou grant my need,

Which only lives but by the death of faith,
That need, muſt needs inferre this principle,

That faith would live again by death of need :

A then tread down my need, and faith mounts up:
Keep my need up, and faith is troden down.

John. The kind is moved, and anſwers not to this.

Conſt. O be remov'd from him, and anſwer well :
Auſt. Do I king Philip, hang no more in doubt.

Bauft. Hang nothing but a Calves-skin moſt freeſt loue.
Fran. I am perſplext, and know not what to ſay.

Pan. What canſt thou ſay, but will perſplex thee more?

If thou land excommunicate, and curſt?

Fran. Good reverend father, make my perſon yours,
And tell me how you would beſlow your ſelf?

This Royall hand, and mine are newly knit,
And the conjunction of our inward ſouls

Married in league, coupled and link'd together

With all Religious ſtrength of ſacred vows:
The lateſt breath that gave the found of words,

Was deep-ſworn faith, peace, amity, true love

Between our kingdoms and our Royal ſelves,
And even before this truce, but new before,

No longer than we well could waſh our hands,
To clap this Royal bargain up of peace,

Heaven knows they were befearnd and over-ſtain'd
With ſlaughers pencil ; where revenge did paint
The fearful difference of incensed Kings :

And ſhall theſe hands ſo lately purg'd of blood?

So newly joyn'd in love? ſo ſtrong in both,

Unyoke this ſeſure, and this kind regreſt?

Play faſt and loofe with faith? ſo Jeſt with heaven,

Make ſuch unconſtant children of our ſelves

As now again to ſtitch our palm from palm ?

Un-ſwear faith ſworn, and on the marriage bed
Of smiling peace to march a bloody Hoaſt,

And make a rior on the gentle brow

Of true ſincerity ? O holy fir

My reverend father, let it not be ſo;

Out of your grace, devife, ordain, impoſe

Some gentle order, and then we ſhall be bleſt
To do your plexſure and continue friends.

Pand. All ſform is ſormleſſe. Order orderleſſe,
S we what is oppoſite to Englands love.

Therefore to Arms, be champion of our Church,
Or let the Church our Mother breach her curſe,
A Mothers curſe on her revolting ſon.

France, thou mayſt hold a Serpent by the tongue,
A cated Lion by the mortal paw,

A faſting Tyger ſafer by the tooth,

Than keep in peace that hand which thou doſt hold.

Fran. I may dis-joyn my hand, but not my faith,

Pand. So makſt thou faith an enemy to faith,
And like a civil war ſett oath to oath,

Thy tongue againſt thy tongue. O let thy vow

Firſt made to Heaven, firſt be to Heaven perform'd,
That is, to be the Champion of our Church,
What ſince thou ſwor't, is ſworn againſt thy ſelf,
And may not be performed by thy ſelf,

For that which thou haſt ſworn to do amiffle,

Is not amiffle when it is truly done :

And being not done, where doing tends to ill,
The truth is then moſt done not doing it:

The better Act of purpofes miſtook,

Is to miſtake again, though indirect,

Yet indirectement thereby grows direct,

And falſehood, falſehood cures, as fire cools fire

Within the ſcorching veins of one new burn'd,

It is Religion that doth make vows kept,
But thou haſt ſworn againſt Religion :

By what thou ſwear't, againſt the thing thou ſwear't:

And mak't an oath the ſureſt for thy truth:

Against an oath the truth, thou art unſure

To ſwear, ſwears, only not to be forſworn,

Elſe what a mockery ſhould it be to ſwear ?

But thou doſt ſwear, onely to be forſworn,

And moſt forſworn to keep what thou doſt ſwear,

Therefore thy latter vows, againſt thy firſt,

Is in thy ſelf ſebelittling to thy ſelf:

And better conſeult never canſt thou make,
Than arm thy conſant and thy nobler parts

Againſt theſe giddy loofe ſuggelions :

Upon which better part, our pray'rs come in

If thou vouchſaſe them. But if not, then know

The peril of our curſes light on thee

So heavy, as thou haſt not ſhake them off
But in deſpair, dye under their black weight.

Auſt. Rebellions, flat rebellion.

Bauft. Wil't not be?

Will not a Calves-skin ſtop that mouth of thine ?

Daul. Father, to Arms.

Blanch. Upon thy wedding day?

Againſt the blood that thou haſt married ?

What, ſhall our ſeafe be kept with ſlaughtered men ?

Shall braying Trumpets, and loud churliſh Drums

Clamours of hell, be meaſures to our pomp ?

O husband hear me: ay, alack, how new

Is Husband in my mouth ſeven for that name

Which till this time my tongue did nere pronounce;

Upon my knee I beg, go not to Arms

Againſt mine uncle.

Conſt. O, upon my knee, made hard with kneeling,
I do pray to thee, thou vertuous Daulphin.
Alter not the doom fore-thought by heaven.

Blan. Now ſhall I fee thy love, what motive may
Be ſtronger with thee, than the name of wife ?

Conſt. That which upholdeth him, that thee upholds,
His honour. Oh thine honour, Lewis thine honour.

Dolph. I mufe your Majeſty doth ſeem to cold,
When ſuch profound reſpects do pull you on?

Pand. I will denounce a curſe upon his head.

Fra. Thou ſhalt not need. England, I will fall from thee.
Conſt. O fair return of baniſh'd Majeſty.

Elea. O foul revolt of French inconſtancy.

Eng. France, thou haſt rue this hour within this hour.

Bauft.

The first Part of King Henry the Sixth.

443

King. And those occasions,Uncle, were of force:
Therefore my loving Lords, our pleasure is,
That Richard be retred to his Bloud.

Warm. Let Richard be retred to his Bloud,
So shall his Father's wrongs be recompense't.

Winch. As will the rest, to willleth VWinchester.

King. If Richard will be true, not that alone,
But all the whole Inheritance I give,

That doth belong unto the House of Tork,

From whence you Spring, by Lineal Deſtene

Rich. Thy humble servant vows obedience,

And humble ſervie, till the point of death.

King. Stoop then, and let you Knee against my Foot,
And in reguerdon of that duty done,
I girt thee with the valiant Sword of Tork.

Rife Richard, like a true Plantagenet,

And rife creased Prinely Duke of Tork.

Rich. And to thrive Richard, as thy foes may fall,
And as my duty ſprings, to pe in they,
That grudge one Thought against your Majety.

All. Welcome high Prince, the mighty Duke of Tork.

Sow. Perish bare Prince, ignoble Duke of Tork.

Gloſt. Now will it bafe avail your Majestät,
To crotſ the Seas, and to be Crown'd in France:

The prefence of a King engender's love

Amongt his Subjects and his loyal Friends,

As it dis-animates his Enemies.

King. When Gloſter says the word, King Henry goes,
For friendly counſel cuts off many Foes.

Gloſt. Your Ships already are in readiness.

Exeunt.

Manet Exeter.

Exe. I, we may march in England or in France,

Not feeing what is likely to enſue ;

This late diſſenion grown betwixt the Peers,

Burns under faſſed aſſes of forſd love,

And will at last break out into a flame,

As ſeſred members rot but by degree,

Till bones and ſleth and finews fall away,

So will this bafe and envious diſcit breed.

And now I fear that fatal Propheſie,

Which in the time of Henry, nam'd the Fift,

Was in the mouth of every ſucking Babe,

That Henry born at Monmouth ſhould winne all,

And Henry born at Windsor ſhould lobe all:

Which is to plain, that Exeter doth with,

His dayes may finch, e're that hapleſs time.

Exit.

## Scena Secunda.

Enter Puzel diſguſ'd and four Souldiers with
Sacks upon their backs.

Puzel. These are the Citie Gates, the Gates of Roan,
Through which our Policy muſt make a breach,
Take heed, be wary how you place your words,
Talk like the vulgar fort of Market men,
That come to gather Money for their Corn.
If we have entrance, as I hope we shall,
And that we find the floataſt Watch but weak,
I'le by a ſign give notice to our friends,
That Charles the Dolphin may encounter them.

Souldier. Our Sacks shall be a mean to ſack the City,
And we be Lords and Rulers over Roan,
Therefore we'll knock.

Watch, Che ta.

Knock.

Puzel. Peaſauns la pouure gens de France,

Poor Market folks that come to fell their Corn,

Watch. Enter, go in, the Market Bell is rung.

Puzel. Now Roan, I'le shake thy Bulwarkes to the ground.

Exeunt.

Enter Charles, Bastard, Alanfon.

Charles. Saint Dennis bleſs this happy Suatagem,
And once again we'll ſleep ſecure in Roan.

Bastard. Here entred Puzel, and her Practifants:
Now he is there, how will the ſpecifie?

He is the beſt and ſaſeſt paſſage in.

Reign. By thrusting out a Torch from yonder Tower,
Which once discern'd ſhews that her meaning is,
No way to that for wakneſts which the entred.

Enter Puzel on the top, thrusting out a
Torch burning.

Puzel. Behold, this is the happy Wedding Torch,
That Joyneth Roan unto her Countreymen,
But burning fatal to the Talbonites.

Bastard. See Noble Charles the Beacon of our friend,
The burning Torch in yonder Turret stands.

Charles. Now ſhines it like a Comet of Revenge,
A Prophet to the fall of all our Foes.

Reig. Deferre no time, delays have dangerous ends;
Enter and cry, the Dolphin, prefently,
And then do execution on the Watch.

Alarum.

An Alarum, Talbot in an Execution.

Talb. France, thou ſhalt me this Treafon with thy teares,
If Talbot but survive thy Treachery.

Puzel that Witch, that damned Sorcereſs,

Hath wrought this Helenth miſchief unawares,

That hardly we eſcap'd the Pride of France.

Exit.

An Alarum: Excursion, Bedford brought
in ſick in a Chair.

Enter Talbot and Burgonie without: within, Puzel,
Charles, Bastard, and Reigneir on the Walls.

Puzel. Good morrow Gallants, want ye Corn for Bread,
I think the Duke of Burgonie will ſaſt,

B fore he'll buy again at ſuch a rate.

'Twas full of Darnel: do you like the tafe ?

Burg. Scoff on vile Friend, and ſhameleſs Curtizan,
I truſt I'le long to choak thee with thine own,
And I'le the curſe the Harveſt of that Corn.

Charles. Your Grace may starve (perhaps) before that time.

Bedf. Oh let not words, but deeds, revenge this Treafon.

Puzel. What will you do, good gray-beard ?
Break a Launce, and run a-Tilt at Death,
Within a Chair.

Talb. Foul Fiend of France, and Hag of all deſpight,
Incompaſſ'd with thy luſſull Paramours,
Becomes it thee to taunt his valiant Age,
And twit with Cowardife a man half dead ?

Damfel, I'le have a bout with you again,

Or eſſe let Talbot perſil with this ſhame.

Puzel. Are ye ſo hot, Sir: yet Puzel hold thy peace,
If Talbot do but Thunder, Rain will follow.

They whisper together in counsel.

God ſpeed the Parliament: who ſhall be the Speaker ?

Talb. Dare

444

Talb. Dare ye come forth, and meet us in the field ?
Puzel. Belike your Lordship takes us then for fools,
To try if that our own be ours, or no.

Talb. I speak not to that railing Hecate,
But unto thee Alanfon, and the reft.
Will ye, like Souldiers, come and fight it out ?

Alanf. Seignior, no.

Talb. Seignior, hang : bare Muleters of France,
Like Pefant foot-Boyes do they keep the Walls,
And dare not take up Armes ,like Gentlemen.

Puzel. Away Captains, let's get us from the Walls,
For Talbot means no goodneſs by his Looks,
God buy my Lord, we came fir but to tell you
That we are here.

Exeunt from the walls.

Talb. And there we will be too, c're it be long.
Or eſle Reproach be Talbot's greatest ſame.

Vow Burgonie, by honour of thy houſe,
Prickes on by publick Wrongs ſuſtain'd in France,
Either to get the Town again, or dye.

And I, as ſure as English Henry lives,
And as his Father here was Conqueror ;
As ſure as in this late betrayed Town,
Great Cordelion's Heart was buried ;

So ſure I wear, to get the Town, or dye.

Burg. My Vowes are equal partners with thy
Vowes.

Talb. But e're we go, regard this dying Prince,
The valiant Duke of Bedford : Come my Lord,
We will beſtow you in ſome better place,
Fitter for fickneſs, and for crazie age.

Bedf. Lord Talbot, do not ſo diſhonour me :
Here I will ſit, before the Walls of Roan,
And will be partner of your weal or woe.

Burg. Couragious Bedford, let us now perſwade you.

Bedf. Not to be gone from hence, for once I read,
That ſour Pendragon, in his Litter ſick,
Came to the field, and vanquifhed his foes,
Me thinks I should revive the Souldieſs hearts,
Because I ever found them as my ſelf.

Talb. Undaunted ſpirit in a dying breaſt,
Then be it to: Heavens keep old Bedford ſafe,
And now no more adoe, brave Burgonie,
But gather we our Forces out of hand,
And fet upon our boafing Enemy.

Exit.

An Alarum : Excursions. Enter Sir John
Falſtaſt, and a Captain.

Cap. Whither away Sir John Falſtaſt, in ſuch haſte ?

Falſt. Whither away ? to ſave my ſelf by flight,
We are like to have the overthrow again.

Cap. What? will you ſlie, and leave Lord Talbot ?

Falſt. I, all the Talbots in the World, to ſave my life.

Exit.

Capt. Cowardly Knight, ill fortune follow thee.

Exit.

Retreat. Excursions. Puzel, Alanfon, and
Charles flie.

Bedf. Now quiet Soul, depart when Heaven please,
For I have ſeen our Enemies overthrow.

What is the truſt or ſtrength of ſoolſh man ?

They that of late were daring with their ſcoſſes,
Are glad and ſain by flight to ſave themſelves.

Bedford dyes, and is carried by two in his Chair.

An Alarum. Enter Talbot, Burgonie, and
the reſt.

Talb. Loſt, and recovered in a day again,
This is a double Honour, Burgonie :

Yet Heavens have glory for this Victory.

Burg. Warlike and Martial Talbot, Burgonie
Inſhrines thee in his heart, and there erects
Thy Noble Deeds, as Valour's Monuments,

Talb. Thanks gentle Duke : but where is Puzel now?
I think her old Familiar is aſleep.

Now where's the Baſtard's braves, and Charles his glikes?
What all amort ? Roan hangs her head for grief,
That ſuch a valiant Company are fled.

Now will we take ſome order in the Town,
Placing therein ſome expert Officers,
And then depart to Paris, to the King,

For there young Henry with his Nobles lye.

Burg. What waits Lord Talbot, pleafeth Burgonie,

Talb. But yet before we go, let's not forget
The Noble Duke of Bedford, late deceaſ'd,

But fee his Exequies ſuſſell'd in Roan,

A braver Souldier never couched Launce,

A gentler heart did never ſway in Court.

But Kings and mightieſt Potentates muſt die,

For that's the end of humane miſeration.

Exeunt.

Scena Tertia.

Enter Charles, Baſtard, Alanſon, Puzel,
Puzel. Diſmay not (Princes) at this accident,
Nor grieve that Roan is ſo recovered :
Care is no cure, but rather corraſive,
For things that are not to be remedy'd :
Let fractick Talbot triumph for a while,
And like a Peacock ſweep along his tail,
We'll pull his Plumes, and take away his Train,
If Dolphin and the reſt will be but rul'd.

Charles. We have been guided by thee hitherto,
And of thy Cunning had no diſtidence,
One ſudden Foil ſhall never breed diſtruſt.

Baſtard. Search out thy wit for ſecret policies,
And we will make thee famous through the World.

Alanſ. We'll fet thy Statue in ſome holy place,
And have thee reverenc't like a bleſſed Saint.
Employ thee then, ſweet Virgin, for our good.

Puzel. Then thus it muſt be, this doth John devide:
By perſwafions, mixt with ſugred words,
We will intice the Duke of Burgonie
To leave the Talbot, and to follow us.

Charles. I marry Sweeting, if we could do that,
France were no place for Henrie's Warriours,
Nor ſhould that Nation boaſt it ſo with us,
But be extirpied from our Provinces.

Alanſ. For ever ſhould they be expulſ'd from France,
And not have Title of an Earldome here.

Puzel. Your Honours ſhall perceive how I will work,
To bring this matter to the wifed end.

Drumme ſounds a-far off.

Heark, by the found of Drumme you may perceive
Their Powers are marching unto Paris-ward.

Here ſound an English March.

There goes the Talbot with his Colours ſpred,
And all the Troops of English after him.

French.

### French March.

Now in the Rereward comes the Duke and his:
Fortune in favour makes him lagge behind.

Summon a Parley, we will talk with him.

### Trumpets found a Parley.

Charles. A Parley with the Duke of Burgonie?

Burg. Who craves a Parley with the Burgonie?

Puzel. The Princely Charles of France, thy Countreyman.

Burg. What sayt thou Charles ? for I am march-ing hence.

Charles. Speak Puzel, and enchant him with thy words.

Puzel. Brave Burgonie, undoubted hope of France,
Stay, let thy humble hand-maid speak to thee.

Burg. Speak on, but be not over-tedious.

Puzel. Look on thy Countrey, look on fertile France,
And fee the Cities and the Towns defac't,

By wafting Ruine of the cruel Foe,

As looks the Mother on her lowly Babe,
When Death doth clothe his tender-dying Eyes,

See, fee the pining Malady of France:

Behold the Wounds, the most unnatural Wounds,
Which thou thy self haft given her wo full Breast.

Oh turn thy edged Sword another way,

Strike thole that hurt, and hurt not thole that help:

One drop of Blood, drawn from thy Countrie's Boſome,
Should grieve thee more then ſtreames of common gore.

Return thee therefore with a floud of Teares,

And wath away thy Countries flained Spots.

Burg. Either he hath bewitche me with her words,
Or Nature makes me suddenly relent.

Puzel. Besides, all French and France exclaims on
Doubting thy Birth and lawfull Progenie.
(theree,
Whom joyn'ft thou with, but with a Lordly Nation,

That will not truſt thee, but for Profits fake ?

When Talbot hath ſet footing once in France,
And fashion'd thee that Inſtrument of Ill,

Who then, but English Henry, will be Lord,

And thou be: truſt out, like a Fugitive ?

Call we to mind, and mark but this for proof:

Was not the Duke of Orleance thy Foe ?

And was he not in England Prifoner ?

But when they heard he was thine Enemie,

They fet him free, without his Ransome pay'd,

In ſpight of Burgonie and all his friends,

See then, thou fight't againſt thy Countrey men,

And joyn'ſt with them will be thy flaugether-men.

Come, come, return ; return thou wandring Lord,

Charles and the reſt will take thee in their armes.

Burg. I am vanquified:

Theſe haughty words of hers

Have Batt red me like roaring Cannon-Boſt,

And made me almost yield upon my knees.

Forgive me Countrey, and I weet Countreymen :

And Lords accept this hearty kind embrace.

My Forces and my Power of men are yours.

So farewell Talbot, I'le no longer truſt thee.

Puzel. Done like a Frenchman: turn and turn again,

Charles. Welcome brave Duke, thy friendſhip makes
us freth.

Bastard. And doth beget new Courage in our Breaths.

Alanf. Puzel hath bravely play'd her part in this,
And doth deferve a Coronet of Gold.

Charles. Now let us on, my Lords,
And joyn our Powers,

And feek how we may prejudice the Foe.

Exit.

### Scena Quarta.

Enter the King, Glouceſter, Winchefter, York, Suffolk,
Somerset, Warwick, Exeter: To them, with
his Souldiers, Talbot.

Talb. My gracious Prince, and honourable Peers,
Hearing of your arrival in this Realm,

I have a while given Truce unto my Warres,

To doe my duty to my Soveraign.

In ſign whereof, this Arme, that hath reclaim'd

To your obedience, ſoffe Fortrefſes,

I twelve Cities, and ſeven walled Towns of ſtrength,

Befide five hundred Prifoners of eſtream;

Let fall his Sword before your Highneſt ſeet:

And with ſubmiſſive loyalty of heart

Aſcribes the Glory of his Conqueſt got,

First to my God, and next unto your Grace.

King. Is this the Lord Talbot, Uncle Glouſeſter,
That hath ſo long been refident in France.

Gloſt. Yes, if it pleafe your Majefty, my Liege,

King. Welcome, brave Captain, and victorious Lord.

When I was young (as yet I am not old)

I do remember how my Father faid,

A flout er Champion never handled Sword.

Long ſince we have resolved of your truth,

Your faithfull ſervice, and your toil in War :

Yet never have you taſted our Rewa d,

Or bee reguerdon'd with ſo much as Thanks,

Becaufe 'till now, we never ſaw your face ;

Therefore stand up, and for theſe good deferts,

We here create you Earl of Shremſbury,

And in our Coronation take your place.

Exeunt.

### Manent Vernon and Baffet.

Vern. Now Sir, to you that were ſo hot at Sea,

Difgracing of theſe Colours that I wear,

In honour of my Noble Lord of York,

Dar'ſt thou maintain the former words thou ſpak'ſt ?

Baff. Yes Sir, as well as you dare patronage

The envious barking of your fawcie Tongue,

Againſt the Duke of Somerset.

Vern. Sir, thy Lord I honour as he is.

Baff. Why what is he ? as good a man as York,

Vern. Heark ye: not ſo: in witneſſe take you that.

Strikes him.

Baff. Villain, thou knoweſt

The Law of Armes is ſuch,

That who ſo drawes a Sword, 'tis preſent death,
Or eſſe this Blow should broach thy deareſt Bloud.

But I'leunto his Majefty, and crave,

I may have liberty to venge this Wrong,

When thou (halt fee, I'le meet thee to thy coſt.

Vern. Well miſcreant, I'le be there as ſoon as you,
And after meet you, ſooner then you would.

Exeunt.

Enter

["The first Part of King Henry the Sixth.", "Actus Quartus. Scena Prima.", "Enter King, Gloster, Winchester, York, Suffolk, Somerset, Warwick, Talbot, and Governor Exeter.", "Glo. Lord Bifhop, fet the Crown upon his head.", "Win. God fave King Henry of that name the fixt.", "Glo. Now Governor of Paris take your Oath,", "That you elect no other King but him ;", "Eftaem none friends, but fuch as are his Friends,", "And none your Foes, but fuch as fhall pretend", "Malicious prætices againſt his State :", "This ſhall ye de, ſo help you rightcous God.", "Enter Falſaffe.", "Fal. My gracious Sovereign, as I rode from Calice,", "To haſte unto your Coronation :", "A Letter was deliver'd to my hands,", "Writ to your Grace, from th' Duke of Burgundy.", "Tal. Shame to the Duke of Burgundy, and thee :", "I vow'd (bafe Knight) when I did meet thee next,", "To tear the Garter from thy Craven's leg,", "Which I have done, becaufe (unworthily)", "Thou was't inſtalled in that High Degree.", "Pardon my Princely Henry, and the reſt :", "This Daftard, at the Battel of Poſtiers,", "When (but in all) I was fix thouſand (trong,", "And that the French were almoſt ten to one,", "Before we met, or that a ſtroke was given,", "Like to a trutty Squire, did run away.", "In which affault we loft twelve hundred men.", "My ſelf, and divers Gentlemen befide,", "Were there ſurpriz'd, and taken prifoners.", "Then judge (great Lords) if I have done amifs :", "Or whether that ſuch Cowards ought to wear", "This Ornament of Knighthood, yea or no ?", "Glo. To ſay the truth, this fact was infamous,", "And ill befeeming any common man :", "Much more a Knight, a Captain, and a Leader.", "Tal. When firſt this Order was ordain'd my Lords,", "Knights of the Garter were of Noble birth ;", "Valiant, and Virtuous, full of haughty Courage,", "Such as were grown to credit by the Warres :", "Not fearing Death, nor ſhrinking for Diftrefſ.", "But alwaies refolute, in moſt extreames.", "He then, that is not furniſh'd in this ſort,", "Doth but urſup the Sacred name of Knight,", "Prophaning this moſt Honourable Order,", "And ſhould (if I were worthy to be Judge)", "Be quite degraded, like a Hedge-born Swain,", "That doth prefume to boaſt of Gentle Bloud.", "K. Stain to thy Countrie men, thou heart ſt thy doom;", "Be packing therefore, thou that waſt a Knight :", "Henceforth we baniſh thee on pain of death.", "And now my Lord Protecſor view the Letter,", "Sent from our Uncle Duke of Burgundie.", "Glo. VVhat means his Grace, that he hath chang'd his ſtyle ?", "No more but plain and bluntly ? (To the King.)", "Hath he forgot he is his Sovereign ?", "Or doth this churliſh Superſcription", "Pretend ſome alteration in good will?", "What's here ? I have upon eſpecial cauſe,", "Mov'd with compassion of my Countries wrack,", "Together with the pitſiful complaints", "Of ſuch as your Oppreſſion feeds upon,", "Forfaken your pernicious Fauſion,", "And joynd with Charles, the rightfull king of France.", "O monſtrous Treachery ! Can this be ſo ?", "That in alliance, amity, and oaths,", "There should be found ſuch falſe diſſembling guile ?", "King. What ? doth my Uncle Burgundy revolt ?", "Glo. He doth, my Lord, and is become my foe.", "King. Is that the workt this Letter doth contain ?", "Glo. It is the workt, and all (my Lord) he writes.", "King. Why then, Lord Talbot, there ſhall talk with\nAnd give him chaſtification for this abufe,\nhim,", "How ſay you (my Lord) are you not content ?", "Tal. Content my Liege? Yes: but that I am prevented,\nI should have begg'd I might have been employ'd.", "King. Then gather ſtrength, and march unto him\nſtraight:", "Let him perſtive how ill we brook his Treſaon,\nAnd what offence it is to flout his Friends.", "Tal. I go, my Lord, in heart defiring ſkill\nYou may behold conſuption of your foes.", "Enter Vernon and Baſſet.", "Ver. Grant me the Combat, gracious Sovereign.", "Baſ. And me (my Lord) grant me the Combate too.", "York. This is my Servant, hear him noble Prince.", "Som. This and this is mine (weet Henry) favour him,", "King. Be patient Lords, and give them leave to ſpeak,\nSay Gentlemen, what makes you thus exclaim", "And wherefore crave you Combate ? Or with whom ?", "Ver. With him (my Lord) for he hath done me wrong.", "Baſ. And I with him, for he hath done me wrong.", "King. What is that wrong whereon you both complain?", "Firſt let me know, and then I'le anſwer you,", "Baſ. Croſſing the Sea, from England into France,", "This fellow here with carping tongue,", "Upbraided me about the Rofe I wear,", "Saying, the ſanguine colour of the Leaſes", "Did preſent my Maſter's bluſhing cheeks:", "When ſtubbornly ne did repnſu the truth,", "About a certain queſtion in the Law,", "Argu'd betwixt the Duke of York, and him :", "With other vile and ignominious termes.", "In conſuption of which rude Reproach,", "And in defence of my Lord's worthineſs,", "I crave the benefit of Law of Armes.", "Ver. And that is my petition (Noble Lord.)", "For though he feem with forged quent conceit", "To fet a gloſs upon his bold intent,", "Yet know (my Lord) I was provok'd by him,", "And he firſt took exceptions at this badge,", "Pronouncing that the paleneſs of this Flower,", "Bewray'd the faintneſs of my Maſter's heart.", "York. Will not this malice, Somerſet, be left ?", "Som. Your private grudge, my Lord of York, will out,\nThough ne're to cunningly you ſmother it.", "King. Good Lord, what madneſs rules in brain-\nfick men,", "When for ſo flight and frivolous a cauſe,", "Such ſaſtious emulations ſhall arife ?", "Good Cousins both of Yorſk and Somerſet,", "Quiet your ſelves, and be at peace.", "Yorſk. Let this diſſention firſt be tried by fight,\nAnd then your Highneſs ſhall command a Peace.", "Som. The quarrel toucheth none but us alone,\nBetwixt our ſelves let us decide it then.", "Yorſk. There is my pledge, accept it Somerſet.", "Ver. Nay let

The first Part of Henry the Sixth.

Baf. Confirm it so, mine honourable Lord.
Glo. Confirm it so? Confounded be your trife,
And perth ye with your audacious prate ;
Preemptuous vassals, are you not alham'd
With this immodest clamorous outrage,
To trouble and disturb the King, and us ?
And you my Lords, me thinks you do not well
To hear with their pervere Objections :
Much left to take occasion from their mouthes,
To raile a mutiny betwixt your selvess :
Let me perfude you take a better course.
Exeter. It grieves his Highneſs,
Good my Lords, be friends,

King. Come hither you that would be Combatants,
Henceforth I charge you, as you love our favour,
Quite to forget this Quarrel, and the caufe.
And you my Lords: Remember where you are,
In France, amongst a fickle wavering Nation :
If they perceive diffention in our looks,
And that within our selves we difagree ;
How will their grudging fomacks be provok'd
To wilfull Difobedience, and Rebell ?
Beſide, What infamy will there arife,
When Foreign Princes ſhall be certified,
That for a toy, a thing of no regard,
King Hemrie's Peers, and chief Nobility,
Dethroy'd themelvels, and loſt the Realm of France ?
O think upon the Conqueſt of my Father,
My tender yeares, and let us not forgoe
That for a trifle, that was bought with blood,
Let me be Umpier in this doubtfull trife:
I fee no reaſon if I wear this Rofe,
That any one ſhould therefore be ſupſicious
I more endleme to Somerſet, then York:
Both are my kinfmen, and I love them both.
As well they may upbraid me with my Crown,
Because (forlooth) the King of Scots is Crown'd.
Beyour diſcrections better can perfwade,
Then I am able to inſtruct or teach :
And therefore as we hither came in peace,
Soler us ſtill continue peace and love.

Gof. of York, we inſtitute your Grace
To be our Regent in theſe parts of France :
And good my Lord of Somerſet, unite
Your toops of horſemen, with his Bands of ſtoot,
And like true ſubjeets, ſonnes of your Progenitors,
Go chearfully together, and digeſt
Your angry Choler on your Enemies,
Our ſelf, my Lord Protector, and the reſt,
After ſome reſpite will return to Calice ;
From thence to England, where I hope I e're long
To be preſented by your Viſtories,

To be preſented by your Viſtories,
With Charles, Alainſon, and that traiterous Rout.
Exeunt. Manet Tork, Warwick, Exeter, Vernon.

War. My Lord of Tork, I, promife you the King
Drearily (me thought) did play the Orator.
Tork. And ſo he did, but yet I like it not,
In that he weares the badge of Somerſet.
War. Tuff, that was but his fancie, blame him not,
I dare preſume (sweet Prince) he thought no harm.
Tork. And if I wifh he did. But let it reſt,
Other affairs muſt now be managed. Exeunt.
Flourish.
Manet Exeter.

Exeunt. Well didſt thou Richard to ſuppreſs thy voice:
For the paffions of thy heart buſt out,
I tear we should have been decipher'd there

More rancorous ſpight, more furious Raging broils,
Then yer can be imagin'd or ſuppos'd :
But howſoe're, no ſimple man that fees
This jarring diſcord or Nobilitie,
This shouldering of each other in the Court,
This faſtious bandying of their Favoureds,
By that it doth preſage ſome ill event.

This much, when Scepters are in Childrens hands :
But more, when Envy breeds unkind Divifion :
Then comes the Ruine, there begins Confufion.
Exit.

Enter Talbot with Trumpet and Drumme,
before Burdeaux.

Talb. Go to the Gates of Burdeaux, Trumpeter,
Summon their General unto the Wall. Sounds,
Enter General Aloft.

Englilſh John Talbot (Captains) calls you forth,
Servant in Armes to Harry King of England,
And thus he would : Open your City Gates,
Be humbled to us, call my Soveraign yours,
And do him homage as obedient ſubjeets,
And I'le withdraw me, and my bloudy power.
But if you frown upon this proffer'd Peace,
And tempt the fury of my three Attendants,
Lean Famine, quartering Steel, and climbing Fire,
Who in a moment, even with the earth,
Shall lay your flately, and air-braving Towers,
If you forſake the offer of their love.

Cap. Thou ominous and ſtearfull Owl of death,
Our Nations terror, and their bloudy ſcourge,
The period of thy Tyrany approacheth,
On us thou canſt not enter but by Death :
For I proteſt we are well fortified,
And ſtrong enough to ille out and fight.
If thou retire, the Dolphin well appointed,
Stands with the ſhares of War to tangle thee.
On either hand thee, there are ſquadrons pitch,
To wall the from thee liberty of Flight;
Ten thousand French have ta'n the Sacrament,
And no way canſt thou turn thee for Redreſſe,
But death doth front thee with apparent ſpoil,
And pale deſtruction meets thee in the face :
To rive their dangerous Artillery

Upon no Chriſtian foul but Englilſh Talbot :
Loe, there thou ſtand'ſt a breathing valiant man.
Of an invincible unconquer'd ſpirit :
This is the lateſt Glory of thy Praife,
That I thy enemy dew thee withall:
For e're the Glaſs that now begins to run,
Finilſh the proceſſe of his ſandy hour,
These eyes that fee thee now well coloured,
Shall fee thee witherred, bloudy, pale, and dead.

Drum a-far off.

Heark, heark, the Dolphin's drum, a warning Bell,
Sings heavy Muſick to thy timorous ſoul,
And mine ſhall ring thy dire departure out.
Exit.

Talb. He Fables not, I heard the enemy :
Out fome light Horſemen, and perſue their Wings,
O negligent and heedleſſe Discipline,
How are we park'd and bounded in a pale ?
A little Heard of Englands Timorous Deer,
'Maz'd with a yelping kennel of French Curres.

If we be Englilſh Deer, be then in bloud
Not Raſcal-like to fall down with a pnch,
But rather moodie mad: And desperate Stagges,
Turn

448

Turn on the bloudy Hounds with heads of Steel,
And make the Cowards stand aloof at bay:
Sell every man his life as dear as mine,
And they shall find dear Deer of us my Friends,
God, and S. George, Talbot and Englands Right,
Proper our Colours in this dangerous fight.
Exeunt.

Enter a Messanger that meets York. Enter York with Trumpet, and many Souldiers.

York. Are not the speedy Sćouts return'd again,
That dog'd the mighty Army of the Dolphin ?
Meff. They are return'd my Lord, and give it our,
That he is march'd to Burdeaux with his power
To fight with Talbot : as he march'd along,
By your eſpyals were diſcovered
Two mightier Troops then that the Dolphin led,
Which joyn'd with him, and made their march for

(Burdeaux.)

York. A plague upon that Villain Somerſet,
That thus delayes my promiſed ſupply
Of horſemen, that were levied for this ſledge.
Renowned Talbot doth expect my aid,
And I am lowted by a Traitor Villain,
And cannot help the noble Chevalier :
God comfort him in this neceſſity :
If he miſcarry, farewell Warres in France.

Enter another Messanger.

2. Meſ. Thou Princely Leader of our English ſtrength,
Never ſo needfull on the earth of France,
Spur to the Refcue of the Noble Talbot,
Who now is girdled with a waſte of Iron,
And hem'd about with grim deſtruction :
To Burdeaux, warlike Duke, to Burdeaux York,
Elle farewell Talbot, France, and Englands honour.

York. O God, that Somerſet who in proud heart
Doth ſtop my Cornets, were in Talbot's place,
So should we have a valiant Gentleman,
By forſeiting a Traitor and a Coward :
Mad ire, and wrathfull fury makes me weep,
That thus we die, while remiſſe Traitors ſleep.

Mef. O ſend me ſuccour to the diſtreft Lord.

York. He dies, we loſe : I break my warlike word :
We mourn, France ſmiles: We loſe, they dayly get,
All long of this vile Traitor Somerſet.

Mef. Then God take mercy on brave Talbot's ſoul,
And on his Son young John, who two hours ſince,
I met in travel towards his warlike Father :
This ſeven yeares did not Talbot fee his ſon,
And now they meet where both their lives are done.

York. Alas, what joy ſhall noble Talbot have,
To bid his young ſon welcome to his Grave:
Away, vexation almoſt ſtops my breath,
That ſtundred friends greet in the hour of death.
Lucie farewell, no more my fortune can,
But curſe the caufe I cannot aid the man.
Maine, Bloys, Poytiers, and Toures, are won away,
Long all of Somerſet, and his delay.
Exit.

Mef. Thus while the Vulture of ſedition,
Feeds in the boſome of ſuch great Commanders,
Sleeping neglectment doth betray to loſſe :
The Conqueſt of our ſcarce cold Conqueror,
That ever-living man of Memorie,
Henry the fifth: Whileſt they each other croſs,
Lives, Honours, Lands, and all, hurrie to loſs.

Exit.

Enter Somerſet with his Army.

Som. It is too late, I cannot ſend them now:
This expedition was by York and Talbot,
Too rafely plotted. All our general force,
Might with a fally of the very Town
Be buckled with: the over-daring Talbot
Hath fulliſed all his gloſs of former Honour
By this unheedfull, deferpe, wilde adventure:
York ſet him on to fight, and die in ſhame,
That Talbot dead, great York might bear the name,
Cap. Here is Sir William Lucie, who with me
Set from our o're-matcht forces forth for aid.

Som. How now Sir William, whither were you ſent?
Lu. Whither my Lord? from bought and fold L, Talbot,
Who ring'd about with bold adverſitie,
Cryes out for noble York and Somerſet,
To beat affailing death from his weak Regions :
And whiles the honourable Captain there
Drops bloudy sweat from his war-wearied limbs,
And in advantage lingring looks for Refcue,
You his falſe hopes, the truſt of Englands honour,
Keep off aloof with worthleſs emulation :
Let not your private diſcord keep away
The levied ſuccours that ſhall lend him aide,
While he renowned Noble Gentleman
Yields up his life unto a world of odds,
Orleance the Baſtard, Charles, and Burgundie,
Alanfon, Reignard, compaſs him about,
And Talbot perſitheth by your default.

Som. York ſet him on, York ſhould have ſent him
aide.

Luc. And York as ſaſt upon your Grace exclaims,
Swearing that you with-hold his levied hoſt,
Collected for this expedit ion.

Som. York ies: He might have ſent, and had the Horſe:
I ewe him little Dutie, and Ieſs Love,
And take ſoul ſcorn to ſawn on him by ſending.

Luc. The fraud of England, not the force of France,
Hath now intrapt the Noble-minded Talbot :
Never to England ſhall he bear his life,
But dies betraid to ſonneure by your ſtrife.

Som. Come go, I will diſpatch the Horſemen ſtraight
Within fix hours, they will be at his aid.

Luc. Too late comes Refcue, if he is tane or ſlaine,
For ſlie he could not, if he would have ſled :
And ſlie would Talbot never though he right.

Som. If he be dead, brave Talbot then adieu.

Luc. His fame lives in the World. His ſhame in you.

Exeunt.

Enter Talbot and his Son.

Tal. O young John Talbot, I did ſend for thee
To tutor thee in ſtratagems of War,
That Talbot's name might Le in thee reviv'd,
When ſapleſs Age, and weak unable limbs
Should bring thy father to his drooping Chair.
But O malignant and ill-boading Starres,
Now art thou come unto a ſeaſt of death,
A terrible and unavoidable danger :
Therefore dear Boy, mount on my swifſt horſe,
And I'le direct thee how thou ſhalt eſcap e.
By ſudden flight. Come, dally not, be gone.

John. Is my name Talbot ? and am I your Son?

Shall

["The first part of King Henry the Sixth.", "449", "And shall I flye? O, if you love my Mothers,", "Difhonour not her honourable Name,", "To make a Baftard and a flave of me :", "The World will fay, he is not Talbot's blood,", "That hafely fled, when Noble Talbot ftood.", "Talb. Flye, to revenge my death, If I be flain.", "John. He that flies so, will ne're return again.", "Talbot. If we both flyt, we both are fure to dye.", "John. Then let me ftay, and, Father, do you flye :", "Your loffe is great, so your regard should be:", "My worth unknown, no loffe is known in me.", "Upon my death, the French can little boast ;", "In yours they will, in you all hopes are loft.", "Eight cannot ftain the honour you have won,", "But mine it will, that no exploit have done.", "You fled for Vantage, every one will fwear :", "But if I bow, they'll fay it was for fear.", "There is no hope that ever I will ftay,", "If the first hour I shrink and run away :", "Here on my knee I beg Mortality.", "Rather then Life, prefery'd with Infamy.", "Talb. Shall all thy Mothers hopes lye in one Tomb ?", "John. I, rather then I'le fhamme my Mothers Womb.", "Talb. Upon my bleffing I command thee go.", "John. To fight I will, but not flye the Foe.", "Talb. Part of thy Father may be fav'd in thee.", "John. No part of him, but will be fhamme in me.", "Talb. Thou never hadt Renown, nor canft not loffe it.", "John. Yes, your renowned Name : falft flight abuse it ?", "Tal. Thy Fathers charge ſhall clear thee from the ftain.", "John. You cannot wittneſſe for me, being flain.", "If Death be so apparent, then both flye.", "Talb. And leave my followers here to fight and die ?", "My age was never tainted with fuch ſhame.", "John. And shall my Youth be guilty of fuch blame ?", "No more can I be ſevered from your fide,", "Then can your felf, your felf in twain divide :", "Stay, go, do what you will, the like do I ;", "For live I will not, if my Father die.", "Talb. Then here I take my leave of thee, fair Son,", "Born to eclipse thy life this afternoon :", "Come, fide by fide, together live and die,", "And Soul with Souſt from France to heaven flye.", "Exeunt.", "Alarm : Excursions, wherein Talbot's Son is hemm'd about, and Talbot reſcues him.", "Tal. S. George, and Victory, fight Souldiers, fight :", "The Regent hath with Talbot broke his word,", "And left us to the rage of France his Sword.", "Where is John Talbot ? pawſe, and take thy breath,", "I gave thee Life, and reſcued thee from Death.", "John. O twice my Father, twice am I thy Son :", "The Life thou gav'ft me first, was loſt and done ;", "Till with thy Warlike Sword, deſpight of Fate,", "To my determin'd time thou gav'ft new date.", "Talb. When from the Dolphins Creſt thy Sword ſtruck\nIt warm'd thy Fathers heart with proud defire (ſire,\nOf bold-fac'd Victory. Then Leaden Age,\nQuicken'd with Youthfull Spleen, and Warlike Rage,", "Beat down Alanfon, Orleance, Burgundy,", "And from the pride of Gallia reſcued thee.", "The irefull Baſtard Orleance, that drew blood", "From thee my Boy, and had the Maidenhood", "Of thy first fight, I ſoon encountered,", "And interchanging blows, I quickly ſhed", "Some of his Baſtard blood, and in ditgrace", "Bespoke him thus: Contaminated, bafe,", "And mis-begotten blood, I ſpill of thine,", "Mean and right poor, for that pure blood of mine,", "Which thou didſt force from Talbot, my brave Boy.", "Here purpofing the Baſtard to delroy,", "Came in ſtrong refcue. Speak thy Fathers care :", "Art thou not weary, John ? How doſt thou fare ?", "Wilt thou yet leave the Battell, Boy, and flye,", "Now thou art feal'd the Son of Chivalry ?", "Flye, to revenge my death when I am dead,", "The help of one ſtands me in little ſtead.", "Oh, too much folly is it, well I wot,", "To hazard all our lives in one ſmall Boat.", "If I to day dye not with French-mens Rage ;", "To morrow I ſhall die with mickle age.", "By me they nothing gain, and if I flay,", "'Tis but the ſhortning of my Life one day.", "In thee thy Mother dies, our Houſeholds Name,", "My Deaths Revenge, thy Youth, and Englands ſame :", "All theſe, and more, we hazard by thy ſtay :", "All theſe are fav'd, if thou wilt flye away.", "John. The Sword of Orleance hath not made me ſmart,\nThefe words of yours draw Life-blood from my heart.", "On that advantage, bought with fuch a ſhame,", "To fave a paltry Life, and flay bright ſame,", "Before young Talbot from old Talbot flye,", "The Coward Horſe that bears me, fall and die :", "And like me to the pezant Boyes of France,", "To be ſhames ſcorn, and ſubject of Mifchance.", "Surely, by all the Glory you have won,", "And if I flye, I am not Talbot's Son.", "Then talk no more of flight, it is no boot,", "If Son to Talbot, die at Talbot's foot.", "Talb. Then follow thou thy deſp'rate Sire of Creet", "Thou Icarus, thy life to me is ſweet :", "If thou wilt fight, fight by thy Fathers ſide,", "And commendable prov'd let's die in pride.", "Exit.", "Alarum. Excursions. Enter old", "Talbot led.", "Talb. Where is my other Life ? mine own is gone.", "O, where's young Talbot ? where is valiant John ?", "Tiumpianht Death, linear'd with Captivity,", "Young Talbot's Valour makes me ſmile at thee.", "When he perceiv'd me ſhrink, and on my Knee,", "His bloody Sword he brandiſht over me,", "And like a hungry Lyon did commence", "Rough deeds of Rage, and ſtern impatience :", "But when my angry Guardant ſtood alone,", "Tendring my ruine, and affaïll of none,", "Dizzy-ey'd Fury, and great rage of heart,", "Suddenly made him from my fide to ſtare", "Into the cluſtring Battell of the French :", "And in that Sea of Blood, my Boy did drench", "His over-mounting Spirit; and there di'd", "My Icarus, my Bloſſome in his pride.", "Enter with John Talbot, born.", "Serv. O, my dear Lord, loe where your Son is born,", "Ta, Thou antick Death

Speak to thy Father, ere thou yield thy breath,
Brave death by speaking, whether he will or no:
Imagine him a French-man, and thy Foe.
Poor Boy, he smiles, me thinks, as who should fay,
Had Death been French, then Death had died to day.
Come, come, and lay him in his Fathers armes,
My spirit can no longer bear thefe harmes.
Souldiers adieu : I have what I would have,
Now my old armes are young John Talbots grave.
Dies.

Actus Quintus. Scena Prima.

Euter Charles, Alanfon, Burgundy, Baſtard,
and Puzell.

Char. Had York and Sommerſet brought refcue in,
We ſhould have found a bloody day of this.
Baſt. How the young whelp of Talbots raging wood,
Did flesh his puny ſword in French-mens blood.
Puz. Once I encountered him, and thus I faid:
Thou Maiden youth, be vanquifht by a Maid.
But with a proud Maſejicall high ſcorn
He anſwer'd thus: Young Talbot was not born
To be the pillage of a Giglot Wench,
He left me proudly, as unworthy fight.

Bur. Doubtlesſe he would have made a noble Knight:
See where he lies inhearſed in the armes
Of the moſt bloody Nurſer of his harmes.

Baſt. Hew them to pieces, hack their bones aſunder,
Whole life was Englands glory, Galliæs wonder,
Char. Oh no forbear : For that which we have fled
During the life, let us not wrong it dead.

Enter Lucy.

Lu. Herald, conduct me to the Dolphins Tent,
To know who hath obtain'd the glory of the day.

Char. On what ſubmultive moffage art thou ſent?

Lucy. Submission, Delphin? 'Tis a meer French word:
We English Warriours wor not what it means.
I come to know what Prisoners thou haſt tane,
And to ſurvey the bodies of the dead.

Char. For prifoners ask'ft thou ? Hell our prifon is,
But tell me whom thou seek'ft ?

Luc. But where's the great Alcides of the field,
Valiant Lord Talbot, Earl of Shrewsbury?
Created for his rare ſucceſſe in Armes,
Great Earl of Wathford, Waterford, and Valence,
Lord Talbot of Goodrig and Urchinfield,
Lord Strange of Blackmere, Lord Verdon of Alton,
Lord Cromwell of Wingfield, Lord Furnival of Sheffeild,
The thrice victorious Lord of Falconbridge,
Knight of the Noble Order of S. George,
Worthy S. Michael, and the Golden Fleece,
Great Marſhall to our King Henry the fixt,
Of all his Wars within the Realm of France.

Puz. Here's a filly flately ſtile indeed :
The Turk that two and Fifty Kingdomes hath,
Writes not so tedious a Stile as this.
Him that thou magniſ't with all theſe Titles,
Stinking and flye-blown lies here at our feet,
Lucy. Is Talbot flain, the French-mens only Scourge,
Your Kingdomes terour, and black Nemesis ?
Oh were mine eye-balls into Bullets turn'd,
That I in rage might fhoot them at your faces.

Oh, that I could but call theſe dead to life,
It were enough to fright the Realm of France.
Were but his Picture left amongst you here,
It would amaze the proudeſt of you all,
Give me their Bodies, that I may bear them hence,
And give them Buriall, as beſeems their worth,
Puz. I think this upſtart is old Talbot's Ghoſt,
He ſpeaks with ſuch a proud commanding ſpirit:
For Gods ſake let him have him : to keep them here,
They would but ſink, and putrifhe the aire.
Char. Go take their Bodies hence.
Lucy. I'le bear them hence : but from their afhes ſhall
be rear'd.

A Phoenix that ſhall make all France affear'd. (wilt,
Char. So we be rid of them, do with them what thou
And now to Paris in this conquering vein,
All will be ours, now bloody Talbot's flain.
Exit.

Scena Secunda.

Enter King, Gloeſter, and Exeter.

King. Have you perus'd the Letters from the Pope,
The Emperour, and the Earl of Arminack?

Glo. I have, my Lord, and their intent is this,
They humbly ſue unto your Excellence,
To have a godly peace concluded of,
Between the Realms of England and of France.

King. How doth your Grace affect their motion?

Glo. Well (my good Lord) and as the only means
To ſtop effuſion of our Chriſtian blood,
And ſtablish quietneſſe on every ſide.

King. I marry, Uncle, for I always thought
It was both impious and unnaturall,
That ſuch immanity and bloody ſtrife
Should raign among Proſeffors of one Faith,

Glo. Befide, my Lord, the ſooner to effect,
And ſurer bind this knot of amity,
The Earl of Arminack near knit to Charles,
A man of great Authority in France,
Proſſers his onely Daughter to your Grace,
In marriage, with a large and ſumptuous Dowry.

King. Marriage, Uncle ? Alas my yeares are young:
And fitter is my ſtudy, and my Books,
Than wanton dalliance with a Paramour.
Yet call th'Embaffadours, and as you pleafe,
So let them have their anſwers every one :
I ſhall be well content with any choyce
Tends to Gods glory, and my Countreys weal.

Enter Winchefter, and three Ambaſſadours.

Exeter. What, is my Lord of Winchefter inſtall'd,
And call'd unto a Cardinalls degree?
Then I perceive, that will be vereſed
Henry the Fifth did ſometime propheſie.
If once he come to be a Cardinall,
He'll make his Cap coquall with the Crown.

King. My Lords Ambaſſadours, your ſeverall ſuits
Have bin confider'd and debated on,
Your purpofe is both good and reaſonable:
And therefore are we certainly reſolv'd,
To draw conditions of a friendly peace,

Which

451

Which by my Lord of Winchester we mean
Shall be transported presently to France.

Glo. And for the proffer of my Lord your Master,
I have inform'd his Highneffe to at large,
As liking of the Ladies virtuous gifts,
Her beauty, and the value of her Dower,
He doth intend the shall be Englands Queen.

King. In argument and proof of which contract,
Bear her this jewel, pledge of my affection,
And so, my Lord Protector, see them guarded,
And fairly brought to Dover, wherein I'llipp'd
Commit them to the fortune of the Sea.

Exeunt.

Win. Stay, my Lord Legate, you shall fit me receive
The fumme of mony which I promised
Should be delivered to his Holinffe,

For cloathing me in these grave Ornaments.

Legat. I will attend upon your Lordships leffure.

Win. Now Winchefter will not submit, I trow,
Or be inferior to the proudest Peer.

Humphrey of Glofter, thou shall well perceive,
That neither in birth, or for authority,
The Bilhop will be over-born by thee :

I'll either make the ftop, and bend thy knee,
Or lack this Country with a mutiny.

Exeunt.

## Scena Tertia.

Enter Charles, Burgundy, Alanfon, Baftard,
Reignier, and Joan.

Charl. This newes (my Lords) may cheer our drooping spirits:

Tis faid, the ftout Parifians do revolt,

And return again unto the warlike French,

Alan. Then march to Paris Royall Charles of France.
And keep not back your power in dalliance.

Puz. Peace be amongst them if they turn to us,
Elle ruine combat with their Pallaces.

Enter Scout.

Scout. Successe unto our valiant Generall,
And happineſſe to his accomplices,

Char. What tidings ſend our Scouts? I prethee ſpeak,
Scout. The English Army that divided was
Into two parties, is now conjoyn'd in one,

And means to give you Battell prefentely.

Char. Somewhat too fudden Sirs, the warning is,
But we will prefentely provide for them.

Bur. I truſt the Ghoſt of Talbot is not there :
Now he is gone, my Lord, you need not fear.

Puz. Of all bafe paffions, Fear is moſt acurſt.
Command the Conqueſt Charles, it ſhall be thine :

Let Henry fret, and all the world repine.

Char. Then on my Lords, and France be fortunate.

Exeunt.

Alarum.

Excursions.

Enter Joan de Puzell.

Puz. The Regent conquers, and the French-men flye.
Now help ye charming Spells and Periaps,
And ye choyſe ſpirits that admoniſh me,

And give me signs of future accidents.

Thunder.

You ſpeedy helpers, that are Substitutes

Under the Lordly Monarch of the North,
Appear, and aid me in this enterprize.

Enter Fiends.

This ſpeedy and quick appearance argues proof
Of your accuſtome'd diligence to me.

Now ye familiar Spirits, that are cull'd
Out of the powerfull Regions under earth,

Help me this once, that France may get the field.

They walk, and ſpeak not.

Oh hold me not with ſilence over long :

Where I was wont to feed you with my blood,
I'll ope a member off, and give it you

In earneſt of a further benefit :

So you do conſeſſe to help me now.

They hang their heads.

No hope to have redreſſe ? My body ſhall
Pay reconſpence, if you will grant my ſuit.

They ſhake their heads.

Cannot my body, nor blood-facrifice,
Intreat you to your wonted furtherance ?

Then take my ſoul; my body, ſoul, and all,

Before that England give the French the ſoyl.

They depart.

See, they forſake me. Now the time is come,
That France muſt vail her lofty plumed Creſt,

And let her head fall into Englands lap.

My anciest Inricantions are too weak,

And helſo too ſtrong for me to buckle with :

Now France thy glory droopeth to the duſt.

Exeunt.

Excursions. Burgundy and York fight hand to
hand. French flye.

York. Dam ſell of France, I think I have you ſaſt,
Unchain your ſpirits now with ſpelling Charmeſ,
And try if they can gain your liberty.

A goodly prize, fit for theDEVIL'S grace.

See how the ugly WITCH doth bend her brows,

As if with Circe, ſhe would change my ſhape.

Puz. Chang'd to a worſer ſhape thou canſt not be.

Tor. Oh, Charles the Dolphin is a proper man,

No ſhape but his can pleafe your dainty eye.

Puz. A plaguing miſchief light on Charles and thee,

And may ye born be ſudden ſurpris'd

By bloody hands, in ſleeping on your beds.

Tork. Fell banning Hag, Inchantreſſe hold thy
tongue.

Puz. I prethee give me leave to curſe a while.

Tor. Curſe Mifcreant, when thou com't to the ſtake.

Exeunt.

Alarum. Enter Suffolk with Margaret in his hand.

Suf. Be what thou wilt, thou art my prifoner.

Gazes on her.

Oh faireſt Beauty, do not fear, nor flye :

For I will touch thee but with reverend hands,

I kife theſe fingers for eternall peace,

And lay them gently on thy tender ſide.

Who art thou, ſay ? that I may honour thee.

Mar. Margaret my name, and daughter to a King,
The King of Naples, who ſo ere thou art.

Suf. And Earl I am, and Suffolk am I call'd.

Be not offended, Natures miracle,

Thou art alotted to be tane by me :

So doth the Swan her downy Cignets ſave,

Pp 2

Keep-

["The first Part of King Henry the Sixth.", "452", "Keeping them prisoners underneath her wings :", "Yet if this fervile usage once offend,\nGo, and be free again, as Suffolk's friend. She is going.", "Oh say : I have no power to let her paffe,", "My hand would free her, but my heart fayes no.", "As plays the Sun upon the glaftt streams,", "Twinkling another counterfeited beam,", "So seems this gorgeous beauty to mine eyes,", "Fain would I wooe her, yet I dare not speak :", "I'le call for Pen and Ink, and write my mind :", "Fie De la Pole, disable not thy self :", "Haft not a Tongue ? Is she not here thy prifoner ?", "VVilt thou be daunted at a VVomans fight ?", "I : Beauties Princely Majety is such,", "Confounds the Tongue, and makes the feness rough.", "Mar. Say Earl of Suffolk, if thy name be so,", "VVhat ranfome muft I pay before I paffe ?", "For I perceive I am thy prifoner.", "Suf. How canst thou tell she will deny thy suit,", "Before thou make a triall of her love ? (pay ?)", "M. VVhy I speak'ft thou not ? VVhat ranfome muft I pay ?", "Suf. She's beautifull; and therefore to be VVood :", "She is a VVoman, therefore to be wonne.", "Mar. VVilt thou accept of ranfome, yea or no ?", "Suf. Fond man, remember that thou haft a wife,", "Then how can Margaret be thy Paramour ?", "Mar. I were beft to leave him, for he will not hear.", "Suf. There all is marr'd : there lies a cooling card.", "Mar. He talks at randome : cure the man is mad.", "Suf. And yet a diuaffenation may be had.", "Mar. And yet I would that you would anſwer me :", "Suf. I'le win this Lady Margaret. For whom ?", "VVhy for my King : Tuſh, that's a wooden thing.", "Mar. He talks of wood : It is ſome Carpenter.", "Suf. Yet ſo my fancy may be tafſified,", "And peace eſtabliſhed between theſe Realms.", "But there remains a ſeruple in that too :", "For though her Father be the King of Naples,", "Duke of Anjou and Man, yet is he poor,", "And our Nobility will ſearn the match,", "Mar. Hear ye Captain ? are you not at leifure ?", "Suf. It shall be ſo, diſdain they ne're ſo much :", "Henry is youthfull, and will quickly yield.", "Madam, I have a ſecret to reveal.", "Mar. VVhat though I be inthraill'd, he ſeems a Knight,", "And will not any way diſhonour me.", "Suf. Lady, vouchiaſe to liffen what I lay.", "Mar. Perhaps I shall be ſeſc'u'd by the French,", "And then I need not crave his curſeſe.", "Suf. Sweet Madam, give me hearing in a caufe.", "Mar. Tuſh, women have been captivate ere now.", "Suf. Lady, wherefore talk you so ?", "Mar. I cry you mercy, 'tis but Quid for Quo.", "Suf. Say gentle Princeſle, would you not ſuppofe", "Your bondage happy, to be made a Queen ?", "Mar. To be a Queen in bondage, is more vile,", "Than is a ſlave, in bate fervility :", "For Princes ſhould be free.", "Suf. And ſo shall you,", "If happy Englands Royall King be free.", "Mar. Why, what concerns his freedome unto me ?", "Suf. I'le undertake to make thee Henry's Queen,", "To put a Golden Scepter in thy hand,", "And fet a precious Crown upon thy head,", "If thou wilt conſeend to be my -----", "Mar. What ?", "Suf. His love.", "Mar. I am unworthy to be Henry's wife.", "Suf. No, gentle Madam, I unworthy am", "To wooe ſo fair a Dame to be his wife,", "And have no portion in the choyce my ſelf.", "How ſay you, Madam, are you ſo content ?", "Mar. And if my Father pleafe, I am content.", "Suf. Then call our Colours and our Captains forth,", "And Madam, at your Fathers Castle walls,", "We'll crave a parley to conferre with him,", "Sound. Enter Reignier on the Walls.", "See Reignier ſee, thy daughter prifoner,", "Reig. To whom ?", "Suf. To me.", "Reig. Suffolk, what remedy ?", "I am a Souldier, and unapt to weep,", "Or to exclaim on Fortunes ſickleneffe.", "Suf. Yes, there is remedy enough my Lord,", "Content, and for thy Honour give conſent,", "Thy Daughter ſhall be wedded to my King,", "Whom I with pain have woo'd and won thereto:", "And this her eafe held imprifonment,", "Hath gain'd thy Daughters Princely liberty.", "Reig. Speaks Suffolk as he thinks ?", "Suf. Fair Margaret knows,", "That Suffolk doth not flatter, face, or fain.", "Reig. Upon thy Princely warrant, I conſend,", "To give thee anſwer of thy juſt demand.", "Suf. And here I will expect thy comming.", "Trumpets found. Enter Reignier.", "Reig. Welcome, brave Earl, into our Territories,", "Command in Anjou your Honour pleases.", "Suf. Thanks Reignier, happy for to ſweet a Child,", "Fit to be made Companion with a King :", "What anſwer makes your Grace unto my ſuit ?", "Reig. Since thou doſt daign to wooe her little worth,", "To be the Princely Bride of ſuch a Lord :", "Upon condition I may quietly", "Enjoy mine own, the Country Main and Anjou,", "Free from oppreſſion, or the ſtroke of War,", "My Daughter ſhall be Henry's, if he pleafe.", "Suf. That is her ranſome, I deliver her,", "And thofe two Counties I will undertake", "Your Grace ſhall weil and quietly enjoy.", "Reig. And I again in Henry's Royallname,", "As Deputy unto that gracious King,", "Give thee her hand for sign of plighted faith,", "Suf. Reignier of France, I give thee Kingly thanks,", "Because this is in Traſſick to be well.", "And yet methinks I could be well content", "To be mine own Atturncy in this cafe,", "I'le over then to England with this newes,", "And make this marriage to be ſolemniz'd :", "So farewell Reignier, let this Diamond ſafe", "In golden Pallaces as it becomes.", "Reig. I do embrace thee, as I would embrace.", {"bbox": [673, 1218,

453

But, Madam, I must trouble you again,
No loving Token to his Majety?

Mar. Yes, my good Lord, a pure unspotted heart,
Never yet taint with love, I tend the King.

Sauf. And this withall.

Kiffe her

Mar. That for thy self, I will not so presume,
To tenduch preciseth Tokens to a King.

Sauf. Oh went thou for my self: but Suffolk stay,
Thou mayest not wander in that Labyrinth,
There Minotaur, and ugly Treaſons lurk.
Solitie Henry with her wondrous prauife,
B-think thee on her Virtues that furmount,
Made naturall Graces that extinguith Art,
Repeat their temblance often on the Seas,
That when thou com't to kneel at Heary's feet,
Thou mayſt bereave him of his wits with wonder. Exit.

Enter Yorke Warwick, Shepheard, Puzel.

Tor. Bring forth that Sorcereſſe condemn'd to burn.
Shep. Ah, *Joan*, this kills thy Fathers heart out-right,
Have I fought every Countrey far and near,
And now it is my chance to find thee out,
Milt I behold thy timeſtelle: cruell death :
Ah *Joan*, sweet Daughter, I'le die with thee.
Puz. Decrepit Mifer, bafe ignoble Wretch,
I am ſcended of a gentler blood,
Thou art no Father, nor no Friend of mine.

Shep. Out, out: My Lords, and pleafe you, 'tis not so,
I did beget thee, all the Parifh knows:
Her Mother liveth yet, can tettifie
She was the firſt fruit of my Batch'lor-ship,

War. Graceleſſe, wift thou deny thy Parentage ?

Tor. This argues what her kind of life hath been,

Wicked and vile, and ſo her death concludes.

Shep. Fie *Joan*, that thou witt be ſo obſtacle :
God knows, thou art a collop of my ſlesh,
And for thy ſake have I ſhed many a tear :

Deny me not, I pray thee, gentle *Joan*.

Puz. Pezant avant, you have ſuborn'd this man
Of purpose, to obſcure my Noble birth.

Shep. 'Tis true, I gave a Noble to the Prief,  
The morn that I was wedded to her Mother.  
Kneel down and take my bleſſing, good my Girl,  
Wilt thou not loop ? Now curſed be the time

Of thy nativity: I would the Milk
Thy Mother gave thee when thou ſuck'dt her Breſt,
Had bin a little Ratsbane for thy ſake.
O ſelſe, when thou didſt keepe my Lamb's a field,
I with ſome ravenous Wolf had eaten thee.

Dost thou deny thy Father, curſed Drab ?
O burn her, burn her, hangiug is too good.

Exit.

Tor. Take thy away, for he ha't liv'd too long,
To fill the world with vicious qualities.

Puz. First let me tell you whom you have conden'd,
Not me, begotten of a Shepheard Swain ;
But influed from the Progeny of Kings.
Virtuous and Holy, choſen from above,
By inſpiration of Celestiall Grace,
To work exceeding miracles on earth.
I never had to do with wicked Spirits,

But you that are polluted with thy luſts,
Sain't with the guiltleſſe blood of Innocents,
Corrupt and tainted with a thouſand Vices :
Because you want the grace that others have,
You judge it straight a thing impoſible
To compaſſe Wonders, but by help of Devils.

No unconcern'd, *Joan* of Aire hath upon
A Virgin from her tender infancy,

Chafte, and immaculate, in very thought,
Whofe Maiden-blood thus rigorouſly effus'd,
Will cry for vengeance at the Gates of heaven.

Tor. I, I: away with her to execution.

War. And heark ye ſi: because ſhe is a Maid,

Spare for no Faggots', e: there be enow :

Place Barrels of pitch upon the fatal flake,

That ſo her torture may be ſhortned.

Puz. Will nothing turn your unrelenting hearts?

Then *Joan* diſcover thine infirmity,

That warranteth by Law, to be thy privilege.

I am with Child, ye bloody Homicides :

Murther not then the Fruit within my Womb,

Although ye hale me to a violent death.

Tor. Now heaven forſend, the holy Maid with Child?

War. The great ſt miracle that ere ye wrought :

Is all your ſtrict preciſeneſſe come to this ?

Tor. She and the Dolphin have bin jugging,

I did imagine what would be her ſervice.

War. Well, go to, we will have no Baſtards live,

Especially ſince Charles muſt Father it.

Puz. You are deceiv'd, my child is none of his,

It was *Alanſon* that enjoy'd my love.

Tor. *Alanſon*, that notorious Machevile ?

It dies, and if it had a thouſand lives.

Puz. Oh give me leave, I have deluded you,

'Twas neither *Charles*, nor yet the Duke I nam'd,
But Reignier King of Naples that prevail'd.

War. A married man I that's moſt intollable.

Tor. Why here's a Girl: I think ſhe knows not well
(There were ſo many) whom ſhe may acune.

War. I's a ſign ſhe had been liberall and free,

Tor. And yet forſeeth ſhe is a Virgin pure.

Strumper, thy words condemn thy Brat, and thee.

Ufe no intreaty, for it is in vain.

Pu. Then lead me hence: with whom I leave my curſe.

May never the glorious Sun reflex his beams

Upon the Country where you make abode :

But darkneſſe, and the gloomy ſhade of death

Inviron you, till Mischief and Defpair,

Drive you to break your necks, or hang your ſelves. Exit.

Enter Cardinall.

Tor. Break thou in pieces, and confume to affes,
You foul accuſed minifter of Hell.

Car. Lord Regent, I do greet your Excellence

With Letters of Commiffion from the King.

For know my Lords, the States of Chriſtendome,

Mov'd with remorſe of theſe outragicous broyles,

Have earnestly implor'd a general peace,

Betwixt our Nation, and that alpiring *French* ;

And hereat hand, the Dolphin and his Train

Approacheth, to conferre about ſome matters.

Tor. Is all our travell turn'd to this effect ?

After the ſlaughter of so many Peers,

So many Captains, Gentlemen, and Souldiers,

That in this quarrell have been overthrown,

And fold their Bodies for their Countries benefit,

Shall we at laſt conclude effeminat peace ?

Have we not loſt moſt part of all the Towns,

By treaſon, fallhood, and by treachery,

Our great Progenitors had conquered ?

Oh Warwick, Warwick, I foreſee with grief

The utter loſſe of all the Realm of France.

War. Be patient *Yorke*, if we conſtude a Peace,

Pp 3

It shall be with such strict and severe Covenants,
As little shall the French-men gain thereby.

Enter Charles, Alanson, Bastard, Reignier.

Char. Since Lords of England, it is thus agreed,
That peacefull truce shall be proclaim'd in France,
WVve come to be informed by your felves,
What the conditions of that league must be.

Tor. Speak Winchester, for boyling choller chokes
The hollow paflage of my povfond voyce,
By fight of thofe our balefull enemies.

Win. Charles, and the rest, it is enacted thus:
That in regard King Henry gives confent,
Of meer compaffion, and of lenity,
To cafe your Country of diſtreflefull VVar,
And fuffer you to breathe in fruitfull peace,
You shall become true Liegemen to his Crown,
And Charles, upon condition thou wilt fwear
To pay him tribute, and fubmit thy ſelf,
Thou ſhalt be pla'd as Viceroy under him,
And ſtill enjoy thy Regall dignity.

Alan. Muſt he be then as thadow of himſelf?
Adorn his Temples with a Coronet,
And yet in ſubſtance and authority,
Retain but privilege of a private man?
This proffer is abſtund, and reaſonleſſe.

Char. 'Tis known already that I am poffeſt
With more then half the Gallian Territories,
And therein reverenc'd for their lawfull King.
Shall I for lucre of the reſt un-vanquiſht,
Deaſt so much from that prerogative,
As to be call'd but Viceroy of the whole?
No, Lord Ambaffadour, I'le rather keep
That which I have, than coveting for more,
Be caſt from poſſibility of all.

Tor. Inſuſing Charles, haſt thou by ſecret means
Us'd interſection to obtain a league,
And now the matter grows to compremize,
Stand'ft thou aloof upon Comparifon.
Either accept the Title thou ulurp'ſt,
Of benefit proceeding from our King,
And not of any challenge of Deſert,
Or we will plague thee with ineſtant Warres.

Reig. My Lord, you do not well, in obſtinacy
To cavill in the course of this Contract:
If once it be neglected, ten to one
We ſhall not find like opportunity.

Alan. To ſay the truth, it is your policy,
To fave your Subjeſts from ſuch maſſacre
And ruchleſſe ſlaughters as are daily ſeen
By our proceeding in Hoffiſtitude.
And therefore take this contract of a Truce,
Although you break it, when your pleafure ſerves,
War. How ſay it thou Charles?

Shall our Condition stand?

Char. It ſhall:
O-only reſer'd, you claim no intereſt
In any of our Towns of Garrifon.

Tor. Then ſwear Allegiance to his Majeſtly,
As thou art Knight, never to diſobey,
Nor be Rebellious to the Crown of England,
Thou nor thy Nobles, to the Crown of England.
So, now diſmiffle your Army when ye pleate:
Hang up your Enſigns, let your Drummes be ſtill,
For here we entertain a ſolemn peace.

Exeunt.

Enter Suffolk in conference with the King,
Gloceſſer, and Exeter.

King. Your wondrous rare deſcription (noble Earl)
Of beauteous Margaret hath aftonifh'd me:
Her virtues graced with externall gifts,
Do breed Loves fetted paffions in my heart,
And like as rigour with tempeſtuous gufts
Provokes the mightieſt Hulk againſt the tide,
So am I driven by breath of her Renown,
Either to ſuffer Shipwrack, or arrive
Where I may have fruition of her Love.

Suf. Tuſh, my good Lord, this ſuperficiall tale,
Is but a preſace to her worthy prieſe:
The chief perſeſtions of that lovely Dame,
(Had I ſufficient skill to utter them)
Would make a volume of inticing lines,
Able to ravifh any dull conceit,
And which is more, he is not ſo Divine,
So full repleat with choyce of all delights,
But with as humble lowlineſe of mind,
She is content to be at your command:
Command I mean, of virtuous chaſſe intents,
To love, and honour Henry as her Lord.

King. And otherwife, will Henry ne're preſume:
Therefore, my Lord Proteſor, give confent,
That Margaret may be Englands Royall Queen.

Glo. So ſhould I give confent to flatter fin,
You know (my Lord) your Highneſſe is betroth'd
Unto another Lady of eſteem,
How ſhall we then diſpence with that contract,
And not deface your Honour with reproach ?

Suf. As doth a Ruler with unlawfull Oathes,
Or one that at a Triumph, having vow'd
To try his ſtrength, forſaketh yet the Lifts
By reaſon of his Adverſaries oddes,
A poor Earl's Daughter is unequal oddes,
And therefore may be broke without offence.

Glou. Why, what (I pray) is Margaret more than
Her Father is no better than an Earl,
(that?

Although in glorious Titles he excell.

Suf. Yes, my good Lord, her Father is a King,
The King of Naples and Jeruſalem,
And of ſuch great authority in France,
As his alliance will confirm our peace,
And keep the French-men in Allegiance.

Glo. And to the Earl of Arminack may do,
Because he is near Kinfman unto Charles.

Exet. Before, his wealth doth warrant liberall dower,
Where Reignier ſooner will receive than give.

Suf. A Dower, my Lords? diſpence not ſo your King,
That he ſhould be ſo abjeſt, bafe, and poor,
To choose for wealth, and not for perfect Love,
Henry is able to enrich his Queen,
And not to ſee k a Queen to make him rich:
So worthleſſe Pezants bargain for their Wives,
As Market-men for Oxen, Sheep, or Horſe.
But marriage is a matter of more worth,
Then to be dealt in by Atturney-ſhip:
Not whom we will, but whom his Grace aſſeets,
Muſt be companion of his Nuptiall bed.
And therefore, Lords, ſince he aſſeets her moſt,
Moſt of all theſe reaſons bindeth us,
In our opinions he ſhould be prefer'd,
For what is Wedlock ſorced, but a Hell,
An age of diſcord and continuall ſtrike?

Whereas

The second part of King Henry the Sixth.

To keep by policy what Henry got:

Have you your selves, Sommerfet, Buckingham,
Bray Tork, Salisbury, and victorious Warwick,
Receiv'd deep i'carres in France and Normandy:

Or hath mine tinckle Beauford, and my self,
With all the Learned Council of the Realm,
Sudied so long, far in the Council-houſe,
Early and late, debating to and fro

How France and French-men might be kept in awe,
And hath his Higneffe in his infancy,
Crowned in Paris in defpight of foes,
And shall these Labours, and these Honours die?

Shall Henry's Conqueſt, Bedfords vigilance,
Your Deeds of War, and all our Counſell die !
O Peers of England, flamefull is this League,
Fatall this Marriage, cancelling your Fame,
Blotting your names from Books of memory,
Racing the Characters of your Renown,
Defacing Monuments of Conquer'd France,
Undoing all, as all had never bin.

Car. Nephew, what means this paſſionate difcourſe?
This peroration with ſuch circumſtance:

For France, 'tis ours; and we will keep it ſtill.

Glo. I, Uncle, we will keep it, if we can :

But now it is impoffible we should.

Suffolks, the new made Duke that rules the roſt,
Hath given the Dutchy of Anjou and Main,
Unto the poor King Reignier, whose large ſtyle
Agrees not with the leanneſſe of his purſe.

Sal. Now by the death of him that di'd for all,
These Counties were the K.eyes of Normandy :

War. For grief that they are paſt recovery.

For were there hope to conquer them again,
My ſword should (had hot blood, mine eyes no teares,
Anjou and Main) My ſelf did win them both :

Thofe Provinces, theſe Armes of mine did conquer,
And are the Cities that I got with wounds,
Deliver'd up again with peacefull words?

Mor. Dieu.

Tor. For Suffolks Duke, may he be ſuffocate,
That dimmes the Honour of this Warlike Ille:
France ſhould have torn and rent my very heart,
Before I would have yielded to this League.

If never read but Englands Kings have had
Large ſummes of Gold, and Dowries with their wives,
And our King Henry gives away his own,
To match with her that brings no vantages.

Huh. A proper jefc, and never heard before,
That Suffolk should demand a whole Fifteenth,
For Coſts and Charges in tranſporting her :

She ſhould have ſtaid in France, and ſtar'd in France
Before------

Car. My Lord of Gloſter, now ye grow too hot,
It was the pleafure of my Lord the King.

Huh. My Lord of Wincheſter, I know your mind.
Tis not my Iſeeches that you do naſlike:

But 'tis my pretence that doth trouble ye, †
Rancour will out, proud Prelate, in thy face
If thy fury : If I longer ſtay,

We shall begin our ancient bickerings :
Londings farewell, and ſay when I am gone,
Propheſed, France will be loft ere long, Exit Humph.

Car. So, there goes our Protector in a rage :
Tis known to you he is mine enemy:
Nay more, an enemy unto you all,

And no great ſend, I fear me, to the King ;
Confider Lords, he is the next of blood,

And heir-pparant to the English Crown :
Had Henry got an Empire by his marriage,

And all the wealthy Kingdomes of the West,
There's reafon he ſhould be diſpleas'd at it:

Look to it Lords, let not his smootheing words
Bewitch your hearts, be wife an circumſpect.

What though the common people favour him,
Calling him, Humphrey the good Duke of Gloſter,
Clapping their hands, and crying with loud voyce,
Jefu maintain your Royall Excellence,

With God preferve the good Duke Humphrey.

I fear me, Lords, for all this flattering glotſe,
He will be found a dangerous Protector.

Bnc. Why ſhould he then protecſ our Soveraign ?
He being of age to govern of himſelf.

Couſin of Sommerſet, joyn you with me.
And altogether with the Duke of Suffolk,

We'll quickly houſe Duke Humphrey from his ſeat.

Car. This weighty buſineſſe will not brook delay,
Ile to the Duke of Suffolk preſently. Exit Cardinal.

Sons. Couſin of Buckingham, though Humphreys pride
And greatneſſe of his place be grief to us,
Yet let us watch the haughty Cardinall,

His insolence is more intollerable

Then all the P.inces in the Land beiſide,
If Gloſter be diſpla'd, he'll be Protector.

Buc. Or thou, or I, Sommerſet, will be Protector,
Defpight Duke Humphrey, or the Cardinall.

Exit Buckingham, and Sommerſet.

Sal. Pride went before, Ambition follows him.
While theſe do labour for their own preſeruement,
Behoves it us to labour for the Realm.

I never ſaw but Humphrey Duke of Gloſter,

Did bear him like a Noble Gentleman:

Oft have I feen the haughty Cardinall,

More like a Souſdier then a man o'th Church,

As ſtout and proud as he were Lord of all,

Swear like a Ruffian, and demean himſelf

Unlike the Ruler of a Common-weal.

Warwick my ſon, the comfort of my age,
Thy deeds, thy plainneſſe, and thy houſe-keeping,
Hath won the greateſt favour of the Commons,
Excepting none but good Duke Humphrey.

And Brother Tork, thy acts in Ireland,

In bringing them to civil Diſcipline:

Thy late exploits done in the heart of France,

When thou wert Regent for our Soveraign,

Have made thee jef'd and honour'd of the people,

Joyn us together for the publick good,

In what we can, to bridle and fuppreſſe

The pride of Suffolk, and the Cardinall,

With Sommerſets and Buckinghams ambition,

And as we may, cheriſh Duke Humphreys deeds,

While they do tend the profit of the Land.

War. So God help Warwick, as he loves the Land,
And common profit of his Country.

Tor. And so fayes Tork,
For he hath greateſt cauſe.

Sal. Then lets make hafte away,

And look unto the main ?

Warw. Vnto the main ?

Oh Father, Main is loft,

That Main, which by main force Warwick did win

And would have kept, so long as breath did laſt:

Main

459

That shall make an answer to such Questions,
As by your Grace shall be propounded him.

Elianus. It is enough, I'll think upon the Questions:
When from Saint Albans we do make return;
We'll fee those things effected to the full,
Here Hume, take this reward, make merry man
With thy Confederates in this weighty caufe.

Exit Elianus.

Hum. Hume must make merry with the Dutchefte
Marry and shall: but how now, Sir John Hume? (Gold:
Seal up your Lips, and give no words but Mum,
The busineſſe asketh silent fecrecy.
Dame Elianus gives Gold, to bring the Witch:
Gold cannot come amiffe, were he a Devil.
Yet have I Gold flies from another Coaſt:
I dare not ſay, from the rich Cardinall,
And from the great and new-made Duke of Suffolk:
Yet I do find it so for to be plain,
They (knowing Dame Elianors humour)
Have hired me to under-mine the Dutchefte,
And buzze theſe Conjurations in her brain.
They ſay, a crafty Knave do's need no Broker.
Yet am I Suffolk and the Cardinalls Broker,
Hume, if you take not heed, you shall go near
To call them both a pair of crafty Knaves.
Well, to it ſands : and thus I fear at laſt,
Humes Knavery will be the Dutchefte Wrack:
And her attainture will be Humphreys fall:
Sort how it will, I shall have Gold for all.

Exit.

Enter three or four Petitioners, the Armorers
Man being one.

1. Pet. My Maſters, let's stand close, my Lord Protec-
tor will come this way by and by, and then we may
deliver our Supplications in the Quill.

2. Pet. Marry the Lord Protecſt him, for he's a good man, Jefu bleſſe him.

Enter Suffolk, and Queen

Peter. Here a comes me thinks, and the Queen with him: I'll be the first ſure.

2. Pet. Come back, fool, this is the Duke of Suffolk,
and not my Lord Protector.

Suff. How now fellow : would it not any thing with me?

1. Pet. I pray, my Lord, pardon me, I took ye for my
Lord Protector.

Quee. To my Lord Protector ? are your Supplicati-
ons to his Lordship ? let me fee them: what is thine ?

1. Pet. Mine is, and't please your Grace, againſt John Goodman, my Lord Cardinals Man, for keeping my House, and Lands, and Wife and all from me,

Suff. Thy Wife too ? that's some Wrong indeed.
What's yours? what's here ? againſt the Duke of Suſ-
ſolk, for encloſing the Commons of Melford. How now,
Sir Knave ?

2. Pet. Alafs, Sir, I am but a poor Petitioner of our whole Townſhip.

Pet. Againſt my Maſter Thomas Horner, for ſaying,
That the Duke of York was rightfull Heir to the
Crown.

Quee. What ſayt thou ? Did the Duke of York ſay,
he was rightfull Heir to the Crown ?

Pet. That my Miftrefſe was ? No forſooth : my Ma-
ter ſaid, that he was ; and that the King was an Uſurper.

Suff. Who is there?

Enter Servant.

Take this fellow in, and ſend for his Maſter with a Pur-
fevant preſently : we'll hear more of your matter before
the King.

Exit.

Quee. And as for you that love to be protected
Under the wings of our Protecſors Grace,
Begin your ſuits anew, and ſue to him.

Tear the Supplication.

Away, bafe Cullions: Suffolk, let them go.

All. Come, let's be gone.

Exit.

Quee. My Lord of Suffolk, ſay, is this guife ?
Is this the Fathions in the Court of England ?

Is this the Government of Britains I'le ?
And this the Royalty of Albions King ?

What, shall King Henry be a Pupill ſill,
Under the furly Gloſters Governance ?
And I a Queen in Title and in Stile,

And muſt be made a Subject to a Duke ?

I tell thee Pool, when he in the City Tours

Thou rann't a tilth in honour of my Love,
And toſt away the Ladies hearts of France;

I thought King Henry had reſembled thee,

In Courage, Courtſhip, and Proportion :

But all his mind is bent to holineſſe,

To number Ave-Maries on his Beads;

His Champions, are the Prophets and Apoſtles;

His Weapons, holy Saws ofacred Writ,

His Study is his Tilt-yard, and his Loves

Are brazen Images of Canonized Saints.

I would the Colledge of the Cardinalls

Would chufe him Pope, and carry him to Rome,

And fet the Triple Crown upon his head ;

That were a State fit for his Holineſſe.

Suff. Madam, be patient : as I was cauſe
Your Highneſſ came to England, so will I
In England work yoar Graces full content.

Quee. Befide the haught Protector, have we Beauford
The imperions Church-man; Sommerſet, Buckingham,
And grumbling York: and not the leaf of theſe,
But can do more in England then the King.

Suff. And he of theſe that can do moſt of all,
Cannot do more in England then the Nevills:

Salisbury and Warwick are no ſimple Peers.

Quee. Not all theſe Lords do vex me half so much,
As that proud Dame, the Lord Protector's Wife:

She ſweeps it through the Court with troupes of Ladies,
More like an Emprefle, then Duke Humphreys Wife :
Strangers in Court, do take her for the Queen :

She bears a Dukes revenues on her back,
And in her heart ſhe ſcorms our Poverty :

Shall I not live to be aveng'd on her ?

Contemptuous bafe-born Callot as ſhe is,

She vaunted 'mongſt her Minions' tother day,

The very train of her worſt wearing Gown,

Was better worth then all my Fathers Lands,

Till Suffolk gave two Dukedomes for his Daughter.

Suff. Madam, my ſelf have lim'd a Buſh for her,
And plac't a Quier of ſuch enticing Birds,
That he will light to liffen to the Layes,

And never mount to trouble you again,

So let her reſt : and, Madam, lift to me,

For I am bold to counſell you in this :

Although we fancy not the Cardinall,

Yet muſt we joyn with him, and with the Lords,

Till we have brought Duke Humphrey in diſgrace.

A

The second Part of King Henry the Sixth.

As for the Duke of Tork, this late Complaint
Will make but little for his benefit :

So one by one we'll weed them all at last,
And you your self shall steer the happy Helm.

Exit.

Enter the King, Duke Humphrey, Cardinall, Buckingham, York, Salisbury, Warwick, and the Dutchesse.

King. For my part, Noble Lords, I care not which,
Or Sommerfet, or Tork, all's one to me.

Yor. If Tork have ill demean'd himself in Franço,
Then let him be denay'd the Regent-ship.

Som. If Sommerfet be unworthy of the Place,
Let Tork be Regent, I will yield to him.

Warw. Whether your Grace be worthy, yea or no,
Difpute not that, Tork is the worthier.

Card. Ambitious Warwick, let thy betters speak.

Warw. The Cardinall's not my better in the field.

Buck. All in this prefence are thy betters, Warwick.

War. Warwick may live to be the beſt of all.

Salisb. Peace Son, and ſhow ſome reafon Buckingham,

Why Sommerfet should be preferr'd in this ?

Quee. Because the King forſooth will have it so.

Hurm. Madam, the King is old enough himself

To give his Cenſure: Theſe are no Womens matters.

Quee. If he be old enough, what needs your Grace

To be Protecſor of his Excellence ?

Humph. Madam, I am Protecſor of the Realm,
And at his pleafure will reſign my Place.

Suff. Reſign it then, and leave thine inſolence.
Since thou wert King, as who is King, but thou ?

The Common-wealth hath daily run to wrack,

The Dolphin hath prevail'd beyond the Seas,

And all the Peers and Nobles of the Realm

Have been as Bond-men to thy Soveraignty.

Car. The Commons haſt thou rackt, the Clergies Bags
Are lank and lean with thy Extortions.

Som. Thy ſumptuous Buildings, and thy Wives Attire
Have coſt a mafle of publick Treafure.

Buck. Thy Cruelty in execution
Upon Offenders, hath exceeded Law,

And left thee to the mercy of the Law.

Quee. Thy ſale of Offices and Towns in Franço,
If they were known, as the ſuſpect is great,
Would make the quickly hop without thy Head,

Exit Humphrey.

Give me my Fan: what, Minion, can ye not ?

She gives the Dutchefſe a box on the ear.

I cry you mercy, Madam: was it you ?

Dutch. Was't I ? yea, I was, proud French-woman:
Could I come near your Beauty with my Nails,
I could fet my ten Commandements in your face.

King. Sweet Aunt be quiet, 'twas againſt her will.

Dutch. Against her will, good King ? look to't in time,
She'll hamper thee, and dandle thee like a Baby :
Though in this place moſt Maſter wears no Breeches,
She shall not ſtrike Dame Elianor unreveng'd.

Exit Elianor,

Buck, Lord Cardinall, I will follow Elianor,
And listen after Humphrey, how he proceeds :
She's tickled now, her Fume can need no ſpurres,
She'll gallop far enough to her deſtruction.

Exit Buckingham.

Enter Humphrey.

Humph. Now, Lords, my Choller being over-blown,
With walking once about the Quadrangle,
I come to talk of Common-wealth Affairs.

As for his ſpightfull falſe Objeſtions,
Prove them, and I lye open to the Law:
But God in mercy ſo deal with my Soul,

As I in Duty love my King and Country.
But to the matter that we have in hand :

I ſay, my Sovereign, Tork is meeteſt man

To be your Regent in the Realm of France.

Suff. Before we make election, give me leave
To ſhow ſome reaſon, of no little force,
That Tork is moſt unmeet of any man.

Tork. I'll tell thee, Suffolks, why I am unmeet.
First, for I cannot flatter thee in Pride :

Next, if I be appointed for the Place,

My Lord of Sommerfet will keep me here,

Without Discharge, Money, or Furniture :

Till France be won into the Dolphin's hands.

Left time I dan't attendance on his will,

Till Paris was beſieg'd, familts, and loſt.

Warw. That can I witneſſe, and a fouler fact

Did never Traytor in the Land commit.

Suff. Peace head-Strong Warwick.

Warw. Image of Pride, why should I hold my peace?

Enter Armorer and his Man.

Suff. Because here is a man accus'd of Treafon,
Pray God the Duke of Tork excufe himself.

Tork. Doth any one accufe Tork for a Traytor ?

King. What mean't thou, Suffolks? tell me, whatare
theſe ?

Suff. Pleaſe it your Maſeſty, this is the man
That doth accufe his Maſter of High Treafon :

His words were theſe : That Richard, Duke of Tork,
Was rightfull Heir unto the Engliſh Crown,
And that you Maſeſty was an Uſurper.

King. Say man, were theſe thy words ?

Armo. And't shall pleafe your Maſeſty, I never ſaid
nor thought any ſuch matter : God is my witneſſe, I am
ſaffly accus'd by the Villain.

Peter. By theſe ten bones, my Lords, he did ſpeak
them to me in the Garret one Night, as we were ſhow-
ring my Lord of Tork's Armour.

Tork. Bafe Dunghill Villain, and Mechanicall,
I'll have thy Head for this thy Traytors ſpeech :
I do beſeech your Royall Maſeſty,
Let him have all the rigour of the Law.

Ar. Alaf's, my Lord, hang me if ever I ſpake the words:
my accuſer is my Prentice, and when I did correct him
for his fault the other day, he did vow upon his Knees he
would be even with me: I have good witneſſe of this,
therefore I beſeech your Maſeſty, do not caſt away an
honest man for a Villains acuſation.

King. Uncle, what ſhall we ſay to this in Law ?

Humph. This doom, my Lord, if I may judge,

Let Sommerfet be Regent o're the Erench.

Because in Tork this breeds ſuſpicion :

And let theſe have a day appointed them.

For ſingle Combat, in convenient place,

For he hath witneſſe of his ſervants malice :

This is the Law, and this Duke Humphrey's doom.

Som.

463

Gloſt. But Cloakes and Gownes, before this day, a
many.

Wife. Never before this day, in all his life.

Gloſt. Tell me Sirrha, what's my Name ?

Simpc. Alas Matter, I know not.

Gloſt. What's his Name ?

Simpc. I know not.

Gloſt. Nor his ?

Simpc. No indeed, Maſter.

Gloſt. What's thine own Name ?

Simpc. Saunder Simpcox, and if it pleafe you, Maſter.

Gloſt. Then Saunder, fit there,

The lying it Knave in Chriftendome,

If thou had it been born blind,

Thou might it as well have known all our Names,

As thus to name the ſeveral Colours we do wear.

Sight may diſtinguſh Colours :

But suddenly to nominate them all,

It is impoffible.

My Lords, Saint Alban here hath done a Miracle :

And would ye not think it, Cunning to be great,

That could ſetref this Cripple to his Legges again ?

Simpc. O Maſter, that you could ?

Gloſt. My Maſters of Saint Albans,

Have you not Beadles in your Town,

And things call'd Whippes ?

Mayor. Yes, my Lords, if it pleafe your Grace,

Gloſt. Then ſend for one prefently.

Mayor. Sirrha, go fetch the Beadle hither ſtraight.

Exit.

Gloſt. Now fetch me a Stool hither by and by.

Now Sirrha, if you mean to ſave your ſelf from Whipping, leap me over this Stool, and run away.

Simpc. Alas Maſter, I am not able to ſtand alone :

You go about to torture me in vain.

### Enter a Beadle with Whippes.

Gloſt. Well Sir, we muſt have you find your Legges,
Sirrha Beadle, whip him till he leap over that fame
Stool.

Bead. I will, my Lord,

Come on Sirrha, off with your Doublet, quickly.

Simpc. Alas Maſter, what shall I do ? I am not able to ſtand.

After the Beadle hath hit him once, he leaps over the Stool, and runnes away : and they follow, and cry, A Miracle.

King. O God, feet thou this, and beareſt ſo long ;

Queen. It made me laugh, to ſee the Villain run.

Gloſt. Follow the Knave, and take this Drab away.¹

Wife. Alas Sir, we did it for pure need.

Gloſt. Let him be whipt through every Market Town
'Till they come to Barwick, from whence they came.

Exit.

Card. Duke Humfrey ha's done a Miracle to day.

Suff. True, made the Lame to leap, and flie away.

Gloſt. But you have done more Miracles then I :

You made in a day, my Lord, whole Towns to flie.

### Enter Buckingham.

King. What Tidings with our Couſtlin Buckingham ?

Buck. Such as my heart doth tremble to unfold :

A fort of naughty perſons, lewdly bent,

Under the Countenance and Confederacy

Of Lady Elianor, the Protector's wife,
The Ring-leader and head of all this Rout,
Have præctis'd dangerouſly againſt your State,
Dealing with Witches and with Conjurers,
Whom we have apprehended in the Fact,
Raſing up wicked Spirits from under ground,
Demanding of King Henrie's Life and Death,
And other of your Highneſts Privy Councel,
As more at large your Grace ſhall understand.

Card. And fo my Lord Protector, by this means
Your Lady is forth-coming, yet at London.

This newes I think hath turn'd your Weapon's edge ;
'Tis like, my Lord, you will not keep your hour.

Gloſt. Ambitious Church-man, leave to afflict my heart :
Sorrow and grief have vanquiſht all my powers ;
And vanquiſht as I am, I yield to thee,
Or to the meaneſt Groom.

King. O God, what miſchiefs work the wicked ones ?
Heaping confusion on their own heads thereby.

Queen. Gloſter, fee here the Tainſture of thy Neſt,
And look thy ſelf be faultleſs, thou wert beſt.

Gloſt. Madam, for my ſelf, to heaven I do appeal,
How I have lov'd my King, and Common-weal :
And for my Wife, I know not how it stands,
Sorry am I to hear, what I have heard.

Noble ſhe is: but if she have forgot

Honour and Virtue, and convers't with ſuch,

As like to Pitch, defile Nobility ;

I baniſh her my Bed, and Company;

And give her as a Prey to Law and Shame,

That hath dis-honoured Gloſter's meanſt name.

King. Well, for this Night we will repofe us here :

To morrow toward London, back again,

To look into this Bufineſs thorowly,

And call theſe foul Offendors to their anſwers ;

And poife the Caufe in Juitce equal Scales,

Whofe Beam stands ſure, whose rightfull cauſe prevails.

Exeunt.

### Enter York, Salisbury, and Warwick.

York. Now my good Lords of Salisbury and Warwick,
Our simple Supper ended, give me leave,
In this close Walk, to ſatisfie my ſelf,
In craving your opinion of my Title,
Which is inſalable to England's Crown.

Salisb. My Lord, I long to hear it thus at full.

Warw. Sweet York, begin : and if thy claim be good,
The Nevills are thy Subjeſts to command.

York. Then thus :

Edward the third, my Lords, had ſeven Sonnes :

The first, Edward the Black-Prince, Prince of Wales ;

The second, William of Hatfield ; and the third,

Lionel, Duke of Clarence : next to whom,

Was John of Gaunt, the Duke of Lancaſter ;

The fifth, was Edward Langley, Duke of York ;

The sixth, Thomas of Woodſtow, Duke of Gloſter,

William of Windsor, was the ſeventh, and laſt.

Edward the Black-Prince dyed before his Father,
And left behind him Richard, his only Son,

Who after Edward the third's death, raign'd King,
'Till Henry Bullingbrook, Duke of Lancaſter,

The eldeſt Son and Heir of John of Gaunt,

Crown'd by the Name of Henry the fourth,

Seiz'd on the Realm, depos'd the rightfull King,

Sent his poor Queen to France, from whence he came,

And

Qq 2

And him to *Pomfret*; where, as all you know,
Harmleſs King *Richard* was murthered traiterouſly.

*Warw.* Father, the Duke hath told the truth;
Thus got the Houſe of *Lancaster* the Crown.

*York.* Which now they hold by force, and not by right:
For *Richard*, the firſt Sonnes Heir, being dead,
The iſſue of the next Son ſhould have reign'd.

*Salis.* But *William of Hatfield* dyed without an Heir.

*York.* The third Son, Duke of *Clarence*,
From whose Line I claim the Crown,
Had iſſue *Philip*, a Daughter,

Who married *Edmond Mortimer*, Earl of March:
*Edmond* had iſſue, *Roger* Earl of March;

*Roger* had iſſue, *Edmond*, *Anne*, and *Elianus*.

*Salis.* This *Edmond*, in the Reign of *Bullingbrook*,
As I have read, laid claime unto the Crown,
And, but for *Owen Glendour*, had been King;
Who kept him in Captivity, till he dyed.

But, to the reſt.

*York.* His eldeſt Sifter, *Anne*,
My Mother, being Heir unto the Crown,
Married *Richard*, Earl of Cambridge,

Who was to *Edmond Langley*,
*Edward* the third's firſt Son's ſon;

By her I claim the Kingdome:
She then was Heir to *Roger*, Earl of March,

Who was the Son of *Edmond Mortimer*,

Who married *Philip*, fole Daughter

Unto *Lyonel*, Duke of *Clarence*.

So, if the iſſue of the elder Son

Succeed before the younger, I am King.

*Warm.* What plain proceeding is more plain then this:
*Henry* doth claim the Crown from *John* of Gaunt,

'Till *Lyonel's* iſſue fails, his ſhould not Reign,
It fails not yet, but flouriſhes in thee,

And in thy Sonnes, fair flips of ſuch a Stock,
Then Father *Salisbury*, kneel we together,

And in this private Plot be we the firſt,

That ſhall ſalute our rightfull Soveraign
With honour of his Birth-right to the Crown.

*Both.* Long live our Soveraign *Richard*, *England's*
King.

*York.* We thank you Lords:
But I am not your King, 'till I be Crown'd,
And that my Sword be ſtain'd

With heart-bloud of the Houſe of *Lancaster*:
And that's not ſuddenly to be perform'd,
But with advice and ſilent ſecrecy.

Do you as I do in theſe dangerous dayes,
Wink at the Duke of *Suffolk* s inſolence,
At *Beauford's* Pride, at *Somerset's* ambition,
At *Buckingham*, and all the Crew of them,
'Till they have ſnar'd the Shepheard of the Flock,
That virtuous Prince, the good Duke *Humfrey*:

'Tis that they ſeeke; and they, in ſeeking that,
Shall find their deaths, if *York* can propheſe.

*Salish.* My Lord, break we off; we know your
mind at full.

*Warw.* My heart affures me, that the Earl of *Warwick*
Shall one day make the Duke of *York* a King.

*York.* And *Nevil*, this I do affure my ſelf,
*Richard* shall live to make the Earl of *Warwick*
The greatest man in *England*, but the King.

*Exeunt.*

*Sound Trumpets. Enter the King and State with Guard, to baniſh the Dukeheſt.*

*King.* Stand forth Dame *Elianus Cobham*,
*Gloſter's* Wife:

In fight of God, and us, your guilt is great,
Receive the ſentence of the Law for fin,
Such as by God's Book are adjudg'd to death,
You four from hence to Prifon, back again
From thence, unto the place of Execution;

The Witch in *Smithfield* ſhall be burnt to aſhes,
And you three ſhall be ſtrangled on the Gallows.

You Madam, for you are more Nobly born,

Deſpoiled of your Honour in your life,
Shall, after three days open Penance done,

Live in your Countrey here, in Baniſhment,
With Sir *John Stanly*, in the Ile of Man.

*Elian.* Welcome is Baniſhment, welcome were my
Death.

*Gloſt.* *Elianus*, the Law thou ſeeft hath judged thee,
I cannot juſtifie whom the Law condemnés.

Mines eyes are full of teares, my heart of grief.

Ah *Humfrey*, this diſhonour in thine age,
Will bring thy head with ſorrow to the ground.

I beſeech your Majefty give me leave to goe;

Sorrow would ſolace, and mine Age would ceaſe.

*King.* Stay *Humfrey*, Duke of *Gloſter*,
E're thou go, give up thy Staff,

*Henry* will to himselfe *Protector* be,

And God ſhall be my hope, my ſtay, my guide,

And lanthorn to my ſeet:

And go in peace, *Humfrey*, no leſs belov'd,
Then when thou wert *Protector* to thy King.

*Queen.* I fee no reaſon, why a King of yeares
Should be to be proteſed like a Child;

God and King *Henry* govern *England's* Realm:

Give up your Staff, Sir, and the King his Realm,

*Gloſt.* My Staff? Here, Noble *Henry*, is my Staff:
As willingly do I the fame reſign,

As e're thy Father *Henry* made it mine;

And even as willingly at thy ſeet I leave it,

As others would ambitiously receive it.

Farewell good King: when I am dead and gone,
May honourable Peace attend thy THRONE.

*Exit Gloſter.*

*Quee.* Why now is *Henry* King, and *Margaret* Queen,
And *Humfrey*, Duke of *Gloſter*, I carce himſelf,
That bears ſo ſhrewd a main: two Pulls at once;

His Lady baniſht, and a limb lopt off,

This ſtaff of Honour raugh, there let it ſtand,
Where beſt it fits to be, in *Henrie's* hand.

*Suff.* Thus droops this lofty Pine, and hangs his sprays,
Thus *Elianus'* Pride dyes in her younger dayes.

*York.* Lords, let him go. Pleaſe it your Majefty,
This is the day appointed for the Combat,
And ready are the Appellant and Defendant,
The Armourer and his Man, to enter the Lifts,
So pleaſe your Highneſts to behold the fight.

*Queen.* You, my good Lord: for purpoſely therefore
Left I the Court, to fee this Quarrel try'd.

*King.* A God's Name ſee the Lifts and all things fit,
Here let them end it, and God defend the right.

*York.* I never ſaw a fellow worſe beſtead,
Or more afraid to fight, then is the Appellant,
The ſervant of this Armourer, my Lords.

*Enter*

Enter at one Door the Armourer and his Neighbours,
drinking to him so much that he is drunk; and he en-
ters with a Drumme before him, and his Staff with a
Sand-bag fastened to it : and at the other Door his
Man, with a Drumme and Sand-bag, and Prentices
drinking to him.

1. **Neighbour.** Here Neighbour Horner, I drink to you in a Cup of Sack; and fear not Neighbour, you shall do well enough.

2. **Neighbour.** And here Neighbour, here's a Cup of
Charnecco.

3. **Neighbour.** And here's a Pot of good Double-
Beer Neighbour: drink, and fear not your Man.

Armourer. Let it come yfaith, and I'll pledge you all, and a figge for Peter.

1. **Pren.** Here Peter, I drink to thee, and be not a-
fraid.

2. **Pren.** Be merry Peter, and fear not thy Mafter;
Fight for the credit of the Prentices.

Peter. I thank you all: drink, and pray for me, I pray you, for I think I have taken my laft Draught in this World. Here Robin, and if I dye, I give thee my Aporn; and Will, thou haft my Hammer: and here Tom, take all the Money that I have. O Lord blefs me, I pray God, for I am never able to deal with my Mafter, he hath learnt so much to fence already.

Salis. Come, leave your drinking, and fall to blowes.
Sirra, what's thy Name?

Peter. Peter forfooth.

Salis. Peter ? what more ?

Peter. Thump.

Salis. Thump? Then see thou thump thy Mafter well.

Armourer. Mafters, I am come hither as it were upon
my Man's infigation, to prove him a Knave, and my self
an honest man: and touching the Duke of York, I will
take my death, I never meant him any ill, nor the King,
nor the Queen, and therefore Peter have at thee with a
down-right blow.

York. Difpatch, this Knaves tongue begins to double.
Sound Trumpets, Alarum to the Combatants.

They fight, and Peter strikes him down.

Armourer. Hold Peter, hold, I confess, I confess
Trefaon.

York. Take away his Weapon: Fellow thank God,
and the good Wine in thy Mafter's way.

Peter. O God, have I overcome mine Enemie in this
prefence? O Peter, thou haft prevail'd in right.

King. Go, take hence that Traytor from our fight,
For by his death we do perceive his guilt,
And God in Juitice hath reveal'd to us
The truth and innocence of this poor fellow,
Which he had thought to have murther'd wrongfully.

Come fellow, follow us for my Reward.

Exeunt.

Enter Duke Humfrey and his Men
in Mourning Cloaks.

Gloft. Thus sometimes hath the brightest day a Cloud
And after Summer, evermore fucceeds
Barren Winter, with his wrathfull nipping Cold;
So Cares and Joyes abound, as Seaſons fleet.
Sirs, what's a Clock ?

Serv. Ten, my Lord.

Gloft. Ten is the hour that was appointed me,
To watch the coming of my punifht Duchefs:
Unneath may the endure the Flinty Streets,
To tread them with her tender-feeling feet.
Sweet Nell, ill can thy Noble Mind a-brook
The abject People, gazing on thy face,
With envious Looks still laughing at thy ſhame,
That erſt did follow thy proud Chariot-Wheels,
When thou didſt ride in triumph through the streets,
But ſoft, I think the comes, and I'le prepare
My tear-flain'd eyes, to fee her Miferies.

Enter the Duchefs in a white Sheet, and a Taper
burning in her hand, with the Sheriff
and Officers.

Serv. So please your Grace, we'll take her from the
Sheriff.

Gloſter. No, ſurre not for your lives, let her paff
by.

Elian. Come you, my Lord, to fee my open ſhame ?
Now thou do'ſt Penance too. Look how they gaze,
See how the giddy multitude do point,
And nod their heads, and throw their eyes on thee.
Ah Gloſter, hide thee from their hatefull looks,
And in thy Cloſet put up, rue my ſhame,
And banne thine Enemies, both mine and thine.

Gloſt. Be patient, gentle Nell, forget this grief,

Elian. Ah Gloſter, teach me to forget my ſelf.

For whileſt I think I am thy married Wife,
And thou a Prince, Protector of this Land :
Methinks I ſhould not thus be led along,
Mail'd up in ſhame, with Papers on my back,
And follow'd with a Rabble, that rejoyce
To fee my tears, and hear my deep-fet groans.

The ruthleſs Flint doth cut my tender feet,
And when I ſtart, the envious people laugh,
And bid me aduſed how I tread.

Ah Humſrey, can I bear this ſhameful yoak ?
Trowe thou, that ere Ile look upon the World,
Or count them happy, that enjoyes the Sun ?

No: Dark ſhall be my Light, and Night my Day.
To think upon my Pomp, shall be my Hell.

Sometime I'le ſay, I am Duke Humſrey's Wife,
And he a Prince, and Ruler of the Land :
Yet fo he Ruſ'd, and fuch a Prince he was,

As he ſood by, whileſt I, his forlorn Duchefs,
Was made a wonder, and a pointing ſtock.
To every idle Raſcal follower.

But be thou mild, and bluſh not at my ſhame,
Nor ſtir at nothing, till the Axe of Death
Hang over thee, as ſure it shortly will.

For Suffolk, he that can do all in all
With her, that hateth thee, and hates us all,
And York, and impious Beauford, that falſe Pricſt,
Have all lym'd Butſes to betray thy Wings,
And flie thou how thou canſt, they'le tangle thee.

But fear not thou, until thy foot be ſnar'd,
Nor ever ſeek prevention of thy foes.

Gloſt. Ah Nell, forbear: thou aight all awry.
I muſt offend, before I be apprainted :
And had I twenty times ſo many foes,
And each of them had twenty times their power,
All theſe could not procure me any ſcathe,
So long as I am loyal, true, and crimeleſs.
Would'ſt have me reſcue thee from this Reproach ?

Qq 3

Why

Why yet thy sandal were not wip't away

But I in danger for the breach of Law.

Thy greatest help is quiet, gentle Nell.

I pray thee for thy heart to patience,

Thefe few dayes wonder will be quickly worn.

*Enter a Herald.*

Her. I summon your Grace to his Majesties Parliament
Holden at Bury, the first of this next Moneth,

*Gloster.* And my consent ne're ask'd herein before?

This is close dealing. Well, I will be there.

My Nell, I take my leave; and Master Sheriff,

Let not her Penance exceed the King's Committion.

*Sher.* And't please your Grace, heremy Committion
And Sir John Stanly is appointed now, (fayes:
To take her with him to the Isle of Man.

*Gloster.* Muft you, Sir John, protect my Lady here?

*Stanly.* So am I given in charge, may't please your
Grace.

*Gloster.* Entreat her not the worse, in that I pray

You use her well: the World may laugh again,

And I may live to do you kindness, if you do it her.

And so Sir John, farewell.

*Eliana.* What, gone my Lord, and bid me not fare-
well?

*Gloster.* Witneſs my teares, I cannot ſtay to ſpeak.

*Exit Gloster.*

*Eliana.* Art thou gone too? all comfort go with thee,
For none abides with me: my Joy, is Death :
Death, at whose Name I oft have been afear'd,
Because I with'd this World's eternity.

*Stanly.* I prethee goe, and take me hence.

I care not whither, for I beg no favour ;

Only convey me where thou art commanded.

*Stan.* Why, Madam, that is to the Isle of Man,

There to be us'd according to your State.

*Eliana.* That's bad enough, for I am but reproach :

And ſhall I then be us'd reproachfully?

*Stan.* Like to a Duchefs, and Duke Humſry's Lady,

According to that State you ſhall be us'd.

*Eliana.* ſheriff farewell, and better then I fare,
Although thou haſt been Conduct of my ſhame.

*Sher.* What is my Office, and Madam pardon me.

*Eliana.* I, I, farewell, thy Office is diſcharg'd :
Come Stanley, shall we goe?

*Stan.* Madam, your Penance done,

Throw off this Sheet,

And goe we to attire you for our Journey.

*Eliana.* My ſhame will not be shifted with my Sheet :

No, it will hang upon my richeſt Robes,

And ſhew it ſelf, attire me how I can.

Goe, lead the way, I long to fee my Prifon.

*Exenunt.*

*Enter King, Queen, Cardinal, Suffolk, York,*
*Buckingham, Salisbury, and Warwick,*
*to the Parliament.*

*King.* I muſe my Lord of Gloſter is not come:
'Tis not his want to be the hindmoſt man,
What e're occasion keeps him from us now.

*Queen.* Can you not fee? or will ye not obſerve
The Iſtrangenes of his alter'd Countenance?

With what a Majefty he beares himself,
How infolent of late he is become,

How proud, how peremptory, and unlike himself.
We know the time ſince he was milde and affable,

And if we did but glance a far-off Look,
Immediately he was upon his Knee,

That all the Court admir'd him for ſubmiſſion.

But meet him now, and be it in the Morn ;

When every one will give the time of day,

He knits his Brow, and ſhews an angry Eye,

And paſſeth by with ſtiff unbowed Knee,

Difdaſning duty that to us belongs.

Small Currees are not regarded when they grin,

But great men tremble when the Lyon roars,

And Humſrey is no little Man in England.

First note, that he is near you in deſcent,

And ſhould you fall, he is the next will mount.

Me ſeemeth then, it is no Policy,

Respecting what a rancorous mind he bears,

And his advantage following your deceaſe,

That he ſhould come about your Royal Perſon,

Or be admitted to your Highneſs council.

By flattery hath he won the Commons hearts :

And when he please to make Commotion,

'Tis to be fear'd they all will follow him.

Now, 'tis the Spring, and Weeds are ſhallow-rooted,

Suffer them now, and they'll o're-grow the Garden,

And choak the Herbs for want of husbandry,

The reverent care I bear unto my Lord,

Made me collect these dangers in the Duke.

If it be fond, call it a Woman's fear :

Which fear, if better Reaſons can ſupplant,

I will ſubſcribe, and lay I wrong'd the Duke.

My Lord of Suffolk, Buckingham, and York.

Reprove my allegation, if you can,

Or else conclude my words effectual.

*Suff.* Well hath your Highneſs ſeen into this Duke:

And had I firſt been put to ſpeak my mind,

I think I should have told your Graces Tale.

The Duchefs, by his ſubornation,

Upon my Life began her devililſh practiſes :

Or if he were not privy to thofe Faults,

Yet by reputing of his high deſcent,

As next the King, he was ſucceſſive Heir,

And ſuch high vaunts of his Nobility,

Did inſtigate the Bedlam brain-ſick Duchefs,

By wicked means to frame our Soveraign's fall,

Smooth runs the Water where the Brook is deep,

And in his ſimple ſhew he harbours Treason.

The Fox barks not, when he would ſteal the Lamb.

No, no, my Soveraign, Gloſter is a man

Unfounded yet, and full of deep deceit.

*Card.* Did he not, contrary to form of Law,

Devife ſtrange deaths, for ſmall offences done ?

*York.* And did he not, in his Proteſorliſh,

Levy great ſummes of Money through the Realm,

For ſouldiers pay in France, and never ſent it ?

By means whereof the Townes each day revolted.

*Buck.* Tut, theſe are petty ſaults to ſaults unknown,

Which time will bring to light in ſmooth Duke Humſrey.

*King.* My Lords at once: the care you have of us,

To mow down Thorns that would annoy our Foot,

Is worthy praife: but ſhall I ſpeak, my conscience,

Our Kinaſman Gloſter is as innocent,

From meaning Treafon to our Royal Perſon,

As is the ſucking Lamb, or harmleſs Dove :

The Duke is virtuous, mild, and too well given,

To dream on evil, or to work my downfall.

*Que.* Ah what's more dangerous, then this ſond affiance?
Seems he a Dove ? his feathers are but borrow'd
For he's diſpoſed as the hatefull Raven.

Is he a Lamb ? his Skin is ſurely lent him,

For

For he's enclin'd as is the ravenous Wolves,
Who ne'er feal'd a shape, that means deceit?
Take heed, my Lord, the welfare of us all,
Hangs on the cutting short that fraudfull man.

### Enter Somerset.

Som. All health unto my gracious Sovereign.
King. Welcome Lord Somerset: What Newes from France?

Som. That all your Intereft in those Territories,
Is utterly bereft you : all is loft.

King. Cold Newes, Lord Somerset: but God's will be done.

Tork. Cold Newes for me: for I had hope of France,
As firmly as I hope for fertile England.
Thus are my Blofions blafed in the Bud,
And Caterpillars eat my Leaves away:
But I will remedy this geare e're long,
Or fell my Title for a glorious Grave.

### Enter Gloeſter.

Gloeſt. All happineſts unto my Lord the King:
Pardon, my Liege, that I have ſay'd ſo long.

Suff. Nay Gloſter, know that thou art come too ſoon,
Unleſs thou were more loyal then thou art :

I do arreft thee of high Treafon here.

Gloſt. Well Suffolk, yet thou ſhalt not fee me, bluſh,
Nor change my Countenance for this Arreſt:
A heart unpfotted, is not easily daunted.

The pureſt Spring is not ſo free from mud,
As I am clear from Treafon to my Sovereign.

Who can accuſe me ? wherein am I guilty ?
Tork. 'Tis thought, my Lord,
That you took Briſes of France,
And being Proteſtor, ſay'd the Souldiers pay,
By means whereof, his Highneſts hath loſt France.

Gloſt. Is it but thought ſo ?
What are they that think it ?
I never ſrob'd the Souldiers of their pay,
Nor ever had one penny Briſe from France,
So help me God, as I have watct the Night,
I, Night by Night, in ſtudying good for England,

That Doit that e're I wreſted from the King,
Or any Groat I hoorded to my ſufe,
Be brought againſt me at my Trial day.

No: many a Pound of mine own proper ſtore,
Because I would not tax the needy Commons,
Have I diſpurſed to the Garrifons,

And never ask'd for reſtitution.
Card. It ſerves you well, my Lord, to ſay so much.

Gloſt. I lay no more then truth, ſo help me God.

Tork. In your Proteſtorship, you did devife
Strange Tortures for Offenders, never heard of,
That England was defam'd by Tyranny.

Gloſt. Why 'tis well known, that whiles I was Pro-
Pitie was all the fault that was in me : (tector,

For I ſhould melt at an Offendor's teares,
And lowly words were Ransome for their fault :
Unleſs it were a bloudy Murtherer,
Or foul felonious Thieſe, that fleec'd poor paffengers,
I never gave them condign punishment.
Murther indeed, that bloudy ſin, I tortur'd
Above the Felon, or what Treſpals eſſe.

Suff. My Lords, these faults are eafe, quickly anſwer'd:
But mightier Crimes are lay'd unto your charge,
Whereof you cannot eafily purge your ſelf.

I do arreſt you in his Highneſs Name,
And here commit you to my Lord Cardinal
To keep, until your further time of Tryal.

King. My Lord of Gloeſter, 'tis my ſpecial hope ;
That you will clear your ſelf from all ſuſpence,
My Conſcience tells me you are innocent.

Gloſt. Ah gracious Lord, theſe dayes are dangerous :
Virtue is choak't with foul Ambition,
And Charity chas'd hence by Rancour's hand ;
Foul Subornation is predominant,
And Equitie exil'd your Highneſs Land.

I know, their Complot is to have my Life :
And if my death might make this Iland happy,
And prove the Period of their Tyranny,
I would expend it with all willingneſs.

But mine is made the Prologue to their Play :
For thouſands more, that yet ſuſpect no peril,
Will not conclude their plotted Tragedy.

Beauford's red ſparkling eyes blab his heart's malice,
And Suffolk's cloudy Brow his ſtormy hate ;

Sharp Buckingham unburthens with his tongue,
The envious Load that lyes upon his heart :

And dogged Tork, that reaches at the Moon,
Whofe over-weening Arme I have pluckt backe,
By falſe accuſe doth level at my life.

And you, my Soveraign Lady, with the reſt,
Caufeleſs have lay'd diſgraces on my head,
And with your beſt endeavour have ſtirr'd up

My lieſeſt Liege to be mine Enemy :

I, all of you have lay'd your heads together,
My ſelf had notice of your Conventicles,

And all to make away my guiltieſs life.
I ſhall not want falſe Witneſs, to condemn me;

Nor ſtore of Treſaons, to augment my guilt :

The ancient Proverb will be well effected,
A Staff is quickly found to beat a Dog.

Card. My Liege, his railing is intollerable.
If thate that care to keep your Royal Perſon

From Treafon's ſecret Knife ; and Traytor's Rage,
Be thus upbraided, chid, and rated at,

And the Offender granted ſcope of ſpeech,

'Twill make them cool in zeal unto your Grace.

Suff. Hath he not twit our Soveraign Lady here
With ignominious words, though Clarky couch ?

As if he had ſuborned ſome to ſwear

Falſe allegations, to o'rethrow his ſtate.

Queen. But I can give the loſer leave to chide.

Gloſt. Far truer ſpoke then meant : I, loſe indeed,
Befrewed the winners, for they play'd me falſe,

And well ſuch loſers may have leave to ſpeak.

Buck. He'll wreft the fence, and hold us here all day.
Lord Cardinal, he is your Prifoner.

Card. Sirs, takes away the Duke, and guard him ſurce
Gloſt. Ah, thus King Henry throws away his Crutch

Before his Legges be firm to bear his body,
Thus is the Shepheard beaten from thy ſide,

And Wolves are gnarling, who ſhall gnaw thee firſt.
Aha that my fear were falſe, ah that it were ;

For good King Henry, thy decay I fear. Exit Gloeſter.

King. My Lords, what to your wifdomes ſeemeth beſt,
Doe, or undoe, as if our ſelf were here.

Queen. What, will your Highneſs leave the Parlia-
ment?

King. I Margaret : my heart is drown'd with grief,
Whole floud begins to flow within mine eyes ;

My body round engirt with misery :

For

["The second Part of King Henry the Sixth.", "For what's more miserable than Discontent ?", "Ah Uncle *Humfrey*, in thy sad face I fee", "The Map of Honour, Truth, and Loyalty:", "And yet, good *Humfrey*, is the hour to come,\nThat e're I prov'd thee falfe, or fear'd thy faith.", "What lowring Star now envies thy eftate ?", "That thele great Lords, and Margaret our Queen,", "Do seek subversion of thy harmlefs Life.", "Thou never didst them wrong, nor no man wrong :", "And as the Butcher takes away the Calf,", "And binds the Wrench, and beats it when it strays,", "Bearing it to the bloudy Slaughter-houfe ;", "Even so remorfelefs have they borne him hence :", "And as the Damme runs lowing up and down,", "Looking the way her-harmlefs young one went,", "And can do nought but wait her Darlings lofs ;", "Even fo my self bewails good *Gloster's* cafe", "With sad unhelpfull teares, and with dimm'd eyes :", "Look after him, and cannot do him good :", "So mighty are his vowed Enemies.", "His fortunes I will weep, and twixt each groan,", "Say, who's a Traytor ? *Gloster* he is none.", "Exit.", "*Queen, Free Lords :*", "Cold Snow melts with the Sun's hot Beames :", "*Henry, my Lord, is cold in great Affairs,*", "Too full of foolish pitie : and *Gloster's* shew", "Beguiles him, as the mournfull Crocodile", "With forrow fnares relenting paflengers ;", "Or as the Snake, roll'd in a flowring Bank,", "With shining checker'd flough doth fling a Child,", "That for the beauty thinks it excellent :", "Believe me Lords, were none more wife then I,", "And yet herein I judge my own Wit good ;", "This *Gloster* should be quickly rid the World,", "To rid us from the fear we have of him,", "*Card. That he should dye, is worthy policy,*", "But yet we want a Colour for his death :", "'Tis meet he be condemn'd by course of Law.", "*Suff. But in my mind, that were no policy :*", "The King will la bour flitt to fave his Life,", "The Commons haply life, to fave his Life ;", "And yet we have but trivial argument,", "More then miſtruſt, that ſhews him worthy death.", "*Yark. So that by this, you would not have him dye.*", "*Suff. Ah *Yark*, no man alive, ſo fain as I.*", "*Yark. 'Tis *Yark* that hath more reaſon for his death.*", "But my Lord Cardinal, and you my Lord of *Suffolk*,", "Say as you think, and ſpeak it from your Soules :", "Wer't not all one, an empty Eagle were fet,", "To guard the Chick from a hungry Kite,", "As place Duke *Humfrey* for the King's Protector ?", "*Queen. So the poor Chicken ſhould be ſure of death.*", "*Suff. Madam ?'tis true : and wer't not madnes then,*", "To make the Fox ſurveyor of the Fold ?", "Who being accus'd a crafey Murtherer,", "His guilt ſhould be but idly poſed over,", "Because his purpofe is not executed.", "No : let him dye, in that he is a Fox,", "By nature prov'd an Enemy to the Flock,", "Before his Chaps be ſtain'd with Crimfont bloud,", "As *Humfrey* prov'd by Reaſons to my Liege.", "And do not ſtand on Quillets how to ſlay him :", "Be it by Ginnes, by Snares, by Subtilty,", "Sleeping, or Waking, 'tis no matter how,", "So he be dead ; for that is good deceit.", "Which mates him flitt, that firſt intends deceit.", "*Queen. Thrice noble *Suffolk's*, is refolutely ſpoke.*", "*Suff. Not refolutes, except ſo much were done,*", "For things are often ſpoke, and feldome meant,", "But that my heart accordeth with my tongue,", "Seeing the deed is meritorious,", "And to preferve my Sovereign from his Foe,", "Say but the word, and I will be his Prief.", "*Card. But I would have him dead, my Lord of *Suffolk*,*", "E're you can take due Orders for a Prief :", "Say you confent, and cenſure well the deed,", "And I'll provide his Executioner,", "I tender ſo the safety of my Liege.", "*Suff. Here is my hand, the deed is worthy doing.*", "*Queen. And ſo ſay I.*", "*Yark. And I: and now we three have ſpoke it,*", "It skills not greatly who impugnes our doom.", "*Enter a Poſt.*", "*Poſt. Great Lords, from Ireland am I come amain,*", "To ſignify, that Rebels there are up,", "And put the Englishmen unto the Sword ;", "Send Succours (Lords) and ſtop the Rage betime,", "Before the Wound do grow incurable ;", "For being green, there is great hope of help.", "*Card. A Breach that craves a quick expedient ſtop.*", "What confel what give you in this weighty cauſe :", "*Yark. That *Somerſet* be ſent a Regent thither :*", "'Tis meet the luckie Ruler be imploy'd,", "Witneſs the fortune he hath had in France.", "*Sons. If *Yark*, with all his far-fet policy,*", "Had been the Regent there, in ſead of me,", "He never would have ſtay'd in France ſo long.", "*Yark. No, not to lobe it all, as thou haſt done.*", "I rather would have loft my life betimes,", "Then bring a burthen of dis-honour home,", "By ſtaying there ſo long, 'till all were loft.", "Shew me one skar, character'd on thy skin.", "Men's ſleth preferv'd ſo whole, do ſeldome win.", "*Queen. Nay then, this ſpark will prove a raging fire,*", "If Wind and Fuel be brought, to feed it with :", "No more, good *Yark*; I ſwee *Somerſet* be ſill.", "Thy fortune, *Yark*, had'ft thou been Regent there,", "Might haply have prov'd far worse then his.", "*Yark. What, worse then naught ? nay, then a ſhame take all.*", "*Somerſet. And in the number, thee, that wiſheſt ſhame.*", "*Card. My Lord of *Yark*, try what your fortune is,*", "Th'uncivil Kernes of *Ireland* are in Armes,", "And temper Clay with bloud of Englishmen.", "To *Ireland* will you lead a Band of men,", "Collected choicely, from each County ſome,", "And try your hap againſt the Irifhmen ?", "*Yark. I will, my Lord; ſo pleafe his Majefty.*", "*Suff. Why, our Authority is his confent,*", "And what we do eſtablish, he confirms ;", "Then, Noble *Yark*, take thou this

469

Yorke, My Lord of Suffolk, within fourteen dayes
At Briftow I expect my Souldiers,

For there I'le chip them all for Ireland.

Suff. I'le see it truly done, my Lord of York, Exeunt.
Manet York.

Yorke. Now York, or never, feel thy fearfull thoughts,
And change middoubt to resolution :
Be that thou hop' it to be, or what thou art :
Reſign to death, it is not worth th' enjoying of:
Let pale-fac't fear keep with the mean-born man,
And find no harbour in a Royal heart.

After then Spring-time ſhowres, comes thought on
And not a thought, but thinks on Dignity. ( thought,
My brain, more buſe then the labouring Spider,
Weaves tedious Snares to trap mine Enemies.

Well Nobles, well : 'tis politickly done,

To fend me packing with an Hoaſt of men :

I fear me, you but warm the ſtarved Snake,

Who cheriſh't in your-breaths, will ſting your hearts,
Twas Men I lack't, and you will give them me ;

I take it kindly : yet be well affur'd,

You put ſharp Weapons in a mad-man's hands.

Whiles I in Ireland nouriſh a mighty Band,

I will fir up in England some black Storm,

Shall blow ten thouſand Soules to heaven or hell :

And this fell Tempeſt ſhall not ceafe to rage,

Until the Golden Circuit on my head,

Like to the glorious Sun's tranſparent Beams,

Do caln the fury of this mad-bred Flawe.

And for a minifter of my intent,

I have ſeduc'd a head-ſtrong Kentiſhman,

John Cade of Alſford.

To make Commotion, as full well he can,

Under the Title of John Mortimer.

In Ireland have I seen this ſtubborn Cade

Oppoſe himſelf again a troop of Kernes,

And ſought ſo long, till that his thighes with Darts

Were almost like a ſharp-quill'd Porpentine :

And in the end being ſecluded, I have ſeen

Him caper upright, like a wild Morisco,

Shaking the bloody Darts, as he his Bells.

Full often, like a flag-hair'd crafty Kern,

Hath he converſed with the Enemy,

And undifcover'd, come to me again,

And given me notice of their Villanies.

This devil here ſhall be my ſubſtitute,

For that John Mortimer, which now is dead,

In face, in gate, in ſpeech he doth ſemble,

By this, I ſhall perſence the Commons mind,

How they affect the Houſe and Claim of York.

Say he be taken, rack't, and ſoturted ;

I know, no pain they can infliſt upon him,

Will make him ſay, I mov'd him to thate Armes.

Say that he thrive, as 'tis great like he will,

Why then from Ireland come I with my ſtrength,

And reap the Harvest which that Raſcal ſow'd.

For Humſrey being dead, as he ſhall be,

And Henry put a-part: the next for me. Exit.

Enter two or three running over the Stage, from the
Murder of Duke Humſrey.

1. Run to my Lord of Suffolk : let him know
We have dispatcht the Duke, as he commanded.

2. Oh, that it were to doe ; what have we done ?

Did it ever hear a man ſo penitent ?

Enter Suffolk.

1. Here comes my Lord.

Suff. Now Sirs, have you dispatcht this thing?

I. I, my good Lord, he's dead.

Suff. Why that's well ſaid. Go, get you to my house,
I will reward you for this venturous deed :

The King and all the Peers are here at hand.

Have you laid fair the Bed ? are all things well,
According as I gave directions ?

I. 'Tis, my good Lord.

Suff. Away, be gone.

Exeunt.

Enter the King, the Queen, Cardinal, Suffolk,
Somerset, with Attendants.

King. Go call our Uncle to our prefence ſtraight :
Say, we intend to try his Grace to day,
If he be guilty, as 'tis publifhed.

Suff. I'le call him prefently, my Noble Lord. Exit.

King. Lords take your places; and I pray you all
Proceed no ſtraiter 'gainſt our Uncle Gloſter,
Then from true evidence, of good efteem,
He be approv'd in practice culpable.

Queen. God forbid any malice ſhould prevail,
That faultleſs may condemn a Noble man :
Pray God he may acquit him of ſubſition.

King. I thank thee Nell, these words content me
much.

Enter Suffolk.

How now? why look'ſt thou pale? why trembleſt thou?

Where is our Uncle ? what's the matter, Suffolk?

Suff. Dead in his Bed, my Lord: Gloſter is dead.

Queen. Marry God forſend.

Card. God's ſecret Judgement: I did dream to night,
The Duke was dumb, and could not ſpeak a word.

King ſounds.

Queen. How fares my Lord ? Help Lords, the King is dead.

Som. Rear up his Body, wring him by the Nofe.

Queen. Run, go, help, help: Oh Henry ope thine eyes.

Suff. He doth revive again, Madam be patient.

King. Oh heavenly God !

Queen. How fares my gracious Lord ?

Suff. Comfort my Soveraign, gracious Henry com-
fort.

King. What, doth my Lord of Suffolk comfort me ?

Came he right now to ſing a Raven's Note,
Whoseſmal tune bereſt my Vital powres :

And thinks he, that the chirping of a Wren,
By crying comfort from a hollow breaſt,

Can chafe away the first ſceived found ?

Hide not thy poſon with ſuch ſug ſugred words,

Lay not thy hands on me: forbear I ſay,

Their touch affrights me as a Serpent's ſting.

Thou baleful Meſlenger, out of my fight :

Upon thy eye-balls, murderous Tyranny

Sits in grim Majeſty, to fright the World,

Look not upon me, for thine eyes are wounding ;

Yet do not go away; come Batiſk.

And kill the innocent gazer with thy fight :
For in the ſhade of death, I ſhall find joy ;

In life, but double death, now Gloſter's dead.

Queen. Why do you rate my Lord of Suffolk thus ?

Although the Duke was enemy to him,

Yet he moſt Chriſtian-like Jaments his death ;

And for my ſelf, Foe as he was to me,

Might liquid teares, or heart-offending groans,

Or cloud-confusing ſighes recall his life ;

I would

I would be blind with weeping, sick with groans,
Look pale as Prim-rose with cloud-drinking fighes,
And all to have the Noble Duke alive.
What know I how the world may deem of me?
For it is known we were but hollow Friends:
It may be judg'd I made the Duke away.
So shall my name with Slander's tongue be wounded,
And Princes Courts be fill'd with my reproach:
This get I by his death: aye me, unhappy,
To be a Queen, and Crown'd with infamy.

King. Ah woe is me for Gloster, wretched man,
Queen. Be woe for me, more wretched then he is.
What, Do't thou turn away, and hide thy face?
I am no loathsome Leper, look on me.
What ? art thou like the Adder waxen deaf?
Be poysonous too, and kill thy forlorn Queen,
Is all thy comfort that in Gloster's Tombe?
Why then Dame Elianor was ne're thy joy. Margaret
Erect his Statue, and worlship it,
And make my image but an Ale-houfe lign.
Was I for this nigh wrack'd upon the fea,
And twice by awkward wind from England's bank
Drove back again unto my Native Clime.
What boaded this ? but well fore-warning wind
Did seem to fay, feek not a scorpion's Neft,
Nor fet no footing on this unkind fhoar,
What did I then ? but curft the gentle gufts,
And he that loos'd them from their Brazen Caves,
And bid them blow towards England's blessed fhoar,
Or turn our Stern upon a dreadfull Rock:
Yet Aelus would not be a murtherer,
But left that hatefull office unto thee.
The pretty vaulting fea refus'd to drown me,
Knowing that thou would't have me drown'd on fhoar
With teares as salt as fea, through thy unkindnes,
The fplitting Rocks cowr'd in the finking fands,
And would not daft me with their ragged fides,
Because thy flinty heart more hard then they,
Might in thy Pallace perith Elianor: Margaret
As far as I could ken thy Chalky Cliffs,
When from thy fhoar, the Tempeft beat us back,
I food upon the Hatches in the storm:
And when the dusky sky, began to rob
My earneft-gaping-fight of the Land's view,
I took a coftly Jewel from my neck,
A Heart it was bound in with Diamonds,
And threw it towards thy Land : the Sea receiv'd it,
And fo I wifh'd thy body might my Heart:
And even with this, I loft fair England's view,
And bid mine eyes be packing with my heart,
And call'd them blind and dusky Spectacles,
For loofing ken of Albion's wifhed Coaft.
How often have I tempted Suffolk's tongue
(The agent of thy foul inconftancy)
To fit and watch me, as Aſcanius did,
When he to madding Dido would unfold
His Father's Aſts, commenc'd in burning Troy,
Am I not witcht like her ? or thou not falfe like him?
Aye me, I can no more : Dye Elianor, Margaret
For Henry weeps, that thou do't live to long.

Noife within. Enter Warwick, and many Commons.

Warw. It is reported, mighty Soveraign,
That good Duke Humfrey Traiteroufly is murthered

By Suffolk, and the Cardinal Beauford's means:
The Commons like an angry hive of Bees
That want their Leader, icatter up and down,
And Care not who they fting in his revenge.
My felf have calm'd their ſpleenfull mutiny,
Until they hear the order of his death.

King. That he is dead good Warwick, 'tis too true,
But how he dyed, God knows, not Henry:
Enter his Chamber, view his breathleſs Corps,
And comment then upon his ſudden death.

Warw. That shall I do my Liege: flay Salisbury
With the rude multitude, till I return.

King. O thou that judgeſt all things, flay my thoughts:
My thoughts, that labour to perfwade my foul,
Some violent hands were laid on Humfrey's life:
If my ſuppect be falſe, forgive me God,
For judgement only doth belong to thee:
Fain would I goe to chafe his paly lips,
With twenty thouand kiffes, and to drain
Upon his face an Ocean of ſalt teares,
To tell my love unto his dumb deaf trunk,
And with my fingers feel his hand, unfeeling:
But all in vain are theſe mean Obſequies,

Bed put forth.
And to ſurvey his dead and earthly Image :
What were it but to make my forrow greater ?

Warw. Come hither gracious Soveraign, view this body.

King. That is to fee how deep my grave is made,
For with his foul ſled all my worldly folace ;
For feeing him, I fee my life in death.

Warw. As ſurely as my foul intends to live
With that dread King that took our ſtate upon him,
To free us from his Father's wrathful curſe,
I do believe that violent hands were laid
Upon the life of this thrice-famed Duke.

Suff. A dreadfull Oath, ſworn with a ſolemn conge:
What inſtance gives Lord Warwick for his vow?

Warw. See how the bloud is fetied in his face.
Oft have I feen a timely-parted Ghoſt,
Of aſhy ſembiance, meager, pale, and bloudleſs,
Being all defcended to the labouring heart,
Who in the Conflit that it holds with death,
Attraſts the fame for aidance 'gainſt the enemy,
Which with the heart there cools, and ne're returneth,
To bluſh and beautitue the Cheek again.

But fee, his face is black, and full of bloud :
His eye-balls further out, than when he lived,
Staring full gaffly, like a ftrandling Ghoſt:
His hair up-rear'd, his noſtrils ſtretcft with wrugling:
His hands abroad diſplay'd, as one that graſpt
And tugg'd for Life, and was by ſtrength ſubdude.
Look on the Sheets, his hair ( you fee ) is Ricking,
His well-proportion'd Beard, made ruffe and rugg'd,
Like to the Summer's Corn by Tempeſt lodged:
It cannot be but he was murdred here,

The leaſt of all theſe ſignes were probable.
Suff. Why Warwick, who ſhould do the Duke to death?
My ſelf and Beauford had him in protection,
And we, I hope Sir, are no murtherers. (death)

Warw. But both of you have vowed Duke Humfrey's
And you (forfooth) had the good Duke to keep :
'Tis like you would not feaſt him like a friend,
And 'tis well ſeen, he found an enemy.

Queen. Then you belike ſuppect theſe Noble men,
As guilty of Duke Humfrey's timeleſs death.

Warw.

471

Warw. Who finds the Heifer dead, and bleeding fresh,
And fees fast-by, a Butcher with an Axe,
But will fusfect, ?twas he that made the floughter ?
Who finds the Partridge in the Puttocks Neft,
But may imagine, how the Bird was dead,
Although the Kite foar with un-blouded Beak ?
Even so fuspicious is this Tragedy.

Qu. Are you the Butchers, Suffolk? where's your Knife?
Is Beauford term'd a Kite ? where are his Tallons ?

Suff. I wear no Knife, to flautter sleeping men,

But here's a 'vengefull Sword, rufted with eafe,

That shall be scoured in his rancorous heart.

That flanders me with Murther's Crimson Badge.

Say, if thou dar'ft, proud Lord of Warwickshire,

That I am faulty in Duke Humfrey's death.

Warw. What dares not Warwick, if false Suffolk dare
him ?

Queen. He dares not calm his contumelious spirit,

Nor ceale to be an arrogant Controller,

Though Suffolk dare him twenty thousand times.

Warw. Madam be still: with reverence may I say,
For every word you speak in his behalf,

Islander to your Royal Dignity.

Suff. Blunt-witted Lord, ignoble in demeanor,

If ever Lady wrong'd her Lord so much,

Thy Mother took into her blamefull Bed,

Some ourn un-tutor'd Churl; and Noble Stock

Was graft with Crab-tree flip, whose Fruit thou art,

And never of the Nevils Noble Race.

Warw. But that the guilt of Murther bucklers thee,
And I should rob the Deaths-man of his Fee,

Quitting thee thereby of ten thousand flames,

And that my Soveraigns prefence makes me mild,

I would, falfe murd'rous Coward, on thy Knee

Make thee beg pardon for thy paffed speech,

And fay, it was thy Mother that thou meant'st.

That thou thy self waft born in Baftardy ;

And after all this fearfull Homage done,

Give thee thy hire, and thy Soul to hell,

Pernicious bloud-fucker of sleeping men.

Suff. Thou shall be waking, while I fhed thy blood.
If from this prefence thou dar'ft go with me.

Warw. Away even now, or I will drag thee hence,

Unworthy though thou art, I'll scope with thee,

And do fome service to Duke Humfrey's Ghoft.

Exeunt.

King. What stronger Breast-plate then a heart untainted?
Thrice is he arm'd, that hath his Quarrel juft ;

And he but naked, though lockt up in Steel,

Who confcience with injustice is corrupted.

A noife within.

Queen. What noife is this?

Enter Suffolk and Warwick, with their
Weapons drawn.

King. Why how now Lords ?

Your wrathfull Weapons drawn,

Here in our prefence ? Dare you be so bold ?

Why what Tumultuous clamour have we here ?

Suff. The trayt'rous Warwick, with the men of Bury,
Set all upon me, mighty Soveraign.

Enter Salisbury.

Salis. Sirs stand a-part, the King shall know your
mind.

Dread Lord, the Commons fend you word by me,
Unlefs Lord Suffolk, straight be done to death,

Or banifhed fair England's Territories,

They will by violence tear him from your Pallace,
And torture him with grieuous lingring death.

They fay, by him the good Duke Humfrey dy'd :

They fay, in him they fear your Highneſs death ;

And mere infinct of Love and Loyalty,

Free from a flubborn oppofite intent,

As being thought to contradict your likings,

Makes them thus forward in his Banifhment.

They fay, in care of your moſt Royal Perſon,

That if your Highneſs should intend to ſleep,

And charge, that no man should diſturb your Reſt,

In pain of your diſlike, or pain of death;

Yet notwithstanding ſuch a ſtrait Edict,

Were there a Serpent ſeen, with forked Tongues,

That flyly glided towards your Majeſty,

It were but neceſtary you were wak't :

Left being ſuffer'd in that harmleſs Slumber,

The mortal Worm might make the ſleep eternal,

And therefore do they cry, though you forbid,

That they will guard you, where you will, or no,

From ſuch fell Serpents as falſe Suffolk is ;

With whoſe invenomed and fatal ſting,

Your loving Uncle, twenty times his worth,

They fay is ſhamefully bereft of life.

Commons within. An Anſwer from the King, my Lord
of Salisbury.

Suff. 'Tis like the Commons, rude unpolifhed hinds,

Could ſend ſuch Meffage to their Soveraign :

But you, my Lord, were glad to be imploy'd,

To ſhew how queint an Orator you are.

But all the Honour Salisbury hath wonne,

Is, that he was the Lord Embaffador,

Sent from a fort of Tinkers to the King.

Within. An anſwer from the King, or we will all
break in.

King. Go Salisbury, and tell them all from me,
I thank them for their tender loving care ;

And had I not been cited to by them,

Yet did I purpose as they do intreat :

For ſure, my thoughts do hourly prophefie,

Mifchance unto my State by Suffolk's means.

And therefore by his Majeſty I ſwear,

Whoſe far-un-worthy Deputy I am,

He ſhall not breed inſfection in this air,

But three days longer, on the pain of death.

Quee. Oh Henry, let me plead for gentle Suffolk.

King. Ungentle Queen, to call him gentle Suffolk.

No more I fay: if thou do't plead for him,

Thou wilt but add increafe unto my Wrath.

Had I but faid, I would have kept my word ;

But when I ſwear, it is irrevocable :

If after three days ſpace thou here be't found,

On any ground that I am Ruler of,

The World ſhall not be Ranome for thy Life.

Come Warwick, come good Warwick, go with me,

I have great matters to impart to thee. Exit.

Queen. Mifchance and Sorrow go along with you,
Hearts Discontent, and fourw Affliction,

Be play-fellowsto keep you company :

There's two of you, the Devil made a third,

And three-fold Vengeance tend upon your ſteps,

Suff. Ceafe, gentle Queen, these Excerations,

And let thy Suffolk take his heavy leave.

Queen

472

*Queen.* Ile Coward woman, and loft-hearted wretch,
Haft thou not spirit to curfe thine Enemy ?

*Suff.* A plague upon them : wherefore should I curfe them ?
Would curfes kill, as doth the Mandrakes groan,
I would invent as bitter searching terms,
As curft, as harsh, and horrible to hear,
Deliver'd strongly through my fixed teeth,
With full as many lignes of deadly hate,
As lean-fac'd envy in her loathsome cave.
My tongue should flumble in mine earneft words,
Mine eyes should sparkle like the beaten Flint,
Mine hair be fixt an end, as one diftraict :
I, every joynt should seem to curfe and ban,
And even now my burthen'd heart would break
Should I not curfe them. Poison be their drink,
Gall, worfe, then Gall, the daintieft that they tafte :
Their fwecfeft shade, a grove of Cypreſs Trees :
Their chieſtſt Proſpect, murding Bafilisks :
Their ſofteſt Touch, as ſmart as Lizards ſtings :
Their Muſick, frightfull as the Serpents hifs,
And boading Screech-Owls, make the Confort full.
All the foul terrors in dark-feated hell------

*Queen.* Enough fweet Suffolk, thou torment't ſt thy ſelf,
And theſe dread curſes like the Sun, gainſt graſs,
Or like an over-charged Gun, recoil,
And turn the force of them upon thy ſelf.

*Suff.* You bade me ban, and will you bid me leave ?
Now by the ground that I am banifh'd from,
Well could I curſe away a Winters night,
Though ſtanding naked on a Mountain top,
Where biting cold would never let graſs grow,
And think it but a minute ſpent in ſport.

*Queen.* Oh, let me intreat thee ceaſe, give me thy hand,
That I may dew it with my mournfull teares :
Nor let the rain of heaven wet this place,
To waſh away my wofull Monuments.
Oh, could this kils be printed in thy hand,
That thou might't ſtink upon theſe by the Seal,
Through whom a thouſand fighes are breath'd for thee.
So get thee gone, that I may know my grief,
'Tis but furmiz'd, whiles thou art ſtanding by,
As one that ſurfets, thinking on a want:
I will repeal thee, or be well aflur'd,
Adventure to be banifhed my ſelf :
And banifhed I am, if but from thee.
Goe, (speak not to me; even now be gone,
Oh goe not yet. Even thus, two friends condemn'd
Embrace, and kifs, and take ten thouſand leaves,
Loather a hundred times to part then dye :
Yet now farewell, and farewell life with thee.

*Suff.* Thus is poor Suffolk ten times banifhed,
Once by the King, and three times thrice by thee.
'Tis not the Land I care for, wei'c thou hence,
A Wilderneſs is populous enough,
So Suffolk had thy heavenly company :
For where thou art, there is the World it ſelf,
With every ſeveral pleafure in the World :
And where thou art not, Defolation.
I can no more : 'Live thou to joy thy life :
My ſelf no joy in ought, but that thou liv'ft.

*Enter Vaux.*

*Queen.* Whither goes Vaux so faſt ? what newes I
prethee ?

*Vaux.* To ſignify unto his Majety,
That Cardinal *Beanford* is at the point of death:
For suddenly a grievous ſickneſs took him,
That makes him gafp, and ſtare, and catch the air,
Blapheming God, and curling men on earth.
Sometime he talks, as if Duke *Humfrey*'s Ghoſt
Were by his ſide: sometime, he calls the King,
And whifpers to his Pillow, as to him,
The ſecrets of his over-charged foul,
And I am ſent to tell his Majety,
That even now he cries aloud for him.

*Quee.* Go tell this heavy Meſſage to the King. *Exit.*
Aye me ! What is this World ? What newes are theſe ?
But wherefore grieve I at an houres poor loſs,
Omitting *Suffolk*'s exile, my foule's Treafure ?
Why only *Suffolk* mourn I not for thee ?
And with the Southern clouds, contend in teares ?
Theirs for the Earth's increafe; mine for my ſorrows,
Now get thee hence, the King thou know't is comming
If thou be found by me, thou art but dead.

*Suff.* If I depart from thee, I cannot live,
And in thy fight to dye, what were it eſſe,
But like a pleafant flumber in thy lap ?
Here could I breathe my foul into the air,
As milde and gentle as the Cradle-babe,
Dying with mother's dugge between it's lips,
Where from thy fight, I should be raging mad :
And cry outfor thee to cloſe up mine eyes :
To have thee with thy lippes to ſtop my mouth:
So thou'd ſt either turn my flying foul,
Or I should breath it ſo into thy body,
And then it lives in ſweet Elizium.
To dye by thee, were but to dye in jeſt,
From thee to dye, were torture more then death :
Oh let me ſlay, beſt what may beſtall.

*Queen.* Away : though parting be a ſeftful cortoſive,
It is applied to a deathfull wound.
To France fweet *Suffolk* : Let me hear from thee :
For wherefore thou art in this world's Globe,
I'le have an *Iris* that ſhall find thee out.

*Suff.* I goe.
*Queen.* And take my heart with thee.
*Suff.* A Jewel lockt into the woful ſt Cask,
That ever did contain a thing of worth,
Even as a ſplitted Bark, ſo ſunder we :
This way fall I to death.

*Queen.* This way for me.

*Exeunt.*

*Enter the King, Salisbury, and Warwick, to the Cardinal in bed.*

*King.* How fares my Lord ? *Speak Beanford* to thy Soveraign.

*Car.* If thou beaſt death, I'le give thee *Englands* Treasur,
Enough to purchase such another Island,
So thou wilt let me live, and feel no pain.

*King.* Ah, what a ſign it is of evil life,
Where death's approach is ſeen ſo terrible.

*War.* *Beanford*, it is thy Soveraign ſpeaks to thee,
*Bean*. Bring me unto my Trial when you will,
D'ie de he not in his bed ? Where should he dye?

Can I make men live where they will or no?
Oh torture me no more, I will confes.

Alive again ? Then ſhew me where he is:

I'le give a thouſand pound to look upon him,
He hath no eyes, the duſt hath blinded them.

Combe

Combe down his hair; look, look, it stands upright,
Like Lime-twigs set to catch my winged foul :
Give me some drink, and bid the Apothecary
Bring the strong poyfon that I bought of him.

King. O thou eternal moover of the heavens,
Look with a gentle eye upon this Wretch,
Oh beat away the bufie medling Friend,
That lays strong fieme unto this wretches foul,
And from his bofome purge this black defpair.

War. See how the pangs of death do make him grin,
Sal. Difturb him not, let him paffe peaceably.
King. Peace to his foul, if Gods good pleasure be,
Lord Card'nall, it thou think'st on heavens bliffe,
Hold up thy hand, make fignall of thy hope.

He dies and makes no figne: Oh God forgive him,
War. So bad a death, argnes a monſtrous life.
King. Forbear to judge, for we are finners all.

Cloſe up his eyes, and draw the Curtain close,
And let us all to Meditation.

Exeunt.

Alarum. Fight at Sea. Ordinance goes off.

Enter Lieutenant, Suffolk, and others.
Lieu. The gaudy babbling and remorsefull day,

Is crept into the bofome of the Sea :
And now loud howling Wolves arouze the Jades
That drag their Tragick melancholy night :

Who with their drowſe, flow, and flagging wings
Cleap dead-mens graves; and from their mifty Jaws,
Breath foul contagious darkneſs in the air :

Therefore bring forth the Souldiers of our prize,
For whil't our Pinnace Anchors in the Downs,
Here shall they make their ransome on the fand,
Or with their bloud flain this diſcoloured ſhore,
Maſter, this Prifoner freely give I thee.

And thou that art his Mate, make boot of this:
The other Walter Whitmore is thy ſhare.

1. Gent. What is my ransome Maſter, let me know,
Ma. A thoufand Crowns, or else lay down your head,

Mate. And for much ſhall you give, or off goes yours,
Lieu. What think you much to pay 2000. Crowns,

And bear the name and port of Gentlemen ?

Cut both the Villains throats, for die thou shall :

The lives of thofe which we have loft in fight,
Be counter-poys'd with such a petty ſum.

1. Gent. I'le give it, fir, and therefore ſpare my life,

2. Gent. And to will I, and write home for it ſtraight.
Whitm. I loft mine eye in laying the prize aboard,

And therefore to revenge it, ſhalt thou die,
And ſo should theſe, If I might have my will.

Lieu. Be not ſo rafh, take ransome, let him live.

Suf. Look on my George, I am a Gentleman,
Rate me at what thou wilt, thou ſhalt be paid.

Whit. And so am I: my name is Walter Whitmore.
How now? why ſtartſt thou? what doth death affright?

Suf. Thy name affrights me, in whose found is death:
A cunning man did calculate my Birth,

And told me that by Water I should die :

Yet let not this make thee be bloudy-minded,
Thy name is Gualtier, being rightly founded.

Whit. Gualtier or Walter, which it is I care not,
Never yet did bafe diſhonour blur our name,
But with our ſword we wip'd away the blot.
Therefore, when Merchant-like I fell revenge,
Broke be my ſword, my Armes torn and defac'd,
And I proclaim'd a Coward through the world,

Suf. Stay Whitmore, for thy Prifoner is a Prince,
The Duke of Suffolk, William de la Pole.

Whit. The Duke of Suffolk, muffled up in rags?

Suf. I, but theſe rags are no part of the Duke.

Lieu. But Jove was never flain as thou ſhalt be,
Obſcure and lowſe Swain, King Henries bloud.

Suf. The honorable bloud of Lancaſter
Muſt not be ſhed by ſuch a jaded Groom :

Haſt thou not kift thy hand, and held my flitrop ?

Bare-headed plodded by my foot-cloth Mule,
And thought thee happy when I ſhok my head.

How often haſt thou waited at my cup,

Fed from my Trencher, kneel'd down at the board,

When I have feaſted with Queen Margaret ?

Remember it, and let it make thee Creſt-fain,

I, and alay this thy abortive Pride :

How in our voiding Lobby haſt thou ſtood,

And duly waited for my coming forth?

This hand of thine hath writ in thy behalf,

And therefore ſhall it charme thy riotous tongue.

Whit. Speak Captain, ſhall I ſtab the forlorn Swain ?

Lieu. Firſt let my words ſtab him, as he hath me.

Suf. Bafe flave, thy words are blunt, and to art thou,

Lieu. Convey him hence, and on our long boats ſide,
Strike off his head. Suf. Thou dar't not for thy own,

Litu. Poole, Sir Poole? Lord?

I, kennell, puddle, fink, whose filth and dirt

Troubles the filver Spring, where England drinks :

Now will I dam up this thy yawning mouth,

For fwallowing up the Treasure of the Realm.

Thy lips that kiſt the Queen, ſhall fweep the ground :

And thou that ſmil'dt at good Duke Humfries death,

Againſt the ſenſeleſs winds ſhalt grin in vain,

Who in contempt ſhall hſis at thee again.

And wedded be thou to the Hags of hell,

For daring to affye a mighty Lord

Unto the daughter of a worthleſs King,

Having neither Subjeſt, Wealth, nor Diadem :

By devilſh policy art thou grown great,

And like ambitious Sylla over-gor'd,

With gobbets of thy Mother-bleeding heart.

By thee Anion and Main were ſold to France.

The ſalſe revolting Normans thorough thee,

Difdain to call us Lord, and Piccardie

Hath flain their Governors, ſuſpriz'd our Forts,

And ſent the ragged Souldiers wounded home :

The Princely Warwick, and the Nevils all,

Whofe dreadfull ſwords were never drawn in vain,

As hating thee, and rifing up in Armes.

And now the Houſe of Tork thrust from the Crown,

By ſhamefull murther of a guildeſs King,

And lofty proud incroaching tyranny,

Burns with revenging fire, whose hopefull colours

Advance our half-fac'd Sun, ſtriving to ſhine ;

Under the which is writ, Invitis nubibus.

The commons here in Kent are up in arms,

And to conclude, Reproach and Beggery,

Is crept into the Pallace of our King,

And all by thee: away convey him hence.

Suf. O that I were a God, to ſhoot forth Thunder

Upon theſe paltry, ſervile, abject Drudges :

Small things make bafe men proud. This Villain here,

Being Captain of a Pinnace, threatens more

Then Bargulus the ſtrong Illyrian Pirate.

Drones ſuck not Eagles bloud, but rob Bee-hives.

It is Impossible that I should die

R T

By

Jove sometimes went disquieted, and why not I?

474

By such a lowly Vassall as thy self.

Thy words move Rage, and not remorfe in me:

I go of Mesplage from the Queen to France:

I charge thee waft me safely croffe the Channell.

Lien. Water: W. Come Suffolk, I must waft thee to thy death.

Sauf. Gelidus timor occupat artus, it is thee I fear.

Wal. Thou fhalt have caufe to fear before I leave thee.

What, are ye daunted now? will you Stoop?

I. Gent. My gracious Lord intreat him; I speak him fair.

Sauf. Suffolkes Imperiall tongue is ſtern and rough:

Us'd to command, untaught to plead for favour.

Far be it, we should honour ſuch as theſe

With humble ſuit: no, rather let my head

Stoop to the block, then theſe knees bow to any,

Save to the God of heaven; and to my King:

And ſooner dance upon a bloody pole,

Then ſtand uncover'd to the Vulgar Groom.

True Nobility, is exempt from fear :

More can I bear, then you dare execute.

Lien. Hale him away, and let him talk no more :

Come Souldiers, I flew what cruelty ye can.

Sauf. That this my death may never be forgot.

Great men oft die by vilde Bezonians.

A Roman Sworder, and Bandetto ſlave

Murder'd ſweet Tully. Brutus Baſtard hand

Stab'd Julius Caſar. Savage Iſlanders

Pompey the Great, and Suffolk dies by Pyrats.

Exit Walter with Suffolk.

Lien. And as for theſe whole ſanſome we have fet,
It is our pleafure one of them depart :

Therefore come you with us, and let him go.

Exit Lieutenvnt, and the reſt.

Manet the firſt Gent. Enter Walter with the body.

Wal. There let his head, and liveleſſe body lie,

Untill the Queen his Miftris bury it. Exit Walter.

I. Gent. O barbarous and bloody ſpectacle,

His body will I bear unto the King:

If he revenge it not, yet will his Friends,

So will the Queen, that living held him dear. Exit.

Enter Bevis, and John Holland.

Bevis. Come and get thee a ſword, though made of a
Lath, they have been up theſe two dayes.

Hol. They have the more need to ſleep now then.

Bevis. I tell thee, Jack Cade the Cloathier, means to
dreſſe the Common-wealth and turn it, and fet a new
nap upon it.

Hol. So he had need, 'tis thred-bare. Well, I ſay,
it was never merry world in England, ſince Gentlemen
came up.

Bevis. O miferable Age: Veretue is not regarded in
Handy-crafts men.

Hol. The Nobility think ſcorn to go in Leather
Aprons.

Bevis. Nay more, the Kings Councell are no good
Workmen.

Hol. True: and yet it is ſaid, Labour in thy Voca-
tion: which is as much as to ſay, let the Magiftrates be la-
bouring men, and therefore should we be Magiftrates,

Bevis. Thou haſt hit it: for there's no better ſigne of
a brave mind, then a hard hand.

Hol. I fee them, I fee them: There's Best's Son, the
Tanner of Wingham.

Bevis. He ſhall have the skinns of our enemies, to

make Dogs Leather of.

Hol. And Dick the Butcher.

Bevis. Then is ſin ſtruck down like an Oxe, and ini-
quities throat cut like a Calf.

Hol. And Smith the Weaver.

Bevis. Argo, their thred of life is ſpun.

Hol. Come, come, let's fall in with them.

Drum. Enter Cade, Dick Butcher, Smith the Weaver,
and a Sawyer, with infinite numbers.

Cade. We John Cade, so term'd of our ſuppoſed Fa-
ther.

But. Or rather of ſtealing a Cade of Herrings.

Cade. For our enemies ſhall fail before us, infired
with the ſpirit of putting down Kings and Princes. Com-
mand ſilence.

But. Silence.

Cade. My Father was a Mortimer.

But. He was an boneſt man, and a good Bricklayer.

Cade. My mother a Plantagener.

But. I knew her well, the was a Midwife.

Cade. My wife defended of the Lascies.

But. She was indeed a Pedlers daughter, and ſold ma-
ny Laces.

Weaver. But now of late, not able to travell with her
furr'd Pack, the waſhes bucks here at home.

Cade. Therefore am I of an honorable houſe.

But. I by my faith the field is honorable, and there
was he born, under a hedge: for his Father had neyer a
houſe but a Cage.

Cade. Valiant I am.

Weaver. A muſt needs, for beggery is valiant.

Cade. I am able to endure much.

But. No question of that: for I have ſeen him whip
three Market dayes together.

Cade. I fear neither, ſword nor fire.

Weav. He need not fear the ſword, for his Coat is of
proof.

But. But me thinks he ſhould ſtand in fear of ſire, be-
ing burnt i'th hand for ſtealing of Sheep.

Cade. Be brave then, for your Captain is Brave, and
Vows Reformation. There ſhall be in England, ſeven
half penny Loaves ſold for a penny: the three hoop'd pot,
ſhall have ten hoops, and will make it Fellony to drink
ſmall Beer. All the Realm ſhall be in Common, and in
Cheapſide ſhall my Palfrey go to graſſe: and when I
King, as King I will be.

All. God ſave your Majeſty.

Cade. I thank you good people. There ſhall be no
money, all ſhall eat and drink on my ſcore, and I will
apparell them all in one Livery, that they may agree like
Brothers, and worſhip me their Lord.

But. The firſt thing we do, let's kill all the Lawyers.

Cade. Nay, that I mean to do. Is not this a lamen-
table thing, that the skin of an innocent Lamb ſhould
be made Parchment; that Parchment being ſcribeld o're,
ſhould undo a man. Some ſay the Bee ſtings, but I ſay,
'tis Bees wax: for I did but ſeel once to a thing, and
I was never my own man ſince. How now? Who's there?

Enter a Cleark.

Weaver. The Cleark of Chattam : he can write and
read, and caſt accompt.

Cade. O monſtrous !

Weav. We took him fetting boyes Copies.

Cade.

475

Cade. Here's a Villain.

Weav. H's a Book in his pocket with red Letters in't.

Cade. Nay then he is a Conjurer.

But. Nay, he can make Obligations, and write Court
hand.

Cade. I am forry for't: The man is a proper man of
mine Honour: unless I find him guilty, he shall not die.
Come hither firrah, I must examine thee: What is thy
name?

Cleark. Emanuel.

But. They use to write it on the top of Letters: 'Twill
go hard with you.

Cade. Let me alone: Do't thou use to write thy name?
Or haft thou a mark to thy self, like an honest plain
dealing man?

Clerk. Sir I thank God, I have been so well brought
up, that I can write my name.

All. He hath conceft: away with him: he is a Villain
and a Traitor.

Cade. Away with him I say: Hang him with his Pen
and Ink-horn about his neck.

Exit one with the Cleark.

Enter Michael.

Mich. Where is our General?

Cade. Here I am thou particular fellow.

Mich. Fly, fly, fly, Sir Humfrey Stafford and his bro-
ther are hard by, with the Kings Forces.

Cade. Stand villain, stand or I'll be fall thee down: he
shall be encountered with a man as good as himself. He
is but a Knight, is a?

Mich. No.

Cade. To equal him I will make my self a knight pre-
fently; Rife up Sir John Mortimer, Now have at him.

Enter Sir Humfrey Stafford, and his Brother,
with Drum and Souldiers.

Staf. Rebellious Hinds, the filth and fum of Kent,
Maid for the Gallows; Lay your Weapons down,
Home to your Cottages: forfake this Groom.
The King is mercifull, if you revolt.

Bro. But angry, wrathfull, and inclin'd to bloud,
If you go forward: therefore yield or die.

Cade. As for thefe filken-coated flaves I paffe not,
It is to you good people, that I speak,

Over whom (in time to come) I hope to reign:
For I am rightfull heir unto the Crown.

Staf. Villain, thy Father was a Plaifterer,
And thyself a Shearman, art thou not?

Cade. And Adam was a Gardiner.

Bro. And what of that?

Cade. Marry, this Edmond Mortimer Earle of March,
married the Duke of Clarence daughter, did he not?

Stafford. I fir.

Cade. By her he had two Children at one birth,

Bro. That's falfe.

Cade. I, there's the quefion; But I say, 'tis true:
The elder of them being put to nurfe,

Was by a begger-woman ftoin away,
And ignorant of his birth and parentage,

Became a Bricklayer, when he came to age.
His fon am I, deny it if you can.

But. Nay, 'tis too true, therefore he shall be King.

Weav. Sir, he made a Chimney in my Fathers house,
and the bricks are alive at this day to teſtify it: there-
fore deny it not.

Staf. And will you credit this tale Drudges Words,
that ſpeaks he knows not what?

All. I marry will we, therefore get you gone.

Bro. Jack Cade, the D. of York hath taught you this.

Cade. He lyes, for I invented it my ſelf. Go too Sir-
rah, tell the King from me, that for his Father's fake Hen-
ry the fifth, (in whose time boys went to Span-counter
for French Crowns) I am content he shall reign, but I'e
be Protector over him.

But And further more we'll have the Lord Sayes head,
for felling the Dukedome of Main.

Cade. And good reafon: for thereby is England main'd.
And fain to go with a ſtaffe, but that my puſtance holds
it up, Fellow-Kings, I tell you, that Lord Say hath
gelded the Commonwealth, and made it an Eunuch: and
more then that, he can ſpeak French, and therefore he is
a Traitor.

Staf. O groſſe and miferable ignorance.

Cade. Nay anſwer if you can: The Frenchmen are
our enemies: go too then: I ask but this: Can he that
ſpeaks with the tong of an enemy, be a good Councellor,
or no?

All. No, no, and therefore we'll have his head.

Bro. Well, feeing gentle words will not prevail,
Affayle them with the Army of the King.

Staf. Herauld away, and throughout every Town,
Proclaim them Traitors that are up with Cade,
That thofe which flye before the battell ends,
May even in their wives and Childrens fight,
Be hang'd up for example at their doors:
And you that be the Kings friends follow me.

Cade. And you that love the Commons follow me:
Now ſhew your ſelves men, 'tis for Liberty.

We will not leave one Lord, one Gentleman:

Spare none, but ſuch as go in clouted fhoon,

For they are thrifty honeſt men, and ſuch

As would (but that they dare not) take our parts.

But. They are all in order, and march towards us.

Cade. But then are we in order, when we are moſt out
of order. Come, march forward.

Alarums to the fight, wherein both the Staffords are slain.
Enter Cade and the reſt.

Cade. Where's Dick, the Butcher of Ashford?

But. Here fir.

Cade. They fell before thee like Sheep and Oxen, and
thou behaved'dt thy ſelf, as if thou hadt been in thine
own Slaughter-houſe: Therefore thus I will reward thee,
the Lent shall be as long again as it is, and thou Chalt have
a Liceſe to kill for a hundred lacking one.

But. I define no more.

Cade. And to ſpeak truth, thou deferv'ſt no leſſe.
This Monument of the Victory will I bear, and the bo-
dies shall be dragg'd at my horſes heels, till I do come to
London, where we will have the Maiors ſword borne be-
fore us.

But. If we mean to thrive, and do good, break open
the Goals, and let out the Prifoners.

Cade. Fear not that I warrant thee. Come, let's march
towards London. Exeunt.

Enter the King with a Supplication, and the Queen with
Suffolks head, the Duke of Buckingham, and the
Lord Say.

Queen. Oft have I heard that grief ſoftens the mind,
R. 2. And

Enter George with the Lord Say.

Cade. Well, he shall be beheaded for it ten times:
Ah thou *Say*, thou Surge, nay thou Buckram Lord, now
art thou within point-blank of our Jurisdiction Regall.
What canst thou answer to my Majetty, for giving up of
Normandy unto Mounfleur *Bafimec*, the Dolphin of
France? Be it known unto thee by these prefence, even
the prefence of Lord *Mortimer*, that I am the Beefome
that must sweep the Court clean of such filth as thou
art: Thou haft moft traiterously corrupted the youth of
the Realm, in erecting a Grammar School: and where-
as before, our Fore-fathers had no other Books but the
Score and the Tally, thou haft caufed printing to be us'd,
and contrary to the King, his Crown, and Dignity, thou
haft built a Paper-Mill. It will be proved to thy Face,
that thou haft men about thee, that usually talk of a
*Noun* and a *Verb*, and such abominable words, as
no Christian ear can endure to hear. Thou haft appoint-
ed Justices of Peace, to call poor men before them, a-
bout matters they were not able to answer. Moreover,
thou haft put them in prifon, and becaufe they could not
read, thou haft hang'd them, when (indeed) only for
that caufe they have been moft worthy to live. Thou
do't ride on a foot-cloth, do't thou not?

*Say.* What of that?

Cade. Marry, thou ought'st not to let thy horfe wear
a Cloak, when honefter men then thou go in their Hafe
and Doublets.

Dick. And work in their shirt too, as my self for
example, that am a Butcher.

*Say.* You men of *Kent*.

Dick. What say you of *Kent*.

*Say.* Nothing but this: 'Tis bona terra, mala gens.

Cade. Away with him, away with him, he speaks La-
tine.

*Say.* Heare me but *speak*, and beare me where you
will:

*Kent.* In the Commentaries *Caesar* writ,

*Is term'd the civel'ft place of all this Ille:*

*Sweet is the Country, because full of Riches,*

*The People Liberal, Valiant, Active, Wealthy,*

*Which makes me hope thou art not void of pitty.*

*I fold not *Main*, I loft not *Normandy*,*

*Yet to recover them would Iſe my life:*

*Jufice with favour have I always done,*

*Players and Tears have mov'd me, Gifts could never;*

*When have I ought exacted at your hands?*

*Kent to maintain, the King, the Realm and you,*

*Large gifts have I beſtow'd on learned Clearks,*

*Because my Book preferr'd me to the King,*

*And feeling Ignorance is the curſe of God,*

*Knowledge the Wing wherewith we flye to heaven,*

*Unleſſe you be poffeſt with devilifh ſpirits,*

*You cannot but forbear to murther me:*

*This Tongue hath partled unto Forraign Kings*

*For your behoof.*

Cade. Tut, when Itruck'ft thou one blow in the field?

*Say.* Great men have teaching hands: oft have I *fruck*
Thofe that I never faw, and *fruck* them dead.

*Geo.* O monſtrous Coward! What, to come behinde
Folks?

*Say.* Theſe checks are pale with watching for your good.

*Cade.* Give him a box o' th' ear, and that will make me
red again.

*Say.* Long fitting to determine poor mens caufes,
Hath made me full of fickneſſe and diſeafes.

Cade. Ye shall have a hempen Candle then, and the
help of a hatchet.

Dick. Why do't thou quiver man?

*Say.* The Palfrie, and not fear provokes me.

Cade. Nay he nodds at us, as who should ſay, I'le be
even with you. I'le fee if his head will stand ſeddier on
a pole, or no: Take him away and behead him.

*Say.* Tell me : wherein have I offended moſt ?

Have I affected Wealth, or honor ? Speak.

Are my Cheſts fill'd up with extorted Gold ?

*Is my apparel ſumptuous to behold?*

*Whom have I in ju'd, that ye feek my death?*

*Theſe hands are free from guilſſe bloudſhedding.*

*This breſt from harbouring foul deſcitfull thoughts,*

*O let me live.*

Cade. I feel remorſe in my ſelf with his words : but
I'le bridle it: he ſhall dye, and be it but for pleading ſo
well for his life. Away with him, he ha's a Familiar
under his Tongue, he ſpeaks not a Gods name, Go, take
him away I ſay, and ſtrike off his head preſently, and
then break into his Son in Laws houſe, Sir *James Cromer*,
and ſtrike off his head, and bring them both upon two
poles hither.

*All.* It shall be done.

*Say.* Ah Countrimen ; if when you make your prai'rs,
God ſhould be ſo obdurate as your ſelves :

*How would it fare with your depart'd ſouls?*

*And therefore yet relent, and ſave my life.*

Cade. Away with him, and do as I command ye : the
proudeſt Peer of the Realm, ſhall not wear a head on
his ſhoulders, unleſſe he pay me tribute : there ſhall not
a maid be married, but ſhe ſhall pay me her Maiden-
head ere they have it: Men ſhall hold of me in *Capite*.
And we charge and command, that their wives be as free
as heart can wifh, or tongue can tell.

Dick. My Lord,

*When I'll we go to Cheapſide, and take up commodities
upon our bills?*

Cade. Marry, preſently.

*All.* O brave.

Enter one with the heads.

Cade. But is not this braver :

*Let them kiffle one another: For they lov'd well*

*When they were alive. Now part them again,*

*Leaſt they confult about the giving up*

*Of ſome more Towns in *France*, Souldiers,*

*Defer the ſpoyl of the City untill night;*

*For with theſe borne before us, in ſtead of Maces,*

*Will we ride through the ſtreets, at every Corner*

*Have them kiffle. Away.*

Exit.

*Alarum, and Retreat. Enter again Cade,*
*and all his rabblement.*

Cade. Up Fifth-freet; down Saint Magnes corner,
kill and knock down, throw them into Thames :

Sound a Parley.

*What noſey is this I hear?*

*Dare any be ſo bold to found *Retreat* or Parley*

*When I command them kill?*

R r 3

Enter

Enter Buckingham, and old Clifford.

Buc. I here they be that dare and will disturb thee:
Know Cade, we come Ambassadors from the King
Unto the Commons whom thou haſt miſled,
And here pronounce free pardon to them all,
That will forfaſe thee, and go home in peace.

Clif. What ſay ye Countrimen, will ye relent
And yield to mercy, whilſt 'tis offered you,
Or let a rabble lead you to your deaths.
Who loves the King, and will imbrace his pardon,
Fling up his cap and ſay, God save his Majefty;
Who hateth him, and honors not his Father,
Henry the fifth, that made all France to quake,
Shake he his weapon at us, and paſſe by.

All. God save the King, God save the King.

Cade. What Buckingham and Clifford are ye fo brave?
And you bafe Pezants, do ye believe him, will you needs
be hang'd with your Pardons about your necks? Hath
my ſword therefore broke through London gates, that
you ſhould leave me at the white-heart in Southwarke.
I thought ye would never have given out theſe Armes till
you had recovered your ancient Freedome: but you are
all Recreants and Daſtards, and delight to live in ſlavery
to the Nobility. Let them break your backs with bur-
thens, take your houſes over your heads, ravish your
Wives and Daughters before your faces. For me, I will
make ſhift for one, and ſo Gods Curſe light upon you
all.

All. We'll follow Cade.
We'll follow Cade.

Clif. Is Cade the ſon of Henry the fifth,
That thus you do exclaim you'll go with him,
Will he conduct you through the heart of Franee,
And make the meaneſt of you Earls and Dukes?
Alas, he hath no home, no place to flye to:
Nor knows he how to live, but by the ſpoyle,
Unleſſe by robbing of your Friends, and us.
Wer't not a ſhame, that whilſt you live at jar,
The fearfull French, whom you late vanquihed
Should make a ſtart o're ſeas, and vanquih you?
Me thinks already in this civill broyl,
I fee them Lording it in London ſtreetſ,
Crying Villiage unto all they meet,
Better ten thouand bafe-born Cades miſcarry,
Then you ſhould ſloop unto a Frenchmans mercy.
To France to France, and get what you have loſt;
Spare England, for it is your Native Coaſt:
Henry hath mony, you are ſtrong and manly:
God on our ſide, doubt not of Victory.

All. A Clifford, a Clifford,
We'll follow the King and Clifford.

Cade. Was ever Feather ſo lightly blown too and fro,
as this multitude? The name of Henry the fifth, hales them
to an hundred miſchiefs, and makes them leave me de-
ſolate. I fee them lay their heads together to ſurprize
me. My ſword make way for me, for here is no ſtaying:
in deſpight of the devills and hell, have through the very
middeſt of you, and heavens and honour be witneſſe, that
no want of reſolution in me, but only my Followers
bafe and ignominous treaſons, make me betake me to
my heels.
Exit.

Buck, what, is he fled? Go ſome and follow him,
And he that brings his head unto the King,
Shall have a thouland Crowns for his reward.

Exeunt some of them.

Follow me ſouldiers, we'll devife a mean,
To reconcile you all unto the King.

Exeunt omnes.

Sound Trumpets. Enter King, Queen, and
Somerset on the Tarras.

King. Was ever King that joy'd an earthly THRONE,
And could command no more content then I?
No sooner was I crept out of my Cradle,
But I was made a King at nine months old:
Was never ſubject long to be a King,
As I do long and and wiſh to be a Subjeſt.

Enter Buckingham and Clifford.

Buc. Health and glad tydings to your Maſeſt.
King. Why Buckingham, is the Traitor Cade ſurpris'd?
Or is he but retir'd to make him ſtrong?

Enter Multitudes with Halters about their
Necks.

Clif. He is fled my Lord, and all his powers do yield,
And humbly thus with halters on their necks,
Expect your Highneſts doom of life or death.

King. Then heaven fet ope thy everlaſting gates,
To entertain my vows of thanks and prieſe.
Souldiers, this day have you redeem'd your lives,
And ſhew'd how well you love your Prince and Country:
Continue ſtill in this ſo good a mind.
And Henry though he be unfortunate,
Aſſure your ſelves will never be unkind:
And ſo with thanks and pardon to you all,
I do diſmiſſe you to your ſeverall Countries.

Enter a Meſſenger.

Mef. Pleafe is your Grace to be advertised,
The Duke of York is newly come from Ireland,
And with a puſſant and mighty power
Of Gallow-glaſſes and ſtort Kerntes,
Is marching hitherward in proud array,
And ſtill proclaimeth as he comes along,
His Armies are only to remove from thee
The Duke of Somerset, whom he terms a Traitor.

King. Thus flands my ſtate, 'twixt Cade and York
diſtreft,

Like to a Ship, that having ſcap'd a Tempeſt,
Is straightway claim'd and boarded with a Pyrate,
But now is Cade driven back, his men diſpier'd,
And now is York in armes to ſecond him.
I pray thee Buckingham go and meet him,
And ask him what's the reaſon of theſe Armes:
Tell him, I'll eſend Duke Edmund to the Tower,
And Somerset we will commit thee thither,
Untill his Army be diſmift from him.

Somer. My Lord,
I'e yield my ſelf to prifon willingly,
Or unto death, to do my Country good.

King. In any case, be not to rough in terms,
For he is fierce, and cannot brook hard Language.
Buck. I will my Lord, and doubt not to deal,
As all things ſhall redound unto your good.

King. Come Wife, let's in, and learn to govern better,
For yet may England curſe my wretched reign.

Exeunt.
Enter.

479

Enter Jack Cade.

Cade, Fie on Ambition : fie on my self, that have a
sword, and yet am ready to familh. These five dayes have
I hid me in thefe Woods, and dutft not peep out, for all
the Country is laid for me : but now am I hungry, that
if I might have a leafe of my life for a thoufand years,
I could fly no longer. Wherefore on a Brick wall have
I climb'd into this Garden, to see if I can eat Graffe, or
pick a Sallet another while , which is not amiffe to cool
a mans fomack this hot weather : and I think this word
Sallet was born to do me good ; for many a time but for
a Sallet,my brain-pan had been cleft with a brown Bill;
and many a time when I have been dry, & bravely mart-
ching , it hath ferv'd me inſtead of a quart pot to drink
in: and now the word Sallet muſt ſerve me to feed on.

Enter Iden.

Iden. Lord who would live turmoiled in the Court,
And may enjoy ſuch quiet walks as theſe ?
This ſmall inheritance my Father leſe me,
Contenteth me, and worth a Monarchy.
I ſeek not to wax great by others warning,
Or gather wealth I care not with what envy :
Sufficeth, that I have maintains my ſtate,
And ſends the poor well pleafed from my gate.

Cade. Here's the Lord of the foile come to feize me
for a ſtray, for entring his Fee-fimple without leave. Ah
Villain, thou wilt betray me, and get a 1000. Crowns
of the King by carrying my head to him, but I'le make
thee eat Iron like an Oſtrage, and ſwallow my Sword
like a great pin, ere thou and I part.

Iden. Why rude Companion, whatſoever thou be,
I know thee not, why then ſhould I betray thee ?
I'ſt not enough to break into my Garden,
And like a thief to come to rob my grounds :
Climbing my walls in ſpight of me the Owner,
But thou will brave me with the ſawcie tears me ?

Cade. Brave thee ? I by the beſt bloud that ever was
braach'd, and beard thee too. Look on me well, I have
eat no meat theſe five dayes, yet come thou and thy ſive
men, and If I do not leave you all as dead as a door nail,
I pray God I may never eat graſſe more.

Iden. Nay, it ſhall ne're be ſaid, while England ſtands,
That Alexander Iden an Eſquire of Kent,
Took odds to combate a poor famiſht man.
Oppoſe thy ſtedſaſt gazing eyes to mine,
See if thou canſt out-face me with thy looks :
Set limb to limb, and thou art far the leſer :
Thy hand is but a finger to my ſift,
Thy leg a ſick compared with this Truncheon,
My foot ſhall fight with all the ſtrength thou haſt,
And if mine arme be heaved in the aire,
Thy grave is digg'd already in the earth :
As for words, whoſe greatneſſe anſwers words,
Let this my ſword report what ſpeech forbears.

Cade. By my Valour : the moſt compleat Champion
that ever I heard, Steel, if thou turn the edge, or, cut
not out the burly bon'd Clown in chines of Beef, ere
thou ſleep in thy Sheath, I beſeech ſove on my knees
thou may'ſt be turnd to Hobnails.

Here they fight.

O I am flain, Famine, and no other hath flain me, let ten

thouſand devills come againſt me, and give me but the
ten meals I have loft, and I'de defie them all. Wither
Garden, and be henceforth a burying place to all that do
dwell in this houſe, becauſe the unconquered foul of
Cade is fled.

Iden. Is't Cade that I have flain, that monſtrous traitor?
Sword, I will hollow thee for this thy deed,
And hang thee o're my Tomb, when I am dead.
Ne're shall this bloud be wiped from thy point,
But thou ſhalt wear it as a Heralds coat,
To emblaze the Honor thy Maſter got.

Cade. Iden farewell, and be proud of thy victory : Tell
Kent from me, the hath loft her beſt man, and exhort all
the World to be Cowards : for I that never feared any,
am vanquifhed by famine, not by Valour.

Dies.
Id. How much thou wrong'ſt me, heaven be my judge;
Die damned Wretch, the curſe of her that bare thee :
And as I thrust thy body in with my ſword,
So wifh I, I might thrust thy foul to hell.
Hence will I drag thee headlong by the heels
Unto a dunghill, which ſhall be thy grave,
And there cut off thy moſt ungracious head,
Which I will bear in triumph to the King,
Leaving thy trunk for Crows to feed upon.

Exit.

Enter Tork, and his Army of Irifh, with
Drum and Colours.

Tor. From Ireland thus comes Tork to claim his right,
And pluck the Crown from feeble Henries head,
Ring, Bells aloud, burn Bonfires clear and bright
To entertain great Englands lawfull King.
Ah Sancta Majeſtus ? who would not buy thee dear ?
Let them obey, that knows not how to Rule.
This hand was made to handle nought but Gold.
I cannot give due action to my words,
Except a Sword or Scepter ballance it.
A Scepter ſhall it have, have I a foul,
On which I'le toſſe the Floure-de-Luse of France.

Enter Buckingham

Whom have we here? Buckingham to diſturb me ?
The King hath ſent him ſure : I muſt diſſemble.

Buc. Tork, if thou meanſt well, I greet thee well.

Tor. Humphrey of Buckingham, I accept thy greeting.
Art thou a Meſſenger, or come of pleasure.

Buc. A Meſſenger from Henry, our dread Liege,
To know the reaſon of theſe Armes in peace.
Or why, thou being a ſubjeſt, as I am,
A gainſt thy Oath, and true Allegiance ſworn,
Should raſe ſo great a power without his leave ?
Or dare to bring thy Force ſo near the Court ?

Tor. Scarce can I ſpeak, my Choler is ſo great,
Oh I could hew up Rocks, and fight with Flint,
I am ſo angry at theſe abjeſt termes.
And now like *Ajax Telamonius*,
On Sheep or Oxen could I ſpend my fury.

I am far better born then is the King :
More like a King, more Kingly in my thoughts.
But I muſt make fair weather yet a while,
Till Henry be more weak, and I more ſtrong.

O Buckingham, I prethee pardon me,
That I have given no anſwer all this while:
My mind was troubled with deep Melancholly.
The cauſe why I have brought this army hither,

Nothing so heavy as these woes of mine.

Enter Richard, and Somerset to fight.

Rich. So lie thou there:
For underneath an Ale-houſe paltry ligne,
The Caſtle in S. Albans, Somerset
Hath made the Wizard famous in his death:
Sword, hold thy temper; Heart, be wrathfull ſtill:
Priests pray for enemies, but Princes kill.
*Fight.*
*Excursions.*

Enter King, Queen, and others.

*Qu.* Away my Lord, you are flow, for ſhame away.
*King.* Can we out-run the Heavens? Good Mar-
garet thy.

*Qu.* What are you made of? You'll not fight nor flye:
Now is it manhood, wifdome, and defence,
To give the enemy way, and to ſecure us
By what we can, which can no more but flye.

*Alarum afar off.*
If you be tane, we then ſhould fee the bottome
Of all our Fortunes: but if we haply ſcape,
( As well we may, if not through your negleſt )
We ſhall to London get, where you are lov'd,
And where this breach now in our fortunes made
May readily be ſtopt.

Enter Clifford.

*Clif.* But that my heart's on future miſchief ſet,
I would ſpeak blaſphemy e're bid you flye:
But flye you muſt: Uncureable diſcomſite.
Reigns in the hearts of all our preſent parts,
Away for your relief, and we will live
To fee their day, and them our Fortune give.
Away my Lord, away.

Exeunt.

*Alarum. Retreat, Enter York, Richard, Warwick,
and Souldiers, with Drum and Colours.*

*York.* Of Salisbury, who can report of him,
That winter Lyon, who in rage forges
Aged contusions, and all bruſh off Time:
And like a Gallant, in the brow of youth,
Repairs him with Occasion. This happy day
Is not it ſelfe, nor have we won one foot,
If Salisbury be loſt.

*Rich.* My Noble Father:
Three times to day I hope him to his horſe,
Three times beſtri'd him: Thrice I led him off,
Perſwaded him from any further aſt:
But fill where danger was, ſtill there I met him,
And like rich hangings in an homely houſe,
So was his will, in his old feeble body.
But Noble as he is, look where he comes.

Enter Salisbury.

*Sal.* Now by my Sword, well haſt thou fought to day:
By'th'Maſſe fo did we all. I thank you Richard.

God knows how long it is I have to live:
And it hath pleas'd him that three times to day
You have defended me from eminent death.
Well Lords, we have not got that which we have,
'Tis not enough our foes are this time fled,
Being oppoſites of ſuch repairing Nature.

*York.* I know our safety is to follow them
For (as I hear) the King is fled to London,
To call a preſent Court of Parliament.
Let us purſue him e're the Writs go forth.
What ſayes Lord Warwick, ſhall we after them?

*War.* After them I nay before them if we can:
Now by my hand (Lords) 'twas a glorious day.
Saint Albans battell won by famous *York*,
Shall we be eterniz'd in all Ager to come.
Sound Drum and Trumpets, and to London all,
And more ſuch dayes as these, to us befall.

Exeunt.

F O R N I S H

# The third Part of King HENRY the Sixth.
with the death of the Duke of YORK.

## Actus Primus. Scena Prima.

Alarum.

Enter Plantagenet, Edward, Norfolk, Mountague, Warwick, and Souldiers.

Warwick,

Wonder how the King ecap'd our hands ?

PL. While we purfu'd the Horfmen of the North,

He fliely ftole away, and left his men :

Whereat the great Lord of Northumberland,

Whofe Warlike ears could never brook retreat,
Chear'd up the drooping Army, and himselt.

Lord Clifford and Lord Stafford all a-breast

Charg'd our main Battells Front : and breaking in,
Were by the Swords of Common Souldiers flain.

Edw. Lord Staffords Father, Duke of Buckingham,
Is either flain or wounded dangerous,

I deft his Beaver with a down-right blow :
That this is true (Father) behold his cloud.

Mount. And Brother, here's the Earle of Willeshires

Whom I encounterd as the Battells joyn'd. (bloud)

Rich. Speak thou for me, and tell them what I did.

Plan. Richard hath beſt deferv'd of all my fons :

But is your Grace dead, my Lord of Somerſet ?

Nor. Such hope have all the line of John of Gaunt.

Rich. Thus do I hope to ſhake King Henries head.

Warw. And for do I, viſtorious Prince of York.

Before I fee thee feated in the Throne,
Which now the Houſe of Lancaſter ulurps,
I wou by Heaven, theſe eyes ſhall never cloſe.

This is the Pallace of the fearfull King,
And this the Regall Seat: poſſeſe it York,
For this is chine, and not King Henries Heirs.

Plant. Affift me then, ſweet Warwick, and I will,

For hither we have broken in by force.

Nor. We'll all affift you: he that flyes ſhall die.

Plant. Thanks gentle Norfolk, ſtay by me my Lords,
And Souldiers ſtay and lodge by me this Night.

They go up.

War. And when the King comes, offer him no violence,
Undefle he feek to thruff you out perſence.

Plant. The Queen this day here holds her Parliament,
but little thinks we ſhall be of her counſell,
By words or blows here let us win our right.

Rich. Arm'd as we are, let's ſtay within this Houſe.

War. The cloudy Parliament ſhall this be call'd,
Undefle Plantagenet, Duke of York, be King,

And bathfull Henry depos'd, wholeſe Cowardize
Hath made us by-words to our enemies.

Plant. Then leave me not, my Lords be refolute;
I mean to take poſſeſion of my right.

War. Neither the King, nor he that loves him beſt,
The proudeft he that holds up Lancaſter,
Dares fir a Wing, if Warwick ſhake his Bells.
Ple plant Plantagenet, root him up who dares:
Refolve thee Richard, claim the Englifh Crown.

Enter King Henry, Clifford, Northumberland,
Westmerland, Exeter, and the rest.

Hen. My Lords, look where the ſturdy Rebell fits,
Even in the Chair of State: belike he means,
Backt by the power of Warwick, that faſſe Peer,
To atpire unto the Crown, and reign as King,

Earle of Northumberland, he flew thy Father,
And thine, Lord Clifford, & you both have vow'd revenge
On him, his ſons, his favorites, and his friends.

North. If I be not, Heavens be reveng'd on me.

Clifford. The hope thereof, makes Clifford mourn in
Steel.

West. What, ſhall we ſuffer this? let's pluck him down,
My heart for anger burns, I cannot brook it.

Henry. Be patient, gentle Earle of Westmerland.

Clifford. Patience is for Poultroones, and ſuch is he:
He durſt not fit there had your Father liv'd.

My gracious Lord, here in the Parliament
Let us affayl the Family of Tork.

North. Well haſt thou ſpoken, Couſin be it so.

Henry. Ah, know you not the City favours them,
And they have troops of Souldiers at their beck ?

Westm. But when the Duke is flain, they'll quickly
flye.

Henry. Far be the thought of this from Henries heart.
To make a ſhambles of the Parliament Houſe,
Couſin of Exeter, frowns, words, and threats,
Shall be the War that Henry means to uſe:
Thou faſtious Duke of York, defcnd my Throre,
And kneel for grace and mercy at my feet,
I am thy Soveraign.

York. I am thine.

Exet. Far ſhame come down, he made thee Duke of
York.

Tork. It was my Inheritance, as the Earldome was.

Exet. Thy

The third Part of King Henry the Sixth.

484

Thy Father was a Traitor to the Crown.

*War. Exeter thou art a Traitor to the Crown.*

In following this furping Henry.

*Clifford.* Whom should he follow, but his natural

King?

*War. True Clifford, and that's Richard Duke of York.*
*Henry. And shall I stand, and thou fit in my throne?*

*York. It must and shall be so, content thy self.*

*Warm. Be Duke of Lancafter, let him be King.*

*Westm. He is both King, and Duke of Lancafter,*

And that the Lord of Westimerland shall maintain.

*War. And Warwick shall disprove it. You forget,*

That we are those which chas'd you from the field,
And flew your Fathers, and with Colours spread
March'd through the City to the Pallace Gates.

*North. Yes Warwick, I remember it to my grief.*

And by his Soul, thou and thy House shall rue it.

*West. Plantagenet, of thee and thefe thy Sons,*

Thy Kinfmen, and thy Friends, I've have more lives
Then drops of blood were in my Fathers Veins.

*Cliff. Urge it no more, left that instead of words*

I fend thee, Warwick, such a Meffenger,

As shall revenge his death, before I fit.

*Warw. Poor Clifford, how I scorn his worthleſſe
Threats.*

*Plant. Will you we ſhew our Title to the Crown?*

If not, our Swords ſhall plead it in the field.

*Henry. What Title haſt thou Traitor to the Crown?*

My Father was as thou art, Duke of York,

Thy Grandfather Roger Mortimer, Earle of March.

I am the Son of Henry the Fifth,

Who made the Dolphin and the French to flap,
And feiz'd upon their Towns and Provinces.

*Warw. Talk not of France, ſith thou haſt loſt it all.*

*Henry. The Lord Protecſor loſt it, and not I.*

When I was crown'd I was but nine months old,

*Rich. You are old enough now,*

And yet me thinks you loſe :

Father tear the Crown from the Uſurpers Head,

*Edward. Sweet Father do so, fet it on your Head.*

*Mount. Good Brother,*

As thou louſt and honoreſt Armes,

Let's fight it out, and not ſtand cavilling thus.

*Richard. Sound Drums and Trumpets, and the King
will flye.*

*Plant. Sons peace.*

*Henry. Peace thou, and give King Henry leave to
speak.*

*Warw. Plantagenet shall speak first: Hear him Lords,*

And be you ſilent and attentive too,

For he that interrupts him, shall not live.

*Hen. Think't thou, that I will leave my Kinglye Throné,*

Wherein my Grandſire and my Father fat ?

No: first shall War unpeople this my Realm;

I, and their Colours often borne in France,

And now in England, to our hearts great ſorrow,

Shall be my Winding-sheet. Why faint you Lords?

My Title's good, and better far then his.

*Warw. But prove it Henry, and thou ſhalt be King.*

*Hen. Henry the Fourth by Conqueſt got the Crown.*

*Plant. 'Twas by rebellion againſt his King,*

*Hen. I know not what to ſay, my Title's weak:.*

Tell me, may not a King adopt an Heir ?

*Plant. What then ?*

*Plant. If he may, then am I lawfull King:*

For Richard, in the view of many Lords,

Reſign'd the Crown to Henry the Fourth,
Whofe Heir my Father was, and I am his,

*Plant. He roſe againſt him, being his Soveraign,
And made him to reſign his Crown perſence.*

*Warm. Suppofe, my Lords, he did my unconſtrain'd,
Think you 'twere prejudiciall to his Crown?*

*Exet. No: for he could not reſign his Crown,*

But that the next Heir ſhould ſucceed and reign.

*Henry. Art thou againſt us, Duke of Exeter ?*

*Exet. His is the right, and therefore pardon me,*

*Plant. Why ſhisper you, my Lords, and anſwer not?*

*Exet. My Conſcience tells me he is lawfull King.*

*Henry. All will revolt from me, and turn to him,*

*North. Plantagenet, for all the Claim thou lay't,*

Think not, that Henry shall be ſo depos'd.

*Warm. Depos'd he shall be in deſpight of all.*

*Northumb. Thou art deceiv'd :*

*'Tis not thy Southern power*

*Of Eſſex, Norfolk, Suffolk, nor of Kent,*

Which makes thee thus preſumptuous and proud,

Can fet the Duke up in deſpight of me.

*Cliff. King Henry, be thy Title right or wrong,*

Lord Clifford vows to ſelect in thy defence:

May that ground gape, and ſwallow me alive;

Where I ſhall kneel to him that flew my Father.

*Hen. Oh Clifford, how thy words revive my heart,*

*Plant. Henry of Lancafter, reſign thy Crown:*

What mutter you, or what confpire you Lords?

*Warw. Do right unto this Princely Duke of York,*

Or I will fill the houſe with armed men,

And o're the Chair of State, where now he ſits,

Write up his Title with ſurpuring bloud.

*He stamps with his foot, and the Souldiers shew themselves*

*Henry. My Lord of Warwick, hear me but one word,
Let me for this time reign as King.*

*Plant. Conſirm the Crown to me, and to mine Heirs,
And thou ſhalt reign in quiet while thou liv't.*

*Hen. I am content: Richard Plantagenet*

Enjoy the Kingdome after my decaſe.

*Clifford. What wrong is this unto the Prince, your
Son ?*

*War. What good is this to England, and himſelf?*

*Westm. Bafe, fearſull, and deſpairing Henry.*

*Cliff. How haſt thou injur'd both thy ſelf and us?*

*Westm. I cannot ſay to hear theſe Articles.*

*Northumb. Nor I.*

*Clifford. Come Couſin, let us tell the Queen theſe
News.*

*West. Farewell faint-hearted and degenerate King,*

In whole cold bloud no ſpark of honour bides.

*North. Be thou a prey unto the Houſe of York,*

And die in Bands, for this unmanly deed,

*Cliff. In dreadſull War may't thou be overcome,*

Or live in peace abandon'd and deſpis'd.

*Warw. Turn this way Henry, and regard them not.*

*Exeter. They ſeek revenge, and therefore will not
yield.*

*Henry. Ah Exeter.*

*Warw. Why ſhould you ſigh my Lord ?*

*Hen. Not for my ſelf Lord Warwick, but my Son,*

Whom I unnaturally diſ-inherit

But be it as it may: I here entayle

The Crown to thee and to thine heirs for ever,

Conditionally, that here you take an Oath,

To ceaſe this Civil War: and whil't I live,

To

Thou, Richard, that to the Duke of Norfolk,
And tell him privily of our intent.
You, Edward, shall unto my Lord Cobham,
With whom the Kentish-men will willingly rife.
In them I truft; for they are Souldiers,
Witty, courteous, liberall, full of spirit.
While you are thus employ'd, what rcfeth more,
But that I feek occafion how to rife?
And yet the King not privy to my drift,
Nor any of the Houfe of Lancafter.

Enter Gabriel.

But flay, what Newes ? why comm'ft thou in such
poſte ?

Gabriel, The Queen,
With all the Northern Earls and Lords,
Intend here to befiege you in your Caſtle.
She is hard by, with twenty thouſand men :
And therefore fortifie your hold, my Lord.
Yor. I, with my Sword.
What ? think'ft thou, that we fear them ?
Edward and Richard, you ſhall flay with me,
My Brother Mountague ſhall poſte to London.
Let noble Warwick, Cobham, and the reſt,
Whom we have left Protecors of the King.
With powerfull Policy reſtrengeth themſelves,
And truſt not ſimple Henry, nor his Oathes.
Moun. Brother, I go : I'le win them, fear it not.
And thus moſt humbly I do take my leave.

Exit Mountague.

Enter Mortimer, and his Brother.

Yor. Sir John, and Sir Hugh Mortimer, mine Unckles,
You are come to Sandall in a happy hour.
The Army of the Queen means to beſiege us.
John. She ſhall not need, we'll meet her in the field.
Yor. What, with five thouſand men ?
Rich. I, with five hundred, Father, for a need.
A Woman's Generall : what ſhould we fear ?

A March afar off.

Edw. I hear their Drummes :
Let's fet our men in order ;
And ilſue forth, and bid them Battell ſtraight.
Yor. Five men to twenty : though the oddes be great,
I doubt not, Unckle, of our Victory.
Many a Battell have I won in France,
When as the Enemy hath been ten to one :
Why ſhould I not now have the like ſucceſſe ?

Alarum.

Exit.

Enter Rutland, and his Tutor.

Rutl. Ah, whether ſhall I flye, to ſcape their hands ?
Ah, Tutor, look where bloody Clifford comes.

Enter Clifford.

Clifford. Chaplain, away, thy Priefthood ſaves thy
As for the Brat of this accuſed Duke, (life,
Whoſe Father flew my Father, he ſhall die.
Tutor. And I, my Lord, will bear him company.
Cliff. Souldiers, away with him.
Tutor. Ah Clifford, murther not this innocent Child,
Leaſt thou be hated both of God and Man.

Clifford. How now ? is he dead already ?
Or is it fear that makes him cloſe his eyes ?
I'le open them.
Rutl. So looks the pent-up Lyon o're the wretch,
That trembles under his devouring Paws :
And fo he walks, infuſing o're his Prey,
And fo he comes to rend his Limbs aſunder.
Ah, gentle Clifford, kill me with thy Sword,
And not with iuch a crnell threatening Look.
Sweet Clifford, hear me ſpeak, before I die :
I am too mean a ſubject for thy wrath,
Be thou reveng'd on men, and let me live.

Cliff. In vain thou ſpeak'ſt, poor Boy :
My Fathers blood hath ſtopt the paſſage
Where thy words ſhould enter.

Rutl. Then let my Fathers blood open it again,
He is a man, and, Clifford, cope with him.
Cl. Had I thy Brethren here, their lives and thine

Were not revenge ſufficient for me :
No, if I digg'd up thy fore-fathers Graves,
And hung their rotten Coffins up in Chains,
It could not ſlake mine ire, nor eafe my heart.
The fight of any of the Houſe of Tork,
Is as a Fury to torment my Soul :
And till I root out their accuſed Line,
And leave not one alive, I live in hell.
Therefore----

Rutl. Oh let me pray, before I take my death :
To thee I pray ; ſweet Clifford, pitty me.
Clifford. Such pitty as my Rapiers point aſfoords.
Rut. I never did thee harm : why wilt thou flay
me ?

Clif. Thy Father hath.
Rut. But twas ere I was born.
Thou haſt one Son, for his ſake pitty me,
Leaſt in revenge thereof, ſith God is juſt,
He be as miferably ſlain as I.
Ah, let me live in Prifon all my dayes,
And when I give occafion of offence,
Then let me die, for now thou haſt no caufe.

Cliff. No caufe ? thy Father ſlew my Father : there-
fore die,
Rutl. Dii faciant laudis ſumma ſit iſta tue.
Cl. Plantagenet, I come Plantagenet :
And this thy Sons blood cleaving to my Blade,
Shall ruſt upon my Weapon, till thy blood
Congeal'd with this, do make me wipe off both Exit.

Alarum. Enter Richard, Duke of Tork.

Yor. The Army of the Queen hath got the field :
My Unckles both are ſlain in reſcuing me,
And all my followers to the eager foe
Turn back, and flye, like Ships before the wind,
Or Lambs purfu'd by hunger-ſtarved Wolves.
My Sons, God knows what hath bechanced them :
But this I know, they have denean'd themſelves
Like men born to Renown, by Life or Death.
Three times did Richard make a Lane to me,
And thrice cri'd, Courage Father, fight it out :
And full as oft came Edward to my fide,
With Purple Faulchion, painted to the Hilt,
In blood of thate that had encountered him :
And when the hardieſt Warriours did retire,
Richard cri'd, Charge, and give no foot of ground,
And cri'd, A Crown, or eſſe a glorious Tombe,

A

The third part of King Henry the Sixth.

A Scepter or an Earthly Sepulcher,
With this we charg'd again : but out alafs,
We bodg'd again : as I have seen a Swan
With bootleffe labour fwim againft the Tide,
And spend her strength with over-matching waves.

*A sport alarum within.*

Ah heark, the fatall followers do purfue,
And I am faint, and cannot flye their fury.
And were I ftrong, I would not flun their fury.
Tie Sands are numbred, that make up my life,
Here muft I ftay, and here my life muft end.

*Enter the Queen, Clifford, Northumberland, the
young Prince, and Souldiers*

Come bloody Clifford, rough Northumberland,
I dare your quenchleffe fury to more rage :
I am your But, and I abide your ſhot.

*North.* Yield to our mercy, proud Plantagenet.

*Cliff.* I, to ſuch mercy, as his ruthleſſe Arme

With down-right payment, ſhew'd unto my Father.

*With Phaeton hath tumbed from his Carre,*
*And made an Evening at the Noon-tide Prick*

*Tor.* My affhes, as the Phoenix may bring forth

A Bird, that will revenge upon you all :

And in that hope, I throw mine eyes to heaven,
Scorning what ere you can affhct me with.

Why come you not ? what ? multitudes, and fear ?

*Cliff.* So Cowards fight, when they can flye no further,
So Doves do peck the Falcons piercing Tallons,
So desperate Thieves, all hopeleſſe of their Lives,
Breathe out invectives 'gainſt the Officers.

*Tor.* Oh Clifford, but bethink thee once again,

And in thy thought o're-run my former time :

And if thou canſt, for bluſhing, view this face,

And bite thy tongue, that flanders him with Cowardice,
Whole frown hath made thee faint and flye ere this.

*Cliff.* I will not bandy with thee word for word,

But buckler with thee blows twice two for one.

*Quee.* Hold, valiant Clifford, for a thouſand cauſes

I would prolong a while the Traytors Life :

*Wrath makes him deaf; ſpeak thou Northumberland.*
*North.* Hold, Clifford, do not honour him so much,

To prick thy finger, though to wounſ his heart.

What valour were it, when a Curre doth grin,

For one to thrust his Hand between his Teeth,

When he might ſpurn him with his foot away ?

It is VVars prize, to take all vantages,

And ten to one, is no impeach of Valour.

*Clifford.* I, I, ſo I trives the Woodcock with the
Gynne.

*Northumberland.* So doth the Cony ſtruggle in the
Net.

*Tor.* So triumph Thieves upon their conquer'd Boory,
So true men yield, with Robbers ſo o're-matcht.

*North.* What would your Grace have done unto him
now?

*Quee.* Brave Warriors, Clifford and Northumberland,
Come make him ſtand upon this Mole-hill here,
That caught at Mountains with out-stretched Armes,
Yet parted but the shadow with his hand.

What, was it you that would be Englands King?

Was't you that revell'd in our Parliament,

And made a Preachment of your high Deſcent ?

Where are your meſſe of Sons to back you now ?

The wanton Edward, and the luſty George ?

And where's that valiant Ciook-back Prodigy,
Dicky, your Boy, that with his grumbling voyce
Was wont to cheer his Dad in Mutinies ?

Or with the reſt, where is your Darling, Rutland ?

*Look Tork, I ſtain'd this Napkin with the blood*

That valiant Clifford, with his Rapiers point,

Made ilſue from the boſome of the Boy,

And if thine eyes can water for his Death,

I give thee this to dry thy Cheeks with all.

Alafs poor Tork, but that I hate thee deadly,

I should lament thy miferable ſtate.

I prethee grieve, to make me merry, Tork.

What, hath thy ſiery heart ſo parcht chine entrails,

That not a tear can fall for Rutland's Death ?

Why art thou patient, man ? thou should'ſt be mad :

And I, to make thee mad, do mock thee thus.

Stamp, rave, and fret, that I may ſing and dance.

Thou would'ſt be ſee'd, I fee, to make me ſport :

*Tork* cannot ſpeak, unleſſe he wear a Crown,

A Crown for Tork; and Lords bow low to him :

Hold you his hands, whileſt I do ſet it on.

I marry, Sir, now looks he like a King :

I, this is he that took King Henry's Chair,

And this is he was his adopted Heir.

But how is it, that great Plantagenet

Is Crown'd ſo ſoon, and broke his ſolemn Oath ?

As I bethink me, you should not be King,

Till our King Henry had ſhook hands with Death.

And will you pale your head in Henry's Glory,

And rob his Temples of the Diadem,

Now in his Life againſt your holy Oath ?

Oh 'tis a fault too too unpardonable.

Off with the Crown, and with the Crown, his Head,
And whil't we breathe take time to do him dead.

*Clifford.* That is my Office, for my Fathers ſake.

*Queen.* Nay ſtay, let's hear the Orisons he
makes,

*Tork.* She-Wolf of France,

But worſe then Wolves of France,

Whose Tongue more poyſons then the Adders Tooth :

How ill-beſeeming is it in thy Sex,

To triumph like an Amazouian Trull,

Upon their Woes, whom Fortune captivates ?

But that thy Face is Vizard-like, unchanging,

Made impudent with uſe of evil deeds,

I would ſaffay, proud Queen, to make thee bluſh.

To tell thee whence thou cam'ſt, of whom deriv'd,

Were ſhame enough to ſhame thee,

Wert thou not ſhameleſſe,

Thy Father bears the type of King of Naples,

Of both the Sicils, and Jernſalem,

Yet not so wealthy as an English Yeoman.

Hath that poor Monarch taught thee to inſult ?

It needs not, nor it boots thee not, proud Queen,

Unleſſe the Adage muſt be vereſi'd,

That Beggars mounted, run their Horſe to death.

'Tis Beauty that doth oft make Women proud,

But God he knows, thy ſhare thereof is ſmall.

'Tis Virtue that doth make them moſt admir'd,

The contrary doth make thee wondred at.

'Tis Government that makes them ſeem Divine,

The want thereof makes thee abominable.

Thou art as oppoſite to every good,

As the Antipodes are unto us,

Or as the South to the Septentrion,

Oh Tigres Heart, wrapt in a Womans Hide,

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How could it thou drain the Life-blood of the Child,
To bid the Father wipe his eyes withall,
And yet be seen to bear a Womans face ?
Women are soft, mild, pittifull, and flexible ;
Thou Stern, obdurate, flinty, rough, remorfeleffe,
Bidst thou me rage ? why now thou haft thy will,
Would it have me weep ? why now thou haft thy will.
For raging wind blows up ineffant showers,
And when the Rage allayes, the Rain begins.
These Teares are my sweet Rutlands Obliquies,
And every drop cries vengeance for his death,
'Gaint thee, fell Clifford, and thee, false French-woman,
Northumb. Bethrew me, but his paffions move me so,
That hardly can I check mine eyes from Teares.

Tor. That face of his,

The hungry Caniballs would not have toucht,
Would not have stain'd the Ropes, just with blood :
But you are more inhumane, more inexorable,
Oh, ten times more then Tygers of Hyrcania,
See, ruthleffe Queen, a hapleffe Fathers teares :
This Clothe thou dip'd in blood of my sweet Boy,
And I with teares do wath the blood away.
Keep thou the Napkin, and go boast of this,
And if thou tell't the heavy story right,
Upon my Soul, the hearers will sted Teares :
Yea, even my Foes will sted fast-falling Teares,
And bay, alafs, it was a pittious deed.
There, take the Crown, and with the Crown, my Curfe.
And in thy need, fuch comfort come to thee,
As now I reap at thy too cruell hand.
Hard-hearted Clifford, take me from the World,
My Soul to Heaven, my Blood upon your Heads.

North. Had he been fllaughter-man to all my Kin,
I should not for my Life but weep with him,
To fee how inly forrow gripes his Soul.

Quee. What, weeping ripe, my Lord Northumberland?
Think but upon the wrong he did us all,
And that will quickly dry thy melting Teares.

Clifford. Here's for my Oath, here's for my Fathers
Death.

Quee. And here's to right our gentle-hearted
King.

Tor. Open thy Gate of mercy, gracious God.

My Soul flies through thefe wounds, to seek out thee.

Quee. Off with his Head, and fet it on York Gates,
So York may over-look the Town of York.

Exeunt.

A March. Enter Edward, Richard,
and their power.

Edw. I wonder how our Princely Father fcap't :
Or whether he be fcap't away, or no,
From Cliffsords and Northumberland purfuit :
Had he been tanc, we should have heard the newes :
Had he been flian, we fhould have heard the newes :
Or had he fcap't, methinks we fhould have heard
The happy tidings of his good eſcape.

How fares my Brother ? why is he ſad ?

Rich. I cannot joy untill I be refolv'd
Where our right valiant Father is become.
I faw him in the Battell range about,
And watcht him how he fingled Clifford forth,
Me thought he bore him in the thickeſt troup,
As doth a Lyon in a Heard of Neat,
Or as a Bear encompafs'd round with Dogs :

Who having pincht a few, and made them cry,
The reft stand all aloof, and bark at him,
So far'd his Father with his Enemies,
So fled his Enemies, my Warlike Father :
Me thinks 'tis prize enough to be his Son.
See how the Morning opesher golden Gates,
And takes her farewell of the glorious Sun,
How well reſembles it the prime of Youth,
Trimm'd like a Yonker, prancing to his Love?

Ed. Dazle mine eyes, or do I fee three Suns ?

Rich. Three glorious Suns, each one a perfect Sun,
Not separated with the racking Clouds,
But fever'd in a pale clear-shining skie.

See, fee they joyn, embrace, and seem to kiffe,
As if they vow'd ſome League inviolable.

Now are they but one Lamp, one Light, one Sun :
In this, the Heaven figures ſome event.

Edw. 'Tis wondrous ſtrange,
The like yet never heard of.
I think it cites us (Brother) to the field,
That we, the Sons of Plantagenet,
Each one already blazing by our meeds,
Should not withstanding joyn our Lights together,
And over-shine the Earth, as this the World.
What e're it bodes, hence-forward will I bear
Upon my Target three fair ſhining Suns.

Rich. Nay, bear three Daughters :
By your leave, I peake it,
You love the Breeder better then the Male.

Enter one blowing.

But what art thou, whoſe heavy Looks fore-tell
Some dreadfull ſtory hanging on thy Tongue ?

Meff. Ah, one that was a wofull looker on,
When as the Noble Duke of York was flain,
Your Princely Father, and my loving Lord.

Edward. Oh ſpeak no more, for I have heard too
much.

Rich. Say how he di'd, for I will hear it all.

Meff. Environed he was with many foes,
And flood againſt them, as the hope of Troy.
Against the Greeks, that would have entred Troy.
But Hercules himſelf much yield to oddes :
And many ſtroaks, though with a little Axe,
Hewes down and fells the hardeſt-timber'd Oake.
By many hands your Father was ſubdu'd,

But onely ſlaughter'd by the irefull Arme
Of un-relenting Clifford, and the Queen :
Who crown'd the gracious Duke in high deſight,
Laugh'd in his face: and when with grief he wept,
The ruthleſſe Queen gave him, to dry his Cheek,
A Napkin, ſteeped in the harmleſſe blood
Of sweet young Rutland, by rough Clifford ſlain :
And after many ſcorns, many foul taunts,
They took his Head, and on the Gates of York
They fet the fame, and there it doth remain,
The faddeſt ſpectacle that e're I view'd.

Edw. Sweet Duke of York, our Prop to lean upon,
Now thou art gone, we have no Staffe, no Stay.
Oh Clifford, boyſt'rous Clifford, thou haſt flain
The flower of Europe, for his Chevalry,
And treacherouſly haſt thou vanquiſht him,
For hand to hand he would have vanquiſht thee.

Now my Souls Palace is become a Prifon :
Ah, would the break from hence, that this my body

Might

Might in the ground be closed up in reft:
For never henceforth shall I joy again :
Never, oh never shall I fee more joy.

Rich. I cannot weep : for all my bodies moisture
Scarce serves to quench my Furnace-burning heart :
Nor can my tongue unload my hearts great burthen,
For self-fanie winde that I should speak withall,
is kindling coales that fires up all my breft,
And burns meup with flames, that teares would quench,
To weep, is to make leffe the depth of grief :
Teares then for Babes ; Blowes, and Revenge for me.
Richard, I hear thy name, I'le venge thy Death,
Or die renowned by attempting it.

Ed. His name that valiant. Duke hath left with thee:
His Dukedome, and his Chair with me is left.

Rich. Nay, if thou be that Princely Eagles Bird,
Shew thy defcent by gazing 'gainft the Sun :
For Chair and Dukedome, THRONE and Kingdome say,
Either that is thine, or else thou wert not his.

March. Enter Warwick, Marquess Mountague,
and their Army.

Warwick. How now, faire Lords ? what fare ? what newes abroad ?

Rich. Great Lord of Warwick, if we should recount
Our halefull newes, and at each words deliverance.
Stab Poniards in our flesh, till all were told,
The words would adde moreanguish then the wounds,
O valiant Lord, the Duke of York is flain.

Edw. O, Warwick, Warwick, that Plantagenet,
Which held thee dearly as his Souls Redemption,
Is by the ferne Lord Clifford done to death.

War. Ten dayes ago I drown'd these newes in teares,
And now to adde more measure to your woes,
I come to tell you things fith then befain.
After the bloody Fray at Wakefield fought,
Where your brave Father breath'd his lateft gasp,
Tidings, as fwidely as the Pofts could run,
Were brought me of your loffe, and his depart.
I then in London, keeper of the King,
Mutter'd my Souldiers, gathered flocks of Friends,
Marcht toward S. Albans, to intercept the Queen,
Bearing the King in my behalf along:
For by my Scouts, I was adverted

That the was comming with a full intent
To dafh our late Decree in Parliament,
Touching King Henry's Oath, and your Succeffion :
Short Tale to make, we at S. Albans met,
Our Battells joyn'd, and both fides fiercely fought :
But whether 'twas the coldneſſe of the King,
Who look'd full gently on his War-like Queen,
That robb'd my Souldiers of their heated Spleen.
Or whether 'twas report of her Succeffe,
Or more then common fear of Cliffsorſs Rigour,
Who thunders to his Captives, Blood and Death,
I cannot judge: but to conclude with truth,
Their Weapons like to Lightning, came and went:
Our Souldiers like the Night-Owles lazy flight,
Or like a lazy Threſher with a Flayle,
Fell gently down, as if they ſtruck their friends.
Heche'r them up with juſtice of our Caufe.

With promife of high pay, and great Reward :
But all in vain, they had no heart to fight,
And we (in them) no hope to win the day,
So that we fled: the King unto the Queen,
Lord George, your Brother Norfolk, and my ſelf,

In haſte, poſt-haſte, are come to joyn with you :
For in the Marches here we heard you were,
Making another Head, to fight again.

Ed. Where is the Duke of Norfolk, gentle Warwick?
And when came George from Burgundy to England?

War. Some fix miles off the Duke is with the Soldiers;
And for your Brother he was lately ſent
From your kind Aunt, Dutchefſe of Burgundy,
With aid of Souldiers to this needfull Warre.

Rich. 'Twas oddes belike, when valiant Warwick fled;
Oft have I heard his praifes in purſuit,
But ne're till now, his ſcandall of Retire.

War. Nor now my ſcandall, Richard, doſt thou hear :
For thou haſt know this strong right hand of mine,
Can pluck the Distdem from faint Henry's head,
And wring the awfull Scepter from his Fift,
Were he as famous, and as bold in warre,
As he is fam'd for mildneſſe, peace, and prayer.

Rich. I know it well, Lord Warwick, blame me not,
'Tis love I bear thy glories makes me speak.

But in this troublous time, what's to be done ?
Shall we go throw away our Coats of Steele,
And wrap our Bodies in black mourning Gowns,
Numb'ring our Ave-Maries with our Beads ?

Or ſhall we on the Helmets of our foes,
Tell our Devotion with revengefull Armes?
If for the laſt, ſay I, and to it Lords.

War. Why therefore Warwick came to ſeek you out,
And therefore comes my Brother Mountague :

Attend me Lords, the proud infulting Queen,
With Clifford, and the haught Northumberland,
And of their Feather, many moe proud Birds,
Have wrought the eafie-melting King, like Wax,

He ſwore confent to your Succeffion,
His Oath enrolled in the Parliament.
And now to London all the crew are gone,
To ſufrstrate both his Oath, and what befide
May make againſt the Houſe of Lancaſter.
Their power (I think) is thirty thouſand ſtrong :
Now, if the help of Norfolk, and my ſelf,
With all the friends that thou brave Earl of March,
Among'ſt the loving Welch-men canſt procure,
Will but amount to five and twenty thouſand,
Why Via, to London will we march,
And once again beſtride our foaming Steeds,
And once again cry, Charge upon our foes,
But never once again turn back and flye.

Rich. I, now me thinks I hear great Warwick ſpeak;
Ne're may he live to fee a ſun-shine day,
That cries Retire, if Warwick bid him ſtay.

Ed. Lord Warwick, on thy shoulder will I lean,
And when thou fail'ſt (as God forbid the hour)
Muff Edward fall, which perill heaven forfend.

War. No longer Earl of March, but Duke of York :
The next Degree, is Englands Royall Throne :

For King of England haſt thou be proclaim'd
In every Burrough as we paffe along,
And he that throws not up his cap for joy,
Shall for the fault make forfeit of his head.

King Edward, valiant Richard Mountague :
Stay we no longer, dreaming of Renown,
But found the Trumpets, and about our Task.

Rich. Then, Clifford, wear thy heart as hard as fléele,
As thou haſt ſhewn it flinty by thy deeds,
I come to pierce it, or to give thee mine.

Edw. Then ſtrike up Drums, God and S. George for us,

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489

Fore-flow no longer, make we hence amain.

Exeunt.

Excursions. Enter Richard and Clifford.
Rich. Now Clifford, I have fingled thee alone;
Suppose this ame is for the Duke of York,
And this for Rutland, both bound to revenge,
Wert thou inviron'd with a Brazen wall.
Clif. Now Richard, I am with thee here alone,
This is the hand that ftabb'd thy Father York,
And this the hand that flew thy Brother Rutland,
And here's the heart, that triumphs in their death,
And cheers these hands that flew thy Sire and Brother,
To execute the like upon thy self,
And fo have at thee.

They fight, Warwick comes, Clifford flies.

Rich. Nay Warwick, single out some other Chace,
For I my self will hunt this Wolf to death.

His cold thin drink out of his Leather Bottle,
His wonted sleep, under a freih Trees fhade,
All which fecure, and fweetly he enioyes,
Is farre beyond a Princes Delicates :
His Viands sparkling in a Golden Cup,
His body couched in a curious bed,
When Care, Miftruft, and Treaſons waits on him.

Alarum. Enter a Son that hath kill'd his Father at one door, and a Father that hath kill'd his Son at another door.

Alarum. Enter King Henry alone.

Hen. This Battell fares like to the mornings Warre,
When dying Clouds contend with growing Light,
What time the Shepheard blowing of his nailes,
Can neither call it perfect day, nor night,
Now fwayes it this way, like a mighty Sea,
Fore'd by the Tide to combat with the Wind :
Now fwayes it that way, like the felf-fame Sea,
Fore'd to retire by fury of the Winde.

Sometimes, the Flood prevails; and then the Winde :
Now, one the better, then another beft;
Both tugging to be Viftors, breft to breft :
Yet neither Conqueror, nor conquered,
So is the equall poize of this fell Warre.
Here on this Mole-hill will I fit me down,
To whom God will, there be the victory :
For Margaret my Queen, and Clifford too
Have chid me from the Battell; Swearing both,
They proper beft of all when I am thence.
Would I were dead, if Gods good will were fo:
For what is in this world, but grief and woe.
Oh God ! me thinks it were a happy life,
To be no better then a homely Swain,
To fit upon a hill, as I do now,

To carve out Dialls quincently, point by point,
Thereby to fee the Minutes how they run :
How many makes the Hour full compleat,
How many houres bring about the day,
How many dayes will finifh up the year,
How many yeares a mottall Man may live.
When this is known, then to divide the Times :
So many houres muſt I tend my Flock :
So many houres muſt I take my reſt :
So many houres muſt I contemplate :
So many houres muſt I ſport my ſelf :
So many dayes my Ewes have been with young :
So many dayes ere the poor Fools will Ean :
So many yeares ere I ſhall ſheer the Fleece :
So minutes, houres, dayes, moneths, and yeares,
Paſt over to the end they were created,
Would bring white haires unto a quiet Grave.
Ah ! what a life were this ? how ſweet, how lovely ?
Gives not the Haw-thorn buſh a ſweeter ſhade
To Shepheards, looking on their filly ſheep,
Then doth a rich embroider'd Canopy
To Kings, that fear their Subjects treachery ?
Oh yes, it doth, a thouſand fold it doth,
And to conclude, the Shepheards homely Curds,

Son. I'll blowes the winde that profits no body,
This man whom hand to hand I flew in fight,
May be poffeffed with ſome ſtore of Crowns,
And I that (happily) take them from him now,
May yet (ere night) yield both my life and them
To ſome dead man eſſe, as this dead man doth me.
Who's this ? Oh God ! it is my Father's face,
Whom in this Confliſt, I (unwares) have kill'd :
Oh heavy times ! begetting ſuch events.
From London, by the King was I preſt forth,
My Father being the Earl of Warwick's Man,
Came on the part of York; preſt by his Maſter :
And I, who at his hands receiv'd my life,
Have by my hands of life bereaved him.
Pardon me, God, I knew not what I did :
And pardon, Father, for I knew not thee.
My teares shall wipe away theſe bloody marks :
And no more words, till they have flow'd their fill.

King. O pittious ſpectacle ! O bloody Times !
Whites Lyons warre, and Battell for their Dennes,
Poor harmiſſe Lambs abide their enmity.
Weep, wretched man, I'le aid thee for Tear for Tear,
And let our hearts and eyes, like Civil Warre,
Be blinde with teares, and break o're-charg'd with grief.

Enter Father, bearing of his Son.
Fa. Thou that fo ſtoutly haſt refiſted me,
Give me thy Gold, if thou haſt any Gold :
For I have bought it with an hundred blowes.
But let me fee: is this our foe-man's ſface ?
Ah, no, no, no, it is mine only Son,
Ah Boy, if any life be left in thee,
Throw up thine eye; fee, fee, what flowers arise,
Blown with the windy Tempeſt of my heart,
Upon thy wounds, that kills mine eye, and heart.
O pitty God, this miſerable Age !
What (fratragems) how fell ? how butcherly ?
Erroneous, mutinous, and unnaturall,
This deadly quarrell daily doth beget :
O Boy ! thy Father gave thee life too soon,
And hath bereft thee of thy life too late.

Ki. Woe above woe : grief, more then common grief :
O that my death would ſtay theſe ruefull deeds :
O pitty, pitty, gentle heaven, pitty.
The Red Rofe and the White are on his face,
The fatall Colours of our ſtriving Houſes :
The one his purple blood right well reſembles,
The other his pale Cheeks (me thinks) preſenteth :
Wither one Rofe, and let the other flourith :
If you contend, a thouſand lives muſt wither.

Son. How will my Mother, for a Father's death
Take on with me, and ne're be ſatifi'd ?

Fa. How will my Wife, for ſlaughter of my Son,
Shed ſeas of Teares, and ne're be ſatifi'd ?

King. How will the Country, for the wofull chances,
Mis-think

493

Mis-think the King, and not be satisfied ?

Son. Was ever Son so rew'd a Fathers death ?

Fath. Was ever Father so bemoan'd his Son ?

Hen. Was ever King so griev'd for Subjects woe ?

Much is your forrow ; mine, ten times so much.

Son. Ple bear thee hence, where I may weep my fill.

Fath. These armes of mine shall be thy winding-sheath:

My heart (sweet Boy) shall be thy Sepulcher,
For from my heart thine Image ne're shall go.

My fighting breft shall be thy Funerall bell ;

And so obsequious will thy Father be,
Men for the loffe of thee, having no more,

As Priam was for all his valiant Sons,
I'le bear thee hence, and let them fight that will,
For I have murther'd where I should not kill.

Exit.

Hen. Sad-hearted men, much over-gone with Care;
Here fits a King, more wofull then you are.

Alarums. Excursions. Enter the Queen, the Prince, and Exeter.

Prin. Fly Father, flye : for all your Friends are fled.

And Warwick rages like a chafed Bull :

Away, for death doth hold us in purfuit.

Quee. Mount you my Lord, towards Barwick, poft
amain :

Edward and Richard like a brace of Grey-hounds,

Having the fearfull flying Hare in fight,

With fiery eyes, sparkling for very wrath,

And bloody SteeleGRAFt in their irefull hands,

Are at our backs, and therefore hence amain.

Exet. Away : for vengence come along with them,

Nay, fly not to expofulate, make ſpeed,

Or ſeeme after, I'le away before.

Hen. Nay take me with thee, good sweet Exeter :

Not that I fear to fly, but love to go

Whether the Queen intends. Forward, away. Exeunt.

A loud Alarum. Enter Clifford wounded.

Cliff. Here burns my Candle out ; I, here it dies,
Which whiles it lafted, gave King Henry light.

O Lancafter ! I fear thy overthrow,

More then my Bodies parting with my Soul :

My Love and Fear gew'd many Friends to thee,

And now I fall. Thy tough Conamixtures melt,

Impairing Henry, streightning mis-proud York ;

And whether flye the Gnats, but to the Sun ?

And who ſhines now, but Henry's Enemies ?

O, Phæbus ! hadt thou never given conſent,

That Phaeton should check thy fiery Steds,

That burning Carre never had ſcorch'd the earth.

And Henry, hadt thou ſway'd as Kings should do,

Or as thy Father, and his Father did,

Giving no ground unto the H uſe of York,

They never then had ſprung like Summer Flyes :

I, and ten thousand in this luckleſſe Realm,

Had left no mourning Widows for our death,

And thou this day, hadt kept thy Chaire in peace.

For what doth cherriſh Weeds, but gentle aire ?

And what makes Robbers bold, but too mnch lenity ?

Bootleſſe are Plaints, and Cureleſſe are my VVounds ?

No way to flye, nor ſtrength to hold out flight :

The Foe is mercieſſe, and will not pitty :

For at their hands I have deferv'd no pitty.

The aire hath got into my deadly VVounds,

And much effuſe of blood doth make me faint :

Come York, and Richard, Warwick, and the reft,

I ſtabb'd your Fathers boſomes ; Split my breſt.

Alarum & Retreat. Enter Edward, Warwick, Richard, and Souldiers, Mountague, and Clarence.

Ed. Now breathe we Lords, good fortune bids us pawſe,
And ſmooth the frowns of War, with peacefull looks :

Some Troopſe purſue the bloody-minded Queen,

That led calm Henry, though he were a King,

As doth a Saile, fill'd with a fretting guſt,

Command an Argofie to ſtemme the Waves :

But think you (Lords) that Clifford fled with them?

War. No, 'tis impoffible he should eſcape :

(For though before his face I ſpeak the word)

Your Brother Richard markt him for the Grave.

And wherefoe're he is, he's ſurely dead. Clifford grones.

Rich. Whofe Soul is that which takes her heavy leave?

A deadly grone, like life and deaths departing.

See who it is.

Ed. And now the Battel's ended,

If Friend or Foe, let him be gently uſed.

Rich. Revoke that doom of mercy, for 'tis Clifford,

VWho not contented that he lopp'd the Branch

In hewing Rutland, when his leaves put forth,

But fet his murth'ring knife unto the Root,

From whence that tender ſpray didweetly ſpring,

I mean our Princely Father, Duke of York.

War. From off the gates of York ſeeth down the head,

Your Fathers head, which Clifford placed there :

In ſtead whereof, let this ſupply the room,

Meaſure for meaſure muſt be anſWERed.

Ed. Bring forth that fatall Schreech-owl to our house,

That nothing ſung but death, to us and ours :

Now death shall ſtop his diſmall threatening found,

And his ill-boading tongue, no more shall ſpeak.

War. I think his underſtanding is bereſt :

Speak Clifford, doſt thou know who ſpeaks to thee ?

Dark cloudy death o're-shades his beames of life,

And he nor ſees, nor heares us, what we ſay.

Rich. O would he did, and ſo (perhaps) he doth,

'Tis but his policy to counterfeit,

Because he would avoid ſuch bitter taunts

VVhich in the time of death he gave our Father.

Cla. If ſo thou think't, Vex him with eager words.

Rich. Clifford, aske mercy, and obtain no grace.

Ed. Clifford, repent in bootleſſe penitence.

War. Clifford, devife excufes for thy faults.

Cla. VVhile we devife fell Tortures for thy faults.

Rich. Thou didſt love York, and I am Son to York.

Edw. Thou pittied'ſt Rutland, I will pitty thee.

Cla. VVhere's Captain Margaret, to ſence you now?

War. They mock thee, Clifford, Swear as thou waſt wont.

Ric. VVhat, not an Oath ? nay the world go's hard,

VWhen Clifford cannot ſpare his friends an oath :

I know by that he's dead, and by my Soul,

If this right hand would ſuy but two hours life,

That I (in all deſpight) might rail at him,

This hand ſhould chop it off: and with the infling blood

Stifle the Villain, whole unſtanch'd thirt

York, and young Rutland, could not ſatſie.

War. I, but he's dead. Off with the Traytors head,

And rear it in the place your Fathers ſtand,

And now to London wish triumphant march,

There

495

This Ladies Husband, Sir Richard Grey, was plain,
His Land then feiz'd on by the Conqueror,
Her fuit is now, to repoffeffe thofe Lands,
Which we in Juſtice cannot well deny,
Bcaufe in Quarrell of the Houſe of York,
The worthy Gentleman did loſe his Life.

Rich. Your Highneſſe ſhall do well to grant her ſuit:
It were diſhonour to deny it her.

King. It were no leſſe, but yet I'le make a pawſe.

Rich. Yea, is it so?

I fee the Lady hath a thing to grant,

Before the King will grant her humble ſuit.

Cla. He knows the Game, how true he keeps the
wind?

Rich. Silence.

King. Widow, we will confider of your ſuit,

And come ſome other time to know our mind.

Wid. Right gracious Lord, I cannot brook delay,
May it pleate your Highneſſe to resolve me now,
And what your pleasure is, I ſhall fatisſe me.

Rich. I VVidow: then I'le warrant you all your Lands,
And if what pleafes him, I ſhall pleafe you:
Fight cloſer, or good faith you'll catch a blow.

Cla. I fear her not, unleſſe the chance to fall,

Rich. God forbid, for he'll take vantages.

King. How many Children haſt thou, VVidow ? tell
me.

Cla. I think he means to beg a Child of her.

Rich. Nay then whip me: he'll rather give her two.

Wid. Three, my moſt gracious Lord.

Rich. You ſhall have four, if you'll be rul'd by him.

King. 'Twere pitty they ſhould loſe their Fathers
Lands.

Wid. Be pitifull, dread Lord, and grant it then.

King. Lords give us leave, I'le trye this VVidow's
wit.

Rich. I, good leave have you, for you will have leave,
Till Youth take leave, and leave you to the Cruch.

King. Now tell me, Madam, do you love your
Children ?

Wid. I, full as clearly as I love my self.

King. And would you not do much to do them
good ?

Wid. To do them good, I would ſuſtain ſome
harm.

King. Then get your Husbands Lands, to do them
good.

Wid. Therefore I came unto your Majeſt.

King. Ile tell you how theſe Lands are to be got.

Wid. So ſhall you bind me to your Highneſſe ſervic[e].

King. VVhat ſervice wilt thou do me, if I give them ?

Wid. VVhat you command, that reſts in me to do,

King. But you will take exceptions to my Boon.

Wid. No, gracious Lord, except I cannot do it.

King. I, but thou canſt do what I mean to ask.

Wid. VVhy then I will do what your Grace com-
mands,

Rich. He plies her hard, and much Rain wears the
Marble,

Clar. As red as fire ? nay then, her VVax will melt.

Wid. VVhy ſtops my Lord? ſhall I not hear my
Task?

King. An eafie Task, 'tis but to love a King.

Wid. That's ſoon perform'd, becauſe I am a Subject.

King. VVhy then, thy Husbands Lands I freely give
thee.

Wid. I take my leave with many thousand thanks,

Rich. The Match is made, ſhe feals it with a Curtſe.

King. But ſay thee, 'tis the fruits of love I mean.

Wid. The fruits of Love, I mean, my loving Liege.

King. I, but I fear me in another fence.

VVhat Love, think'ft thou, I ſue ſo much to get?

Wid. My love till death, my humble thanks, my prayers,
That love which Virtue begs, and Virtue grants.

King. No, by my troth, I did not mean ſuch love.

Wid. VVhy then you mean not as I thought you did.

King. But now you partly may perceive my mind.

Wid. My mind will never grant what I perceive.

Your Highneſſe aims at, if I aim aright.

King. To tell thee plain, I aim to lie with thee.

Wid. To tell you plain, I had rather lye in Prifon.

King. VVhy then thou ſhalt not have thy Husbands
Lands.

Wid. VVhy then mine Honefy shall be my Dower,

For by that loſſe I will not purchase them.

King. Therein thou wrong'ſt thy Children mightily.

Wid. Herein your Highneſſe wrongs both them & me:

But mighty Lord, this merry inclination

Accords not with the fadneſſe of my ſuit:

Pleafe you diſmiffle me, either with I, or No.

King. I, if thou wilt ſay I to my requeſt:

No, if thou do'ſt ſay No to my demand.

Wid. Then No, my Lord: my ſuit is at an end.

Rich. The Widow likes him not, ſhe knits her
Brows.

Clarence. He is the blunſt Wooer in Chriften-
dome.

King. Her looks do argue her repleat with modeſtly,

Her words do ſhow her wit incomparable,

All her perfections challenge Soveraigncy,

One way or other, ſhe is for a King,

And ſhe ſhall be my Love, or else my Queen.

Say, that King Edward take thee for his Queen ?

Wid. 'Tis better ſaid then done, my gracious Lord:

I am a ſubject fit to jeaſt withall,

But far unſit to be a Soveraign.

King. Sweet Widow, by my State I ſwear to thee,
I ſpeak no more then what my ſoul intends,

And that is, to enjoy thee for my Love.

Wid. And that is more then I will yield uato:

I know, I am too mean to be your Queen,

And yet too good to be your Concubine,

King. You cavill, Widow, I did mean my Queen.

Wid. 'Twill grieve your Grace, my Sons should call
you Father.

King. No more, then when my Daughters

Call thee Mother.

Thou art a Widow, and thou haſt ſome Children,

And by Gods Mother, I being but a Batchelor,

Have other ſome. Why, 'tis a happy thing,

To be the Father unto many Sons :

Anſwer no more, for thou ſhalt be my Queen.

Rich. The Ghoſtly Father now hath done his Shriſt.

Cla. When he was made a Shriver, 'twas for a ſhift.

King. Brothers, you muſe what Chat we two have
had.

Richard. The VVidow likes it not, for ſhe looks
faſd.

King. You'ld think it ſtrange, if I should a ſin
her.

Cla. To whom, my Lord ?

King. VVhy Clarence, to my ſelf.

Rich.

Rich. That would be ten dayes wonder at the leaf.
Clar. That's a day longer then a Wonder lafts.
Rich. By so much is the wonder in extremes.
King. Well, jeast on Brothers I can tell you both,
Her fuit is granted for her Husbands Lands.

Enter a Noble man.

Nob. My gracious Lord, Henry your Foe is taken,
And brought your Prifoner to your Palace Gate.

King. See that he be convey'd unto the Tower :
And go we, Brothers, to the man that took him.
To queſeion of his apprehension.

Widow, go you along : Lords uſe her honourably.

Exeunt.

Manet Richard.

Rich. I, Edward will uſe Women honourably.
Would he were waſted, Marrow, Bones, and all,
That from his Loyns no hopefull Branch may spring,
To croſſe me from the Golden time I look for :
And yet, between my Souls defire, and me,
The luſtfull Edward's Title buried,
Is Clarence, Henry, and his Son young Edward,
And all the unlook'd-for Iſſue of their Bodies.
To take their Rooms, ere I can place my ſelf :
A cold premeditation for my purpofe.
Why then I do but dream on Soveraignty,
Like one that ſtands upon a Promontory,
And ſpies a far-off ſhore, where he would tread,
Withſing his foot were equal with his eye,
And chides the Sea, that funders him from thence,
Saying he'll lade it dry to have his way :
So do I with the Crown, being ſo far off,
And ſo I chide the means that keeps me from it,
And ſo (I ſay) I'le cut the Caſſes off,
Flattering me with impoffibilities :
My eye's too quick, my heart o're-weens too much,
Unleſſe my Hand and Strength could equal them.
Well, ſay there is no Kingdome then for Richard :
What other pleasure can the World affoord ?
I'le make my Heaven in a Ladies Lap,
And deck my Body in gay Ornaments,
And 'witch ſweet Ladies with my words and looks.
Oh miferable thought ! and more unlikely,
Then to accompliſh twenty Golden Crowns,
Why Love forſwore me in my Mothers Womb :
And for I should not deal in her ſoft Laws,
She did corrupt frail Nature with ſome Bribe,
To ſhrink mine Arm up like a wither'd ſhrub,
To make an envious Mountain on my back,
Where ſits Deformity to mock my body :
To ſhape my Legs of an unequall ſize,
To diſproportion me in every part :
Like to a Chaos, or unlick'd Bear-whelp,
That carries, no impreſſion like the Damme.
And am I then a man to be belov'd ?
Oh monſtrous fault, to harbour ſuch a thought.
Then ſince this Earth affoords no Joy to me,
But to command, to check, to o're-bear ſuch,
As are of better Perſon then my ſelf :
I'lemake my Heaven, to dream upon the Crown,
And whiles I live, t'account this world but Hell,
Uncill this mis-flap'd Trunk that bears this Head,
Be round impaled with a glorious Crown.
And yet I know not how to get the Crown,
For many Lives ſtand between me and home :

And I, like one loft in a thorny Wood,
That reats the thorns, and is rent with the thorns,
Seeking a way, and straying from the way,
Not knowing how to find the open aire,
But toyling desperately to find it out,
Torrent my ſelf to catch the English Crown :
And from that torment I will free my ſelf,
Or hew my way out with a bloody Axe.
Why I can ſmile, and murther whiles I ſmile,
And cry, Content, to that which grieves my heart,
And wet my Checks with artificial tears,
And frame my face to all occasions.
I'le drown more Sailors then the Mermaid ſhall,
I'le ſlay more gazers then the Bafilsk,
I'le play the Orator as well as Neſtor,
Deceive more fly then Wliffes could,
And like a Sinon, take another Troy.
I can add ſe Colours to the Camelion,
Change ſhapes with Proteus, for advantages,
And fet the murtherous Machevill to School.
Can I do this, and cannot get a Crown ?
Tut, were it farther off, I'le pluck it down.

Exit.

Flourish.
Enter Lewis the King, his Sifter Bona, his Admi-
rall, call'd Bourbon, Prince Edward, Queen
Margaret, and the Earl of Oxford. Lewis
fits, and risteth up again.

Lewis. Fair Queen of England, worthy Margaret,
Sit down with us : it ill beſits thy State,
And Birth, that thou should'ſt ſtand, while Lewis doth ſit.
Mar. No, mighty King of France : now Margaret,
Muſt ſtike her ſail, and learn a while to ſerve,
Where Kings command. I was (I muſt conſeſſe)
Great Albion's Queen, in Golden dayes :
But now miſchance hath trod my Title down,
And with diſhonour laid me on the ground,
Where I muſt take like ſeat unto my fortune,
And to my humble ſeat conform my ſelf.

Lewis. Why ſay, fair Queen, whence ſprings this
deep deſpair?

Mar. From ſuch a cauſe, as ſills mine eyes with tears,
And ſtops my tongue, while heart is drown'd in cares,
Lew. What ere it be, be thou ſtill like thy ſelf,
And fit thee by our ſide.
Yield not thy neck to Fortunes yoak,
But let thy dauntleſſe mind ſtill ride in triumph,
Over all miſchance.
Be plain, Queen Margaret, and tell thy grief,
It ſhall be eas'd, if France can yield relief.

Seats her by him.

Mar. Thoſe gracious words
Revive my drooping thoughts,
And give my tongue-ty'd forrowes leave to ſpeak.
Now therefore be it known to Noble Lewis,
That Henry, ſole poſſeffor of my Love,
Is, of a King, become a banifht man,
And fore'd to live in Scotland a Forlorne,
While proud ambitious Edward, Duke of York,
Uſurps the Regal Title, and the Seat
Of Englands true anointed lawful King.
This is the cauſe that I, poor Margaret,
VWith this my Son Prince Edwards, Henry's Heir,
Am come to crave thy juſt and lawſull aid :
And if thou fail us, all our hope is done.
Scotland hath Will to help, but cannot help:

Our

Our people, and our Peers, are both mis-led,
Our Treasure feiz't, our Souldiers put to flight,
And (as thou feet) our Selves in heavy plight.

Lew. Renowned Queen,
With patience calme the Storme,
While we bethink a means to break it off.

Marg. The more we stay, the stronger growes our
Foe.

Lew. The more I stay, the more I'le succour thee.

Marg. O, but impatience waiteth on true forrow.
And see where comes the breeder of my forrow.

Enter Warwick.

Lew. What's he approacheth boldly to our prefence?

Marg. Our Earle of Warwick, Edwards greatest
friend.

Lew. Welcome brave Warwick, what brings thee
to France ?

He defcends. She arifeth.

Marg. I, now begins a second Storm to rife,
For this is he that moves both Wind and Tyde.

War. From worthy Edward, King of Albion,
My Lord and Soveraign, and thy vowed Friend,
I come (in Kindneſſe, and unfeined Love)
Fift, to do greetings to thy Royall Perſon,
And then to crave a League of Amity :
And laſtly, to confirm that Amity
With Nuptiall Knot, if thou vouchſafe to grant
That vertuous Lady Bona, thy fair Sifter,
To Englands King in lawfull Marriage.

Marg. If that go forward, Henries hope is done.

War. And gracious Madam, Speaking to Bona.
In our Kings behalſ,

I am commanded, with your leave and favour,
Humbly to kiffe your Hand, and with my Tongue
To tell the paffion of my Soveraigns Heart;
Where Fame, late envying at his heedfull Ears,
Hath plac'd thy beauties Image, and thy Vertue.

Marg. King Lewis, and Lady Bona, hear me speak,
Before you anſwer Warwick. His demand
Springs not from Edwards well-meant honeſt Love,
But from Deceit, bred by Necessity:

For how can Tyrants safely govern home,
Unleſſe abroad they purchase great allyance?
To prove him Tyrant, this reaſon may ſuffice,
That Henry liveth ſtill: but were he dead,
Yet here Prince Edward ſtands, King Henries Son.

Look therefore Lewis, that by this League and Marriage
Thou draw not on thy Danger, and Dif-honor:
For though ſtumpers ſway the rule a while,
Yet Heavens are juſt, and Time ſupprefſeth Wrongs.

War. Injurious Margaret.
Edw. And why not Queen ?
War. Because thy father Henry did uſupr,
And thou no more art Prince, then he is Queen.

Oſ. Then Warwick diſanulls great Jhon of Gaunt,
Which did ſubdue the greateſt part of Spain;
And after John of Gaunt, Henry the Fourth,
Whoſe Wifdome was a Mirror to the wifet :
And after that wife Prince, Henry the Fifth,
Who by his Proweſſe conquered all France:
From theſe our Henry lineally deſcends.

War. Oxford, how haps it in this ſmooth diſeourſe,
You told not, how Henry the Sixth hath loft
All that, which Henry the Fifth had gotten;

Me thinks theſe Peers of France ſhould smile at that,
But for the reſt: you tell a Pedigree
Of three ſcore and two years, a filly time.
To make preſcription for a Kingdomes worth.

Oſ. Why Warwick, can't thou ſpeak againſt my Liege
Whom thou obeyd't thirty and fix years,
And not bewray thy Treaſon with a bluſh ?

War. Can Oxford, that did ever ſence the right,
Now buckler falsehood with a Pedigree ?

For ſhame leave Henry, and call Edward King.

Oſ. Call him my King, by whose injurious doom
My elder Brother, the Lord Aubrey Vere

Was done to death ? and more then ſo, my Father,
Even in the down-fall of his mellow'd years,
When Nature brought him to the door of death ;

No Warwick, no: while Life upholds this Arme,
This Arme upholds the Houſe of Lancaſter.

War. And I the houſe of York.

Lew. Queen Margaret, Prince Edward, and Oxford
Vouchſafe at our requeſt, to ſtand afide,
While I uſe further conference with Warwick.

They ſtand aloofe.

Mar. Heavens grant, that Warwicks words bewitch
him nor.

Lew. Now Warwick, tell me even upon thy conſeience
Is Edward your true King? for I were loth
To link with him, that were not lawfull chofen.

Warw. Thereon I pawn my Credit, and mine Hounour.

Lew. But is he gracious in the peoples eyes?

War. The more, that Henry was unfortunate.

Lew. Then further: all diſſembling ſet afide,
Tell me for truth, the meaſure of his love,
Unto our Sifter Bona.

War. Such it ſeems,
As may befeem a Monarch like himſelf,

My ſelf have often heard him ſay, and ſwear,
That this his Love was an external Plant,
Whereof the Root was fix'd in Vertues ground,

The Leaves and Fruit maintain'd with Beauties Sun,
Exempt from Envy, but not from Difdain,
Unleſſe the Lady Bona quit his pain,

Lew. Now Sifter, let us hear your firm reſolve.

Bona. Your grant, or your deny, ſhall be mine,
Yet I conſeſſe, that often ere this day,
Speaks to War.

When I have heard your Kings deſeſt recounted,
Mine ear hath tempted judgement to deſire.

Lew. Then Warwick, this:
Our Sifter ſhall be Edwards.

And now forthwith ſhall Articles be drawn,
Touching the Joynture that your King muſt make,
Which with her Dowry ſhall be counterpoys'd :

Draw near, Queen Margaret, and be a witneſſe,
That Bona ſhall be Wife to the English King.

Prin. Edw. To Edwards, but not to the English King.
Marg. Deceitfull Warwick, it was thy device,
By this alliance to make void my ſuit;

Before thy coming, Lewis was Henries friend.
Lew. And till is friend to him, and Margaret,

But if your Title to the Crown be weak,
As may appear by Edwards good ſucceſſe.

Then 'tis but reaſon, that I be releas'd
From giving aid, which late I promiſed.

Yet ſhall you have all kindneſſe at my hand,
That your eſtate requires, and mine can yield.

War. Henry now lives in Scotland, at his eafe;

...T c... - Where

498

Where having nothing, nothing can he lose,
And as for yon your self (our quondam Queen)
You have a Father able to maintain you,
And better were, yon troubled him, then France.

Mar. Peace impudent, and fhameleſs Warwick, peace,
Proud fetter up, and puller down of Kings,
I will not hince, till with my Talk and Tears
(Both full of Truth) I make King Lewis behold
Thy flye conveyance, and thy Lords falſe love.

Poſt blowing a horn within.

For both of you are Birds of self-lame Feather.

Lew. Warwick, this is ſome Poſt to us, or thee.

Enter a Poſt.

Poſt. My Lord Ambaſſador,

Theſe Letters are for you. Speaks to Warwick,
Sent from your Brother Marquſe Mountague.
Theſe from our King, unto your Majeſt. To Lewis.
And Madam, theſe for you, To Margaret.
From whom, I know not.

They all read their Letters.

Oſ. I like it well, that our fair Queen and Miftris
Smiles at her news, while Warwick frowns at his.

Prin. Edw. Nay mark how Lewis ſtamps as he were
netled. I hope, all's for the beſt.

Lew. Warwick, what are thy News?

And yours, fair Queen?

Mar. Mine ſuch, as fill my heart with unhop'd joyes.

War. Mine full of forrow, and hearts diſcontent.

Lew. What? has your King Married the Lady Grey?

And now to tooth your Forgery, and his,

Sends me a Paper to perſwade me Patience ?

In th'Alliance that he feeks with France?

Dare he prefume, to ſcorn us in this manner ?

Mar. I told your Majeſt as much before :

This proveth Edwards Love, and Warwick's honeſty.

War. King Lewis, I here proteſt in fight of heaven,
And by the hope I have of heavenly blifſe,
That I am clear from this miſdeed of Edwards;

No more my King, for he diſhonors me,

But moſt himself, if he could fee his ſhame.

Did I forget, that by the houſe of Tork,

My father came untimely to his death ?

Did I let paffe th'abuſe done to my Niece ?

Did I impale him with the Regal Crown ?

Did I put Henry from his Native Right?

And am I guerdon'd at the laſt, with Shame?

Shame on himſelf, for my Deſert is Honor.

And to repair my Honor loft for him,

I here renounce him, and return to Henry.

My Noble Queen, let former grudges paffe,

And henceforth, I am thy true Servitour :

I will revenge his wrong to Lady Bona,

And replant Henry in his former ſtate.

Mar. Warwick,

Theſe words have turn'd my Hatels to Love,

And I forgive, and quite forget old faults,

And joy that thou becom'd King Henries Friend.

War. So much his Friend, I, his unfeigned Friend,
That if King Lewis vouchſaſe to furniſh us

With ſome few Bands of chofen Souldiers,

I'le undertake to land them on our Coast,

And force the Tyrant from his ſeat by War.

'Tis not his new-made Bride ſhall fuccour him,

And as for Clarence, as my Letters tell me,

He's very likely now to fall from him,

For matching more for wanton Luft, then Honor,

Or then for ſtrength and ſafety of our Countrey.

Bona. Dear brother, how ſhall Bona be reveng'd,
But by thy help to this diſtrefſed Queen?

Mar. Renowned Prince, how ſhall Poor Henry live,
Undefle thou reſcue him from ſoul deſpair?

Bona. My quarrel, and this English Queens, are one.

War. And mine fair Lady Bona, joyns with yours.

Lew. And mine, with hers, and thine, and Margarets,
Therefore at laſt, I firmly am reſolv'd

You ſhall have aid.

Mar. Let me give humble thanks for all, at once.

Lew. Then Englands Meſſenger, return in Poſt,

And tell falſe Edward, thy ſuppofed King,

That Lewis of France, is ſending over Maskers

To revel it with him, and his new Bride,

Thou feeſt what's paſt, go fear thy King withall,

Bona. Tell him, in hope he'll prove a widower ſhorsly;
I wear the Willow Garland for his ſake.

Mar. Tell him, my mourning weeds are laid aſide,
And I am ready to put Armors on.

War. Tell him from me, that he hath done me wrong,
And therefore I'le un-Crown him, or't be long.

There's thy reward to be gone.

Lew. But Warwick,

Thou and Oxford, with ſive thousand'd men

Shall croſſe the Seas, and bid falſe Edward battell :

And as occafion ſerves, this Noble Queen

And Prince, ſhall follow with a fresh ſupply,

Yet ere thou go, but anſwer me one doubt:

What Pledge have we of thy firm Loyalty?

War. This ſhall affure my conſtant Loyalty,
That if our Queen, and this young Prince agree,
I'le joyn my eldeſt daughter, and my Joy,
To him forthwith, in holy Wedlock bands.

Mar. Yes, I agree, and thank you for your Motion.

Son Edward, he is Fair and Vertuous,

Therefore delay not, give thy hand to Warwick,

And with thy hand, thy faith irrevocable,

That onely Warwick's daughter ſhall be thine.

Prin. Ed. Yes, I accept her, for the well deſerves it,
And here to pledge my Vow, I give my hand.

He gives his hand to Warwick.

Lew. Why ſtay we now? theſe ſouldiers ſhall be levied,

And thou Lord Bourbon, our High Admirall

Shalt waſt them over with our Royal Fleet,

I long till Edward fall by Warrs miſchance,

For mocking Marriage with a Dame of France.

Exeunt.

Manet Warwick.

War. I came from Edward as Ambaſſador,

But I return his ſworn and mortal Foe :

Matters of Marriage was the charge he gave me,

But dreadfull War ſhall anſwer his demand.

Had he none eſle to make a ſtale but me ?

Then none but I, ſhall turn his Jef't to Sorrow,

I was the Chief that rais'd him to the Crown,

And I'le be Chief to bring him down again :

Not that I pity H earies miſery,

But ſeek Revenge on Edwards mockery..

Exit.

Enter Richard, Clarence, Somerſet and Mountague.

Rich. Now tell me Brother Clarence, what think you
Of this new made Marriage with the Lady Gray?

Hath not our Brother made a worthy choyce ?

Clar. Alas, you know, 'tis far from hence to France,
How

500

Now Brother King farewell, and fit you faft,
For I will hence to *Warwicks* other Daughter,
That though I want a Kingdome, yet in Marriage
I may not prove inferior to your self.
You that love me, and *Warwick*, follow me.

*Exit Clarence, and Somerset follows.*

Rich. Not I:

My thoughts aim at a further matter:
I fay not for the love of *Edward*, but the Crown.

King. *Clarence and Somerset both gone to Warwick?*

Yet I am arm'd against the worft can happen:

And haſſe is needfull in this deſp'rate case,
*Pembrook and Stafford, you in our behalf.*

Go levy men, and make prepare for War;

They are already, or quickly will be landed:

My self in perſon will ſtraight follow you.

*Exit Pembrook and Stafford.*

But ere I go, *Haſtings and Mountague*.

Reſolve my doubt: you twain of all the reſt,

Are near to *Warwick*, by cloud, and by allyance:

Tell me, if you love *Warwick* more then me;

If it be ſo, then both depart to him:

I rather with you fœs, then hollow friends.

But, if you mind to hold your true obedience,

Give me affurance with ſome friendly Vow,
That I may never have you in ſupſpect.

*Mountague, so God help Mountague, as he proves true.*

Haſt. And *Haſtings*, as he favours *Edwards* caſe.

King. Now, brother *Richard*, will you ſtand by us?

Rich. I, in deſpight of all that ſhall withſtand you.

King. Why ſo: then am I ſure of Victory.

Now therefore let us hence, and toſe no hour,

Till we meet *Warwick*, with his forſrain power.

*Exeunt.*

*Enter Warwick, and Oxford in England, with French Souldiers.*

*Warw.* Truſt me, my Lord, all hitherto goes well,
The common people by numbers ſwarme to us.

*Enter Clarence and Somerſet.*

But ſee where *Somerſet and Clarence* comes:

Speak ſuddenly, my Lords, are we all friends?

Clar. Fear not that, my Lord.

*War.* Then gentle *Clarence*, welcome unto *Warwick*,
And welcome *Somerſet*: I hold it cowardize,

To reſt miſtruſtfull, where a Noble Heart

Hath pawn'd an open Hand, in ſign of Love:

Elſe might I think, that *Clarence, Edwards* brother,

Were but a ſained friend to our proceedings:

But welcome ſweet *Clarence*, my daughter ſhall be thine.

And now, what reſts? but in Nights Coverture,

Thy Brother being careſſely encamp'd,

His Souldiers lurking in the town about,

And but attended by a ſimple Guard,

We may ſurprize and take him at our pleasure,

Our Scouts have found the adventure very eafie :

That as *Ulyſes*, and *ſout Diomede*,

With ſleight and manhood ſrole to *Rhefu* Tents,
And brought from thence the *Thracian* ſatall Steeds;

So we, well cover'd with the Nights black Mantle,

At unawares may beat down *Edwards* Guard,

And ſeize himſelf: I fay not, ſlaughter him,

For I intend but only to ſurprize him.

You that will follow me to this attempt,

Applaud the Name of *Henry*, with your Leader.

*They all cry Henry.*

Why then, let's on our way in ſilent ſort,

For *Warwick* and his friends, God and Saint George.

*Exeunt.*

*Enter the Watchmen to guard the Kings Tent.*

1. *Watch.* Come on my Maſters, each man take his ſtand,
The King by this, is fet him down to ſleep.

2. *Watch.* What, will he not to Bed?

1. *Watch.* Why, no: for he hath made a ſolemn Vow,
Never to lie and take his natural Reſt,

*Till Warwick, or himſelf, be quite ſuppreſſt.*

2. *Watch.* To morrow then, belike ſhall be the day,
If *Warwick* be so near as men report.

3. *Watch.* But ſay, I pray, what Noble man is that,
That with the King here reſſeth in his Tent?

1. *Watch.* 'Tis the Lord *Haſtings*, the Kings chiefef
friend.

3. *Watch.* O, is it ſo? but why commands the Kings,
That his chief followers lodge in Towns about him,
While he himſelf keeps in the cold field?

2. *Watch.* 'Tis the more honor, becauſe the more dangerous.

3. *Watch.* I, but give me worſhip, and quietneſſe,
I like it better then a dangerous honor.

*If Warwick* knew in what eſtate he ſtands,

'Tis to be doubted he would waken him.

1. *Watch.* Unleſſe our Halberds did ſlut up his paf-
fage.

2. *Watch.* I: wherefore eſſe guard we this Royal Tent,
But to defend his Perſon from Night-foes?

*Enter Warwick, Clarence, Oxford, Somerſet, and French Souldiers, ſilent all.*

*War.* This is his Tent, and ſee where ſtands his Guard:
Courage my Maſters: Honor now or never:
But follow me, and *Edward* shall be ours.

1. *Watch.* Who goes there?

2. *Watch.* Stay or thou dyeft.

*Warwick and the reſt cry all, Warwick, Warwick,*

and ſet upon the Guard, who flye, crying, *Arme, Arm*,

*Warwick and the reſt following them.*

*The Drum playing, and Trumpet ſounding,
Enter *Warwick, Somerſet, and the reſt, bringing the
King out in a gown, fitting in a Chair : Richard
and Haſtings flyes over the Stage.*

*Som.* What are they that flye there?

*Warw. Richard and Haſtings, let them go, here is
the Duke.*

*King Edw.* The Duke?

Why *Warwick*, when we parted,

Thou call'd me King.

*Warw.* I, but the caſe is alter'd.

When you diſgrace'd me in my Embaſſade,

Then I degraded you from being King,

And come now to create you Duke of *Yor*,

Alas how ſhould you govern any Kingdome,

That know not how to uſe Embaſſadors,

Nor how to be contented with one Wife,

Nor how to uſe your Brothers brotherly,

Nor how to ſtudy for the Peoples Welfare,

Nor how to ſhrowd your ſelf from Enemies?

*King Edw.*

501

K. Edw. Yea, Brother of Clarence,
Art thou here too?
Nay then I see, that Edward needs must down,
Yet Warwick, in defpight of all mischance,
Of thee thy self, and all thy Complices,
Edward will always bear himself as King:
Though Fortunes malice overthrow my State,
My mind exceeds the compasse of her Wheel,
War; Then for his mind, be Edward Englands King.

Takes off his Crown.

But Henry now shall wear the English Crown,
And be true King indeed : thou but a shadow.
My Lord of Somerset, at my request,
See that forthwith Duke Edward be convey'd
Unto my Brother Arch-Bishop of York:
When I have fought with Pembrook, and his fellows,
I'll follow you, and tell what answer
Lewis and the Lady Bona tend to him.
Now for a while farewell good Duke of Tork.

They lead him out forcibly.

K. Ed. What Fates impede, that men must needs abide:
It boots not to refight both wind and tide.
Exeunt.

Oxf. What now remains my Lords for us to do,
But march to London with our Souldiers?

War. I, that's the first thing that we have to do,
To free King Henry from imprisonment,
And see him feasted in the Regal Throne.

Exit.

Enter Rivers, and the Lady Gray.

Riv. Madam, what makes you in this sudden change?

Gray. Why Brother Rivers, are you yet to learn
What late misfortune is befain King Edward?

Riv. What? loſſe of fome pitcht battell

Against Warwick?

Gra. No, but the loſſe of his own Royal perſon.

Riv. Then is my Soveraign flain ?

Gray. I almost flain, for he is taken prifoner,

Either betrayed by falſhood of his Guard,

Or by his Foe prizſur'd at unawares:

And as I further have to underſtand.

I new committed to the Bishop of York,

Fell Warwick's brother, and by that our Foe.

Riv. Thele News I muſt conſeſſe are full of grief,
Yet gracieus Madam, bear it as you may,
Warwick may loofe, that now hath won the day.

Gray. Till then, fair hope muſt hinder lives decay.

And I the rather wain me from defpair

For love of Edwards Off-spring in my womb:

This is it that makes me bridle my paffion,

And bear with Mildneſſe my misfortunes croſſe:

I, I, for this I draw in many a tear,

And top the riling of bloud-fucking fighes,

Leaſt with my ſighes or tears, I blaſt or drown

King Edwards Fruit, true heir to th' English Crown.

Riv. But Madam,

Where is Warwick then become ?

Gray. I am inform'd that he comes towards London,
To fet the Crown once more on Henries head:
Gueſſe thou the reſt, King Edwards friend muſt down.

But to prevent the Tyrants violence,

(Fortuit not him that hath once broken faith)

I le hence forthwith unto the Sanctuary,

To ſave (at least) the heir of Edwards right:
There shall I reſt fecure from force and fraud:
Come therefore let us flye, while we may flye,
If Warwick take us, we are ſure to dye.

Exeunt.

Enter Richard, Lord Haſtings, and Sir William Stanley.

Rich. Now my Lord Haſtings, and Sir Will. Stanley
Leave off to wonder why I drew you hither,
Into this chiefest Thicket of the Park.
Thus stands the cafe: you know our King, my Brother,
Is prifoner to the Bifhop here, at whose hands
He hath good usage, and great liberty,
And often but attended with weak guard,
Comes hunting this way to diſport himself.
I have advertis'd him by ſecreſt means,
That if about this hour he make this way,
Under the colour of his usual game,
He shall here find his friends with Horſe and Men,
To fet him free from his Captivity.

Enter King Edward, and a Hauſtman with him.

Hunt. This way my Lord,

For this way lies the Game.

King Edw. Nay this way man,

See where the Hauſtman stand.

Now brother of Gloſter, Lord Haſtings, and the reſt,
Stand you thus cloſe to meate the Bifhops Deer?

Rich. Brother, the time and cafe, requireth haſt,

Your horſe stands ready at the Park-corner,

King Edw. But whither shall we then?

Haſt. To Lyn my Lord,

And ship from thence to Flanders.

Rich. Well gueſt believe me, for that was my meaning.

King. Edw. Stanley, I will require thy forwardneſſe.

Rich. But wherefore ſtay we ? 'tis no time to talk.

King Edw. Huntſman, what sayſt thou?

Wilt thou go along ?

Hunt. Better do so, then tarry and be hang'd,

Rich. Come then away, let's ha no more ado.

King Edw. Bifhop farewell,

Shield thee from Warwicks frown,
And pray that I may re-poffeſſe the Crown.

Exeunt.

Enter King Henry the sixth, Clarence, Warwick,
Somerset, young Henry, Oxford, Mountague,
and Lieutenant.

King Hen. M. Lieutenant, now that God and Friends
Have taken Edward from the Regal ſeat,

And turn'd my captive ſtate to liberty,

My fear to hope, my forrows unto joyes,

At our enlargement what are thy due Fees ?

Lieu. Subjects may challenge nothing of their Sov'rains
But, if an humble prayer may prevail,
I then crave pardon of your Majesty.

King Hen. For what Lieutenant ? For well uſing me ?

Nay, be thou ſure, I'le well require thy kindneſſe:

For that it made my imprisonment, a pleafure :

I, ſuch a pleafure, as incensed Birds

Conceive; when after many moody Thoughts,

At laſt, by Notes of Houſhold harmony,

They quite forget their loſſe of liberty.

T t 3

But

But Warwick, after God, thouفت me free,
And ch efly therefore, I thank God, and thee,
He was the Author, thou the instrument.
Therefore that I may conquer Fortunes spight,
By living low, where Fortune cannot hurt me,
And that the people of this bleffed Land
May not be punifh'd with my thwarting flarrs,
Warwick, although my head full wear the Crown,
I here refign my Government to thee,
For thou art fortunate in all thy deeds.

War. Your Grace hath full been fam'd for vertuous,
And now may seem as wife as vertuous,
By spying and avoiding Fortunes malice,
For few men rightly temper with the Starrs:
Yet in this one thing let me blame your Grace,
For chufing me, when Clarence is in place.

Clar. No Warwick, thou art worthy of the fway,
To whom the Heavens in thy Nativity,
Adjud'd an Olive Branch, and Lawrell Crown,
As likely to be bleft in Peace and War :
And therefore I yield thee my free confent.

War. And I choofe Clarence only for Protec tor.

King Warwick and Clarence, give me both your hands.
Now joyn your hands, and with your hands your hearts,
That no diffention hinder Government :
I make you both Protec tors of this Land,
While I my self will lead a private Life,
And in devotion fpend my latter dayes,
To fins rebuke, and my Creators prafie.

Warw. What answers Clarence to his Soveraignes
will ?

Cla. That he confents, if Warwick yield confent?
For on thy fortune I repofe my self.

Warm. Why then, though loth, yet muft I be content:
We'll yoak together, like a double shadow
To Henries Body, andSUPh300D his place;
I mean, in bearing weight of Government,
While he enjokes the honor, and his cafe.
And Clarence, now then is it more then needfull,
Forthwith that Edward be pronounc'd a Traitor,
And all his Lands and Goods confecated.

Clar. What elfe ? and that Succeffion be determined.

War. I, therein Clarence shall not want his part.

King. But with the finſt, of all your chief affairs,

Let me intreat (for I command no more)
That Margaret your Queen, and my Son Edward,
Be ſent for, to return from France with ſpeed :
For till I fee them here, by doubtfull fear,
My joy of liberty is half eclipſ'd.

Clar. It ſhall be done, my Soveraign, with all ſpeed.

King. My Lord of Somerſet, what youth is that?

Of whom you seem to have ſo tender care ?

Somer. My Liege, it is young Henry, Earle of Riche-
mond.

King. Come hither, Englands Hope:

Layes his Hand on his Head

If secret Powers ſuggeſt but truth
To my divining thoughts,
This pretty Lad will prove our Countries blifs,
His looks are full of peacefull Majeity,
His head by nature fram'd to wear a Crown,
His hand to wield a Scepter, and himself
Likely in time to bledle a Regal Throne :
Make much of him, my Lords; for this is he
Must help you more, then you are hurt by me.

Enter a Poſt.

Warw. What news, my friend ?

Poſt. That Edward is eſcaped from your brother,
And ſled (as he hears ſince) to Burgundy.

Warw. Unſavory news: but how made he eſcape ?

Poſt. He was convey'd by Richard, Duke of Gloſter,
And the Lord Hastings, who attended him
In ſecret amb ſh, on the Forreſt ſide,

And from the Bishop's Hinter ſt, reſeu'd him:
For Hunting was his daily Exercife.

War. My Brother was too careſſe of his charge,
But let us hence, my Soveraign, to provide
A ſalve for any ſore, that may betide.

Exeunt

Manet Somerſet, Richmond, and Oxford.

Sor. My Lord, I like not of this flight of Edwards:
For doubleſe, Burgundy will yield him help,
And we ſhall have more Warrs beſot not long.
As Henries late prefaging Prophecy

Did glad my heart, with hope of this young Richmond:
So doth my heart miſ-give me, in theſe Conflicts
What may beſt him, to his harme and ours.
Therefore, Lord Oxford, to prevent the worſt,
Forthwith we'll ſend him hence to Brittany,
Till ſtormes be paſt of Civill Enmity.

Oſ. I: for if Edward re-poffeſe the Crown,
Tis like that Richmond, with the reſt, ſhall down.

Sons. It ſhall be ſo: he ſhall to Brittany.
Come therefore, let's about it ſpeedily.

Exeunt.

Euter Edward, Richard, Haſſings
and Souldiers,

Edw. Now brother Richard, Lord Haſſings and the
Yet thus far Fortune maketh us amends,
And ſayes, that once more I ſhall enterchange

My wained ſtate, for Henries Regal Crown.

Well have we paſ'd, and now re-paſ'd the Seas,
And brought defined help from Burgundy.

What then remains, we being thus arriv'd
From Ravenſpurgh Haven, before the Gates of York,
But that we enter, as into our Dukedom ?

Rich. The Gates made ſaſt ?
Brother, I like not this.

For many men that ſtumble at the Threshold,
Are well fore-told, that danger lurks within.

Edw. Tuſh man, aboadments muſt not now affright us:
By fair or foul means we muſt enter in,

For hither will our friends repair to us.

Haſt. My Liege, Ile knock once more, to ſummon
them.

Enter on the Walls, the Mayor of York,
and his Brethren.

Mayor. My Lords,

We were fore-warned of your comming,
And flut the Gates, for ſafety of our ſelves;
For now we owe al Seguance unto Henry.

Edw. But, Maſter Mayor, if Henry be your King,
Yet Edward, at the leaſt, is Duke of York.

Mayor. True, my good Lord, I know you for no
leſſe.

Edw. Why, and I challenge nothing but my Dukedom,
As being well content with that alone.

Rich.

503

Rich. But when the Fox hath once got in his Nofe,
He'll foon find means to make the Body follow.

Haſt. Why, Mafter Mayor, why fand you in a doubt?
Open the Gates, we are King Henries friends.

Mayor. I, lay you, fo? the Gates shall then be opened.
He defends.

Rich. A wife, flout Captain, and foon perfwaded.

Haſt. The good old man would fain that all were well.
So were not long of him: but being entred,
I doubt not I, but we shall foon be twade.
Both him, and all his Brothers, unto reason.

Enter the Mayor, and two Aldermen.

Edw. So, Mafter Mayor: thefe Gates muſt not be flut,
But in the Night, or in the time of War.
What, fear not man, but yield me up the Keys,

Takes his Keys.

For Edward will defend the Town, and thee,
And all those friends, that deign to follow me.

March. Enter Mountgomery, with Drum and Souldiers.

Rich. Brother, this is Sir John Mountgomery.
Our truſtful friend, unleſſe I be deceiv'd.

Edward. Welcome Sir John : but why come you in
Armes?

Mount. To help King Edward in his time of ſtorm,
As every loyal Subjeaf ought to do.

Edw. Thanks good Mountgomery.

But we now forget the title to the Crown,
And onely claim our Dukedome,
Till God please to ſend the reſt.

Mount. Then fare you well, for I will hence again,
I came to ſerve a King, and not a Duke:
Drummer ſtrike up, and let us march away.

The Drum begins to Maveh.

Edw. Nay, ſlay, Sir John, a while, and we'll debate
By what ſafe means the Crown may be recover'd.

Mount. What talk you of debating? in few words,
If you'll not here proclaim your ſelf our King,
I'll leave you to your fortune, and be gone,
To keep them back, that come to ſuccur you.
Why (shall we fight, if you pretend no Title?

Rich. Why Brother, wherefore ſtand you on, nice
points?

Edw. When we grow ſtronger,
Then we'll make our Claim:

Till then, 'tis wifdome to conceal our meaning.

Haſt. Away with ſerpulous Wit, now Armes muſt
rule.

Rich. And fearleſs minds climb ſooneſt unto Crowns.
Brother, we will proclaim you out of hand,

The bruit thereof will bring you many friends,
Edw. Then be it as you will: for 'tis my right,
And Henry but urſups the Diadem.

Mount. I, now my Soveraign ſpeaketh like himſelf,
And now will I be Edwards Champion.

Haſt. Sound Trumpet, Edward shall be here proclaim'd:
Come, fellow Souldier, make thou Proclamation.

Flourish.

Sound.

Soul. Edward the Fourth, by the Grace of God, King
of England and France, and Lord of Ireland, &c.

Mount. And whoſoe're gainſayes King Edwards right,
By this I challenge him to ſingle fight.

Throws down his Gantlet.

All. Long live Edward the Fourth.

Edw. Thanks brave Mountgomery.

And thanks unto you all:

If fortune ſerve me, I'le requite this kindneſſe.

Now for this Night, let's harbor here in York:

And when the Morning Sun shall raſe his Car

Above the Border of this Horizon,

We'll forward towards Warwick, and his Mates ;

For well I wot, that Henry is no Souldier,

Ah froward Clarence, how evill it beſeemſt thee,

To flatter Henry, and forſake thy Brother?

Yet as we may, we'll meet both thee and Warwick,

Come on brave Souldiers: doubt not of the Day,

And that once gotten, doubt not of large Pay. Exeunt.

Enter the King, Warwick, Mountague, Clarence,
Oxford, and Somerſet.

War. What counſell, Lords? Edward from Belanja,

With haſtly Germanes, and blunt Hollanders.

Hath paſ'd in ſafetät through the Narrow Seas,

And with his troups doth march amain to London,

And many giddy people flock to him,

King. Let's levy men, and beat him back again,

Clar. A little fire is quickly trodden out,

Which being ſuffer'd, Rivers cannot quench.

War. In Warwickshire I have true-hearted friends,
Not mutinous in Peace, yet bold in War,

Thofe will I muſter up: and thou Son Clarence

Shalt ſtir up in Suffolk, Norfolk, and in Kent,

The Knights and Gentlemen, to come with thee.

Thou brother Mountague, and Buckingham,

Northampton, and in Leicestershire ſhalt find.

Men well inclin'd to hear what thou command'st

And thou, brave Oxford, wondrous well beloved,

In Oxfordshire ſhalt muſter up thy friends.

My Soveraign, with the loving Citizens,

Like to his Inland, girt with the Ocean,

Or modeſt Dyan, circled with her Nymphs;

Shall reſt in London, till we come to him:

Fair Lords take leave, and ſtand not to reply.

Farewell my Soveraign.

King. Farewell my Heſſor, and my Troyes true hope.

Clar. In ſign of truth, I kiffe your Highneſſe hand.

King. Well-minded Clarence, be thou fortunate.

Mount. Comfort, my Lord, and fo I take my leave.

Oſx. And thus I feel my truth, and bid adieu.

King. Sweet Oxford, and my loving Mountague,

And all at once, once more a happy farewell.

War. Farewell, ſweet Lords, let's meet at Coventry.

Exeunt.

King. Here at the Pallace will I reſt a while,

Couſin of Exeter, what thinks your Lordſhip?

Me thinks, the Power that Edward hath in field,
Should not be able to encounter mine.

Exet. The doubt is, that he will ſeduce the reſt.

King. That's not my fear, my meed hath got me fame:

I have not ſlopt mine ears to their demands,

Nor poſted of their ſuits with flow delays,

My pitty haſt been balm to heat their wounds,

My mildneſſe bath allay'd their ſwelling griefs,

My mercy dry'd their water-flowing tears.

I have not been defirous of their wealth,

Nor much oppreſſ them with great ſubſidies,

Nor forward of revenge, though they much err'd.

Then why ſhould they love Edward more then me?

No Exeter these Graces challenge Grace:

And

504

And when the Lion fawns upon the Lamb,
The Lamb will never cease to follow him,
Shout within, *A Lancafter, A Lancafter.*
Exe. Hearn, heark, my Lord, what Shouts are these?

*Enter Edward and his Souldiers.*

Edw. Seize on the flameafed Henry, bear him hence,
And once again proclaim us King of England.
You are the Fount, that make small Brooks to flow,
Now flops thy spring, my Sea shall fuck them dry,
And fwell so much the higher, by their ebbe,
Hence with him to the Tower, let him not speak.

*Exit with King Henry.*

And Lords, towards Coventry bend we our courfe,
Where peremptory Warwick now remains:
The Shun fhines hot, and if we ufe delay,
Cold biting Winter marrs our hop'd-for Hay.
Rich. Away betimes, before his forces joyn,
And take the great-grown Traitor unawares:
Brave Warriors, march amain towards Coventry.

*Exeunt.*

*Enter Warwick, the Mayor of Coventry, two Messengers, and others upon the Walls.*

War. Where is the Poft that came from valiant Oxford?
How far hence is thy Lord, mine honeſt fellow?
Mef. 1. By this at Dunſmore, marching hitherward.
War. How far off is our Brother Mountague?
Where is the Poſt that came from Mountague?

Mef. 2. By this at Daintry, with a puilſant troop.
*Enter Somervile.*

War. Say Somervile, what fayes my loving Son ?
And by thy gueſſe, how nigh is Clarence now?
Somerv. At Southam I did leave him with his forces,
And do expect him here fome two hours hence.
War. Then Clarence is at hand, I hear his Drum,
Somer. It is not his, my Lord, here Southam lies:
The Drum your Honor hears, marcheth from Warwick,
War. Who ſhould that be? belike unlook'd for friends.
Somer. They are at hand, and you ſhall quickly know.

March. Flourish, Enter Edward, Richard,
and Rouldiers.

Edw. Go, Trumpet, to the Walls, found a Parle.
Rich. Se how the furly Warwick mans the Wall.
War. Oh unbid ſpight, is ſportfull Edward come ?
Where flept our Scouts, or how are they ſeduc'd,
That we could here no news of his repair.

Edw. Now Warwick, wilt thou ope the City Gates,
Speak gentle words, and humbly bend thy Knee,
Call Edward King, and at his hands beg Mercy,
And he ſhall pardon thee theſe Outrages?

War. Nay rather, wilt thou draw thy forces hence,
Conſeuple who fet thee up, and pluckt thee down,
Call Warwick Patron, and be penitent,
And thou ſhalt still remain the Duke of York.
Rich. I thought at least he would have faid the King,
Or did he make the Jeſt againſt his will?

War. Is not a Dukedome, Sir, a goodly gift?

Rich. I, by my faith, for a poor Earle to give,
I'le do thee ſervice for ſo good a gift.
Warw. 'Twas I that gave the Kingdome to thy Brother.

Edw. Why then 'tis mine, if but by *Warwicks* gift.

War. Thou art no Atlas for ſo great a weight:
And Weakling, Warwick takes his gift again,
And Henry is my King, Warwick, his Subject.

Edw. But *Warwicks* King is Edwards Prifoner :
And gallant Warwick, do but anſwer this,
What is the Body, when the head is off?

Rich. Alas, that Warwick had no more fore-craft,
But whiles he thought to feal the ſingle Ten,
The King was ſilly finger'd from the Deck :
You left poor Henry at the Bifhops Pallace,
And ten to one you'll meet him in the Tower.

Edw. 'Tis even ſo, yet you are Warwick still.

Rich. Come Warwick,

Take the time, kneel down, kneel down:
Nay when: ſtrike now, or eſſe the Iron cools.
War. I had rather chop this hand off at a blow,
And with the other, fling it at thy face,
Then bear ſo low a ſayl, to ſtrike to thee.
Edw. Say! how you canſt,
Have Wind and Tide thy friend,
This hand, faſt wound about thy coal-black hair,
Shall, whiles thy head is warm, and new cut off,
Write in the duſt this Sentence with thy bloud,
Wind-changing Warwick now can change no more.

*Enter Oxford, with Drum and Colours.*

War. Oh chearefull Colours, fee where Oxford comes,
Oſ. Oxford, Oxford, for Lancaſter.

Rich. The Gates are open, let us enter too.

Edw. So other foes may ſet upon our backs,
Stand we in good array: for they no doubt
Will iſſue out again, and bid us battell;
If not, the City being but of small defence,
We'll quickly rowze the traitors in the fame,

War. Oh welcome Oxford, for we want thy help.

*Enter Mountague, with Drum and Colours.*

Mount. Mountague, Mountague, for Lancaſter.
Rich. Thou and thy Brother both ſhall buy this treason
Even with the deareſt bloud your bodies bear.

Edw. The harder match'd, the greater Victory,
My mind prefageth happy gain, and Conqueſt.

*Enter Somerset, with Drum and Colours.*

Som. Somerset, Somerset, for Lancaſter.
Rich. Two of thy Name, both Dukes of Somerset,
Have fold their Lives unto the House of York,
And thou ſhalt be the third, if this Sword hold.

*Enter Clarence, with Drum and Colours.*

War. And Ioe, where George of Clarence sweeps along
Of force enough to bid his brother Battell :
With whom, an upright zeal to right, prevails
More then the nature of a Brothers love.
Come Clarence, come: thou wilt, if Warwick call.

Clar. Father of Warwick, know you what this means?
Look here, I throw my infamy at thee:
I will not ruinate my Fathers House,
Who gave his bloud to lyme the ſtones together,
And fet up Lancaſter. Why, troweſt thou, Warwick,
That Clarence is ſo harſh, ſo blunt, unnatural,
To bend the fatal instruments of War

Against

505

Against his brother, and his lawfull King.

Perhaps thou wilt object my holy Oath :

To keep that Oath, were more impiety,

Then Jephthah, when he sacrificed his Daughter,

I am to forry for my Trespass made,

That to defend well at my brothers hands,

I here proclaim my self mortal foe :

With revolution, wherefore I meet thee,
(As I will meet thee, if thou ftiir abroad)

To plague thee for thy foul mis-leading me.

And so, proud-hearted Warwick, I defie thee,

And to my brother turn my blushing Checks.

Pardon me Edward, I will make amends :

And Richard, do not frown upon my faults,

For I will henceforth be no more unconftant.

Edw. Now welcome more, and ten times more beloved
Then if thou never hadst deferv'd out hate.

Rich. Welcome good Clarence, this is Brother-like.

War. Oh paffing Traitor, perjur'd and unjust.

Edw. What Warwick,

Wilt thou leave the Town, and fight ?

Or if we beat the Stones about thine Ears ?

Warm. Alas, I am not coops'd here for defence :

I will away towards Barnet presently,

And bid thee Battell, Edward, if thou dar'st.

Edw. Yes Warwick, Edward dares, and leads the way.

To the field : Saint George, and Victory. Exeunt.

March. Warwick and his company follows.

Alarum, and Excursions. Enter Edward bringing forth Warwick wounded.

Edw. So, lie thou there : die thou, and die our fear,
For Warwick was a Bug that fear'd us all.

Now Mountague fit faft, I feek for thee,

That Warwick's Bones may keep thine company.

War. Ah, who is nigh ? come to me, friend, or foe,

And tell me who is Victor, Tork, or Warwick ?

Why ask I that ? my mangled body fiews,

My blood, my want of ſtrength, my ſick heart ſiews,

That I muſt yield my body to the Earth,

And by my fall, the conquelt to my foe.

Thus yields the Cedart to the Axes edge,

Whofe Armes gave ſhelter to the Princely Eagle,

Under whole ſhade the ramping Lion ſlept,

Whofe top-branch over-peer'd Joves ſpreading tree,

And kept low Shrubs from Winters pow'r full wind,

Theſe Eyes, that now are dim'd with Deaths black Veyl,

Have been as piercing as the Mid-day Sun,

To ſearch the ſecret Treafons of the world :

The wincles in my Brows, now fill'd with bloud,

Were lik'ned oft to Kingly Sepulchers :

For who liv'd King, but I could dig his Grave ?

And who durſt ſmile, when Warwick bent his Brow ?

Loe, now my Glory ſmeare'd in duſt and bloud,

My Parks, my Walks, my Mannors that I had,

Even now forſake me ; and of all my Lands,

Isnothing left me, but my bodies length.

Why, what is Pomp, Rule, Reign, but Earth and Duſt ?

And live we how we can, yet die we muſt.

Enter Oxford and Somerſet.

Som. Ah, Warwick, Warwick, wert thou as we are,
We might recover all our Loffe again :

The Queen from France hath brought a puſſant power
Even now we heard the news, ah, could it thou flye.

Warw. Why then I would not flye. Ah Mountague,
If thou be there, Iweet brother, take my hand,

And with thy Lips keep in my foul a while.

Thou lov't me not: for, brother, if thou didſt,

Thy tears would wath this cold congealed bloud,

That glews my Lips, and will not let me speak,

Come quickly Mountague, or I am dead.

Sons. Ah Warwick, Mountague hath breath'd his laſt,
And to the lateſt gaſpe, cry'd out for Warwick :

And faid commend me to my valiant Brother.

And more he would have faid, and more he ſpoke,

Which founded like a Cannon in a Vault,

That mought not be diſtinguifh'd: but at laſt,

I well might hear, delivered with a groan,

O farewell Warwick.

War. Sweet reſt his foul :

Flye Lords, and fave your ſelves,

For Warwick bids you all farewell, to meet in heaven.

Oſx. Awaſy, awaſy, to meet the Queens great power,

Here they bear away his body.

Exeunt

Flourish. Enter King Edward in triumph, with Richard, Clarence, and the reſt.

King. Thus far our fortune keeps an upward course,

And we are grac'd with wreaths of Victory :

But in the midſt of this bright ſhining Day,

I ſpye a black ſuſpicious threatening Cloud,

That will encounter with our glorious Sun,

E're he attain his caſeſull Western Bed :

I mean, my Lords, thatſe powers that the Queen

Hath rais'd in Gallia, have arrived our Coaſt,

And, as we hear, march on to fight with us.

Clar. A little gale will ſoon difſperſe that Cloud,

And blow it to the Source from whence it came,

Thy very Beams will dry that ſavours up,

For every Cloud engenders not a Storm.

Rich. The Queen is valued thirty thouſand ſtrong,

And Somerſet, with Oxford, fled to her :

If the bath time to breath, be well affu'r'd

Her ſaction will be full as ſtrong as ours.

King. We are advertis'd by our loving friends,

That they do hold their course toward Tempsbury.

We having now the beſt at Barnet field,

Will thither ſtraight, for willingneſſe rids way,

And as we march, our ſtrength will be augmented :

In every County as we go along,

Strike up the Drum, cry courage, and away.

Exeunt.

March. Enter the Queen, young Edward,
Somerſet, Oxford, and
Souldiers.

Q. Great Lords, wife men ne're fit and wail their loffe
But chearly ſeek how to redreſſe their harms.

What though the Maſt be now blown over-board,

The Cable broke, the holding-Achor loſt,

And half our Sailors ſwallow'd in the floud ?

Yet lives our Pilot full. Is't meet, that he

Should leave the Helm, and like a fearfull Lad,

With tearfull Eyes adde water to the Sea,

And give more ſtrength to that which hath too much,

Whiles in his moan, the Ship ſplits on the Rock,

Which induſtry and Courage might have fav'd ?

Ah what a ſhame, ah what a fault were this.

Say Warwick was our Anchor: what of that ?

And

507

Rich. Why should we live, to fill the World with
words?

Edw. What ? doth the woun ? ufe means for her re-
covery.

Rich. Clarence excufe me to the King my Brother :
Ile hence to London on a serious matter,
Ere ye come there, be fure to hear fome news.

Clar. What ? what ?

Rich. Tower, the Tower.

Exit.

Qu. Oh Ned, Iweet Ned, Ipeak to thy Mother Boy.
Can it thou not speak ? O Traitors, Murtherers !

They that flabb'd Caſar, ſhed no blood at all :
Did not offend, nor were not worthy Blame,
If this foul deed were by, to equall it.

He was a Man ; this (in reſpect) a Child,
And Men, ne're Iſpend their fury on a Child.
What's worſe then Murtherer, that I may name it?

No, no, my heart will burſt, and if I (speak,
And I will ſpeak, that ſo my heart may burſt.

Butchers and Villains, bloudy Cannibals,

How ſweet a Plant have you untimely cropt :
You have no children (Butchers) if you had,
The thought of them would have ſtir'd up remorſe ;
But if you ever chance to have a Child,

Look in his youth to have him ſo cut off.

As deathſmen you have rid this ſweet young Prince.

King. Away with her, go bear her hence perſence.

Qu. Nay, neyer bear me hence, dispatch me here :
Here neſlath thy ſword, I'le pardon thee my death :

What ? wilt thou not ? Then Clarence do it thou,

Clar. By heaven, I will not do thee ſo much eſe.

Qu. Good Clarence do, Iweet Clarence do thou it.

Clar. Did it thou not hear me ſwear I would not do it?

Qu. I but thou uſe't to forſwear thy ſelf.

Twas ſin before, but now 'tis Charity.

What wilt thou not ? where is that devil's butcher Richard,
Hard favour'd Richard ? Richard, where art thou ?

Thou art not here ; Murther is thy Almsdeed.

Petitioner for Bloud, thou ne're pulſt back.

Edw. Away I lay, I charge ye bear her hence.

Qu. So come to you, and yours, as to this Prince.

Exit Queen.

Edw. Where's Richard gone.

Cla. To London all in poſt, and as I gueſſe,
To make a bloudy Supper in the Tower ?

Edw. He's ſudden if a thing comes in his head,
Now march we hence, diſcharge the common fort
With Pay and thanks, and let's away to London,
And fee our gentle Queen how well the fars,
By this (I hope) ſhe hath a Son for me.

Exit.

Enter Henry the sixth, and Richard, with the Lieutenant on the Walls.

Rich. Good day, my Lord, what at your Book for
hard ?

Hen. I my good Lord : my Lord I should ſay rather,
Tis fin to flatter, Good was little better :

Good Gloſter, and Good devill, were alike,

And both preſſterous : therefore, not Good Lord.

Rich. Sirrha, leave us to our fels, we must confer.

Hen. So flies the wreakleſs shepherd from the Wolf :
So firſt the harmleſſe Sheep doth yield his Fleece,
And next his Throat unto the butchers Knife.

What Scene of death hath Roffius now to act ?

Rich. Sufpition alwayes haunts the guilty mind,

The Thief doth fear each buſh an Officer.

Hen. The Bird that hath been limed in a buſh ;
With trembling wings miſdoubteth every buſh ;
And I the helpleſſe Male to one ſweet Bird,

Have now the fatal Object in my eye,

Where my poor young was limb'd, was caught, and kild,
Rich. Why what a peeviſh Fool was that of Greet,
That taught his Son the office of a Fowl,

And yet for all his wings, the fool was droun'd.

Hen. I Dedalus, my poor Boy Icarus,

Thy Father Minos, that deni'd our courſe,
The Sun that fear'd the wings of my ſweet Boy.

Thy Brother Edward, and thy ſelf, the Sea

Whofe envious Gulf did ſwallow up his life :

Ah, kill me with thy Weapon, not with words,

My breſt can better brook thy Daggers point,

Then can my ears that Tragick Hiltory.

But wherefore doſt thou come ? Is't for my Life ?

Rich. Think it thou I am an Executioner ?

Hen. A perſecutor I am ſure thou art,
If murthering Innocents be Executings,
Why then thou art an Executioner.

Rich. Thy Son I kill'd for his preſumption.

Hen. Had it thou bin kill'd when firſt thou didt pre-

Thou had't not liv'd to kill a Son of mine :

(ſume,
And thus I propheſie that many a thouſand,

Which now miſtruſt no parcel of my fear,

And many an old mans ſigh, and many a Widows,

And many an Orphans water-landing-eye,

Men for their Sons, Wives for their Husbands ſate,

And Orphans, for their Parents timeleſs death,

Shall rue the hour that ever thou waſt born.

The Owle ſhriek'd at thy birth, an evill ſign,

The Night-Crow cry'd, abodin glockleſſe, time,

Dogs howl'd, and hideous tempeſt fook down trees :

The Raven rook'd her on the Chimnies top;

And chatt'ring Pies in diſmal Diſcords ſung :

Thy Mother felt more then a Mothers pain,

And yet brought forth leſſe then a Mothers hope,

To wit, an indigeſted deformed lump,

Not like the fruit of ſuch a goodly tree.

Teeth had it thou in thy head, when thou was't born,
To ſignifie, thou cam'ſt to bite the world :

And if the reſt be true which I have heard,

Thou cam'ſt----------

Rich. I'le hear no more :

Die Prophet in thy ſpeech,

Stabs him.

For this (among it the reſt) was I ordain'd.

Hen. I, and for much more ſlaughter after this,

O God forgive my fins, and pardon thee.

Dies.

Rich. What ? will the alſpiring blood of Lancaſter
Sink in the ground ? I thought it would have mounted.

See how my ſword weeps for the poor Kings death.

O may ſuch purple tears be alway ſhed

From thofe that with the downfall of our house.

If any ſpark of life be yet remaining,

Down, down to hell, and ſay I ſent thee thither.

Stabs him again.

I that have neither pitty, love, nor fear.

Indeed 'tis true that Henry told me of:

For I have often heard my Mother ſay,

I came into the world with my Legs forward.

Had I not reaſon (think ye) to make haſt,

And ſee their Ruine, that uturp'd our Right ?

The Midwife wonder'd, and the Women cride

O Jefus bleſſs us, he is born with teeth,

And

508

And to I was, which plainly signified,
That I should snarle, and bite, and play the dog:
Then since the Heavens have fhap'd my body to,
Let hell make crook'd my Mind to answer it.
I have no brother, I am like no brother:
And this word Love which Gray-beards call Divine,
Be confident in men like one another,
And not in me: I am my self alone.
Clarence beware, thou keep'st me from the light,
But I will fort a pitchy day for thee:
For I will buz abroad such Prophecies,
That Edward shall be fearfull of his life,
And then to purge his fear, I'll be thy death.
King Henry, and the Prince his son are gone,
Clarence thy turn is next, and then the rest,
Counting my self but bad, till I be beft.
I'll throw thy body in another room,
And triumph Henry, in thy day of Doom.

Enter King, Queen, Clarence, Richard, Hafting,
Nurse, and Attendants.

King. Once more we fit in Englands Royal throne,
Re-purchac'd with the cloud of Enemies:
What valiant Foe-men, like to Autumns Corn,
Have we mow'd down in tops of all their pride?
Three Dukes of Somerset, threefold Renown,
For hardy and undoubted Champions:
Two Cliffsors, as the Father and the Son,
And two Northumberlands: two braver men,
Ne're spurr'd their Courfers at the Trumpets found.
With them, the two brave Bears, Warwick and Mounta-
That in their Chains fetter'd the Kingly Lion,
(gue,
And made the Forreft tremble when they roar'd.

Exit.

I hus have we wept Sulfition from our Seat,
And made our footstool of Security.
Come hither Beß, and let me kiffle my Boy:
Young Ned, for thee, thine Uncles, and my self,
Have in our armors watch'd the Winter night,
Went all afoot in Summers scalding heat,
That thou might'st repoffeſſe the Crowne in peace,
And of our Labours thou ſhalt reap the gain.

Rich, I'll blast his harvest, if your head were laid,
For I yet am not look'd on in the world.
This shoulder was ordain'd fo thick, to heave,
And heave it ſhall fome waight, or break my back,
Work thou the way, and that ſhall execute.

King. Clarence and Gloſter, love my lovely Queen,
And kiffle your Princely Nephew Brothers both.

Clar. The duty that I owe your Majesty,
I Seal upon the lips of this Sweet Babe.

King. Thanks Noble Clarence, worthy brother thanks,
Ri. And that I love the tree from whence thou ſprang'st
Witneſſe the loving kiffle I give the Fruit:
To lay the truth, fo Fudas kiff his maſter,
And cryed all hail, when as he meant all harm.

King. Now am I feated as my foul delights,
Having my Countries peace, and brothers loves.

Clar. What will your Grace have done with Margaret?
Reynard her Father, to the King of France
Hath pawn'd the Sicils and Jeruſalem,
And hither have they ſent it for her ransome.

King. Away with her, and waſt her hence to France:
And now what reſts, but that we ſpend the time
With Stately Triumphs, mirthfull Comick ſhews,
Such as beſits the pleasure of the Court.
Sound Drums and Trumpets, farewell ſowre annoy,
For here I hope begins our laſting joy.
Exennt omnes.

FINIS.

# The Tragedy of Richard the Third:
With the Landing of the Earl of Richmond, and the Battel at
Bofworth Field.

## Actus Primus. Scena Prima.

*Enter Richard Duke of Gloster, Solus.*

Now is the Winter of our Difcontent,
Made glorious Summer by this Son of York:
And all the clouds that lowr'd upon our houſe
In the deep boſome of the Ocean buried.

Now are our brows bound with Victorious Wreathes,
Our bruſed arms hung up for Monuments;

Our fern Alarums chang'd to merry Meetings;

Our dreadull Marches to delightfull Meaſures.

Grim-vifag'd War, hath smooth'd his wrinkled Front :
And now, in head of mounting Barbed Steeds,

To fright the Soules of fearfull Adverfaries,

He capers nimbly in a Ladie's Chamber,

To the laſcivious pleafing of a Lute.

But I, that am not flap'd for ſportive tricks,

Normade to court an amorous Looking-glaf's:

I, that am Rudely ſtampt, and want Love's Majefty,
To trut before a wanton ambling Nymph :
I, that am curtail'd of this fair Proportion,
Cheated of Feature by diſlembling Nature,

Deform'd, unfinish'd, ſent before my time

Into this breathing World, ſcarce half made up,

And that to lamely and unfaſſionable,

That dogges bark at me, as I halt by them:

Why I (in this weak piping time of Peace)

Have no delight to pafs away the time,

Unleſs to ſee my Shadow in the Sun,

And deſcant on mine own Deformity.

And therefore, ſince I cannot prove a Lover,

To entertain theſe fair well-spoken dayes,

I am determined to prove a Villain,

And hate the idle pleaſures of theſe dayes.

Plots have I laid, Inductions dangerous,

By drunken Propheſies, Libels, and Dreams,

To ſet my Brother *Clarence* and the King

In deadly hate, the one against the other:

And if King *Edward* be as true and juſt,

As I am Subtle, Fafle, and Treacherous,

This day ſhould *Clarence* cloſely be mew'd up:

About a Propheſie, which ſayes that *G*,

Of Edward's heirs the murtherer ſhall be,
Dive thoughts down to my ſoul, here *Clarence* comes,

Enter *Clarence*, and *Brakenbury*, *guarded*.

Brother, good day : What means this armed guard

That waits upon your Grace?

*Cla.* His Majefty tending my perſons ſafety,

Hath appointed this Conduct to convey me to th' Tower.

*Rich.* Upon what caufe ?

*Cla.* Because my name is George.

*Rich.* Alack my Lord, that fault is none of yours :
He ſhould for that commit your Grandfathers.

O belike, his Majefty hath ſome intent,

That you ſhould be new Chriſtned in the Tower.

But what's the matter *Clarence*, may I know?

*Cla.* Yea Richard, when I know: but I proteſt
As yet I do not: But as I can learn,

He hearkens after Propheſies and Dreams,

And from the Croſs-row plucks the letter *G*:

And ſayes, a Wizard told him, that by *G*,

His ilſue dis-inherited ſhould be.

And for my name of *George* begins with *G*,

It follows in his thought that I am he.

Theſe (as I learn) and ſuch toyes as theſe,

Hath mov'd his Highneſts to commit me now.

*Rich.* Why this it is, when men are rul'd by Women.

Tis not the King that ſends you to the Tower,

My Lady *Grey* his Wife, *Clarence* 'tis ſhe,

That tempts him to this harſt Extremity.

Was it not ſhe, and that good man of Worſhip,

*Anthony Woodville* her Brother there,

That made him ſend Lord *Haſtings* to the Tower?

From whence this preſent day he is delivered.

We are not ſafe *Clarence*, we are not ſafe.

*Cla.* By heaven, I think there is no man ſecure

But the Queen's Kindred, and night-walking Heralds,

That truſe betwixt the King, and Miftrifs *Shore*.

Heard you not what an humble Suppliant

Lord *Haſtings* was, for his delivery ?

*Rich.* Humbly complaining to her Deitie,

Gor my Lord Chamberlain his liberty.

Ile tell you what, I think it is our way,

If we will keep in favour with the King,

To be her man, and wear her Livery :

The jealous o're-worn Widow, and her ſelf,

Since that our Brother du'd them Gentlewomen,

Are mighty Goffips in our Monarchy.

*Bra.* I beſeeth your Graces both to pardon me,

His Majefty hath ſtraightly given in charge,

That no man ſhall have private Conſerence

(Of what degree ſoever) with your Brother..

V u

*Rich.*

510

The Life and Death of Richard the Third.

Rich. Even so, and please your worship Brakenbury,
You may partake of any thing we say:
We speak no Treason man; we say the King
Is wife and virtuous, and his noble Queen
Well trook in years, fair and not jealous.
We say, that Shore's wife hath a pretty Foot,
A cherry Lip, a bonny Eye, a palling pleafing Tongue:
And that the Queen's Kindred are made Gentle-folks,
How say you, Sir? can you deny all this?

Rich. Which this (my Lord) my self have nought to
doe.

Rich. Naught to doe with Mistris Shore ?
I tell thee Fellow, he that doth naught with her
(Excepting one) were beft to do it secretly alone.

Bra. What one, my Lord?

Rich. Her Husband Knave, would't thou betray me?

Bra. I do befeech your Grace

To pardon me, and withall forbear

Your Conference with the noble Duke.

Cla. We know thy charge Brakenbury, and will obey.

Rich. We are the Queen's abjeets, and muft obey.

Brother farewell, I will unto the King,
And whatsoe you will employ me in,
Were it to call King Edward's widow, Sifter,
I will perform it to-infranchishe you.
Mean time, this deep disgrace of Brotherhood,
Touches me deeper then you can imagine.

Cla. I know it pleaseth neither of us well.

Rich. Well, your imprisonment shall not be long,

I will deliver you, or else lye for you :
Mean time have patience.

Cla. I muft peirorce: farewel.

Exit Cla.

Rich. Go tread the path that thou shall ne're return:
Simple plain Clarence, I do love thee so,
That I will shortly send thy Soul to Heaven,
If Heaven will take the prefent at our hands,
But who comes here ? the new delivered Haſtings?

Enter Lord Haſtings.

Haſt. Good time of day unto my gracious Lord.

Rich. As much unto my good Lord Chamberlain :

Well are you welcome to this open Air,

How hath your Lordship brook'd Imprisonment ?

Haſt. With patience (noble Lord) as prifoners muſt:

But I ſhall live (my Lord) to give them thanks

That were the caufe of my imprisonment.

Rich. No doubt, no doubt, and ſo ſhall Clarence too,
For they that were your Enemies, are his,

And have prevail'd as much on him, as you.

Haſt. More pitie, that the Eagles ſhould be mew'd,

Whiles Kites and Buzzards play at liberty.

Rich. What newes abroad ?

Haſt. No newes ſo bad abroad, as this at home :

The King is fickly, weak and melancholly,

And his Phyſicians fear him nightly.

Rich. Now by Saint John, that news is bad indeed.

O he hath kept an evil diet long,

And over-much confum'd his Royal Perſon :

'Tis very grievous to be thought upon.

Where is he, in his bed ?

Rich. He is.

Rich. Go you before, and I will follow you.

Exit Haſtings.

He cannot live I hope, and muſt not dye,

'Till George be pack'd with poſt-horſe up to Heaven.

I'le in to urge his hatred more to Clarence,
Which lyes well feel'd with weighty arguments,
And if I fail not in my deep intent,

Clarence hath not another day to live :

Which done, God take King Edward to his mercy,
And leave the world for me to buſle in.

For then, I'le marry Warwick's younſeſt daughter,
What though I kill'd her Husband, and her Father,
The readieſt way to make the wench amends,

Is to become her husband and her father :
The which will I, not all ſo much for love,

As for another ſecret cloſe intent,

By marrying her, which I muſt reach unto.

But yet I run before my horſe to Market :

Clarence fill breathes, Edward fill lives and raigns,
When they are gone, then muſt I count my gaines, Exit.

## Scena Secunda.

Enter the Coarſe of Henry the ſixth, with Halberdsto guard it, Lady Anne being the Mourner.

Anne. Set down, fet down your honourable load,
If Honour may be ſhrowded in a Herſe ;

Whilft I a while obſequiouſly lament

Th'untimely ſell of Virtuous Lancashire,

Poor key-cold Figure of a holy King,

Pale affhes of the Houſe of Lancashire ;

Thou bloudleſs Remnant of that Royal Bloud,

Be it lawfull that I invocate thy Ghoſt,

To hear the Lamentations of poor Anne,

Wife to thy Edward, to thy ſlaughtred Son,

Stab'd by the ſelfeſame hand that made theſe wounds.

Loe, in theſe windows that let forth thy Life,

I pour the helpleſs Balm of my poor eyes.

O curſed be the hand that made theſe holes :

Curſed the heart, that had the heart to do it :

Curſed the bloud, that let this bloud from hence,

More direſſu full hap betide that hated wretch

That makesuſe wretched by the death of thee,

Then I can wifh to VVolves, to Spiders, Toads,

Or any creeping venom'd thing that lives.

If ever he have Child, Abortive be it,

Prodigious, and untimely brought to light,

VVhofe ugly and unnatural affpeſt

May fright the hopefull Mother at the view,

And that be Heir to his unhappineſs.

If ever he have VVife, let her be made

More miferable by the death of him,

Then I am made by my young Lord, and thee,

Come now towards Chertſey with your holy Load,

Taken from Paules, to be interred there.

And ſtill as you are weary of this weight,

Reſt you, whiles I lament King Henri's Coarſe.

Enter Richard Duke of Gloster.

Rich. Stay you that bear the Coarſe, and fet it down.

An. VVhat black Magician conjures up this Fiend,
To ſtop devoted charitable deeds ?

Rich. Villains fet down the Coarſe; or by S. Paul,
I'le make a Coarſe of him that diſobeys.

Gen.

["The Life and Death of Richard the Third.", "511", "Gen. My Lord stand back, and let the Coffin pats.", "Rich. Unmanner'd Dog!", "Stand thou when I command:", "Advance thy Halbert higher then my breast,", "Or by S. Paul I'le strike thee to my Foot,", "And spurn upon thee, Beggar, for thy boldneſs.", "Anne. What do you tremble ? are you all afraid ?", "Alas, I blame you not, for you are Mortal,", "And Mortal eyes cannot endure the Devil,", "Avant thou dreadfull minifter of Hell;", "Thou hadst it but power over my Mortal body,", "His Soul thou cannot have : therefore be gone.", "Rich. Sweet Saint, for Charity, be not so curſt.", "Anne. Foul Devil,", "For God's ſake hence, and trouble us not,", "For thou haſt made the happy earth thy Hell:", "Fill'd it with curling cries, and deep exclaimes :", "If thou delight to view thy heinous deeds,", "Bhold this pattern of thy Butcheries.", "Oh Gentlemen, fee, fee dead Henrie's wounds,", "Open their congeal'd mouthes, and bleed a-free:", "Bluſh, bluſh, then lump of ſoul Deformity :", "For 'tis thy preſence that exhales this blood", "From cold and empty Veins where no blood dwels,", "Thy deeds inhumane and inhuman touch of pitie.", "Provokes this Deluge moſt unnatural.", "O God ! which this Bloud mad'ft, revenge his death :", "O Earth ! which this Bloud drink't, revenge his death.", "Either Heav'n with Lightning strike the murthe're dead,", "Or Earth, gape open wide, and eat him quick,", "As thou doſt up this good King's bloody,", "Which this Hell-govern'd arme hath butchered.", "Rich. Lady, you know no Rules of Charity,", "Which renders good for bad, Bleſſings for Curſes.", "Anne. Villain, thou know't nor law of God nor Man,", "No Beaſt to ſ fierce, but to acquit my ſelf.", "Rich. But I know none, and therefore am no Beaſt.", "Anne. O wonderful, when Devils tell the truth !", "Rich. More wonderful, when Angels are ſo angry :", "Vouchſafe (divine perſection of a Woman)", "Of theſe ſuppoſed Crimes, to give me leave,", "By circumſtance, but to acquit my ſelf.", "Anne. Vouchſafe (diffus'd inſedtion of a man)", "Of theſe known evils, but to give me leave", "By circumſtance, to curſe thy curſed Self.", "Rich. Fairer then tongue can name thee, let me have\nSome patient leſure to excufe my ſelf.", "Anne. Fouler then heart can think thee,", "Thou can't make no excufe currant,", "But to hang thy ſelf.", "Rich. By ſuch deſpair, I should accufe my ſelf.", "Anne. And by deſpairing ſhalt thou ſtand excuſed,", "For doing worthy Vengeance on thy ſelf,", "That did it unwarily ſlaughter upon others.", "Rich. Say that I flew them not.", "Anne. Then ſay they were not ſlain :", "But dead they are, and, devilliſh ſtave, by thee.", "Rich. I did not kill your Husband.", "Anne. Why then he is alive.", "Rich. Nay, he is dead, and ſlain by Edward's hands.", "Anne. In thy foul Throat thou Ly'ft,", "Queen Margaret ſaw", "Thy murd'rous Faulchion ſmoaking in his bloud :", "The which, thou once didd'ft bend againſt her breast,", "But that thy Brothers beat aſide the point.", "Rich. I was provoked by her ſland'rous tongue,", "That laid their guilt, upon my guiltlesſ shoulders.", "Anne. Thou was't provoked by thy bloudy mind,\nThat never dream'd it on ought but butcheries :", "Did it thou not kill this King?", "Rich. I grant ye.", "Anne. Do't grant me, Hedge-hog,", "Then God grant me too", "Thou may'ſt be damned for that wicked deed :", "O he was gentle, milde, and virtuous,", "Rich. The better for the King of heaven that hath him.", "Anne. He is in heaven where thou ſhalt never come.", "Rich. Let him thank me, that hollp to ſend him thither:", "For he was fitter for that place then earth,", "Anne. And thou unfit for any place but hell.", "Rich. Yes one place else, if you will hear me name it.", "Anne. Some dungeon.", "Rich. Your Bed-chamber.", "Anne. I'll reſt betide the chamber where thou lyeſt.", "Rich. So will it Madam, 'till I lye with you.", "Anne. I hope ſo.", "Rich. I know ſo. But gentle Lady Anne,", "To leave this keen encounter of our wits,", "And fall ſomething into a flower method.", "Is not the cauſer of the timelesſ deaths", "Of theſe Plantagenets, Henry and Edward,", "As blamefull as the Executioner ?", "Anne. Thou was't the cauſe, and moſt accuſt effect.", "Rich. Your beauty was the cauſe of that effect :", "Your beauty, that did haunt me in my ſleep,", "To undertake the death of all the world,", "So I might live one hour in your ſweet boſome.", "Anne. If I thought that, I tell thee Homicide,", "Theſe Nails ſhould rent that beauty from my Cheeks.", "Rich. Theſe eyes could not endure that beauties wrack,\nYou should not blemiſh it, if I ſtood by :", "As all the world is cheered by the Sun,", "So I by that : it is my day, my life.", "An. Black night o're ſhade thy day, & death thy life.", "Rich. Curſe not thy ſelf, fair Creaſure,", "Thou art both.", "Anne. I would I were, to be reveng'd on thee.", "Rich. It is a quarrel moſt unnatural,", "To be reveng'd on him that loveth thee.", "Anne. It is a quarrel juſt and reaſonable,", "To be reveng'd on him that kill'd my Husband.", "Rich. He that bereſt the Lady of thy Husband,", "Did it to help thee to a better husband.", "Anne. His better doth not breathe upon the earth.", "Rich. He lives, that loves thee better then he could.", "Anne. Name him.", "Rich. Plantagenet.", "Anne. Why that was he.", "Rich. The ſelf-fame name, but one of better Nature.", "Anne. Where is he ?", "Rich. Here : ... Spits at him.", "Why doſt thou ſpit at me ?", "Anne. Would it were mortal poſſon, for thy ſake.", "Rich. Never came poſſon from ſo ſweet a place.", "Anne. Never hung poſſon on a fouler Toad."

§12

Sham'd their Aspects with flore of childh'd drops :
These eyes, which never flhed remorfefull tear,
No, when my Father York, , and Edward wept.
To hear the piteous moan that Rutland made
When black-fac'd Clifford lhook his fword at him.
Nor when my Warlike Father like a child,
Told the fad ſtory of my Father's death,
And twenty times, made paufe to fob and weep,
That all the ſtanders by had wet their cheeks
Like Trees be-daſh'd with rain : in that fad time,
My manly eyes did ſcorn an humble tear :
And what theſe forrows could not thence exhale,
Thy Beauty hath, and made them blind with weeping.
I never fued to Friend, nor Enemy :
My Tongue could never learn ſweet ſmoothing word.
But now thy Beauty is propos'd my Fee,
My proud heart ſues, and prompts my tongue to ſpeak.

She looks ſcornfully at him.

Teach not thy lip ſuch Scorn ; for it was made
For killing Lady, not for ſuch contempt.
If thy revengefull heart cannot forgive,
Loe here I lend thee this ſharp-pointed Sword,
Which if thou pleafe to hide in this true breast,
And let the ſoul forth that adoreth thee,
I lay it naked to thy deadly ſtroke,
And humbly beg the death upon my knee.

He layes his breast open, ſhe offers at it with his ſword.

Nay do not paufe: for I did kill King Henry
But 'twas thy Beauty that provoked me.
Nay now diſpatch: 'Twas I that ſtab'd young Edward,
But 'twas thy Heavenly face that fet me on.

She falls the ſword.

Take up the ſword again, or take up me.

Anne. Arife Diffembler, though I with thy death,
I will not be thy Executioner.

Rich. Then bid me kill my ſelf, and I will do it.

Anne. I have already.

Rich. That was in thy rage :

Speak it again, and even with thy word,
Th's hand, which for thy love, did kill thy Love,
Shall for thy love, kill a far truer Love,
To both their deaths ſhalt thou be accefſary.

Anne. I would I knew thy heart.

Rich. 'Tis figur'd in my tongue.

Anne. I fear me, both are ſalie.

Rich. Then never Man was true.

Anne. Well, well, put up your Sword.

Rich. Say then my Peace is made.

Anne. That ſhalt thou know hereafter.

Rich. But ſhall I live in hope ?

Anne. All men I hope live to.

Vouchſaſe to wear this Ring.

Rich. Look how thy Ring encompaſſeth my Finger,
Even ſo thy Breast incloſeth my poor heart :
Wear both of them, for both of them are thine.
And if thy poor devoted Servant may
But beg one favour at thy gracious hand,
Thou doſt confirm this happineſs for ever.

Anne. What is it ?

Rich. That it may pleafe you leave theſe ſad defignes,
To him that hath moſt cauſe to be a Mourner,
And prefently repair to Crosbie Houſe :
Where (after I have ſolemnly interr'd
At Chertſey Monaſt'ry this noble King,
And wet his Grave with my Repentant Tears)
I will with all expedient duty ſee you.

For divers unknown Reaſons, I beſeech you,
Grant me this Boon.

Anne. With all my heart, and much it joyes me too,
To fee you are become ſo penitent.

Treffel and Barkley, go along with me.

Rich. Bid me farewell.

Anne. 'Tis more then you deferre :
But ſince you teach me how to flatter you,
Imagine I have ſaid farewell already.

Exit two with Anne.

Gent. Towards Chertſey, Noble Lord?

Rich. Now to White Fryers, there attend my coming.

Exit Coarſe.

Was ever woman in this humour Woo'd ?

Was ever woman in this humour wonne ?

I'le have her, but I will not keep her long.

What ? I have kill'd her husband, and his father,

To take her in her hearts extreameſt hate,

With curſes in her mouth, teares in her eyes,

The bleeding witnesses of my hatred by,

Having God, her Conſcience, and theſe bars againſt me,

And I no friends to back my ſuite withall,

But the plain Devil and diſſembling looks ?

And yet to winne her? All the world to nothing.
Hah !

Hath the ſe forgot already that brave Prince,

Edward, her Lord, whom I (fome three months ſince)

Stab'd in my angry mood, at Tewksbury ?

A ſweeter and a lovelier Gentleman

Fram'd in the pedigree of Nature ;

Young, Valiant, Wife, and (no doubt) right Royal,

The ſpacious world cannot again ſ afford,

And will ſhe thus abafe her eyes on me,

That cropt the Golden prime of this ſweet Prince,
And made her Widow to a wofull Bed ?

On me, whose ſt All not equals Edward's Moytie?

On me, that halts, and am miſhapen thus ?

My Dukedome, to a beggarly denier ?

I do miſtake my perſon all this while :

Upon my life the ſinds (although I cannot)

My ſelf to be a marv'lous proper man.

I'le be at charges for a Looking-glaſs,

And entertain a ſcore or two of Taylors,

To ſtudie ſafions to adorn my body :

Since I am crept in favour with my ſelf,

I will maintain it with ſome little coſt,

But firſt I'le turn yon fellow in his Grave,

And then return lamenting to my Love.

Shine out fair Sun, 'till I have bought a Glaſs,

That I may ſee my Shadow as I paſ.

Exit.

Scena Tertia.

Enter the Queen Mother, Lord Rivers,
and Lord Gray.

Riv. Have patience Madam, there's no doubt his Majefly
Will ſoon recover his accuſtom'd health.

Gray. In that you brook it ill, it makes him worſe,
Therefore for God's ſake entertain good comfort,
And cheer his Grace with quick and merry eyes.

Queen. If he were dead, what would betide on me?

Gray.

513

Gray. No other harm, but lots of such a Lord,
Qu. The lots of such a Lord, includes all harmes.
Gray. The Heavens have bleft you with a goodly Son,
To be your Comforter, when he is gone.
Qu. Ah ! he is young ; and his minority
Is put unto the truſt of Richard Gloſter,
A man that loves not me, nor none of you,
Riv. Is it concluded he ſhall be Proteſor ?
Qu. It is determin'd, not concluded yet :
But to it muſt be, if the King miſcarry.

Enter Buckingham and Derby.

Gray. Here comes the Lord of Buckingham & Derby.
Buc. Good time of day unto your Royal Grace.
Derb. God make you Majeſty joyfull, as you have bin.
Qu. The Counteſs Richmond; good my L. of Derby.
To your good prayer will ſcarcely ſay, Amen.
Yet Derby, nor withſtanding ſhe's your Wife,
And loves not me, be you, good Lord, affur'd;
I hate not you for her proud arrogance,
Derb. I do beſeech you, either not believe
The envious flanders of her ſalſe Accuſers :
Or if he be accuſ'd on true report,
Bear with her weakneſs, which I think proceeds
From wayward fickneſs, and no grounded malice.
Qu. Saw you the King to day my Lord of Derby?
Derb. But now the Duke of Buckingham and I,
Are come from viſiting his Majeſty.

Qu. What likelyhood of his amendment Lords?
Buc. Madam good hope, his Grace ſpeaks chearfully
Qu. God grant him health, did you confer with him?
Buc. I Madam, defires to make artonement,
Between the Duke of Gloſter, and your Brothers,
And between them, and my Lord Chamberlain,
And ſent to warn them to his Royal preſence.
Qu. Would all were well, but that will never be,
I fear our hapineſs is at the height.

Enter Richard.

Rich. They do me wrong, and I will not endure it,
Who is it that complains unto the King,
That I (forfooth) am ſtern, and love them not ?
By holy Paul, they love his Grace but lightly,
That fill his eares with ſuch diſſentious Rumors.
Because I cannot flatter, and look fair,
Smile in men's faces, ſmooth, deceive, and cogge,
Duck with French nodſ, and Apiph curſeſic,
I muſt be held a rancorous Enemy,
Cannot a plain man live, and think no harm,
But thus his ſimple truth muſt be abus'd,
With ſilken, ſlie, infinuating Jacks ?
Gray. To whom in all this preſence ſpeaks your Grace ?
Rich. To thee, that haſt nor honetly, nor Grace :
When have I injur'd thee ? When done thee wrong ?
Or thee ? or thee ? or any of your Faſtion ?
A plague upon you all. His Royal Grace
(Whom God preſerve better then you would wifh)
Cannot be quiet ſcaree a breathing while,
But you muſt trouble him with lewd complaints.
Qu. Brother of Gloſter, you miſtake the matter :
The King on his own Royal diſpoſition,
(And not provok'd by any Suitor eſſe)
Aiming (belike) at your interior hatred, .

That in your outward action ſhews it ſelf
Against my Children, Brothers, and my Self,
Makes him to fend, that he may learn the ground,
Rich. I cannot tell, the world is grown ſo bad,
That Wrens make prey, where Eagles dare not perch,
Since every Jack became a Gentleman,
There's many a gentle perſon made a Jack.
Qu. Come, come, we know your meaning Brother
You envy my advancement, and my friends: (Gloſter,
God grant we never may have need of you,
Rich. Mean time, God grants that I have need of you,
Our Brother is imprifon'd by your means,
My ſelf diſgrac'd, and the Nobility
Held in contempt, while great Promotions
Are daily given to ennoble thofe
That ſcaree fome two dayes ſince were worth a Noble.

Qu. By him that rais'd me to this carefull height,
From that contented hap which I enjoy'd,
I never did incenſe his Majeſty
Against the Duke of Clarence, but have bin
An earneſt advocate to plead for him.
My Lord you do me ſhamefull injury,
Falfely to draw me in theſe vile ſuſpects.
Rich. You may deny that you were not the mean
Of my Lord Haſtings late imprifonment.

Riv. She may my Lord, for ________
Rich. She may Lord Rivers, why who knows not ſo ?
She may do more, fir, then denying that :
She may help you to many fair preferments,
And then deny her aiding hand therein,
And lay thofe honours on your high defert.
What may ſhe not ? ſhe may, I marry may ſhe.

Riv. What marry may ſhe ?
Rich. What marry may ſhe ? Marrie with a King,
A batcheller, and a handſome ſtripling too,
I wis your Grandam had a worſer match.
Qu. My Lord of Gloſter, I have too long born
Your blunt upbraidings, and your bitter ſcoſſs :
By heaven, I will acquaint his Majeſty
Of thofe groſs taunts that oft I have endur'd.
I had rather be a Country ſervant maid
Then a great Queen, with this condition,
To be ſo baited, ſcorn'd, and ſtormed at,
Small joy have I in being England's Queen.

Enter old Queen Margaret.
Mar. And leſned be that ſmall, God I beſeech him,
Thy honour, ſtate, and feat, is due to me.
Rich. What ? threat you me with telling of the King ?
I will avouch't in preſence of the King :
I dare adventure to be ſent to th' Tower.
'Tis time to ſpeak,
My pains are quite forgot.
Margaret. Out Devil,
I do remember them too well :
Thou kill'd my Husband Henry in the Tower,
And Edward my poor Son, at Tewksbury.
Rich. E're you were Queen,
I, or your Husband King :
I was a pack-horſe in his great affairs :
A weeder out of his proud Adverfaries,
A liberal rewarder of his Friends,
To royalize his bloud, I ſpent mine own.
Margaret. I and much better bloud
Then his, or thine.

Vu 3

Rich.

515

O that your young Nobility can judge
What 'twere to lofe it, and be miferable.
They that stand high have many blafs to shake them,
And if they fall, they dafh themselves to pieces.

Rich. Good counsel marry, learn it, learn it Mar-
quis.

Dor. It touches you my Lord, as much as me.

Rich. I, and much more: but I was born so high:
Our ayerie buildeth in the Cedar's top,
And dailies with the wind, and scorns the Sun.

Mar. And turns the Sun to shade: alas, alas,
Witnes my Son now in the shade of death,
Whofe bright out-shining beams, thy cloudy wrath
Hath in eternal Darkneſs folded up.

Your ayery buildeth in our ayeries Neſt :

O God that feeth it do not suffer it,

As it is won with cloud, loft be it so,

Buc. Peace, peace for ſhame: If not for Charity.

Mar. Urge neither Charity, nor Shame to me :
Uncharitably with me have you dealt,

And ſhamefully my hopes (by you) are butcher'd,
My Charity is outrage, Life my ſhame,

And in that ſhame, fill live my forrows rage.

Buc. Have done, have done,

Mar. Princely Buckingham, I'le kifs thy hand,
In fign of League and amity with thee :

Now fair befall thee, and thy Noble houſe :

Thy Garments are not ſpotted with our bloud

Nor thou within the compaſs of my curſe.

Buc. Nor no one here : for Curſes never pafs

The lips of thofe that breathe them in the air.

Mar. I will not think but they ascend the sky,

And there awake God's gentle flying peace.

O Buckingham, take heed of yonder Dog :

Look when he fawns, he bites; and when he bites,

His venom Tooth will rangle to the death :

Have not to do with him, beware of him,

Sin, death, and hell have ſet their marks on him,

And all their Minifter attend on him.

Rich. What doth the ſay, my Lord of Buckingham?

Buc. Nothing that I reſpect my gracious Lord.

Mar. What doth thou ſoak me

For my gentle counſel?

And foot the Devil that I warn thee from.

O but remember this another day :

When he ſhall split thy very heart with ſorrow :

And ſay (poor Margaret) was a Prophetefle :

Live each of you the ſubjects to his hate,

And he to yours, and, all of you to Gods, Exit.

Buc. My hair doth ſtand an end to hear her curſes.

Riv. And ſo doth mine, I mufe why ſhe's at liberty.

Rich. I cannot blame her, by God's holy Mother,

She hath had too much wrong, and I repent

My part thereof, that I have done to her.

Der. I never did her any to my knowledge.

Rich. Yet you have all the vantage of her wrong :

I was too hot, to do ſome body good,

That is too cold in thinking of it now :

Marry as for Clarence, he is well repayed :

He is frank'd up to fatting for his pains,

God pardon them that are the caufe thereof.

Riv. A virtuous, and a Chriſtian-like conclusion :

To pray for them that have done ſcath to us.

Rich. So do I ever, being well adviſ'd.

Speaks to himself.

For had I curſt now, I had curſt my ſelf.

Enter Catesby.

Cateſ. Madam, his Majefly doth call for you,
And for your Grace, and yours my gracious Lord,

Qu. Catesby I come, Lords will you go with me ?

Rive. We wait upon your Grace.

Exeunt all but Gloſter.

Rich. I do thee wrong, and firſt begin to brawl.
The ſecret miſehiefs that I ſet a-broach,

I lay unto the grievous charge of others.

Clarence, whom I indeed have caſt in darkneſs,

I do beweep to many ſimple Gulls,

Namely to Derby, Haffings, Buckingham,

And tell them 'tis the Queen, and her Allies,

That fire the King against the Duke my Brother.

Now they believe it, and withall wher me

To be reveng'd on Rivers, Dorſet, Grey.

But then I ſigh, and with a piece of Scripture,

Tell them that God bids us do good for evil :

And thus I cloath my naked Villany

With odde old ends, rol' n forth of holy Writ,

And ſeem a Saint, when moſt I play the Devil.

Enter two Murtherers.

But loſt, here come my Executioners,

How now my hardy ſout refolved Mates,

Are you now going to dispatch this thing?

Vill. We are my Lord, and come to have the Warrant,
That we may be admitted where he is.

Rich. Well thought upon, I have it here about me :
When you have done, repair to Crosby Place :

But ſis be ſudden in the execution,

Withall obdurate, do not hear him plead ;

For Clarence is well ſpoken, and perhaps

May move your hearts to pitie, if you mark him.

Vill. Tut, tut, my Lord, we will not ſtand to prate,
Talkers are no good doctors, be aſſur'd :

We go to uſe our hands, and not our tongues.

Rich. Your eyes drop Mill-stones, when Fools eyes
fall Teares,

I like you Lads, about your buſineſs ſtraight.

Go, go, diſpatch.

Vill. We will my Noble Lord.

Exeunt.

## Scena Quarta.

Enter Clarence and Keeper.

Keep. Why looks your Grace so heavily ?

Cla. O, I have paſt a miferable night,

So full of fearfull Dreams, of ugly fights,

That as I am a Chriſtian faithfull man,

I would not ſpend another ſuch a night.

Though 'twere to buy a world of happy dayes :

So full of diſmall terour was the time,

Kee. What was your dream, my Lord, I pray you tel me,

Cla. Me thoughts that I had broken from the Tower,

And was embark'd to croſs to Burgundy,

And in my company my Brother Gloſter,

Who from my Cabin tempted me to walk,

Upon the Hatches: There we look'd toward England,

And cited up a thousand heavy times,

During

516

During the Warres of York and Lancaster
That had befall'n us. As he pac'd along
Upon the giddy footing of the Hatches,
Me thought that Glofter flumbled, and in falling
Strook me (that thought to ftay him) over-board,
Into the tumbling billows of the main.
O Lord, me thought what pain it was to drown,
What dreadfull noife of water in mine eares,
What fights of ugly death within mine eyes,
Me thoughts, I faw a thouand fearfull wracks :
A thouand men that fithes gnaw'd upon :
Wedges of Gold, great Anchors, heaps of Pearl,
Inſtimable Stones, unvalued Jewels,
All scattered in the bottom of the Sea :
Some lay in dead-men's Sculls, and in the holes
Where eyes did once inhabit, there were crept
(As'twere in ſcorn of Eyes) reflecting Gemmes,
That woo'd the flimy bottom of the deep,
And mock'd the dead bones that lay ſcattered by.

*Keep.* Had you fuch leifure in the time of death,
To gaze upon theſe ſeerets of the deep ?

*Cla.* Me thought I had, and often did I strive
To yield the Ghoſt: but fill the envious Floud
Stop'd in my foul, and would not let it forth
To find the empty, vaſt, and wand'ring air ;
But ſnother'd it within my panting bulk,
Who almoſt burſt, to behech it in the Sea.

*Keep.* Awak'd you not in this ſore Agony ?

*Clar.* No, no, my dream was lengthen'd after life.
O then, began the Tempeſt to my Soul,
I paſt (me thought) the Melancholy ſloud,
With that ſowre Ferry-man which Poets write of,
Unto the Kingdome of perpetual Night.
The firſt that there did greet my Stranger ſoul,
Was my great Father-in-law renowned *Warmick*,
Who ſpake alowd: What ſcourge for Perjury,
Can this dark Monarchy afford falſe *Clarence* ?
And fo he vanifh'd. Then came wand'ring by,
A Shadow like an Angel, with bright hair
Dabbl'd in ſloud, and he ſhriek'd out aloud
*Clarence* is come, falſe, fleeting, perjur'd *Clarence*,
That ſtabb'd me in the field by *Tewksbury*:
Seize on him Furies, take him unto torment.
With that (me thought) a Legion of foul Fiends
Inviron'd me, and howled in mine eares
Such hideous cryes, that with the very Noife,
I (trebling) wak'd, and for a ſeafon after,
Could not believe, but that I was in Hell,
Such terrible Imprefſion made my Dream.

*Keep.* No marvel, Lord, though it affrighted you,
I am afraid (me thinks) to hear you tell it.

*Cla.* Ah Keeper, Keeper, I have done theſe things
(That now give evidence againſt my Soul)
For Edward's ſake, and ſee how he requites me.
O God ! if my deep prayers cannot appeaſe thee,
But thou wile be aveng'd on my miſdeeds,
Yet execute thy wrath in me alone :
O spare my guiltleſs Wife, and my poor children,
Keeper, I prethee fit by me a while,
My foul is heavy, and I fain would ſleep.

*Keep.* I wil my Lord, God give your Grace good reſt.

*Enter Brakenbury the Lieutenan*

*Bra.* Sorrow breaks Seaſons, and repofing honres,
Makes the Night Morning, and the Noon-tide Night:

Princes have but their Titles for their Glories,
An outward Honour, for an inward Toil,
And for unſelt Imaginations
They often feel a world of reſtleſs Cares :
So that between their Titles, and low name,
There's nothing differs but the outward Fame.

*Enter two Murtherers.*

1. *Mur.* Ho, who's here ?

*Bra.* What would'ſt thou Fellow ? And how can'ſt
thou hither ?

2. *Mur.* I would ſpeak with *Clarence*, and I came hither on my Legges.

*Bra.* What to brief ?

1. 'Tis better (fir) then to be tedious:
Let him fee our Comſtiffion, and talk no more.
*Reads.*

*Bra.* I am in this, commanded to deliver
The Noble Duke of *Clarence* to your hands,
I will not reaſon what is meant hereby,
Because I will be guiltleſſ from the meaning,
There lies the Duke aſſleep, and there the Keyes.
I'le to the King, and ſignify to him,
That thus I have reſign'd to you my charge.

1. You may, fir, tis a point of wifedome :
Fare you well.

2. What, ſhall we ſtab him as he ſleeps ?

1. No: he'll ſay 'twas done cowardly, when he wakes.
2. Why he ſhall never wake, until the great J udgement day.

1. Why then he'll ſay, we ſtab'd him ſleeping.

2. The urging of that word Judgement, hath bred a
kind of remorſe in me.

1. What ? art thou afraid ?

2. Not to kill him, haying a Warrant.
But to be damn'd for killing him, from the which
No Warrant can defend me.

1. I thought thou had'ſt bin refolument.

2. So I am, to let him live.

1. I'le back to the Duke of Gloſter, and tell him fo.

2. Nay, prethee ſtay a little :
I hope this paſſionate humor of mine, will change,
It was wont to hold me but while one tells twenty.

1. How do'ſt thou feel thy ſelf now ?

2. Some certain dreggs of Conſcience are yet within
me.

1. Remember the Reward, when the deed's done.

2. Come, he dies: I had forgot the Reward.

1. Where's thy Conſcience now ?

2. O, in the Duke of Gloſter's purſe.

1. When he opens his purſe to give us our Reward,
thy Conſcience flies out,
2. 'Tis no matter, let it go: there's ſew or none will
entertain it.

1. What if it come to thee again ?

2. I'le not meddle with it, it makes a man a Coward:
A man cannot ſteal, but it accuſeth him: A man cannot
Swear, but it Checks him: A man cannot lie with his
Neighbour's Wife, but it deteſs him. 'Tis a bluſhing
flameſac'd ſpirit, that mutinies in a man's boſome: It
fills a man full of Obſtacles. It made me once reſtore a
Purſe of Gold that (by chance) I found: It beggars any
man that keeps it: It is turn'd out of towns and Ci-
ties for a dangerous thing, and every man that means to
live well, endeavours to truſt to himſelf, and live with-
out it.

'Tis

518

2. *Mur.* I would he knew that I had fav'd his brother;
Take thou the Fee, and tell him what I say,
For I repent me that the Duke is flain.

Exit.

1. *Mur.* So do not I: go Coward as thou art.
Well, I'le go hide the body in fome hole,
'Till that the Duke give order for his burial:
And when I have my need, I will away;
For this will out, and then I muft not flay

Exit.

Actus Secundus. Scena Prima.

Flourish.

Enter the King sick, the Queen, Lord Marqueſs,
Dorſet, Rivers, Haſtings, Catesby,
Buckingham, Woodvill.

King. Why so : now have I done a good dayes work.
You Peers, continue this united League :
I, every day expect an Embaffage
From my Redeemer, to redeem me hence,
And more to peace my foul ſhall part to heaven,
Since I have made my Friends at peace on earth,
Dorſet and Rivers, take each others hand,
Diffemble not your hatred, Swear your love,

Riv. By heaven, my foul is purg'd from bearing hate,
And with my hand I feal my true heart's-Love.

Haſt. So thrive I, as I truly ſwear the like.

King. Take heed you daily not before your King,
Left he that is the ſupreme King of kings
Confound your hidden falſhood, and award
Either of you to be the others end.

Haſt. So prosper I, as I ſwear perfect love.

Rivers. And I, as I love Haſtings with my heart.

King. Madam, your ſelf is not exempt from this :

Nor you ſon Dorſet, Buckingham nor you;

You have been factious one againſt the other.

Wife, love Lord Haſtings, let him kifs your hand,

And what you do, do it unfeignedly.

Queen. There Haſtings, I will never more remember
Our former hatred, fo thrive I, and mine.

King. Dorſet, embrace him:

Haſtings, love Lord Marqueſs.

Dor. This interchange of love, I here proteſt

Upon my part, ſhall be inviolable.

Haſt. And fo ſwear I.

King. Now Princely Buckingham, feal thou this league
With thy embracements to my wives Allies,

And make me happy in your unity.

Buc. When ever Buckingham doth turn his hate
Upon your Grace, but with all dutious love,
Doth cheriſh you and yours, God puniſh me
With hate in that where I expect moſt love,
When I have moſt need to imploy a Friend,
And moſt affuſed that he is a Friend,
Deep, hollow, treacherous, and full of guile,
Be he unto me: this do I beg of Heaven,
When I am cold in love, to you, or yours.

Embrace.

King. A pleasing Cordial, Princely Buckingham
Is this thy Vow, unto my ſickly heart.
There wanteth now our brother Gloſter here,
To make the bleſſed period of this peace.

Buc. And in good time,

Here comes Sir Richard Rutcliff, and the Duke,

Enter Ratcliff, and Gloſter.

Rich. Good morrow to my Soveraign King and Queen,
And Princely Peers, a happy time of day.

King. Happy indeed, as we have spent the day :
Gloſter, we have done deeds of Charity,
Made peace of Enmity, fair love of Hate,
Between the ſwelling wrong incenſed Peers.

Rich. A bleſſed labour my moſt Soveraign Lord :
Among this Princely heap, if any here
By falſe intelligence, or wrong ſurmiſe
Hold me a Foe: if I unwillingly, or in my rage,
Have ought committed that is hardly born,
To any in this prefence, I defire

To reconcile me to his friendly peace :

Tis death to me to be at Enmity :
I hate it, and defire all good men's love,
Firſt Madam, I intreat true peace of you,
Which I will purchase with my dutious ſervice,
Of you my Noble Cousin, Buckingham,
If ever any grudge were lodg'd between us.
Of you and you, Lord Rivers and of Dorſet,
That all without defert have frown'd on me :
Of you Lord Woodvill, and Lord Scales of you,
Dukes, Earls, Lords, Gentlemen, indeed of all,
I do not know that Englishman alive,

With whom my foul is any jot at odds,
More then the infant that is born to night:
I thank my God for my Humility.

Queen. A holy day ſhall this be kept hereafter :
I would to God all ſtrifes were well compounded.
My Soveraign Lord, I do beſeeth your Highneſs
To take our brother Clarence to your Grace.

Rich. Why Madam, have I off'red love for this,
To be ſo floutred in this Royal prefence ?
Who knows not that the gentle Duke is dead ?
You do him injury to (con this Coarſe.

They all start.

King. Who knows not he is dead ?

Who knows he is ?

Queen. All-feeling Heaven, what a world is this ?

Buc. Look I ſo pale Lord Dorſet, as the reſt ?

Dor. I my good Lord, and no man in the prefence,
But his red colour hath forſook his cheeks.

King. Is Clarene dead? The order was revers't.

Rich. But he (poor man) by your firſt order dyed,
And that a winged Mercury did bear:

Some tardy Cripple bare the Countermand,
That come too lagge to fee him buried.

God grant, that ſome leſs Noble, and leſs Loyal,
Nearer in bloudy thoughts, and not in bloud,
Deſerve no worſe then wretched Clarendon did,
And yet go curranr from ſuſpicion.

Enter Earl of Derby.

Derb. A boon my Soveraign for my ſervice done,

King. I prethee peace, my foul is full of forrow.

Derb. I will not rife, unleſſs your Highneſs hear me.

King. Then ſay at once, what is it thou requeſt?

Derb. The forfeit (Soveraign) of my ſervants life,
Who flew to day a Riotous Gentleman,
Laely attendant on the Duke of Norfolk.

King. Have I a tongue to doom my Brothers death ?
And ſhall that tongue give pardon to a ſlave ?

My brother kill'd no man, his fault was Thought,
And yet his puniſhment was bitter death.

Who

519

Who fued to me for him? Who (in my wrath)
Kneel'd at my feet; and bid me be advis'd?
Who (spoke of Brotherhood ? who spoke in love ?
Who told me how the poor foul did forfake
The mighty Warwick, and did fight for me :
Who told me in the Field at Tewksbury,
When Oxford had me down, he refued me :
And faid, dear Brother live, and be a King ?
Who told me, when we both lay in the Field,
Frozen (almoit) to death, how he did lap me
Even in his Garments, and did give himfelf
(Ail thin and naked) to the numme cold night?
All this from my Remembrance, bruitifh wrath
Sinfully pluckt, and not a man of you
Had to much grace to put it in my mind,
But when your Carteis, or your waiting Vafals
Have done a drunken flaugether, and defac'd
The precious image of our dear Redeemer,
You straight are on your knees for Pardon, pardon,
And I (unjustly too) nuft grant it you,
But for my Brother, not a man would speak,
Nor I (ungracious) speak unto my felf
For him poor Soul. The proudeft of you all,
Have been beholding to him in his life :
Yet none of you, would once beg for his life.
O God ! I fear thy juſtice will take hold
On me, and you ; and mine, and yours for this,
Come Haſtings help me to my Cloſet.
Ah poor Clarence. Exeunt fome with K. and Queen.
Rich. This is the fruits of rafhneſs : Markt you not,
How that the Kindred of the Queen
Look'd pale, when they did hear of Clarence death ?
O they did urge it ſtill unto the King,
God will revenge it. Come Lords will you go.
To comfort Edward with our company ?
Buc. We wait upon your Grace. Exeunt.

## Scena Secunda...

Enter the old Duchess of York, with the two children of Clarence.

Edw. Good Grandam tell us, is our Father dead?
Duch. No Boy.
Daugh. Why do you weep so oft? and beat your Breast?
And cry, O Clarence, my unhappy Son ?
Boy. Why do you look on us, and flake your head,
And call us Orphans, Wretches, Caftawayes,
If that our Noble Father were alive ?
Duc. My pretty Couſins, you miftake me both,
I do lament the fickneſs of the King,
As loath to loſe him, not your Father's death :
It were loſt forrow to wail one that's loſt.
Boy. Then you conclude (my Grandam) he is dead :
The King mine Uncle is to blame for it.
God will revenge it, whom I will importune
With earneſt prayers, all to that effect.
Daugh. And so will I.
Duc. Peace children, peace: the King doth love you well.
Incapable and ſhallow Innocents,
You cannot gueſe who caus'd your Fathers death.
Boy. Giandam we can : for my good Uncle Gloſter

Told me, the King provok'd to it by the Queen,
Devis'd impeachments to imprifon him;
And when my Uncle told me so, he wept,
And picted me, and kindly kift my cheek :
Bad me rely on him, as on my Father,
And he would love me dearly as a child.

Duc. Ah ! that Deceit ſhould feal fuch gentle ſhape,
And with a virtuouſ Vizor hide deep Vice.
He is my ſon, I, and therein my ſhame,
Yet from my dugges, he drew not this deceit.
Boy. Think you my Uncle did diſſemble Grandam ?
Duc. I Boy.
Boy. I cannot think it, Harke, what noise is this?

Enter the Queen with her hair about her ears,
Rivers and Dorſet after her.

Queen. Ah ! who ſhall hinder me to wail and weep ?
To hide my Fortune, and torment my ſelf,
I'le joyn with black deſpair againſt my Soul,
And to my ſelf become an enemie.
Duc. What means this Scene of rude impatience ?
Queen. To make an act of Tragick violence,
Edward my Lord, thy Son, our King is dead.
Why grow the Branches, when the Root is gone ?
Why wither not the leaves that want their ſap ?
If you will live, Lament : if dye, be brief,
That our ſwift-winged Soules may catch the King's,
Or like obedient Subjeſts follow him,
To his new Kingdome of ne're-changing night.

Duc. Ah, so much intereſt have I in thy ſorrow,
As I had Title to thy Noble Husband :
I have bewept a worthy Husband's death,
And liv'd with looking on his Images :
But now two Mirrors of his Princely ſemblance,
Are crack'd in pieces, by malignant death,
And I for comfort, have but one false Glafs,
That grieves me, when I fee my ſhame in him.
Thou art a Widow : yet thou art a Mother,
And haſt the comfort of thy Children left,
But death hath ſnatch'd my Husband from mines armes,
And pluckt two Crutches from my feeble hands,
Clarence, and Edward. O, what cauſe have I,
(Thine being but a moity of my moan)
To over-go thy woes, and drown my cries.

Boy. Ah Aunt ! you wept not for your Fathers death :
How can we aid you with our Kindred teares ?
Daugh. Our fatherleſs diſtrefſ was left unmoan'd,
Your Widow-dolour: likewise be unwegt.
Queen. Give me no help in Lamentation,
I am not barren to bring forth Complaints :
All Springs reduce their currents to mine eyes,
That I being govern'd by the waterie Moon,
May ſend forth plenteous tears to drown the World,
Ah, for my Husband, for my dear Lord Edward.
Chil. Ah for our Father, for our dear Lord Clarence.
Duc. Alas for both, both mine Edward and Clarence.
Queen. What ſtay had I but Edward ? and he's gone.
Chil. What ſtay had we but Clarence ? and he's gone.
Duc. What ſtayes had I but they ? and they are gone,
Queen. Was never widow had so dear a loſs.
Chil. Were never Orphans had so dear a loſs.
Duc. Was never Mother had so dear a loſs.

Alas ! I am the Mother of theſe Griefs.
Their woeſ are parcell'd, mine is general.
She for an Edward weeps, and ſo do I :

I for a Clarence weep, so doth not fhe ;
Thefe Babes for Clarence weep, so do not they.

Alas ! you three, on me threefold diffreft :
Pour all your teares, I am your forrows Nurfe,
And I will pamper it with Lamentation.

Dor. Comfort dear Mother, God is much difpleas'd,
That you take with unthankfulneſs his doing.
In common worldly things 'tis call'd ungratefull,
With dull unwillingneſs to repay a debt,
Which with a bounteous hand was kindly lent :
Much more to be thus oppofite with heaven,
For it requires the Royal debt it lent you,

Rivers. Madam, bethink you like a careful Mother
Of the young Prince your fon: ſend ſtraight for him,
Let him be Crown'd, in him your comfort lives.
Drown desperate forrow in dead Edward's grave,
And plant your joyes in living Edward's Throne.

Enter Richard, Buckingham, Derby, Haffings, and Ratcliff.

Rich. Sifter have comfort, all of us have caufe
To wail the dimming of our thining Star :
But none can help our harms by wailing them.
Madam, my Mother, I do cry you mercy,
I did not fee your Grace. Humbly on my knee,
I crave your Bleſſing.

Duc. God bleſſeth thee, and put meekneſs in thy breaſt,
Love, Charity, Obedience, and true Dute.

Rich. Amen, and make me die a good old man,
That is the butt end of a Mother's bleſſing ;
I marvel that her Grace did leave it out.

Buc. You cloudy-Princes, and heart-forrowing-Peers,
That bear this heavy mutual load of Moan,
Now cheer each other, in each other's Love :
Though we have ſpent our Harveſt of this King,
We are to reap the harveſt of his Son.
The broken rancour of your high-ſwoln hates,
But lately ſplintred, knit, and joyn'd together,
Muſt gently be preferv'd, cheriſht, and kept :
Me feemeth good, that with ſome little Train,
Forthwith from Ludlow, the young Prince be ſet
Hither to London, to be crown'd our King.

Rivers. Why with ſome little Train,
My Lord of Buckingham ?

Buc. Marry my Lord, left by a multitude
The new-heaſt wound of Malice should break out,
Which would be ſo much the more dangerous,
By how much the cſtate is green, and yet ungovern'd.
Where every Horſe beares his commanding Rein,
And may direct his course as pleafe himſelf,
As well the fear of harm, as harm apparent,
In my opinion, ought to be prevented.

Rich. I hope the King made peace with all of us,
And the compaſt is firm, and true in me.

Rivers. And ſo in me, and ſo (I think) in all,
Yet ſince it is but green, it should be put
To no apparent likelyhood of breach,
Which haply by much company might be urg'd :
Therefore I lay with Noble Buckingham,
That it is meet ſo few ſhould fetch the Prince.

Haſt. And ſo lay I.

Rich. Then be it ſo, and go we to determine
Who they ſhall be that ſtraight ſhall poffe to London.
Madam, and you my Sifter, will you go
To give your cenſures in this buſineſs ?

Manent Buckingham, and Richard,
Buck. My Lord, whoever journies to the Prince,
For God's ſake let not us two ſlay at home :
For by the way, I'le fort occafion,
As Index to the ſtory we late talk'd of,
To part the Queen's proud Kindred from the Prince.
Rich. My other ſelf, my Counſel's Conſiſtory,
My Oracle, my Prophet, my dear Couſin,
I, as a child, will go by thy direction,
Toward London then, for we'll not ſlay behind Exeunt.

## Scena Tertia.

Enter one Citizen at one door, and another at the other.

1. Cit. Good morrow Neighbour, whither away ſo faſt ?

2. Cit. I promife you I hardly know my ſelf:
Hear you the Newes abroad ?

1. Yes, the King is dead.

2. Ill newes byrſady, ſeldome comes the better :
I fear, I fear, 'twill prove a giddy world.

Enter another Citizen.

3. Neighbors, God ſpeed.

1. Give you good morrow fir.

3. Doth the newes hold of good King Edward's death ?

2. I ſir, it is too true, God help the while.

3. Then Maſters ſook to fee a troublous world.

1. No, no, by God's good grace, his Son ſhall reign.

3. Woe to that Land that's govern'd by a Child.

2. In him there is a hope of Government.

Which in his non-age, Counſel under him,
And in his full and ripened yeares, himſelf
No doubt ſhall then, and 'till then govern well.

1. So ſood the ſtate when Henry the fixth
Was crown'd in Paris, but at nine months old.

3. Stood the State ſo ? No, no, good friends, God wot;
For then this Land was famouſly enrich'd
With politick grave Counſel; then the King
Had virtuous Uncles to protec't his Grace.

1. Why ſo hath this, both by his Father and Mother,
3. Better it were they all came by his Father.

Or by his Father there were none at all :
For emulation, who ſhall now be neareſt,
Will touch us all too near, if God prevent not.
O full of danger is the Duke of Gloſter,

And the Queen's Sons, and Brothers, haught and proud :
And were they to be rul'd, and not to rule,
This ſickly Land, might ſolace as before.

1. Come, come, we fear the worſt : all will be well.

3. When Clouds are ſeen, wifemen put on their cloaks ;
When great leaves fall, then Winter is at hand ;

When the Sun ſets, who doth not look for night?
Untimely ſtormes, make men expeſt a Dearth :

All may be well ; but if God ſort it ſo,
'Tis more then we deferve, or I expeſt.

2. Truly, the hearts of men are full of fear :
You cannot reaſon (almost) with a man,
That looks not heavily, and full of dread.

3. Before the dayes of Change, ſtill is it ſo,
By a divine inſtinet, men's minds miſtraſt

Enſuing

521

Purging danger : as by proof we ice

The Water swell before a boyt'rous frown :

But leave it all to God, Whither away ?

2. Marry we were fent for to the Justices.

3. And I was I: I'le bear you company.

Exeunt.

## Scena Quarta.

Enter Arch-Bishop, young Tork, the Queen, and the Dutchefie.

Arch. Last night I heard they lay at Stany Stratford,
And at Northampton they do rest to night :

To morrow, or next day, they will be here.

Dut. I long withall my heart to fee the Prince:
I hope he is much grown since last I faw him.

Qu. But I hear no, they fay my fon of Tork

H's almost overtane him in his growth.

Tor. I mother, but I would not have it so.

Dut. Why, my good Coufin, it is good to grow,

Tork, Grandam, one night as we did fit at fupper,

My Unkle Rivers talk'd how I did grow

More then my Brother, I, quoth my Unkle Glofter,

Small Herbs have grace, great Weeds do grow apace.

And since, me thinks I would not grow so faft,

Because sweet Flowers are flow, and Weeds make half.

Dut. Good faith, good faith, the faying did not hold
In him that did object the fame to thee.

He was the wretched fit thing when he was young,

So long a growing, and so leifurely,

That if his rule were true, he should be gracious.

Tor. And fono doubt he is, my gracious Madam.

Dut. I hope he is, but yet let Mothers doubt.

Tor. Now by my troth, if I had been remembred,

I could have given my Unkles Grace, a flour,

To touch his growth, nearer then he touch'd mine.

Dut. How, my young Tork,

I prethee let me hear it.

Tor. Marry (they fay) my Unkle grew so faft,

That he could gnaw a cruft at two hours old,

Twas full two years ere I could get a tooth.

Grandam, this would have been a biting Jeff.

Dut. I prethee, pretty Tork, who told thee this ?

Tor. Grandam, his Nurfe.

Dut. His Nurfe, why she was dead, ere thou waft born.

Tor. If't were not fhe, I cannot tell who told me.

Qu. A parlous Boy: go to, you are too fhetw'd.

Dut. Good Madam, be not angry with a Child.

Qu. Pitchers have ears.

Enter a Meſſenger.

Arch. Here comes a Meſſenger: What News?

Mef. Such news my Lord, as grieves me to report.

Qu. How doth the Prince?

Mef. Well Madam, and in health.

Dut. What is thy News?

Mef. Lord Rivers, and Lord Grey,

Are lent to Pomfret, and with them,

Sir Thomas Vaughan, Prifoners.

Dut. Who hath committed them ?

Mef. The mighty Dukes, Glofter and Buckingham.

Arch. For what offence?

Mef. The fum of all I can, I have disclos'd:
Why, or for what, the Nobles were committed,
Is all unknown to me, my gracious Lord.

Qu. Aye me! I fee the ruine of my Houſe:
The Tiger now hath feiz'd the gentle Hinde,
Influting Tyranny begins to Jut

Upon the innocent and aweleſſe Throne:
Welcome Deftruction, Bloud, and Maffacre,
I fee (as in a Map) the end of all.

Dut. Accurfed, and unquiet wrangling dayes,
How many of you have mine eyes beheld;
My Husband loft his life, to get the Crown,
And often up and down my fons were toſt,
For me to joy, and weep, their gain and loffe.

And being teated, and Domeſtick broyls

Clean over-blown, themselves (the Conquerers.)

Make war upon themselves, Brother to Brother ;

Bloud to bloud; ſelf againſt ſelf: O prepoſterous

And frantick outrage I end thy damned iſteen,

Or let me die, to look on earth no more.

Qu. Come, come, my Boy, we will to Sanctuary.
Madam, farewell.

Dut. Stay, I will go with you.

Qu. You have no caufe.

Arch. My gracious Lady, go,

And thicher bear your Treafure and your Goods,

For my part, I'le reſign unto your Grace

The Seal I keep, and so betide it me,

As well I tender you, and all of yours.

Go, I'le conduct you to the Sanctuary.

Exeunt.

## Altus Tertius. Scena Prima.

The Trumpets found.

Enter young Prince, the Dukes of Glofter and Bucking-
ham, Lord Cardinal, with others.

Buc. Welcome sweet Prince to London,

To your Chamber.

Rich. Welcome dear Cofin, my thoughts Soveraign
The weary way hath made you Melancholly.

Prin. No Unkle, but our croffes on the way,
Have made it tedious, Wearisome and heavy.

I want more Unkles here to welcome me.

Rich. Sweet Prince, the untainted vertue of your years

Hath not yet div'd into the Worlds deceit:

No more can you diſtinguish of a man,

Then of his outward ſhow, which God he knows,

Seldome or never jumpeth with the heart.

Thofe Unkles which you want, were dangerous :

Your grace attended to their Sugred words,

But look'd not on the poifon of their hearts:

God keep you from them, and from ſuch falſe Friends.

Prin. God keep me from falſe Friends,
But they were none.

Rich. My Lord, the Major of London comes to greet
you.

Enter Lord Major.

Lo. Major. God bleſſe your Grace, with health and
happy dayes.

Prin. I thank you, good my Lord, and thank you all:

Xx

I

522

I thought my Mother, and my Brother *York*,
Would long, ere this, have met us on the way.
Fie, what a Slug is *Haftings*, that he comes not
To tell us, whether they will come, or no.

*Enter Lord Haftings.*

*Back.* And in good time, here comes the sweating
Lord.

*Prince.* Welcome, my Lord: what, will our Mother
come?

*Haft.* On what occasion God he knows, not I,
The Queen your Mother, and your Brother *York*,
Have taken Sanctuary: The tender Prince
Would fain have come with me, to meet your Grace,
But by his mother was perforce with-held.

*Buc.* Fie, what an indirect and peevish courfe
Is this of hers? Lord Cardinal will your Grace
Periwade the Queen, to fend the Duke of *York*
Unto his Princely Brother presently ?
If the deny, Lord *Haftings* you go with him,
And from her jealous armies pluck him perforce.

*Car.* My Lord of *Buckingham*, if my weak Oratory
Can from his Mother win the Duke of *York*,
Anon expect him here: but if she be obdurate
To mild entreaties, God forbid
We should infinge the holy Privilege
Of bleffed Sanctuary: not for all this Land,
Would I be guilty of so great a fin.

*Buc.* You are too fenceleſſe obſtinate, my Lord,
Too ceremonious, and traditional.
Weigh it but with the groſſenefle of this Age,
You break not Sanctuary, in feizing him:
The benefit thereof is always granted
To thofe, whoſe dealings have deferv'd the place,
And thofe who have the wit to claim the place:
This Prince hath neither claim'd it, nor deferv'd it,
Therefore, in mine opinion, cannot have it.
Then taking him from thence, that is not there,
You break no Privilege, nor Charter there:
Oft have I heard of fanſtuary men,
But Sanctuary children, ne're till now.

*Car.* My Lord, you ſhall o're-rule my mind for once.
Come on, Lord *Haftings*, will you go with me ?

*Haft.* I go my Lord. *Exit Cardinal and Haftings.*
*Prin.* Good Lords, make all the ſpeedy haſt you may.
Say, Unkle Gloeſſer, if our Brother come,
Where ſhall we ſojorn, till our Coronation ?

*Glo.* Where it think't beſt unto your Royal ſelf.
If I may counſell you, ſome day or two
Your Highneſſe shall repoſe you at the Tower:
Then where you pleafe, and ſhall be thought moſt fit
For your beſt health, and recreation.
*Prin.* I do not like the Tower of any place:
Did *Julius Caſar* build that place, my Lord ?
*Buc.* He did, my gracious Lord, begin that place,
Which ſince, ſucceeding Ages, have re-edify'd:
*Prin.* It is upon record ? or else reported
Succesſively from age to age, he built it ?
*Buc.* Upon record, my gracious Lord.
*Prin.* But ſay, my Lord, it were not regiſtred,
Me thinks the truth I ſhould live from age to age,
As 'twere retail'd to all poſterity,
Even to the general ending day.

*Glo.* So wife, ſo young, they ſay do never live long.
*Prin.* What ſay you, Unkle ?

*Glo.* I ſay, without Characters, Fame lives long.
Thus, like the formal Vice, Iniquity,
I moralize two meanings in one word.
*Prin.* That *Julius Caſar* was a famous man;
With what his Valour did enrich his wit,
His Wif ſet down, to make his Valour live:
Death makes no Conqueſt of his Conqueror,
For now he lives in Fame, though not in Life.
Ile tell you what, Couſin, *Buckingham*.

*Buc.* What, my gracious Lord ?
*Prin.* And if I live untill I be a man,
Ile win our ancient name in *Buckingham* again,
Or die a Shouldier, as I liv'd a King.

*Glo.* Short Summers lightly have a forward Spring.
*Enter young *York*, *Haftings*, and *Cardinal*.*

*Buck.* Now in good time, here comes the Duke of
*York*:
*Prince. Richard of *York*, how fares our Noble Bro-
ther?

*Tor.* Well, my dear Lord, so muſt I call you now.
*Prin.* I, Brother, to our grief as it is yours:
Too late he dy'd, that might have kept that Title,
Which by his death hath loft much Maſety.

*Glo.* How ſares our Couſin, Noble Lord of *York*?

*Tor.* I thank you, gentle *Unkle*. O my Lord,
You ſaid, that idle Weeds are ſaſt in growth:
The Prince my Brother, hath outgrown me far.

*Glo.* He hath, my Lord.

*Tor.* And therefore is he idle.

*Glo.* Oh my fair Couſin, I muſt noſ ſay fo.

*Tor.* Then he is more beholding to you, then I.

*Glo.* He may command me as my Soveraign,
But you have power in me, as in a Kinaſman.

*Tor.* I pray you, *Unkle*, give me this Dagger.

*Glo.* My Dagger, little Couſin ? with all my heart.

*Prin.* A Beggar, Brother ?

*Tor.* Of my kind *Unkle*, that I know will give,
And being a Toy, it is no grief to give.

*Glo.* A greater gift then that, I'le give my Couſin.

*Tor.* A greater gift ? O, that's the Sword to it.

*Glo.* I, gentle Couſin, were it light enough.

*Tor.* O then I ſee, you will part but with light gifts,
In weightier things you'll ſay a Begger nay.

*Glo.* It is too weighty for your Grace to wear.

*Tor.* I wegh it lightly, were it heavier.

*Glo.* What, would you have my Weapon, little Lord?

*Tor.* I would that I might thank you, as you call
me,

*Glo.* How ?

*Tor.* Little.

*Prin.* My Lord of *York* will ever be croſſe in talk:
*Unkle*, your Grace knows how to bear with him.

*Tor.* You mean to bear me, not to bear with me;
*Unkle*, my Brother mocks both you and me,
Because that I am little, like an Ape,

He thinks that you ſhould bear me on your ſhoulders.

*Buc.* With what a ſharp provided wit he reaſons:
To mitigate the ſcorn he gives his *Unkle*,
He prettily, and aptely taunts himſelf:
So cunning, and ſo young, is wenderfull.

*Glo.* My Lord, wilt pleafe you paffe along ?
My ſelf, and my good Couſin *Buckingham*,
Will to your Mother, to entreat of her
To meet you at the Tower, and welcome you.

*Tor.* What

523

Tor. What, will you go unto the Tower my Lord ?
Prin. My Lord Protector will have it so.
Tor. I shall not sleep in quiet at the Tower.
Glo. Why, what should you fear ?
Tor. Marry, my Uncle Clarence angry Ghoft :
My Grandam told me he was murther'd there.
Prin. I fear no Uncles dead,
Glo. Nor none that live, I hope,
Prin. And if they live, I hope I need not fear.
But come my Lord: and with a heavy heart,
Thinking on them, go I unto the Tower.
Exeunt Prince, York, Hastings, and Dorset.

Manet Richard, Buckingham, and Catesby.

Buc. Think you, my Lord, this little prating York
Was not incensed by his subtle Mother,
Torant and fcorn you thus opprobriouly ?
Gloft. No doubt, no doubt: Oh, tis a perillous Boy,
Bold, quick, ingenious, forward, capable :
He is all the Mothers, from top to toe,
Buc. Well, let them reft: Come hither Catesby,
Thou art fworn as deeply to effect what we intend,
Asclepely to conceal what we impart:
Thou know't our reafons urg'd upon the way,
What think't thou ? is it not an eafe matter,
To make William Lord Hastings of our mind,
For the infallment of this Noble Duke
In the feat Royal of this famous life ?
Cates. He for his fathers take fo loves the Prince,
That he will not be won to ought againft him.
Buck. What think't thou then of Stanley ? Will not
he ?

Cates. He will do all in all as Hastings doth.
Buc. Well then, no more but this:
Go gentle Catesby, and as it were far off,
Sound thou Lord Hastings,
How he doth stand affected to our purpose,
And furmion him to morrow to the Tower,
To fit about the Coronation.
If thou do't finde him traceable to us,
Encourage him, and tell him all our reafons:
If he be laden, icy, cold, unwilling,
But thou fo too, and so break off the talk,
And give us notice of his inclination :
For we to morrow hold divided Councils,
Wherein thy felf shall highly be employ'd.
Rich. Commend me to Lord William: tell him (Catesby)
His ancient Knot of dangerous Adverfaries
Tomorrow are let bloud at Pomfret Castle,
And bid my Lord, for joy of this good news,
Give Miftefſe Shore one gentle Kiffc the more.

Buc. Good Catesby, go effect this buſineſſe foundly.
Cates. My good Lords both, with all the heed I can.
Rich. Shall we hear from you Catesby, ere we sleep ?
Cates. You ſhall, my Lord.
Rich. At Crosby Houſe there ſhall you find us both.

Exit Catesby.
Buc. Now, my Lord,
What ſhall we do, if we perceive
Lord Hastings will not yield to our Complots ?
Rich. Chop off his Head :
Something we will determine:
And look when I am King, claim thou of me
The Earldome of Hereford, and all the moveables
Whereof the King, my Brother, was poſſeſt.

Buc. I'll claim that promise at your Graces hand.
Rich. And look to have it yielded with all kindneſſe,
Come, let us up betimes, that afterwards
We may digest our compiots in ſome forme.

Exeunt.

## Scena Secunda.

Enter a Messenger to the door of Hastings.

Mef. My Lord, my Lord.

Hast. Who knocks ?

Mef. One from the Lord Stanley.

Hast. What is't a Clock ?

Mef. Upon the ftroak of four.

Enter Lord Hastings.

Hast. Cannot my Lord Stanley ſleep theſe tedious
Nights ?

Mef. So it appears by what I have to ſay,
First, he commands you to your Noble ſelf.

Hast. What then ?

Mef. Then certifies your Lordſhip, that this Night
He dreamt, the Bore had raiſed off his Helm:
Befides, he ſayes there are two Councils kept;
And that may be determ'd at the one,
Which may make you and him to rue at th'other.
Therefore he ſends to know your Lordships pleasure,
If you will prefently take Horſe with him,
And with alſt ſpeed poſt with him toward the North,
To ſhun the danger that his toil divines.

Hast. Go fellow, go return unto thy Lords,
Bid him not fear the ſeperated counſell :
His Honor and my ſelf are at the one,
And at the other is my good friend Catesby,
Where nothing can proceed, that toucheth us,
Whereof I ſhall not have inſteelligence :
Tell him his fears are ſhallow, withouſt inſtance,
And for his DREAMS, I wonder he's ſo ſimple,
To truſt the mock'ry of unquiuer ſlumbers.
To flye the Bore, before the Bore pufues,
Were to incene the Bore to follow us,
And make pufuit, where he did mean to chafe,
Go, bid thy Maſter rife, and come to me,
And we will both together to the Tower,
Where he ſhall fee the Bore will uſe us kindlſt.

Mef. I'le go, my Lord, and tell him what you ſay.

Exit.

Enter Catesby.

Cates. Many good morrows to my Noble Lord.
Hast. Good morrow Catesby, you are early stirring:
What news, what news in this our toff'ring State ?

Cates. It is a reeling World indeed, my Lord :
And I believe will never ſtand upright,
Till Riehard wear the Garland of the Realm,
Hast. How wear the Garland ?

Do't thou mean the Crown ?

Cates. I, my good Lord.
Ha. I'le have this Crown of mine cut from my shoulders,
Before I'le fee the Crown ſo foul miſ-plac'd :
But canſt thou guſſe, that he doth aim at it ?

Xx2

Cates. I,

## Scena Quarta.

Enter Buckingham, Darby, Haſtings, Bishop of Ely, Norfolk, Ratcliffe, Lovell, with others, at a Table.

Hast. Now Noble Peers, the caufe why we are met,
Is to determine of the Coronation:
In Gods Name speak, when is the Royal day?

Buc. Is all things ready for the Royal time?

Darb. It is, and wants but nomination.

Ely. To morrow then I judge a happy day.

Buc. Who knows the Lord Protectors mind herein?
Who is moſt inward with the Noble Duke?

Ely. Your Grace, we think, ſhould ſooneſt know his
minde.

Buc. We know each others Faces: for our Hearts,
He knows no more of mine, then I of yours,
Or I of his, my Lord, then you of mine.

Lord Haſtings, you and he are near in love.

Hast. I thank his Grace, I know he loves me well:
But for his purpose in the Coronation,
I have not founded him, nor he deliver'd

His gracious pleasure any way therein:

But you, my Honorable Lord, may name the time,
And in the Dukes behalf I'lle give my Voice,
Which I prefume he'll take in gentle part.

Enter Glouceſter.

Ely. In happy time here comes the Duke himself.

Rich. My Noble Lords, and Couſins all, good morrow:
I have been long a ſleeper: but I truſt,
My abſence doth neglect no great deſigne,
Which by my prefence might have been concluded.

Buc. Had you not come upon your Q, my Lord,
William, Lord Haſtings, had pronounc'd your part;
I mean your Voice, for Crowning of the King.

Rich. Then my Lord Haſtings, no man might be bolder,
His Lordship knows me well, and loves me well.

My Lord of Ely, when I was laſt in Holborn,
I law good Strawberries in your Garden there,
I do beſeech you, ſend for ſome of them.

Ely. Marry and will, my Lord, with all my heart.

Exit Bifhop.

Rich. Conſin of Buckingham, a word with you,
Catesby hath founded Haſtings in our buſineſſe,
And finds the teſtily Gentleman ſo hot,
That he will loſe his Head, ere give conſent

His Maſters Child, as worſhipfully he tearmes it,
Shall loſe the Royalty of Englands THRONE.

Buc. Withdraw your ſelf a while, I'll go with you.

Exeunt.

Dar. We have not yet ſet down this day of Triumph:
To morrow, in my judgement, is too ſudden,
For I my ſelf am not ſo well provided,
Aſſelſe I would be, were the day prolong'd.

Enter the Bifhop of Ely.

Ely. Where is my Lord, the Duke of Glofter ?
I have ſent for these Strawberries,

Ha, His Grace looks chearfully & ſmooth this morning,

There's ſome conceit or other likes him well,
When that he bids good morrow with ſuch ſpirit.
I think there's never a man in Chriſtendome
Can leſſer hide his love, or hate then he,
For by his Face ſtraight shall you know his Heart.

Darb. What of his Heart perceive you in his Face,
By any livelyhood he ſhew'd to day?

Hast. Marry that with no man here he is offenſed:
For were he, he had ſhewn it in his Looks.

Enter Richard, and Buckingham.

Rich. I pray you all, tell me what they deferſe,
That do confipre my death with diſeſiſh Plots
Of damned W itself craft, and that have prevail'd
Upon my Body with their Helliſh Charmes.

Hast. The tender love I bear your Grace, my Lord,
Makes me moſt forward, in this Princely preience,
To doom th' Offenders, whoſo're they be:

I ſay, my Lord, they have defer'd death.

Rich. Then be your eyes the witneſſe of their evill,
Look how I am bewitch'd: behold, mine Arme

Is like a blaſted Sapling, wither'd up:

And this is Edwards Wife, that monſtrous W itself,
Conſorted with that Harlot, Strumpeſt Shore,
That by their W itself craft thus have marked me.

Hast. If they have done this deed, my Noble Lord.

Rich. If ? thou Protecſor of this damned Strumpeſt,
Talk't thou to me of Iſſes; thou art a Traitor,
Off with his Head; now by Saint Paul I ſwear,
I will not dine, untill I fee the fame.

Lovell and Ratcliffe, look that it be done:
The reſt that love me, rife, and follow me.

Exeunt.

Manet Lovell and Ratcliffe, with the
Lord Haſtings.

Hast. Woe, woe for England, not a whit for me,
For I, too fond, might have prevented this:

Stanley did dream, the Boar did rowze our Helmes,
And I did ſcorn it, and diſdain to flye:

Three times to day my Foot-Cloth-Horſe did ſtumble,
And ſtarted, when he look'd upon the Tower,

As loth to bear me to the ſlaughter-houſe.

O now I need the P-iſt, that I pake to me:

I now repent I told the Purſuivant,

As too triumphing, howmine Enemies

To day at Pomſret bloudily were butcher'd,

And I my ſelf ſecure, in grace and favour.

Oh Margaret, Margaret, now thy heavy Curſe
Is lighted on poor Haſtings wretched Head.

Ra. Come, come diſpatch, 'tis bootleſe to exclaim,
Make a ſhort ſhriſt, he longs to fee your Head.

Hast. O momentaſly grace of mortal men,
Which we more hunt for, then the grace of God !
Who builds his hope in aire of your good Looks,
Lives like a drunken Sailor on a Maſt,
Ready with every Nod to tumble down,
Into the fatal Bowels of the Deep.

Lov. Come, come, diſpatch, 'tis bootleſe to exclaim,
Hast. O cloudy Richard: miſerable England,
I propheſe the ſcariſt it time to thee,
That ever wretched Age hath look'd upon.

Come, lead me to the Block, bear him my Head,
They imile at me, who shortly ſhall be dead.

Exeunt.

- X x 3 -

Enter

Enter Richard, and Buckingham, in rotten Armor
marvellous ill-favoured.

Rich. Come Coufin,
Canst thou quake, and change thy colour,
Murther thy breath in middle of a word,
And then again begin, and stop again,
As if thou were distraught, and mad with terror ?
Buc. Tut, I can counterfeit the deep Tragedian,

Speak, and look back, and prie on every fide,
Tremble, and start at wagging of a Straw :
Intending deep sufpfition, gatly Looks :
Are at my service, like enforced Smiles ;
And both are ready in their Offices,
At any time to grace my Stratagems,
But what is Catesby, gone ?

Rich. He is, and see he brings the Mayor along.

Enter the Mayor and Catesby.

Buc. Lord Mayor.

Rich. Look to the Draw-Bridge there.

Buc. Heark, a Drum.

Rich. Catesby, o're-look the Walls.

Buc. Lord Mayor, the reafon we have felt.

Rich. Look back, defend there, here are enemies.

Buc. God and our Innocency defend, and guard us.

Enter Lovell and Ratcliffe, with Haftings Head.

Rich. Be patient, they are friends : Ratcliffe & Lovell.
Lov. Here is the Head of that ignoble Traitor,
The dangerous and unfuſpected Haſtings.

Rich. So dear I lov'd the man, that I muſt weep :
I took him for the plainest harmleſe Creature,
That breath'd upon the Earth, a Chriſtian :
Made him my Book, wherein my Soul recorded
The Hifory of her ſecret thoughts.
So ſmooth he daub'd his Vice with ſnew of Verue,
That his apparent open Guilt omitted,
I mean his converſation with Shores Wife,
He liv'd from all attainder of ſuſpects.

Buc. Well, well, he was the covertſt helterd Traitor
That ever liv'd.

Would you imagine, or almoſt believe,
Wer't not, that by great preſervation
We live to tell it, that the ſubtle Traitor
This day had plotted, in the Counſell-Houſe,
To murther me, and my good Lord of Gloſter.

Ma. Had he done so ?

Rich. What ? think you we are Turks, or Inſidels ?
Or that we would, againſt the form of Law,
Proceed thus raſhly in the Villains death,
But that the extrream perill of the cafe,
The Peace of England, and our Perſons ſafety,
Enſor'd us to this Execution.

Ma. Now fair befall you, he deferv'd his death,
And your good Graces both have well proceeded,
To warn ſalſe Traitors from the like Attempts.

Buc. I never look'd for better at his hands,
After he once fell in with Miftris Shore :
Yet had we not determin'd he ſhould die,
Untill your Lordſhip came to fee his end,
Which now the loving haſte of theſe our friends,
Something againſt our meanings, have prevented ;
Because, my Lord, I would have had you heard
The traitor ſpeak, and timerouſly conſeſſe
The manner and the purpoſe of his Treafons :

That you might well have ſignify'd the fame
Unto the Citizens, who haply may
Mifconſter us in him, and wail his death.

Ma. But, my good Lord, your Graces words ſhall ſerve,
As well as I had feen, and heard him ſpeak :
And do not doubt, right Noble Princes both,
But I'le acquaint our dutious Citizens
With all your juſt proceedings in this cafe.

Rich. And to that end we wifh'd your Lordſhip here,
T'avoid the Cenſures of the carping World.

Buc. Which ſince you come too late of our intent,
Yet witneſſe what you hear we did intend :
And ſo, my good Lord Mayor, we bid farewell.

Exit Major.

Rich. Go after, after, Couſin Buckingham.
The Mayor towards Guild-Hall hyes him in all poſt :

There, at your meeteſt vantage of the time,
Infer the Baſtardy of Edwards Children :
Tell them, how Edward put to death a Citizen,
Only for ſaying, he would make his Son
Heir to the Crown, meaning indeed his Houſe,
Which, by the Signe thereof was termed ſo.
Moreover, urge his hatefull Luxury,
And beſtial appetite in change of Luft,
Which ſtretch'd unto their Servants, Daughters, Wives,
Even where his raging eye, or ſavage heart,
Without controll, luſted to make a prey.

Nay for a need, thus far come near my Perfon :
Tell them, when that my Mother went with Child
Of that infatiate Edward, Noble York,
My Prinely Father, then had Warris in France,
And by true computation of the time,
Found, that the Ilſue was not his begot :
Which well appeared in his Lineaments,
Being nothing like the Noble Duke, my Father :
Yet touch this ſparingly, as ſwere far off,
Because, my Lord, you know my Mother lives.

Buc. Doubt not, my Lord, I'le play the Orator,
As if the Golden Fee, for which I plead,
Were for my ſelf: and ſo, my Lord, adieu.

Rich. If you thrive well, bring them to Baynards Caſtle,
Where you ſhall find me well accompanied
With reverend Fathers, and well-learned Bifhops.

Buc. I go, and towards three or four a Clock
Look for the News that the Guild-Hall affords.

Exit Buckingham,

Rich: Go Lovell with all ſpeed to Doctor Shaw,
Go thou to Fryar Benker, bid them both
Meet me within this hour at Baynards Caſtle.
Now will I go to take ſome privy order,
To draw the Brats of Clarence out of fight,
And to give order, that no manner perſon
Have any time recourse unto the Princes.
Exit.

Enter a Scrivener.

Scr. Here is the Indictment of the good Lord Haſtings,
Which in a ſet hand fairly is engroſs'd,
That it may be to day read o're in Pauls.
And mark how well the ſequell hangs together :
Eleven hours I have ſpent to write it over,
For yefter-night by Catesby was it ſent me,
The Precedent was full as long a doing,
And yet within theſe five hours Haſtings liv'd,
Untainted, unexamin'd, free, at liberty.
Here's a good World the while ; who is ſo groſſe,
That cannot ſee this palpable device ?

Yet

Yet who so bold, but fayes he tees it not?

Bad is the World, and all will come to nought,

When such ill dealing must be seen in thought,

Exit.

Enter Richard and Buckingham at several doors.

Rich. How now, how now, what say the Citizens?

Buc. Now by the holy Mother of our Lord,

The Citizens are mum, say not a word,

Rich. Toucht you the Baſtardy of Edwards Children?

Buc. I did, with his Contract with Lady Lucy,

And his Contract by Deputy in France,

Th'unfatiate greediness of his defire,

And his enforcement of the City Wives,

His tyranny for Trifles, his own Baſtardy,

As being got, your Father then in France,

And his remembrance, being not like the Duke,

Withall, I did infer your Lineaments,

Being the right Idée of your Father,

Both in your form, and Noblenesse of Mind:

Laid open all your Victories in Scotland,

Your Difcipline in War, Wifdome in Peace,

Your Bounty, Vertue, fair Humility:

Indeed, left nothing fitting for your purpose,

Untoucht, or fleightly handled in discourſe.

And when my Oratory drew toward end,

I bid them that did love their Countries good,

Cry, God fave Richard, Englands Royal King.

Rich. And did they ſo?

Buc. No, I ſo God help me, they ſpake not a word,

But like dumb Statues, or breathing Stones,

Star'd each on other, and look'd deadly pale:

Which when I ſaw, I reprehended them,

And ask'd the Mayor, what meant this wilfull ſilence?

His anſwer was, the people were not uſed

To be ſpoke to, but by the Recorder.

Then he was urg'd to tell my Tale again:

Thus faith the Duke, thus hath the Duke inferr'd,

But nothing ſpoke, in warrant from himſelf.

When he had done, ſome followers of mine own,

Atlower end of the Hall, hurld up their Caps,

And ſome ten voices cry'd, God fave King Richard!

And thus I took the vantage of thate few.

Thanks gentle Citizens, and friends, quoth I,

This general applaufe, and chearefull ſhout,

Argues your wifdome, and your love to Richard:

And even here brake away, and came away.

Rich. What tongue-leſſe Blocks were they,

Would they not ſpeak?

Will not the Mayor then, and his Brethren, come?

Buc. The Mayor is here at hand: intend ſome fear,

Be not you ſpoke with, but by mighty ſuit:

And look you get a Prayer-Book in you hand,

And ſtand between two Church-men, good my Lord,

For on that ground I'le make a holy Defaſt:

And be not easily won to our requeſts,

Play the Maids part, ſtill anſwer nay, and take it.

Rich. I go: and if you plead as well for them,

As I can ſay nay to thee for my ſelf,

No doubt we bring it to a happy ſiſſe.

Buc. Go, go up to the Leads, the Lord Mayor knocks.

Enter Lord Mayor, and Citizens.

Welcome my Lord, I dance attendance here,
I think the Duke will not be ſpoke withall.

Enter Catesby.

Buc. Now Catesby, what fayes your Lord to my requeſt?

Cates. He doth entreat your Grace, my Noble Lord,

To visit him to-morrow, or next day:

He is within, with two right reverend Fathers,

Divinely bent to Meditation,

And in no worldly ſuits would he be mov'd,

To draw him from his holy Exercife.

Buc. Return, good Catesby, to the gracious Duke,

Tell him, my ſelf, the Mayor and Aldermen,

In deep defignes, in matter of great moment,

No leſſe importing then our general good,

Are come to have ſome conference with his Grace.

Cates. I'le ſignifie ſo much unto him ſtraight.

Exit.

Buc. Ah ha, my Lord, this Prince is not an Edward,
He is not lulling on a lewd Love-Bed:

But on his Knees at Meditation:

Not dallying with a Brace of Curtizans,

But meditating with two deep Divines:

Not ſleeping, to engroſſe his idle Body,

But praying, to enrich his watchfull Soul.

Happy were England, would this vertuous Prince

Take on his Grace the Soveraignty thereof.

But ſure I fear we shall not win him to it.

Mayor. Marry God defend his Grace ſhould ſay us
nay.

Buc. I fear he will: here Catesby comes again.

Enter Catesby.

Now Catesby, what fayes his Grace?

Cates. He wonders to what end you have affembl'd

Such troops of Citizens, to come to him,

His Grace not being warn'd thereof before:

He fears, my Lord, you mean no good to him.

Buc. Sorry I am, my Noble Couſin ſhould

Sufpect me, that I mean no good to him:

By Heaven, we come to him in perſect love,

And ſo once more return, and tell his Grace.

Exit.

When holy and devout Religious men

Are at their Beads, 'tis much to draw them thence,

So ſweet is zealous Contemplation.

Enter Richard aloft, between two Bishops

Ma. See where his Grace stands, between two Clergy men.

Buc. Two Props of Vertue, for a Chriſtian Prince,

To ſtay him from the fall of Vanity:

And fee a Book of Prayer in his hand,

True Ornaments to know a holy man.

Famous Plantagenet, moſt gracious Prince,

Lend favourable ear to our requeſts,

And pardon us the interruption

Of thy Devotion, and right Chriſtian Zeal.

Rich. My Lord, there needs no ſuch Apology:

I do beſeech your Grace to pardon me,

Who earneſt in the ſervice of th'high God,

Defeſt'd the viſitation of my friends.

But leaving this, what is your Graces pleafure?

Buc. Even that (I hope) which pleafeth God above,
And all good men, of this ungovern'd I'le,

Rich. I do ſuppect I have done ſome offence,

That ſeems difgracious in the Cities eye,

And that you come to reprehend my ignorance.

Buc. You

528

Buc. You have, my Lord:
Would it might please you your Grace,
On your entreaties, to amend your fault.

Rich. Elfe wherefore breath I in a Chriftian Land.

Buc. Know then, it is your fault, that you refigne
The Supream Seat, the Throne Majeftiall,
The Sceptred office of your Anceftors,
Your State of Fortune, and your Due of Birth,
The Lineal Glory of your Royal Houſe,
To the corruption of a blemifht Stock:

Whiles in the mildneſſe of your sleepy thoughts,
(Which here we waken to our Countries good.)
The Noble Ille doth want his proper Limbs :
His Face defac'd with skarrs of Infamy,
His Royal Stock graffi't with ignoble Plants,
And almost shouldred in the swallowing Gulf
Of dark forgetfulneſſe, and deep Oblivion.
Which to recure, we heartily ſoſit
Your gracious ſelf to take on you the charge
And Kingly Government of this your Land :
Not as Protector, Steward, Subſtitute,
Or lowly Factor, for anothers gain;
But as ſucceſſively, from Bloud to Bloud,
Your Right of Birth, your Empiry, your own.
For this, conforted with the Citizens,
Your very Worſhipfull and loving friends,
And by their vehement inſtigation,
In this juſt Caufe come I to move your Grace.

Rich. I cannot tell, if to depart in ſilence,
Or bitterly to ſpeak in your reproof,
Beſt fitted my Degree, or your Condition,
For not to anſwer, you might haply think,
Tongue-ty'd Ambition, not replying, yielded
To bear the Golden Yoak of Soveraigncy,
Which fondly you would here impoſe on me.
If to reprove you for this ſuit of yours,
So feaſt'd with your faithfull love to me,
Then on the other ſide I check'd my friends,
Therefore to ſpeak, and to avoid the firſt,
And then in ſpeaking, not to incur the laſt,
Definitively thus I anſwer you.

Your love deferves my thanks, but my defert
Unmeritable, thuns your high requeſt.
Firſt, if all Obſtacles were cut away,
And that my Path were even to the Crown,
As the ripe Revenue, and due of Birth:
Yet ſo much is my poverty of ſpirit,
So mighty, and ſo many my defectes,

That I would rather hide me from my Greatneſs,
Being a Bark to brook no mighty Sea;
Then in my Greatneſſe covet to be hid,
And in the vapour of my Glory ſmother'd.
But God be thank'd, there is no need of me,
And much I need to help you, were there need :
The Royal Tree hath left us Royal Fruit,
Which mellow'd by the ſealing hours of time,
Will well become the Seat of Majefty,
And make us (no doubt) happy by his Reign.
On him I lay that, you would lay on me,
The Right and Fortune of his happy Starrs,
Which God defend that I should wring from him.

Buc. My Lord, this argues Conſcience in your Grace,
But the reſpects thereof are nice, and trivial,
All circumſtances well confidered.
You ſay, that Edward is your Brothers Son,
So ſay we too, but not by Edwards Wife:

For firſt was he contract to Lady Lucy,
Your Mother lives a witneſſe to his Vow,
And afterward by ſubſliuate betroth'd
To Bona, Sifter to the King of France.
Theſe both put off, a poor Petitioner,
A Care-cras'd Mother to a many Sons,
A Beauty-waining, and diſtrefled Widow,
Even in the after-noon of her beſt dayes,
Made prize and purchase of his wanton Eye,
Sedu'd the pitch, and height of his degree,
To bafe declenſion, and loath'd Bigamie.
By her, in his unlawſull Bed, he got
This Edward, whom our Manners call the Prince,
More bitterly could I expoſtulate,
Save that for reverence of ſome alive,
I give a ſparing limit to my Tongue.
Then good my Lord, take to you Royal ſelf
This proffer'd benefit of Dignity:
If not to bleſſe us and the Land withall,
Yet to draw forth your Noble Anceſtury
From the corruption of abufing times,
Unto a Linca true derived course.

Mayor. Do good my Lord, your Citizens entreat you.

Buc. Refuse not mighty Lord, this proffer'd love.

Cates. O make them joyfull, grant their lawfull ſuit.

Rich. Alas, why would you heap this Care on me?

I am unfit for State, and Majefty:

I do beſeech you take it not amiffle,

I cannot, nor I will not yield to you.

Buc. If you refufe it, as in love and zeal,
Loth to depoſe the Child your Brothers Son,
As well we know your tenderneſſe of heart,
And gentle, kind, effeminate remorſe,
Which we have noted in you to your Kindred,
And equally indeed to all Eſtates:
Yet know, where you accept our ſuit, or no,
Your Brothers Son ſhall never reign our King,
But we will plant ſome other in the THRONE,
To the diſgrace and down-fall of your Houſe:
And in this refolution here we leave you.

Come Citizens, we will entreat no more.

Exeunt.

Cates. Call him again, ſweet Prince, accept their ſuit:
If you deny them, all the Land will rue it.

Rich. Will you enforce me to a world of Cares?
Call them again, I am not made of Stones,
But penetrable to your kind entreaties,
Albeit againſt my Conſcience and my Soul.

Enter Buckingham and the rest.

Couſin of Buckingham, and ſage men,
Since you will buckle fortune on my back,
To bear her burthen, whether, I will or no,
I muſt have patience to endure the Load:
But if black Scandal, or four-fac'd Reproach,
Attend the ſequell of your Impofition,
Your meer enforcement ſhall acquitance me
From all the impure blots and stains thereof,
For God doth know, and you may partly ſee,
How far I am from the defue of this.

Mayor. God bleſſe your Grace, we ſee it, and will
fay it.

Rich. In ſaying so, you ſhall but ſay the truth.
Buc. Then I falue you with this Royal Title,
Long live King Richard, Englands worthy King.

All. Amen.

Buc. To morrow may it pleafe you to be Crown'd?

Rich. Even when you pleafe, for you will have it so.

Buc. To

529

Buc. To morrow then we will attend your Grace,
And so moft joyfully we take our leave.

Rich. Come, let us to our Holy Work again.
Farewell my Cousins, farewell gentle friends.

Exeunt.

## Actus Quartus. Scena Prima.

Enter the Queen, Anne Duches of Gloucester, the
Duchess of York, and Marques of Dorset.

Duch. York, Who meets us here?

My Nicce Plantagenet,

Led in the hand of her kind Aunt of Gloster?

Now, for my Life, she's wandring to the Tower,

On pure hearts love, to greet the tender Prince.

Daughter, well met.

An. God give your Graces both a happy

Anda joyfull time of day.

Qu. As much to you, good Sifter: whither away?

An. No farther then the Tower, and as I guile, Upon the like devotion as your felves,
To gratulate the gentle Princes there.

Qu. Kind Sifter thanks, we'll never enter all together.

Enter the Lieutenant.

And in good time, here the Lieutenant comes,

After Lieutenant, pray you, by your leave,

How doth the Prince, and my young Son of York?

Lieu. Right well, dear Madam: by your patience,
I may not suffer you to vifit them,
The King hath ftrictly charg'd the contrary.

Qu. The King? who's that?

Lieu. I mean the Lord Protector.

Qu. The Lord protect him from that Kingly Title.
Hath he set bounds between their love, and me?
I am their Mother, who shall bar me from them?

Duch. York, I am their Fathers Mother, I will fee them.

An. Their Aunt I am in Law, in love their Mother:
Then bring me to their fights, I'll bear thy blame,
And take thy Office from thee, on my perill.

Lieu. No, Madam, no, I may not leave it to:
I am bound by Oath, and therefore pardon me.

Exit Lieutenant.

Enter Stanley.

Stan. Let me but meet you Ladies one hour hence,
And I'le salute your Grace of York as Mother,
And reverend looker on of two fair Queens.
Come Madam, you must be straight to Westminster,
There to be crowned Richards Royal Queen.

Qu. Ah, cut my Lace afunder,
That my pent heart may have fome fcope to beat,
Or else I woon with this dead-killing news.

An. Defpightfull tidings, O unpleasing news.
Dorf. Be of good cheare: Mother, how fates your
Grace?

Qu. O Dorset, I speak not to me, get thee gone,
Death and Deſtruction dogs thee at thy heels,
Thy Mothers Name is ominous to Children,
If thou wilt out-strip Death, go croſſe the Seas,

And live with Richmond, from the reach of Hell,
Go by thee, by thee from this flaugher-house;
Left thou encreafe the number of the dead,
And make me die the thrall of Margarets Curſe,
Nor Mother, Wife, nor Englands counted Queen.

Stan. Full of wife care, is this your counſell, Madam:
Take all the twift advantage of the hours:

You fhall have Letters from me to my Son,
In your behalf, to meet you on the way:
Be not ta'ne tardy by unwife delay.

Duc. Tor. O ill disperſing Wind of Mifery,
O my accurſed Womb, the Bed of Death:
A Cockatrice haſt thou hatch'd to the World,
Whofe una voided Eye is murtherous.

Stan. Come, Madam, come, I in all haſt was ſent.

An. And I with all unwillingneſſe will go.
O would to God, that the incluſive Verge
Of Golden Metall, that muſt round my Brow,
Were red hot Steel, to fear me to the Brains,
Anointed let me be with deadly Venome,
And die ere men ſay, God faves the Queen.

Qu. Go, go, poor foul, I envy not thy glory,
To feed my humor, with thy ſelf no harme.

An. No: why? When he that is my Husband now,
Came to me, as I follow'd Henrie's Corſe,
When tearec the bloud was well waſt from his hands,
Which itſued from my other Angel Husband,
And that dear Saint, which then I weeping follow'd:

O, when I ſay, I look'd on Richards Face,
This was my Wifh: Be thou (quoth I) accuſt,
For making me, ſo young, ſo old a Widow:
And when thou wed'ſt, let forrow haunt thy Bed:
And be thy Wife, if any be ſo mad,
More miferable, by the Life of thee,
Then thou haſt made me, by my dear Lords death,

Loe, e're I can repeat this Curſe again,
Within ſo fmall a time, my Womans heart

Groſſely grew captive to his honey words,
And prov'd the ſubject of mine own Souls Curſe,

Which hitherto hath held mine eyes from reſt:
For never yet one hour in his Bed
Did I enjoy the golden dew of ſleep,
But with his timeres Dreams was fill awak'd.
Besides, he hates me for my Father Warwick,
And will (no doubt) ſhortly be rid of me.

Qu. Poor heart adieu, I pitty thy complaining.

An. No more, then with my foule I mourn for
yours.

Dorf. Farewell, chou wofull welcommer of glory.

Anne. Adieu, poor foule, that tak'ft thy leave of
it.

Duc. York. Go to Richmond, to Dorſet, to Aune, to the
Queen, and good fortune guide thee,

Go thou to Richard, and good Angels tend thee,
Go thou to Sanctuary, and good thoughts peſſeſſe thee;
I to my Grave, where peace and reſt lye with me.

Eighty odde years of ſorrow have I feen,
And each hour's joy wrackt with a week of teen.

Qu. Stay, yet look back with me unto the Tower.
Pitty, you ancient Stones, those tender Babes,
Whom Envy hath immur'd within your Walls,

Rough Cradle for fuch little pretty ones,

Rude ragged Nurſe, old ſullen Play-fellow,

For tender Princes: uſe my Babies well;

So foolish Sorrows bids your Stones farewell.

Exeunt.

Sound.

530

## Scena Secunda.

Sound a Sonnet. Enter Richard in pomp, Buckingham, Catesby, Ratcliffe, Lovel.

Rich. Stand all apart Cousin of Buckingham.
Buck. My gracious Soveraign.
Rich. Give me thy hand.
Sound.

Thus high, by thy advice, and thy aff assistance,
Is King Richard seated?

But shall we wear these Glories for a day?
Or shall they last, and we rejoyce in them?

Buc. Still live they, and for ever let them last.

Rich. Ah Buckingham, now do I play the Touch,
To try if thou be current Gold indeed:

Young Edward lives, think now what I would speak.

Buc. Say on, my loving Lord.

Rich. Why Buckingham, I say I would be King.

Rich. Why to you are, my thrice-renowned Lord.

Rich. Ha? am I King? 'tis so: but Edward lives.

Buc. True, Noble Prince.

Rich. O bitter confequence!

That Edward still should live true noble Prince.

Cousin, thou waft not wont to be so dull,

Shall I be plain? I wish the Baftards dead,

And I would have it: suddenly perform'd,

What fay'ft thou new? speak suddenly, be brief.

Buck. Your Grace may do your pleasure.

Rich. Tut, tut, thou art all Ice, thy kindneſſe freezes:
Say, have I thy conſent, that they ſhall die?

Bn. Give me fome little breath, some paſſe, dear Lord,
Before I positively ſpeak in this:

I will resolve you herein prefentely.
I will resolve you herein prefentely.
Exit Buck.

Cates. The King is angry, fee he gnaws his Lip,
Rich. I will converſe with Iron-witted Fools,

And unrefpctive Boyes: none are for me,

That look into me with confiderate eyes,

High-reaching Buckingham grows circumſpect.

Boy.

Page. My Lord.

Rich. Know'ft thou not any, whom corrupting Gold
Will tempt unto a close exploit of Death?

Page. I know a discontented Gentleman,

Whole humble means match not his haughty ſpirit:
Gold were as good as twenty Oratores,

And will (no doubt) tempt him to any thing.

Rich. What is his Name?

Page. His Name, my Lord, is Tirrell.

Rich. I partly know the man : go call him hither
Boy.
Exit.

The deep revolving witty Buckingham,

No more ſhall be the neighbour to my counſells,

Hath he ſo long held out with me untyr'd,

And ſtops he now for breath? Well, be it so.

### Enter Stanley.

How now, Lord Stanley, what's the news?

Stan. Know my lovin' Lord, the Marquess Dorſet

As I hear, is ſted to Richmond,

In the parts where he abides.

Rich. Come hither Catesby, rumor it abroad,
That Anne my Wife is very grievous ſick,

I will take order for her keeping clothe,
Inquire me out fome mean poor Gentleman,
Whom I will marry ſtraight to Clarence Daughter:
The Boy is foolish, and I fear not him.

Look how thou dream'ſt : I ſay again, give out,
That Anne, my Queen, is ſick, and like to die.

About it, for it stands me much upon
To toſp all hopes, whose growth may damage me.

I muſt be married to my Brothers Daughters,
Or eſſe my Kingdome stands on brittle Glaſſe:

Murther her Brothers, and then marry her,

Uncertain way of gain. But I am in

So far in bloud, that ſin will pluck on ſin,

Tear-falling Pitty dwells not in this Eye.

### Enter Tirrell.

Is thy Name Tirrell?

Tir. James Tirrell, and your moſt obedi ent subject.

Rich. Art thou indeed?

Tir. Prove me, my gracious Lord.

Rich. Darſt thou resolve to kill a friend of mine?

Tir. Pleaſe you:

But I had rather kill two enemies.

Rich. Why then thou haſt it: two deep enemies,

Foes to my Reth, and my ſweet ſleeps diſturbers,

Are they that I would have the deal upon:

Tirrell, I mean those Baſtards in the Tower.

Tir. Let me have open means to come to them,

And ſoon I'll rid you from the fear of them.

Rich. Thou ſing'ſt sweet Mufick:

Heark, come hither Tirrel,

Go by this token: rife, and thine tend Ear!

Whispers.

There is no more but ſo: ſay it is done,

And I will love thee, and prefer thee for it.

Tir. I will ditpatch it ſtraight.

Exit.

### Enter Buckingham.

Buck. My Lord, I have confider'd in my mind,

The late requeſt that you did found me in.

Rich. Well, let that reſt: Dorſet is ſled to Richmond.

Buc. I hear the news, my Lord.

Rich. Stanley, he is your Wives Son: well, look un-
co it.

Buck. My Lord, I claim the gift, my due by promife,
For which your Honour and your Faith is pawn'd,

Th'Earldome of Hereſord, and the moſeables,

Which you have promiſed I ſhall poffeſs.

Rich. Stanley look to your Wife : if the convey

Letters to Richmond, you ſhall anſwer it.

Buc. What fayes your Highneſſe to my juſt requeſt?

Rich. I do remember me, Henry, the Sixth

Did propheſe, that Richmond ſhould be King,

When Richmond was a little peeviſh Boy.

A King perhaps.

Rich. May it pleafe you to resolve me in my ſuit.

Buc. Thou troubleſt me, I am not in the vein. Exit.

Rich. And is it thus? repayes he my deep ſervice

With ſuch contempt? made I him King for this?

O let me think on Hafterſt, and be gone

To Brecnock, while my fearfull Head is on. Exit.

### Enter Tirrel.

Tir. The tyrannous and bloody Act is done,

The moſt arch deed of pittious maſſacre

The

That ever yet this Land was guilty of:
Dighton and Forrest, whom I did fuborn
To do this piece of ruthfull Butchery,
Albeit they were fleft Villains, bloody Dogs,
Melted with tenderneffe, and milde compaffion,
Wept like to Children, in their deaths sad Story,
O thus (quoth Dighton) lay the gentle Babes:
Thus, thus (quoth Forrest) girdling one another
Within their Alablafter innocent armes:
Their lips were four red Rofes on a ſtalk,
And their Summer Beauty kift each other.
A Book of Prayers on their pillow lay,
Which one (quoth Forrest) almost chang'd my mind:
But oh the Devill, there the Villain flopt:
When Dighton thus told on, wefmothered
The moft replenifhed sweet work of nature,
That from the prime Creation ere ſhe framed,
Hence both are gone with Conſcience and Remorſe,
They could not ſpeak, and ſo I left them both,
To bear theſe tydings to the bloody King.

Enter Richard.

And here he comes. All health my Soveraign Lord.
Rich. Kind Tirrel, am I happy in the News.
Tir. If to have done the thing you gave in charge,
Beget your happineſſe, be happy then,
For it is done.
Rich. But did't thou ſee them dead?
Tir. I did my Lord.
Rich. And buried, gentle Tirrel?
Tir. The Chaplain of the Tower hath buried them,
But where (to ſay the truth) I do not know.

Rich. Come to me Tirrel ſoon, and after Supper,
When thou there ſhalt tell the proceſſe of their death.
Man time, but think how I may do thee good.
And be inheritor of thy deſire.
Farewell till then.
Tir. I humbly take leave.
Rich. The Son of Clarence have I pent up cloſe,
His daughter meanely have I match'd in marriage,
The Sons of Edward ſleep in Abrahams boſome,
And Anne my wife hath bid this world good nights.
Now for I know the Brittain Richard aims
At young Elizabeth my Brothers daughter,
And by that knot looks proudly on the Crown,
To her go I, a jolly thriving wooer.

Enter Ratcliffe.

Rat. My Lord.
Rich. Good or bad news', that thou com't in ſo
bluntly?
Rat. Bad news my Lord, Mourton is fled to Richmond,
And Buckingham backt with the hardy Welſhmen
Is in the field, and ſtill his power encreaſeth.
Rich. Elż with Richmond troubles me more near,
Then Buckingham and his rafh levied Strength.
Come, I have learn'd, that fearfull commenting
Is leaden fervitor to dull delay.
Delay leads impotent and Snail-pac'd Beggery :
Then fiery expedition be my wing,
Joves Mercury, and Herald for a King:
Go muſter men: My counſell is my Shield,
We muſt be brief, when Traitors brave the Field.

Exeunt.

## Scena Tertia.

Enter Old Queen Margaret.

Mar. So now prosperity begins to mellow,
And drop into the rotten mouth of death:
Here in these Confines flily have I lurk,
To watch the waining of mine enemies.
A dire inducation, am I witneſſe to,
And will to France, hoping the conſequence
Will prove as bitter, black, and Tragicall.
Withdraw thee wretched Margaret, who comes here?

Enter Dutchefle and Queen.

Qu. Ah my poor Princes ! ah my tender Babes !
My unblown Flowers, new appearing ſweets:
If yet your gentle fouls flye in the Aire,
And be not fixt in doom perpetual,
Hover about me with your airy wings,
And hear your mothers Lamentation.

Mar. Hover about her, ſay that right for right
Hath dim'd your Infant morn, to Aged night.
Dut. So many miferies have craz'd my voyce,
That my woe-wearied tongue is ſtill and mute.

Edward Plantagenet, why art thou dead?
Mar. Plantagenet doth quit Plantagenet,
Edward for Edward, payes a dying debt.

Qu. Wilt thou, O God flye from ſuch gentle Lambs,
And throw them in the intrails of the Wolf?
Why didst thou ſleep, when ſuch a deed was done?

Mar. When holy Henry died, and my ſweet Son,
Dut. Dead life, blind fight, poor mortal living ghast,
Woes ſcene, Wotids ſhame, Graves due, by life uſurp,
Brief altraſt and record of tedious dayes,
Reſt thy unreſt on Englands lawſull earth,
Unlawfully made drunk with innocent bloud.

Qu. Ah that thou would'ſt as ſoon afford a Grave,
As thou canſt yield a melancholly ſeat:
Then would I hide my bones, not reſt them here,
Ah who hath any cauſe to mourn but we ?
Mar. If ancient ſorrow be moſt reverent,
Give mine the benefit of ſigneury,
And let my griefs frown on the upper hand
If ſorrow can admit Society.

I had an Edward, till a Richard kill'd him:
I had a Husband, till a Richard kill'd him:
Thou had'ſt an Edward, till a Richard kill'd him:
Thou had'ſt a Richard, till a Richard kill'd him.

Dut. I had a Richard too, and thou did'ſt kill him;
I had a Rutland too, thou holp'ſt to kill him.

Mar. Thou had'ſt a. Clarence too,
And Richard kill'd him.

From forth the kennel of thy womb hath crept
A Hell-hound that doth hunt us all to death:
That Dog, that had his teeth before his eyes,
To worry Lambs, and lap their gentle bloud :
That foul defacer of Gods handy work :
That reigns in gauld eyes of weeping fouls :
That excellent grand Tyrant of the earth,
Thy womb let loofe to chafe us to our graves.
O upright, juſt, and true diſpoſing God,
How do I thank thee, that this carnal Cur

Preyes

532

Preys on the iffue of his mothers body,

And makes her Puc-fellow with others mone.

*Dut.* Oh Harries wife, triumph not in my woes:
God witneſſe with me, I have wept for thine.

*Mar.* Bear with me: I am hungry for revenge,
And now I cloy me with beholding it.
Thy Edward he is dead, that kill'd my Edward.

*The other Edward dead, to quit my Edward:*
Young York, he is but boot, becauſe both they
Match'd not the high perfection of my loffe.

*Thy Clarence he is dead, that ſtab'd my Edward,*
*And the beholders of this ſtrantick play,*

*Th' adulterate Haſtіngs, Rivers, Vaughan, Gray,*
*Untimely ſmother'd in their dusky Graves.*

*Richard yet livs, Hells black Intelligencers,*
*Onely reſerv'd their Faſtor, to buy fouls,*
*And ſend them bither: But at hand, at hand*

*Infues his pitteous and unpittied end,
Earth gapes, Hell burns, Ffiends groat, Saints pray,*
*To have him ſuddenly convey'd from hence:*

*Canceſſ his bond of life, dear God, I prays;
That I may live and ſay, The Dog is dead.*

*Qu.* O thou didst ſt prophetic, the time would come,
That I should wifh for thee to help me curſe
That botteſ'd Spider, that foul bunch-back'd Toad.

*Mar.* I call'd thee then, vain flouriſh of my fortune:
I call'd thee then, poor Shadow, painted Queen,
The repreſentation of but what I was;

*The flattering Index of a direfull Pageant,*

*One heav'd a high, to be hurl'd down below:*

*A mother onely mockt with two fair Babes;*

*A dream of what thou waſt, a garilſh Flag*

*To be the aim of every dangerous Shot;*

*A ſign of Dignity, a Breath, a Bubble:
A Queen in leaſt, only to fill the Scene.*

*Where is thy Husband now? Where be thy Brothers?*

*Where be thy two Sons? Wherein doſt thou Joy?*

*Who fues, and kneels, and faies, God save the Queen?*

*Where be the bending Peers that flattered thee?*

*Where be the thronging Troops that followed thee?*

*Decline all this, and fee now what thou art.*

*For happy Wife, a moſt diſtressed Widow:*

*For joyfull Mother, one that wails the name:*

*For one being ſued to, one that humbly ſues:*

*For Queen a very Caytiffe, crown'd with care:*

*For ſhe that ſcorn'd at me, now ſcorn'd of me:*

*For he being feared of all, now fearing one:*

*For he commanding all, obey'd of none.*

*Thus hath the course of Juitice whirl'd about;*

*And leſſe thee a very prey to time,*

*Having no more but Thought of what thou waſt,*

*To torture thee the more, being what thou art,*

*Thou didſt upſup my place, and doſt thou not
Uſup the juſt proportion of my Sorrow ?*

*Now thy proud Neck, bears half my burthen'd yoak,*

*From which, even here I flip my weaſied head,
And leave the burthen of it all, on thee.*

*Farewell York's wife, and Queen of ſad miſchance,
Theſe English woes, ſhall make me ſmile in France.*

*Qu.* O thou well skill'd in Curſes, ſtay a while,
And teach me how to curſe mine enemies.

*Mar.* Forbear to ſleep the night, and ſaſt the day:
Compare dead happineſſe, with living woe:

*Think that thy Babes were ſweeter then they were,
And he that flew them fouler then he is:*

*Bett'ring thy loffe, makes the bad cauſer worſe,*

Revolving this, will teach thee how to Curſe.

*Qu.* My words are dull, O quickeſt them with thine.

*Mar.* Thy woes will make them ſharp,

And pierce like mine.

*Exit Margaret.*

*Dut.* Why ſhould calamity be full of words?

*Qu.* Windy Attnurnies to their Clients Woes,

Aiery ſucceders of intedſine joyes,

Poor breathing Orators of miſeries,

Let them have ſcope, though what they will impart,

Help nothing ſelfe, yet do they eafe the heart.

*Dut.* If so then, be not Tongue-ty'd: go with me,

And in the breath of bitter words, let's mother
My damned Son, that thy two ſweet Sons ſmother'd.
The Trumpet founds, be copious in exclaims,

Enter King Richard, and his Train.

*Rich.* Who intercepts me in my Expedition ?

*Dut.* O ſhe, that might have iſtercepted thee

By ſtrangling thee in her accuſed womb,

From all the ſlaughteſers (Wreſt) that thou haſt done.

*Qu.* Hid'ft thou that Forhead with a Golden Crown
Where't should be branded, if that right were right?

*The ſlaughte of the Prince that ow'd that Crown,*

*And the dyre death of my poor Sons and Brothers.*

*Tell me, thou Villain-flaſe, where are my Children?*

*Dut.* Thou Toad, thou Toads,

Where is thy Brother Clarence?

And little Ned Plantagenet his Son?

*Qu.* Where is the gentle Rivers, Vaughan, Gray?

*Dut.* Where is kind Haſtіngs?

*Rich.* A flouriſh Trumpets, iſtrike Alarum Drums:

Let not the Heavens hear your ſell-tale women.

Rail on the Lords Annointed, Strike I ſay.

Flouriſh

Alarums.

Either be patient, and intreat me fair,

Or with the clamorous reports of War,

Thus will I drown your exclamation:

*Dut.* Art thou my Son?

*Rich.* I, I thank God, my Father, and your ſelf.

*Dut.* Then patiently hear my impatience.

*Rich.* Madam, I have a touch of your condition,

That cannot brook the accent of reproof.

*Dut.* O let me ſpeak.

*Rich.* Do then, but I'le not hear.

*Dut.* I will be mild, and gentle in my words.

*Rich.* And brief (good Mother) for I am in haſt.

*Dut.* Art thou ſo haſty ? I have ſtaid for thee

(God knows) in torment and in agony.

*Rich.* And came I not at laſt to comfort you?

*Dut.* No by the holy Rood, how know't it well,

Thou cam'ſt on earth, to make the earth my Hell.

A grievous burthen was thy Birth to me,

Tetchy and wayward was thy infancy.

Thy School-dayes frightfull, deſp'rate, wild, and furious,

Thy prime of Man-hood, daring, bold, and venturous:

Thy Age confirm'd, proud, ſubtle, flye, and bloudy,

More mild, but yet more harmfull, Kind in hatred:

What comfortable hour canſt thou name,

That ever grac'd me with thy company?

*Rich.* Faith none, but Humſrey Hower,

That call'd your Grace

To breakfast once, forth of my company.

If I be ſo diſgracious in your eye,

Let me march on, and not offend you Madam.

Strike up the Drum.

*Dut.* I pretheſe hear me ſpeak.

Rich.

The Life and Death of Richard the third.

533

Rich. You speak too bitterly.
Dut. Hear me a word:
For I shall never speak to thee again.
Rich. So.
Dut. Either thou wilt die by Gods just ordinance
Ere from this warre thou turn a Conqueror:
Or I with grief and extreame age shall perish,
And never more behold thy face again.
Therefore take with thee my most grievous Curfe,
Which in the day of Battell tyre thee more
Then all the compleat Armour that thou wear'st.
My Prayers on the adverse Party fight,
And there the little foules of Edwards Children,
Whisper the Spirits of thine Enemies,
And promise them Successe and Victory:
Bloody thou art, bloody will be thy end:
Shame serves thy life, and doth thy death attend. Exit.
Quee. Though far more caufe, yet much less spirit to
Abides in me, I lay Amen to her. (curfe)
Rich. Stay, Madam, I must talk a word with you.
Quee. I have no more Sons of the Royall blood
For thee to slaughter. For my Daughters (Richard)
They shall be praying Nunnes, not weeping Queens:
And therefore leuell not to hit their lives.
Rich. You have a Daughter call'd Elizabeth,
Virnous and Fair, Royall and Gracious.
Quee. And must the dye for this? O let her live,
And I'll corrupt her Manners, stain her Beauty,
Slander my self, as false to Edwards bed:
Throw over her the vale of infamy,
So she may live unfcar'd of bleeding slaughter,
I will confecte the fire was not Edwards Daughter.
Rich. Wrong not her Birth, the is a Royall Princeffe.
Quee. To fave her life, I'le fay the is not fo.
Rich. Her life is faſet only in her Birth.
Quee. And only in that safety di'd her Brothers.
Rich. Loe, at their Birth good Starres were oppofite.
Quee. No, to their lives ill friends were contrary.
Rich. All unavoidable is the doom of Deftiny.
Quee. True : when avoided Grace makes Deftiny.
My Babes were deſtin'd to a fairer death,
If Grace had bleſt thee with a fairer life.
Rich. You speak as if that I had flain my Coukins ?
Quee. Coukins indeed, and by their Uncle cozen'd,
Of Comfort, Kingdome, Kindred, Freedom, Life,
Whofe hands foever lanch'd their tender hearts,
Thy head (all indirectly) gave direction.
No doubt the murd'rous Knife was dull and blunt,
Till it was whetted on thy ſtone-hard heart,
To revell in the intrailes of my Lambs.
But that ſill life of grief, makes wilde grief fame,
My tongue ſhould to thy eares not name my Boyes,
Till that my Nailes were anchor'd in thine eyes:
And I in ſuch a deſp'rate Bay of death,
Like a poor Bark, of fails and tackling reſt,
Rush all to pieces on thy Rocky boſome.
Rich. Madam, fo thrive I in my enterprize,
And dangerous Successe of bloody warres,
As I intend more good to you and yours,
Then ever you and yours by me were harm'd.
Quee. What good is cover'd with the face of heaven,
To be discovered, that can do me good ?
Rich. Th'advancement of your Children, gentle Lady.
Quee. Up to ſome Scaffol, there to lofe their heads.
Rich. Unto the dignity and height of fortune,
The high Imperiall Type of this earths glory.

Quee. Flatter my forrow with report of it:
Tell me, what flare, what dignity, what honour
Canſt thou devife to any Childe of mine.
Rich. Even all I have; I, and my self and all,
Will I withall endow a Child of thine :
So in the Lethe of thy angry foule,
Thou drown the ſad remembrance of those wrongs,
Which thou fuppoff'd I have done to thee.
Quee. Be brief, leaſt the proceſe of thy kindneſſe
Laſt longer telling then thy kindneſſe date.
Rich. Then know,
That from my Soule I love thy Daughter.
Quee. My Daughters Mother thinks it with her Soule.
Rich. What doe you think ?
Qu. That thou doſt love my Daughter from thy Soul,
So from thy Soules love didt thou love her Brothers,
And from thy hearts love, I do thank thee for it.
Rich. Be not ſo haſtly to confound my meaning :
I mean that with my foule I love thy Daughters,
And doe intend to make her Queen of England.
Qu. Well then, who doſt thou mean ſhall be her King.
Rich. Even he that makes her Queen.
Who eſſe should be ?
Quee. What, thou ?
Rich. Even ſo: how think you of it ?
Quee. How canſt thou wooe her ?
Rich. That I would learn of you,
As one being beſt acquainted with her humour.
Quee. And wilt thou learn of me ?
Rich. Madam, with all my heart.
Quee. Send to her by the man that flew her Brothers,
A pair of bleeding hearts ; thereon engrave
Edward and York, then haply will the weep :
Therefore preſent to her, as sometime Margaret
Did to thy Father, ſteep in Rutlands blood,
A Hand-kerchiffe, which ſay to her did drain
The purple ſappe from her ſweet Brothers body,
And bid her wipe her weeping eyes withall.
If this inducement move her not to love,
Send her a Letter of thy Noble deeds :
Tell her, thou mad'ſt away her Uncle Clarence,
Her Uncle Rivers ; I, (and for her ſake)
Mad'ſt quick conveyance with her good Aunt. Anne.
Rich. You mock me, Madam, this is not the way
To win your Daughter.
Quee. There is no other way,
Unleſſe thou could'ſt put on ſome other ſhape,
And not be Richard, that hath done all this.
Rich. Say that I did all this for love of her.
Qu. Nay then indeed ſhe cannot choose but hate thee,
Having bought love with ſuch a bloody ſpoyle.
Rich. Look what is done, cannot be now amended :
Men ſhall deale unadvisedly ſometimes,
Which after-houres gives leſure to repent.
If I did take the Kingdome from your Sons,
To make amends, I'le give it to your Daughter :
If I have kill'd the ilſue of your wombe,
To quicken your encreafe, I will beget
Mine ilſue of your blood, upon your Daughter :
A Grandams name is little leſſe in love,
Then is the doting Title of a Mother :
They are as Children but one ſtep below,
Even of your mettle, of your very blood :
Of all one pain, ſave for a night of groans
Endur'd of her, for whom you bid like forrow,
Your Children were vexation to your youth,
Y y. But

534

But mine shall be a comfort to your Age,
The loffe you have, is but a Son being King,
And by that loffe, your Daughter is made Queen.
I cannot make you what amends I would,
Therefore accept such kindneffe as I can,
Dorset your Son, that with a fearfull foule,
Leads discontented steps in forreign foyle,
This fair Alliance, quickly shall call home
To high Premotions, and great Dignity.
The King that calls your beauteous Daughter Wife,
Familiarly shall call thy Dorset Brother :
Again shall you be Mother to a King:
And all the Ruines of diftrefſefull times,
Repair'd with double riches of Content,
What ? we have many goodly dayes to fee :
The liquid drops of teares that you have flMed,
Shall come again, transform'd to Orient Pearle ,
Advantaging their Love, with intereſt
Often-times double gain of happineſſe.
Go then (my Mother) to thy Daughter, go,
Make bold her bathfull yeares, with your experience,
Prepare her eares to hear a Woocers tale.
Put in her tender heart, ch'aspiring flame
Of golden Soveraignty: Acquaint the Princeſſe
With the ſweet ſilent houres of Marriage joyes ;
And when this Arme of mine hath chaſtifyed
The petty Rebel, dull-brain'd Buckingham,
Bound with triumphant Garlands will I come,
And lead thy Daughter to a Conquerors bed :
To whom I will retaile my Conqueſt won,
And ſhe shall be ſole Victoreſſe, Caſars Caſar.

Quee. What were I beſt to fay, her Father's Brother
Would be her Lord ? or ſhall I ſay her Unkle ?
Or he that flew her Brothers ? and her Unckles ?
Under what Title ſhall I wooe for thee,
That God, the Law, my Honour, and her Love,
Can make ſeem pleafing to her tender yeares ?

Rich. Inferre fair Englands peace by this Alliance.

Qu. which ſhe ſhall purchase with ſtill laſting warre.

Rich. Tell her, the King that may command, intreats.

Qu. That at her hands, which the Kings King forbids.

Rich. Say ſhe shall be a high and mighty Queene.

Qu. To waile the Title, as her Mother doth.

Rich. Say I will love her everlaſtingly.

Qu. But how long, ſhall that title ever laſt ?

Rich. Sweetly in force,unto her fair lives end.

Qu. But how long fairly ſhall her ſweet life laſt ?

Rich. As long as Heaven and Nature lengthens it.

Qu. As long as hell and Richard likeſt of it.

Rich. Say, I her Soveraign, am her Subject low.

Qu. But ſhe your Subject loathes ſuch Soveraignty.

Rich. Be eloquent in my behalf to her.

Qu. An honest tale ſpeeds beſt, being plainly told.

Rich. Then plainly to her, tell my loving tale.

Qu. Plain and not honest, is too harſh a ſtyle.

Rich. Your Reaſons are too ſhallow, and too quick.

Qu. O no, my Reaſons are too deep and dead,
Too deep and dead (poor Infants) in their graves,
Harp on it fill ſhall I, till heart-ftrings break.

Rich. Harp not on that string, Madam, that is paſt.

Now by my George, my Garter, and my Crown.

Qu. Profan'd, diſhonour'd, and the third urſurt.

Rich. I ſwear.

Qu. By nothing, for this is no Oath :

Thy George profan'd, hath loſt his Lordly honour ;

Thy Garter blemiſh'd, pawn'd his Kingly Virgine ;

Thy Crown urſurt, diſgrac'd his Kingly Glory :

If something thou would'ſt ſwear to be believ'd,

Swear then by something that thou haſt not wrong'd,

Rich. Then by my ſelf.

Qu. Thy ſelf, is telf-misus'd.

Rich. Now by the World.

Qu. ?Tis full of thy ſoule wrongs.

Rich. My Fatheis death.

Qu. Thy life hath it diſhonour'd.

Rich. Why then, by Heaven.

Qu. Heavens wrong is moſt of all :

If thou didſt fear to break an Oath with him,

The unity the King my Husband made,

Thou hadſt not broken, nor my Brothers di'd,

If thou hadſt fear'd to break an Oath by him,

Th'Imperiall Mettall, circling now thy head,

Had grac'd the tender Temples of my Child,

And both the Princes had been breathing here,

Which now two tender Bed-fellows for duſt,

Thy broken Faith had made the prey for Wormes,

What canſt thou ſwear by now ?

Rich. The time to come.

Qu. That thou haſt wronged in the time o're-paſt:

For I my ſelf have many teares to waſh

Hereafter time, for time paſt wrong'd by thee.

The Children live, whoſe Fathers thou haſt ſlaughter'd,

Ungovein'd youth, to waile it with their age :

The Parents live, whoſe Children thou haſt butcher'd,

Old barren Plants, to waile it with their age.

Swear not by time to come, for that thou haſt

Mifus'd ere us'd, by times ill-us'd repaſt.

Rich. As I intend to proſper, and repent :

So thrive I in my dangerous Affaires

Of hoſtoſe Armes: My ſelf, my ſelf confound:

Heaven, and Fortune barre me happy houres :

Day, yield me not thy light ? nor Night, thy reſt.

Be oppoſite all Planets of good luck

To my proceeding, if with dear hearts love,

Immaculate devotion, holy thoughts,

I tender not thy beauteous Princely Daughter.

In her conflicts my happineſſe and thine :

Without her follows to my ſelf and thee,

Her ſelf, the Land, and many a Chriſtan ſoule,

Death, Defolation, Ruine, and Decay :

It cannot be avoided, but by this:

It will not be avoided, but by this.

Therefore dear Mother (I muſt call you ſo)

Be the Attnury of my love to her :

Plead what I will be, not what I have been ;

Not my deferts, but what I will deferve :

Urge the neceſſity and ſtate of times,

And be not peeviſh found in great Deſigns,

Qu. Shall I be tempted of the Devil thus?

Rich. I, if the Devil tempt you to do good.

Qu. Shall I forget my ſelf to be my ſelf ?

Rich. I, if your ſels remembrance wrong your ſelf.

Quee. Yet thou didſt kill my Children.

Rich. But in your Daughters womb I bury them.
Where in that Neſt of Spicery they will breed
Selves of themſelves, to your reſcomforture.

Qu. Shall I go win my Daughter to thy will ?

Rich. And be a happy Mother by the deed.

Qu. I go, write to me very ſhorthly,

And you shall undeſtand from me her mind. Exit Qu.

Rich. Bear her my true loves kiffe, and so farewell.
Relenting Foole, and ſhallow-changing Woman.

How

How now, what newes ?

Enter Ratcliffe.

Rat. Moſt mighty Soveraign, on the Western Coast
rideth a puſſiant Navy : to our Shores

Throng many doubtfull hollow-hearted friends,
Unna'd, and unrefolv'd to beat them back,

Tis thought, that *Richmond* is their Admirall :
And there they hull, expecting but the aid
of *Buckingham*, to welcome them afmore,

Ric. Some light-foot friend poſt to the Duke of Nor-
Ratcliffe, thy self, or Catesby, where is he ?
(folk

Cat. Here, my good Lord.

Rich. Catesby, flye to the Duke.

Cat. I will, my Lord, with all convenient haſte,

Rich. Catesby, come hither, poſt to Salisbury.

When thou com'st thither: Dull unmindfull Villain.

Why stay't thou here, and go'ft not to the Duke ?

Cat. Fuff! mighty Liege, tell me your highneſs pleasure,
What from your Grace I ſhall deliver to him.

Rich. O true, good Catesby, bid him levy ſtraight
The greatest ſtrength and power that he can make,
And meet me suddenly at Salisbury.

Cat. I go.

Exit.

Rat. What, may it please you, ſhall I doe at Salis-
bury.

Rich. Why, what would'ſt thou doe there before I
go?

Rat. Your Highneſſe told me I should poſte before.

Rich. My minde is chang'd :

Enter Lord Stanley.

Stanley, what newes with you ?

Sta. None, good my Liege, to please you with the hear-
Nor none so bad, but well may be reported. (ing,

Rich. Hoyday, a Riddle, neither good nor bad :

What need'ſt thou run ſo many miles about,
When thou may't tell thy tale the neareſt way ?

Once more, what newes ?

Sta. Richmond is on the Seas.

Rich. There let him sink, and be the Seas on him,

White-liver'd Run-a-gate, what doth he there ?

Sta. I know not, mighty Soveraign, but by gueſſe.

Rich. Well, as you gueſſe.

Sta. Stirr'd up by Dorſet, Buckingham, and Morton.
He makes for England, here to claim the Crown.

Rich. Is the Chayre empty ? is the Sword unſway'd ?
Is the King dead ? the Empire unpoſſed ?

What heir of York is there alive, but we ?

And who is Englands King, but great York's heir ?

Then tell me, what makes he upon the Seas ?

Sta. Unleſſe for that, my Liege, I cannot gueſſe.

Rich. Unleſſe for that he comes to be your Liege,
You cannot gueſſe wherefore the Welch-man comes.
Thou wilt revolt, and flye to him, I fear.

Sta. No, my good Lord, therefore miſtruſt me not.

Rich. Where is thy power then to beat him back ?

Where be thy Tenants, and thy followers ?

Are they not now upon the Western shore,

Safe-conducting the Rebels from their Ships ?

Stanley. No, my good Lord, my friends are in the
North.

Rich. Cold friends to me: what do they in the North,
When they should serve their Soveraign in the Weſt ?

Sta. They have not been commanded, mighty King,
Pleasech your Majefty to give me leave,

I'le muſter up my friends, and meet your Grace,
Where, and what time your Maj ſty ſhall pleafe.

Rich. I, thou would'ſt be gone, to Joyn with Richmond:
But I'le not truſt thee.

Sta. Moſt mighty Soveraign,
You have no cauſe to hold my friendſhip doubtfull,
I never was, nor never will be false.

Rich. Go then, and muſter men : but leave behind
Your Son George Stanley : look your heart be firm,
Or else his heads affluance is but fraile.

Sta. So deale with him as I prove true to you.

Exit Stanley.

Enter a Meſſenger.

Meſ. My gracious Soveraign, now in Devon-thire,
As I by friends am well adverſited,

Sir Edward Courtney, and the haughty Prelates,

Bifhop of Exeter, his elder Brother,

With many more Confederates are in Armes.

Enter another Meſſenger.

Meſ. In Kent, my Liege, the Guilſords are in Armes,
And every hour more Competitors

Flock to the Rebels, and their power growes ſtrong.

Enter another Meſſenger.

Meſ. My Lord, the Army of great Buckingham.

Rich. Out on ye, Owles, nothing but Songs of Death.

He ſtriketh him.

There, take thou that, till thou bring better newes,

Meſ. The newes I have to tell your Majefty,
Is, that by ſudden Floods, and fall of Waters,
Buckingham's Army is diſpers'd and ſcatter'd,
And he himself ſwandred away alone,
No man knows whether.

Rich. I cry thee mercy ;

There is my Purſe, to cure that blow of thine.

Hath any well adviſed friend proclaim'd

Reward to him that brings the Traytor in ?

Meſ. Such Proclamation hath been made, my Lord.

Enter another Meſſenger.

Meſ. Sir Thomas Lovell, and Lord Marquſe Dorſet,
'Tis faid, my Liege, in York, thire are in Armes:

But this good comfort bring I to your Highneſſe,

The Britain Navy is diſpers'd by Tempeſt.

Richmond in Dorſet-thire ſent out a Boat
Unto the shore, to aske those on the Banks,

If they were his Aſſiſtants, yea, or no ?

Who anſw'd him, they came from Buckingham,

Upon his party: he miſtruſting them,

Hoys'd faile, and made his courſe again for Britain.

Rich. March on, march on, ſince we are up in Armes,
If not to fight with Forreign Enemies,

Yet to beat down these Rebels here at home.

Enter Catesby.

Cat. My Liege, the Duke of Buckingham is taken,
That is the best newes, that the Earl of Richmond

Y. y. 2

Is

["The Life and Death of Richard the third.", "537", "Let's lack no Discipline, make no delay,\nFor, Lords, to morrow is a bufie day.", "Exeunt.", "Enter Richmond, Sir William Brandon, Oxford, and Dorfet.", "Richm. The weary Sun hath made a Golden fet,\nAnd by the bright Traet of his fiery Carre,\nGives token of a goodly day to morrow,\nSir William Brandon, you shall bear my Standard :", "Give me fome Ink and Paper in my Tent :", "I'll draw the Form and Modell of our Battell,", "Limit each Leader to his feveral Charge,", "And part in juſt proportion our ſmall Power.", "My Lord of Oxford, you Sir William Brandon,", "And you Sir Walter Herbert stay with me :", "The Earl of Pembrook keeps his Regiment :", "Good Captain Blunt, bear my good night to him,", "And by the ſecond hour in the Morning,", "Defire the Earl to fee me in my Tent :", "Yet one thing more (good Captain) doe for me :", "Where is Lord Stanley Quarter'd, doe you know ?", "Blunt. Unieſſe I have miſtane his Colours much,", "(Which well I am aſur'd I have not done.)", "His Regiment lies half a Mile at leaſt", "South, from the mighty power of the King.", "Rich. If without perſil it be poffible,", "Sweet Blunt, make ſome good means to ſpeak with him,\nAnd give him from me, this moſt needfull Note.", "Blunt. P von my ſelf, my Lord, I'll undertake it,", "And ſo God give you quiet reſt to night.", "Rich. Good night, good Captain Blunt :", "Come Gentlemen,", "Let us confult upon to morrows Buiſineſſe ;", "Into my Tent, the Dew is raw and cold.", "They withdraw into the Tent.", "Enter Richard, Ratcliffe, Norfolk, and Catesby.", "Rich. What is't a Clock ?", "Cat. It's Supper time, my Lord, it's nine a Clock.", "King. I will not ſup tonight,", "Give me ſome Ink and Paper :", "What, is my Beaver eafier then it was ?", "And all my Armour laid into my Tent ?", "Cat. It is, my Liege : and all things are in readineſſe.", "Rich. Good Norfolk he thee to thy charge,", "life carefull Watch, chufe truſty Centinells.", "Nor. I go, my Lord.", "Rich. Stir with the Larke to morrow, gentle Norfolk.", "Nor. I warrant you, my Lord.", "Rich. Ratcliffe.", "Rat. My Lord.", "Rich. Send out a Purſuivant at Armes", "To Stanley's Regiment : bid him bring his power", "Before Sun-rifing, leaſt his Son George fall", "Into the blind Cave of eternall night.", "Fill me a Bowle of Wine : give me a Watch :", "Saddle white Surrey for the field to morrow :", "Look that my ſtaves be found, & not too heavy, Ratcliffe.", "Rat. My Lord.", "Rich. Saw it the melancholy Lord Northumberland ?", "Rat. Thomas the Earl of Surrey, and himſelf,", "Much about Cock ſhut time, from Troop to Troop", "Went through the Army, cheering up the Souldiers.", "King. So, I am ſatified : give me a Bowle of Wine,", "I have not that alacrity of Spirit,", "Nor cheer of Mind, that I was want to have,", "Set it down. Is Ink an Paper ready ?", "Rat. It is my Lord.", "Rich. Bid my Guard watch. Leave me.", "Ratcliffe, about the mid of night come to my Tent", "And help to Arme. Leave me I lay.", "Exit Ratcliffe.", "Enter Derby to Richmond in his Tent.", "Derb. Fortune and Victory fit on thy Helme.", "Richm. All comfort that the dark night can affoord,", "Be to thy perſon, noble Father-in-law.", "Tell me, how fares our Noble Mother ?", "Der. I, by Attourney, bleſſe thee from thy Mother,", "Who prays continually for Richmond's good :", "So much for that. The filent houres ſteale on,", "And flaky darkneſſe breaks within the Eaſt.", "In brief, for ſo the ſeafon bids us be,", "Prepare thy Battell early in the morning,", "And put thy Fortune to th' Arbitrement", "Of bloody ſtroaks, and mortall ſtaring Warre :", "I, as I may, that which I would, I cannot,", "With beſt advantage will deceive the time,", "And aide thee in this doubtfull ſhock of Armes.", "But on thy ſide I may not be too forward,", "Leaſt being ſeen, thy Brother, tender George,", "Be executed in his Father's fight.", "Farewell : the leiſure, and the ſteafuſt time", "Cuts off the ceremopious Vows of Love,", "And ample enterchange of ſweet Difcourſe,", "Which to long fundred Friends ſhould dwell upon :", "God give us leiſure for theſe rites of Love.", "Once more adieu, be valiant, and ſpeed well.", "Richm. Good Lords conduct him to his Regiment :", "I'le ſtrive with troubled noyſe, to take a Nap,", "Leaſt leaſen lumber poize me down to morrow,", "When I should mount with wings of Victory :", "Once more, good night kind Lords and Gentlemen.", "Exeunt. Manet Richmond.", "O thou, wholeſe Captain I account my ſelf,", "Look on my Forces with a gracious Eye :", "Put in their hands thy Brunſing Irons of wrath,", "That they may cruſh down with a heavy fall,", "Th' uſurping Helmets of our Adverſaries :", "Make us thy Minifers of Chaſtifement,", "That we may prouſe thee in thy Victory :", "To fee thee I doe commend my watchfull ſouſe,", "Ere I let fall the windows of mine eyes :", "Sleeping, and waking, oh defend me ſtill.", "Sleeps.", "Enter the Ghoſt of Prince Edward, Son to Henry the Sixt.", "Gh. to Ri. Let me ſit heavy on thy ſoule to morrow :", "Think how thou ſtabb'ſt me in the prime of youth", "At Tewksbury ; deſpaire therefore, and die.", "Ghoſt to Richm. Be cheerfull, Richmonds", "For the wronged ſoules", "Of Butcher'd Princes, fight in thy behalf :", "King Henry's ſillue, Richmond comforts thee.", "Enter the Ghoſt of Henry the Sixt.", "Ghoſt. When I was mortall, my Annointed body", "By thee was punched full of holes :", "Think on the Tower, and me: Deſpaire, and die.", "Henry the fixt, bids thee deſpaire, and die.", "To Richm. Virtuous and holy, be thou Conqueror", "Harry that propheſied thou should'ſt be King,", {"bbox": [4

["The Life and Death of Richard the third.", "538", "Enter the Ghoſt of Clarence.", "Ghoſt. Let me fit heavy in thy foule to morrow,\nI that was wah'd to death in Fulsome Wine :\nPoor Clarence, by thy guile betray'd to death :\nTo morrow in the Battell think on me,\nAnd fall thy edgeleſſe Sword, defpaire and dye.", "To Richm. Thou off-spring of the Houſe of Lancaſter,", "The wronged heires of York doe pray for thee,\nGood Angels guard thy Battell, live and flourish.", "Enter the Ghoſts of Rivers, Gray, and Vaughan.", "Riv. Let me fit heavy in thy foule to morrow,\nRivers, that di'd at Pomſfret : defpaire, and die.", "Grey. Think upon Grey, and let thy foule defpaire,", "Vaugh. Think upon Vaughan, and with guilty fear", "Let fall thy Lance, defpair and die.", "All to Richm. Awake.", "And think our wrongs in Richard's Boſome,\nWill conquer. Awake and win the day.", "Enter the Ghoſt of Lord Haſtings.", "Ghoſt. Bloudy and guilty: guilty awake,", "And in a bloudy Battell end thy dayes.", "Think on Lord Haſtings; defpair, and die.", "Haſt. To Richm. Quiet untroubled foul,", "Awake, awake:", "Arm, fight, and conquer, for fair Englands fake.", "Enter the Ghoſts of the two young Princes.", "Ghoſts. Dream on thy Couſins", "Smothered in the Tower :", "Let us be laid within thy boſome Richard,", "And weigh the down to ruine, ſhame, and death.", "Thy Nephews foul bids thee defpair and die.", "Ghoſts to Richm. Sleep Richmoud,", "Sleep in peace, and wake in joy,", "Good Angels guard thee from the Boares annoy,", "Live, and beger a happy race of Kings.", "Edward's unhappy Sons, doe bid thee flourish :", "Enter the Ghoſt of Anne his Wife.", "Ghoſt. to Rich. Richard, thy Wife,", "That wretched Anne thy Wife,", "That never flept a quiet hour with thee,", "Now fills thy fleep with perturbations,", "To morrow in the Battell think on me,", "And fall thy edgeleſſe Sword, defpaire and dye.", "Ghoſt to Richm. Thou quiet foule,", "Sleep thou a quiet ſleep:", "Dream of ſucceſſe, and happy victory,", "Thy Adverfaries Wife doth pray for thee,", "Enter the Ghoſt of Buckingham.", "Ghoſt to Rich. The first was I", "That help'd thee to the Crown :", "The laſt was I that felt thy Tyranny.", "O, in the Battell think on Buckingham,", "And dye in terror of thy guiltineſſe.", "Dream on, dream on, of bloody deeds and death,", "Fainting defpaire; defpairing yield thy breath,", "Ghoſt to Richm. I di'd for hope", "Ere I could lend thee aide ;", "But cheer thy heart, and be thou not difmay'd :", "God, and good Angels fight on Richmond's ſide,", "And Richard fall in height of all his pride.", "Richard starts out of his dreame:", "Rich. Give me another Horſe, bind up my Wounds:", "Have mercy Jefu. Soft. I did but dreame.", "O coward Conſience ! how doſt thou afflіſt me ?", "The Lights burn blew. It is not dead midnight,", "Cold fearfull drops stand on my trembling fleſh :", "What ? doe I fear my ſelf ? There's none else by,\nRichard loves Richard, that is, I am I.", "Is there a Murtherer here ? No; Yes, I am :", "Then flye ? what from my ſelf ? Great reaſon : why ?", "Left I revenge. What ? my ſelf upon my ſelf?", "Alack, I love my ſelf. Wherefore ? For any good", "That I my ſelf, have done upon my ſelf ?", "O no. Alafs, I rather hate my ſelf,", "For hatefull Deeds committed by my ſelf.", "I am a Villain : yet I Lye, I am not.", "Fool, of thy ſelf ſpeak well : Fool, do not flatter.", "My Conſcience hath a thouſumd ſeverall Tongues,", "And every tongue brings in a ſeverall tale,", "And every tale condemns me for a Villain ;", "Perjury, in the high'ſt Degree,", "Murther, ſtern murther, in the dyr'ſt degree,", "All ſeverall fins, all us'd in each degree,", "Throng all to th' Barre, crying all, Guilty, Guilty,\nI ſhall defpair, there is no Creatures loves me 5", "And if I die, no ſoul ſhall pitty me.", "Nay, wherefore ſhould they ? ſince that I my ſelf,", "Finde in my ſelf, no pitty to my ſelf.", "Me thought, the ſoules of all that I had murther'd", "Came to my Tent, every one did threat", "To morrows vengeance on the head of Richard.", "Enter Ratcliffe.", "Rat. My Lord.", "King. Who's there ?", "Rat. Ratcliffe my Lord,'tis I : the early Village Cock", "Hath twice done salutation to the Morn,", "Your friends are up, and buckle on their Armour.", "King. O Ratcliffe, I fear, I fear.", "Rat. Nay, good my Lord, be not afraid of hedges.", "King. By the Apoſtle Paul, hedges to night\nHave ſtroke more terror to the ſoule of Richard,\nThen can the ſubſtance of ten thouſand Souldiers\nArmed in proof, and led by ſhallow Richmond.", "'Tis not yet near day. Come go with me,", "Under our Tents; I'le play the Eafe-dropper,", "To hear if any man ſhrink from me.", "Exeunt Richard and Ratcliffe.", "Enter the Lords to Richmond sitting in his Tent.", "Lords. Good morrow Richmond.", "Rich. Cry you mercy Lords, and watchfull Gentlemen,", "That you have tane a tardy fluggard here ?", "Lords. How have you flept, my Lord ?", "Richm. The ſweeſt ſleep,", "And faireſt boading Dreames,", "That ever entred in a drowſe head,", "Have I ſince your departure had my Lords,", "Me thought their ſoules, whoſe bodies Richard murther'd,", "Came to my Tent, and cried on Victory :", "I promife you my heart is very jocond,", "In the remembrance of ſo fair a Dream.", "How farre into the Morning is it, Lords ?", "Lord. Upon the ſtroke of four.", "Rich. Why then 'tis time to Arme, and give direction.", "His Oration to his Souldiers.", "More then I have ſaid, loving Countrymen,", "The leifure and enforcement of the time", "Forbids to dwell upon : yet remember this,", "God", "God, and the Daies of the Night,\nLike his that hides the Sunne in Night,\nRichar, Richard, Richard,\nHis Daies and Night are over,", {"bbox": [1096, 71

539

God, and our good cause, fight upon our side,
The prayers of holy Saints and wronged foules,
Like high rear'd Bulwarks, stand before our Faces,
(Richard except) thefe whom we fight againft,
Had rather have us win, then him they follow.
For, what is he they follow? Truly Gentlemen,
A bloody Tyrant, and a Homicide:
One rais'd in blood, and one in blood established;
One that made means to come by what he hath,
And flaughter'd thefe that were the means to help him:
A bafe foule Stone, made precious by the foyle
Of Englands Chayre, where he is fauldy fet :
One that hath ever beene Gods Enemy.
Then if you fight againft Gods Enemy,
God will in justice ward you as his Souldiers.
If you do fear to put a Tyrant down,
You fleep in peace, the Tyrant being flain:
If you do fight againft your Countreys Foes,
Your Countreys Fat shall pay your pains the hire.
If you do fight in faguard of your Wives,
Your Wives shall welcome home the Conquerors.
If you doe free your Children from the Sword,
Your Childrens Children quits it in your Age.
Then in the name of God and all thefe rights,
Advance your Standards, draw your willing Swords.
For me, the ranſome of my bold attempt,
Shall be this cold Corps on the Earth's cold face.
But if I thrive, the gain of my attempt,
The leaft of you I shall share his part thereof.
Sound Drummes and Trumpetsboldly, and cheerfully,
God, and Saint George, Richmond, and Victory.

Enter King Richard, Ratcliffe, and Catesby.

King. What faid Northumberland, as touching Richmond?
Rate. That he was never trained up in Armes.
King. He faid the truth : and what faid Surrey then ?
Rate. He ſmil'd and faid, the better for our purpofe.
King. He was in the right, and ſo indeed it is.
Tell the Clock there. Clock strikes.
Give me a Kalender : who ſaw the Sun to day ?
Rate. Not I, my Lord.
King. Then he diſdains to ſhine : for by the Book
He ſhould have brav'd the Eaſt an hour ago,
A black day will it be to ſome body. Ratcliffe.
Rat. My Lord.
King. The Sun will not be ſeen to day,
Thesky doth frown, and lowre upon our Army.
I would the ſewy teares were from the ground.
Not ſhine to day ? why, what is that to me
More then to Richmond ? for the ſelf-fame Heaven
That frowns on me, looks fadly upon him.

Enter Norfolk.

Nor. A me, armee, my Lord, the foes vaunts in the field,
King. Come, buffet, buffet. Caparifon my Horfe,
Call up Lord Stanley, bid him bring his power,
I will lead forth my Soldiers to the plain,
And thus my Battell ſhall be ordered,
My foreward ſhall be drawn in length,
Conſifting equally of Horſe and Foot :
Our Archers ſhall be placed in the midſt ;
John Duke of Norfolk, Thomas Earl of Surrey,
Shall have the leading of the Foot and Horſe.
They thus directed, we will follow

In the main Battell, whole puſſance on either ſide
Shall be, well wing'd with our chiefſt Horſe:
This, and Saint George to boot.
What think't thou, Norfolk?
Nor. A good direction, warlike Soveraign,
This found I on my Tent this Morning.
Fooly of Norfolk, be not ſobold.
For Dickon thy Maſter is bought and ſold.
King. A thing devil'd by the Enemy.
Go Gentlemen, every man to his Charge,
Let not our babling DreaDES affright our Soules :
For Conſcience is a word that Cowards uſe,
Devis'd at first to keep the ſtrong in awe,
Our ſtrong Armes be our Conſcience, Swords our Law.
March on, joyn bravely, let us too't pell mell,
If not to heaven, then hand in hand to hell.
What ſhall I ſay more then I have infer'd ?
Remember whom you are to cope withall,
A fort of Vagabonds, Raſcalls, Run-awayes,
A ſcum of Britains, and bafe Lackey-Pezants,
Whom their o're-cloyed Countrey vomits forth
To deſperate Adventures, and aſſur'd Deſtruction.
You ſleeping faſe, they bring you to unref't :
You having Lands, and bleft with beautious Wives,
They would reſtrain the one, diſtain the other,
And who doth lead them, but a paltry Fellow ?
Long kept in Britain at our Mothers coſt,
A Milk-fop, one that never in his life
Felt ſo much cold, as over ſhooes in Snow :
Let's whip theſe ſtraglers o're the Seas again,
Lash hence theſe over-weening Rages of France,
Theſe famiſh'd Beggars, weary of their lives,
Who (but for dreaming on this ſond exploſe)
For want of means (poor Rats) had hang'd theſeſelves.
If we be conquered, let men conquer us,
And not theſe baſtard-Britains, whom our Fathers
Have in their own Land beaten, bobb'd, and thump'd,
And on Record, left them the heires of ſhame.
Shall theſe enjoy our Lands ? lie with our Wives ?
Ravifh our Daughters? Drumme afar off.
Heark, I hear their Drumme,
Right Gentlemen of England, fight boldly yeomen,
Draw Archers, draw your Arrowes to the head,
Spurre your proud Horſes hard, and ride in blood,
Amaze the welkin with your broken ſtaves.
Enter a Melfenger.
What ſayes Lord Stanley, will he bring his power ?
Mef. My Lord, he doth deny to come.
Kin. Oſt with his Son George's head.
Nor. My Lord, the Enemy is paſt the Marſh :
After the Bartell let George Stanley die.
King. A thorand hearts are great within my boſome.
Advance our Standards, fet upon our Foes,
Our ancient word of Courage, fair Saint George
Inſpire us with the ſpleen of ſiery Dragons :
Upon them, Victory fits on our helps.
Alarum. Excursions. Enter Catesby.
Cat. Refcue, my Lord of Norfolk,
Refcue, Refcue :
The King enacts more wonders then a man,
Daring an oppoſite to every danger :
His Horſe is ſlain, and all on foot he fights,
Seeking for Richmond in the throat of death :
Refcue, fair Lord, or eſſe the day is loſt.
Alarums. Enter.

The Life of Henry the Eighth.

Beyond thoughts compasse, that former fabulous Story
Being now seen, potible enough, got credit
That Bevis was beleev'd.

Buc. Oh you go farre.

Nor. As I belong to worth, and affect
In honour, honesty, the tract of ev'ry thing,
Would by a good Discounter lofe fome life,
Which Actions self, was tongue to.

Buc. All was Royall,

To the dispoſing of it, nought repell'd,
Order gave each thing view. The Office did
Diflinſtly his full Function: who did guide,
I mean who fet the Body, and the Limbs
of this great Sport together?

Nor. As you gueſſe:
Once certes, that promifes no Element
In ſuch a bufineſſe.

Buc. I pray you, who, my Lord ?

Nor. All this was ordered by the good Difference
Of the right Reverend Cardinall of York,

Buck. The devil ſpeed him: No mans Pye is freed
from his ambitious ſinger. What had he
To do in theſe ſierce Vanities? I wonder,
That ſuch a Keech can with his very bulk
Take up the Rayes oth' beneficiall Sun ;
And keep it from the Earth.

Nor. Surely, Sir,

There's in him ſtuffe, that put's him to theſe ends:
For being not propt by Anceſtry, whole grace
Chalks Suſeſſois their way; nor call'd upon
For high ſeats done to th' Crown; neither Allied
To eminent Aſſiſtants; but Spider-like
Out of his ſelf-drawing Web. O! gives us note,
The force of his own merit makes his way,
A gift that heaven gives for him, which buyes
A place next to the King.

Abur. I cannot tell

What heaven hath given him: let ſome Graver eye
Pierce into that, but I can fee his Pride
Peep through each part of him: whence has he that,
If not from Hell ? the Devil is a Niggard,
Or has given him all before, and he begins
A new hell in himſelf.

Abur. Why the Devil,

Upon this French going out, took he upon him
(Without the privity o'th' King) t'appoint
Who ſhould attend on him ? He makes up the File
Of all the Gentry ; for the moſt part ſuch
To whom as great a Charge, as little Honour
To whom meant to lay upon: and his own Letter
The Honourable Board of Council, out
Muſt fetch him in, he Papers.

Abur. I do know

Kinfmen of mine, three at the leaſt, that have
By this, ſo ſicken'd their Eſtates, that never
They ſhall abound as formerly.

Buc. O many

Have broke their Backs with laying Mannors on 'em
For this great Journey. What did this vanity
But minifter communication of
A moſt poor ilſue.

Nor. Grievingly, I think.

The Peace between the French and us, not values
The Coſt that did conclude it.

Buc. Every man,

After the hideous ſtorm that follow'd, was

A thing inſpired, and not consulting, broke
Into a generall Propheſie; That this Tempeſt
Daſhing the Garment of this Peace, aboaded
The ſudden breach on't.

Nor. Which is budded out :

For France hath flaw'd the League, and hath attach'd
Our Merchants goods at Burdeaux.

Abur. Is it therefore

Th'ambaffador is filenc'd ?

Nor. Marry is't.

Abur. A proper Title of a Peace, and purchas'd

At a ſuperfluous rate.

Buc. Why all this bufineſſe

Our Reverend Cardinall carried.

Nor. Like it your Grace,

The State takes notice of the private difference
Betwixt you, and the Cardinall. I advife you
(And take it from a heart that wishes towards your
Honour, and plentiouſ Safety) that you read
The Cardinals Malice, and his Potency

Together: To confider further, that

What his high Hatred would effect, wants not
A Minifter in his Power. You know his Nature,

That he's revengefull; and I know, his Sword
Hath a ſharp edge: It's long, and't may be ſaid
It reaches farre, and where 'twill not extend,

Thither he darts it. Bofome up my counſell,

You'll find it wholeſome. Loe, where comes that Rock
That I advife your ſhunning.

Enter Cardinall Wolfey, the Purſe born before him,
certain of the Guard, and two Secretaries with Pa-
pers: the Cardinall in his paſſage fixeth his eye on
Buckingham, and Buckingham on him, both full of
difdain.

Car. The Duke of Buckingham's Surveyor ? Ha ?

Where's his Examination ?

Secr. Here, ſo pleafe you.

Car. Is he in perſon ready ?

Secr. I, an't pleafe your Grace.

Car. Well, we ſhall then know more, and Buckingham
SHall leſſen his big look.

Exeunt Cardinall and his train.

Buc. This Butchers Curre is venom'd-mouth'd, and I
Have not the power to muzzle him, therefore beſt
Not wake him in his flumber. A Beggars book,
Out-worths a Nobles blood.

Nor. What, are you chaſ'd?

Aske God for Tem'prance, that's th'appliance onely
Which your diſeaſe requires.

Buc. I read in's looks

Matter againſt me, and his eye revil'd
Me as his abjeſt objeſt, at this inſant
He bores me with ſome trick; He's gone to th' King :
I'le follow, and out-ſtare him.

Nor. Stay, my Lord,

And let your Reaſon with your Choller queſtion
What 'tis you go about: to climb the ſeep hills
Requires flow pace at firſt. Anger is like

A full hot Horſe, who being allow'd his way
Self-mettle tires him: Not a man in England
Can advife me like you: Be to your ſelf,

As you would to your Friend.

Buc. I'le to the King,

And from a mouth of Honour, quite cry down

This

The Life of King Henry the Eighth.

The other moiety ere you aske is given,
Repeat your will, and take it.

### Quee.
Thank your Majesty

That you would love your self, and in that love
Not unconsidered leave your honour, nor
The dignity of your Office; is the point
Of my Petition.

### King.
Lady mine, proceed.

### Quee.
I am sollicited not by a few,

And that of true condition ; That your Subjeets
Are in great grievance : There have been Commissions
Sent down among'em, which hath flaw'd the heart
Of all their Loyalties ; wherein, although
My good Lord Cardinall, they vent reproaches
Moft bitterly on you, as putter on
Of these exactions: yet the King, our Maſter,
(Not Whofe honour heaven ſhield from foile ; even he eſcapes
Language unmannerly : yea, ſuch which breaks
The fides of Loyalty, and almoſt appears
in loud Rebellion.

### Norſ.
Not almoſt appears,

It doth appear : for, upon these Taxations,
The Clothiers all, not able to maintain
The many to them longing, have put off
The Spinſlers, Carders, Fullers, Weavers, who
Unfit for other life, compell'd by hunger,
And lack of other means, in deſperate manner
Daring th' event to th' teeth, are all in uprore,
And danger ferves among them.

### King.
Taxation ?

Wherein ? and what Taxation ? My Lord Cardinall,
You that are blam'd for it alike with us,
Know you of this Taxation ?

### Card.
Pleafe you, Sir,

I know but of a ſingle part in ought
Pertains to th' State: and front but in that ſile
Where others tell ſteps with me.

### Quee.
No, my Lord ?

You know no more then others ? But you frame
Things that are known alike, which are not wholſome
To those which would not know them, and yet muſt
Perforce be their acquaintance. These exactions
(Whereof my Sovereign would have note) they are
Moſt peſtilent to th' hearing, and to bear'em,
The Back is Sacrifice to th' load ; They ſay
They are devis'd by you, or else you ſuffer
Too hard an exclamation.

### King.
Still Exaſtion :

The nature of it, in what kind, let's know,
Is this Exaſtion ?

### Quee.
I am much too venterous

In tempting of your patience, but am boldned
Under your promis'd pardon. The Subjeets grief
Comes through Commissions, which compells from each
The fixt part of his Subſtance, to be levied
Without delay ; and the pretence for this
Is nam'd, your Wars in France: this makes bold mouths,
Tongues ſpit their duties out, and cold hearts freeze
Allegiance in them; their curſes now
Live where their prayers did : and it's come to paff,
This traſtable obedience is a ſtave
To each incenſed Will: I would your Highneſſe
Would give it quick confideration ; for
There is no primer bafeſſeſſe.
### King.
By my life,
This is againſt our pleafure.

### Card.
And for me,

I have no further gone in this, then by
A ſingle voyce, and that not paſt me, but
By learned approbation of the Judges: if I am
Traduc'd by ignorant tongues, which neither know
My faculties nor perſon, yet will be
The Chronicles of my doing : Let me ſay,
'Tis but the fate of Place, and the rough Brake
That Virtue muſt go through ; we muſt not ſtint
Our neceſſary actions, in the fear
To cope malicious Cenſurers, which ever,
As ray'nous Fifeſhs doe a Veffell follow
That is new trimm'd ; but benefit no further
Then vainly longing. What we oft doe beſt,
By ſick interpreters (once weak ones) is
Not ours, or not allow'd ; what worſt, as oft
Hitting a groſſer quality, is cri'd up
For our beſt Act : if we ſtand ſtill,
In fear our motion will be mock'd, or carp'd at,
We ſhould take root here, where we ſir ;
Or fir State Statues onely.

### King.
Things done well,

And with a care, exempt themſelves from fear:
Things done without example, in their iffue
Are to be fear'd. Have you a Předſt
Of this Comſmission ? I believe, not any.
We muſt not rend our Subjeets from our Lawes,
And ſtick them in our Will. Sixt part of each ?
A trembling Contribution: why, we take
From every tree, kop, bark, and part oth' timber:
And though we leave it with a root thus hackt,
The Aire will drink the Sap. To every County
Where this is queſtion'd, ſend our Letters, with
Free pardon to each man that has deni'd
The Force of this Comſmission: pray look too't ;
I pat it to your care.

### Card.
A word with you.

Let there be Letters writ to every Shire,
Of the Kings grace and pardon: the grieved Commons
Hardly conceive of me. Let it be nois'd,
That through our Interceſſion, this Revokement
And Pardon comes: I ſhall anon advife you
Further in the proceeding.

Exit Secret.

### Enter Surveyor.

### Quee.
I am forry that the Duke of Buckingham
Is run in your diſpleasure.

### Quee.
It grieves many :
The Gentleman is Learn'd, and a moſt rare Speaker,
To Nature none more bound, his training ſuch,
That he may furniſh and inſtruct great Teachers,
And never ſeek for aid out of himself: yet ſee,
When theſe ſo Noble benefits ſhall prove
Not well diſpoſ'd, the mind growing once corrupt
They turn to vicious ſorms, ten times more ugly
Then ever they were fair. This man ſo compleat,
Who was enrold 'mongſt wonders ; and when we
Almoſt with ravish'd liftning, could not find
His hour of ſpeech, a minute : He, (my Lady)
Hath into monſtrous habiſs put the Graces
That once were his, and is become as black,
As if befear'd in hell. Sit by Us, you ſhall hear
(This was his Gentleman in truſt) of him
Things to ſtrike Honour ſad. Bid him recount
The fore-recited praſtifes, whereof
We cannot feel too little, hear too much,

Card.

545

Card. Stand forth & with bold spirit relate what you
Mort like a careful Subject have collected
Out of the Duke of Buckingham.

Kin. Speak freely.

Sur. First, it was useful with him; every day
It would infect his Speech: That if the King
Should without influence dye; he'll carry it so
To make the Scepter his. Thefe very words
I've heard him utter to his Sonne in Law,
Lord Abergary, to whom by oath he menac'd
Revenge upon the Cardinal.

Card. Please your Highneſſe, note
This dangerous conception in this point,
Not friended by his wish to your High perſon
His will is moſt malignant, and it stretches
Beyond you to your friends.

Queen. My learned Lord Cardinal,
Deliver all with Charity.

Kin. Speak on ;

How grounded he his Title to the Crown
Vpon our faile; to this point haſt thou heard him,
At any time ſpeak ought?

Sur. He was brought to this,

By a vain Prophetic of Nicholas Henton.

Kin. What was that Henton ?

Sur. Sir, a Chantreux Fryer,

His Confeſſor, who fed him every minute
With words of Sovereignty.

Kin. How know'ft thou this ?

Sur. Not long before your Highneſſe ſped to France,
The Duke being at the Roſe, within the Pariah
Saint Lawrence Poultney, did of me demand
What was the ſpeech among the Londoners,
Concerning the French Journey. I repli'd,
Men fear the French would prove perſidious
To the King's danger: prefently, the Duke
Said, 'twas the fear indeed, and that he doubted
Twould prove the verity of certain words
Spoke by a holy Monk, that oft, ſayes he,
Hath ſent to me, wifhing me to permit
John de la Car, my Chaplain, a choyce houre
To hear from him a matter of ſome moment:
Whom after under the Comſsionns Scale,
He ſollemnly had ſworn, that what he ſpoke
My Chaplain to no Creature living, but
To me, should utter, with deme ſe Confidence,
This pawſingly entu'd; neither the King nor's Heires
(Tell you the Duke) ſhall proſper, bid him ſtive
To the love oth' Commonalty, the Duke
Shall govern England.

Queen. If I know you well,

You were the Duke's Surveyor, and loft your Office
On the complaint oth'. Tenants; take good heed
You charge not in your ſpleen a Noble perſon,
And ſpoyle your Noble Soule; I ſay, take heed ;
Yes, heartily I beſeech you,
Kin. Let him on. Go forward.
Sur. On my Soule, I'll ſpeak but truth.
I told my Lord the Duke, by th' Devils illuſions
The Monk might be deceiv'd, and that 'twas dangerous
For this to ruminate on this ſo farre, untill
It ſorg'd him ſome deſign, which being believ'd
It was much like to doe: He anſwer'd, Tuth,
It can doe me no dammage; adding further,
That had the King in his laſt fickneſſe fail'd,
The Cardinal's and Sir Thomas Lovell's heads

Should have gone off.

Kin. Ha ? What, ſo rank ? Ah, ha,

There's miſchief in this man; can't thou ſay further?

Sur. I can, my Liege.

Kin. Proceed.

Sur. B.ing at Greenwich,

After your Highneſſe had reprov'd the Duke

About Sir William Blumer.

(vant,

Kin. I remember of ſuch a time, being my ſworn ſer-
The Duke recein'd him his. But on: what hence ?

Sur. If (quoth he) I for this had been committed,
As to the Tower, I thought ; I would have plaid
The Part my Father meant to act upon
Th' Uſurper Richard, who being at Salisbury,
Made ſuit to come in's preference; which if granted,
(As he made ſemblance of his duty) would
Have put his Knife into him.

Kin. A Gyant Traytor,

Card. Now, Madam, may his Highneſſe live in freedome,
And this man out of P. ifon.

Queen. God mend all.

(ſay'ſt ?

Kin. There's ſomething more would out of thee; what
Sur. After the Duke his Father, with the Knife

He ſtretch'd him, and with one hand on his Daguer,
Another ſpread on's breast, mounting his eyes,
He did diucharge a horrid Oath, whole tenour
Was, were he evil us'd, he would out-go
His Father, by as much as a performance
Do's an irrefolure purpose.

Kin. There's his period,
To ſheath his Knife in us : he is attach'd ;
Call him to prefent Triall: if he may
Find mercry in the Law, 'tis his ; if none,
Let him not feek't of us: By day and night
He's Traytor to th' height.

Exeunt.

## Scena Tertia.

Enter L. Chamberlain, and L. Sandys.

L. Ch. Is't poffible the ſpells of France should juggle
Men into ſuch ſtange Myſteries ?

L. San. New cuitomes,

Though they be never ſo ridiculons,
Nay let 'em be unmant') yet are follow'd.

L. Ch. As faire as I fee, all the good our English

Have got by the late Voyage, is but meerly
A fit or two oth' face, (ut they are ſhrewd ones)
For when they hold 'em, you would ſwear directly
Their very Noſes had been Countellours

To Pepin or Clotharius, they keep State ſo.

L. San. They have all new legs,
And lame ones; one would take it,
That never fee 'em pace before, the Spaven
A Spring-halt reign'd among 'em,

L. Ch. Death, my Lord,
Their cloathes are after ſuch a Pagan cut too's,
That ſure th' have worn out Chriſtendome: how now ?
What newes, Sir Thomas Lovell ?

Enter Sir Thomas Lovell.

Lovell. Faith my Lord,
I hear of none but the new Proclamation,
That's clapt upon the Court Gate.

Zz

L. Cham.

547

I am beholding to you: cheer your neighbour:
Ladies, you are not merry; Gentlemen,
Whoofe fault is this?

San. The red Wine first must rife

In their fair Checks, my Lord, then we shall have 'em
Talk us to silence.

An. Bu. You are a merry Gamester,

My Lord Sands.

San. Yes, if I make my play a

Here's to your Ladship, and pledge it, Madam:
For 'tis to such a thing.

An. B. You cannot then me.

Drumme and Trumpet, Chambers discharged.

San. I told your Grace, they would talk anon.

Card. What's that?

Cham. Look out there, some of ye.

Car. What warlike voyce.

And to what end is this? Nay, Ladies, fear not;
By all the lawes of Warre y're privileged.

Enter a Servant.

Cham. How now, what is't?

Serv. A noble troup of Strangers,

For so they seem; th' have left their Barge and Landed,
And hither make, as great Embassadors
From forrain Princes.

Card. Good Lord Chamberlain,

Gogive'em welcome; you can speak the French tongue
And pray receive'em Nobly, and conduct'em
Into our prefence, where this heaven of beauty
Shall thine at full upon them. Some attend him.

All arife, and Tables remov'd.

You have now a broken Bankct, but weel mend it.
A good disgeftion to you all; and once more
I howre a welcome on ye: welcome all

Hoboyes, Enter King and others as Maskers, habited like
Shepheard's, upher'd by the Lord Chamberlain. They
passe directly before the Cardinall, and gratefully fa-
lute him.

A Noble Company: what are their pleasures?

Cham. Because they speak no English, thus they pray'd
To tell your Grace: that having heard by fame
Of this so Noble and so fair Affembly,

This night to meet here, they could doe no leffe,
(Out of the great reſpect they bear to beauty)

But leave their Flocks, and under your fair conduct
Crave leave to view thefe Ladies, and entreat
An hour of Revels with 'em.

Card. Say, Lord Chamberlain,

They have done my poor houſe grace:

For which I pay 'em a thousand thanks,

And pray 'em take their pleasures.

Chooſe Ladies, King and Anne Bullen.

King. The faireft hand I ever touch'd: O Beauty,
Till now I never knew thee.

Mufick, Dance.

Card. My Lord.

Cham. Your Grace.

Card. Pray tell 'em thus much from me :

There should be one amongst 'em by his perſon
More worthy this place then my ſelf, to whom
(If I but knew him) with my love and duty

I would further end it.

Whisper.

Cham. I will, my Lord.

Car. What say they?

Cham. Such a one, they all confefſe

There is indeed, which they would have your Grace
Find out, and he will take it.

Card. Let me fee then,

By all your good leaves, Gentlemen, here I'll make
My roall choyce.

Kin. Ye have found him Cardinall,

You hold a fair Affembly, you doe well, Lord.

You are a Church-man, or I'll tell you Cardinall,
I should judge now unhappily.

Card. I am glad.

Your Grace is grown so pleafant.

Kin. My Lord Chamberlain,

Prethee come hither, what fair Lady's that?

Cham. An't please your Grace,

Sir Thomas Bullens Daughter, the Viscount Rochford,
One of her Highneſſe women.

Kin. By Heaven he is a dainty one; Sweet heart,
I were unmannerly to take you out,
And not to kiffle you. A health Gentlemen,
Let it go round.

Card. Sir Thomas Lovell, is the Banquet ready
Ith' Privy Chamber ?

Lov. Yes, my Lord.

Card. Your Grace

I fear, with dancing is a little heated.

Kin. I fear too much.

Card. There's fresh aire, my Lord,
In the next Chamber.

Kin. Lead in your Ladies every one: Sweet Partner,
I muſt not yet forſake you: let's be merry,

Good my Lord Cardinall: I have half a dozen healths

To drink to theſe fair Ladies, and a meaſure

To lead 'em once again, and then let's dreame

Who's beſt in favour. Let the Mufick knock it.

Exeunt with Trumpets.

Actus Secundus. Scena Prima.

Enter two Gentlemen at ſeverall doors.

1. Whether away fo faſt ?

2. O, God fave ye :

Even to the Hall, to hear what ſhall become
Of the great Duke of Buckingham.

1. I'le fave you

That labour, Sir. All's now done but the Ceremony
Of bringing back the Prifoner.

2. Were you there ?

1. Yes indeed was I.

2. Pray ſpeak what has happen'd.

1. You may gueſſe quickly what.

2. Is he found guilty ?

1. Yes truly is he,

And condemn'd upon't.

2. I am forry for't

1. So are a number more.

2. But pray how palt it?

1. I'le tell you in a little. The great Duke
Came to the Barre ; where, to his accuſations

He pleaded ſtill not guilty, and alledged

Many ſharp reaſons to defeat the Law.

The King's Attrieuy on the contrary ;

Urg'd on the Exam nations, proofs, confessions

Zz 2

Of

["The Life of King Henry the Eighth.", "548", "Of divers witneſſes, which the Duke defir'd\nTo him brought *viva voce* to his face ;\nAt which appear'd againſt him, his Surveyor,\nSir *Gilbert Pecke* his Chancellour, and *John Car*,\nConſelor to him, with that Devill Monke,\n*Hopkins*, that made this miſchief.", "2. That was he", "That fed him with his prophecies.", "1. The fame,", "All theſe acus'd him ſtrongly which he fain\nWould have flung from him; but indeed he could not;\nAnd for his Peeres upon this evidence,\nHave found him guilty of high Treafon. Much\nHe ſpoke, and learnedly for life; But all\nWas either pittied in him, or forgotten.", "2. After all this, how did he fear himself?", "1. When he was brought agen to th' Bar, to hear\nHis Knell rung out, his Judgement, he was firr'd.\nWith ſuch an Agony, he ſwear extreamly,\nAnd ſomething ſpoke in cholier, ill, and haſtly.\nBut he fell to himſelf again, and ſwectly,\nIn all the reſt ſhow'd a moſt noble patience.", "2. I doe not think he feares death.", "1. Sure he does not,", "He never was so womaniſh, the caufe", "He may a little grieve at.", "2. Certainly,", "The Cardinall is the end of this.", "1. 'Tis likely,", "By all conjectures: Firſt *Kildares* Attaindure;\nThen Deputy of *Ireland*, who remov'd,\nEarl *Surrey* was ſent chither, and in haſte too,\nLeaſt he ſhould help his Father.", "2. That trick of State", "Was a deep envious one.", "1. At his return,", "No doubt he will requite it; this is noted", "(And generally) who ever the King favours,\nThe Cardinall ſtantly will find employment,\nAnd far enough from Court too.", "2. All the Commons", "Hate him perniciously, and o' my Conſcience", "With him ten faddom deep: This Duke as much", "They love and doat on: call him bountious *Buckingham*,\nThe Mirror of all courteſie.", "Enter *Buckingham* from his Arraignment. *Tipſtaves before him, the Axe with the edge towards him, Halberds on each side, accompanied with Sir Thomas Lovell; Sir Nicholas Vaux, Walter Sands, and common people, &c.*", "1. Stay there Sir,", "And fee the noble ruin'd man you ſpeak of.", "2. Let's ſtand close and behold him.", "Buck. All good people,", "You that thus have come to pitty me;\nHear what I ſay, and then go home and loſe me.\nI have this day receiv'd a Traytors judgement,\nAnd by that name muſt die; yet heaven bear witneſſe,\nAnd if I have a Conſcience, let it ſink me,\nEven as the Axe falls, ſI be not faithfull,", "To th' Law I bear no malice for my death,\n*T has done upon the premifes, but juſtice:", "But thofe that fought it, I could with more Chriſtians:", "(Be what they will) I heartily ſorgive 'em;\nYet let 'em look they glory not in miſchief;", "Nor build their evils on the Graves of great men;\nFor then, my guiltleſſe blood muſt cry again 'em.\nFor further life in this world I ne're hope,", "Nor will I ſue, although the King have mercies\nMore then I dare make faults.", "You few that lov'd me,\nAnd dare be bold to weep for *Buckingham*,\nHis Noble Friends and Fellowes; whom to leave\nIs onely bitter to him, onely dying:", "Go with me like good Angels to my end,\nAnd as the long divorce of Steele falls on me,\nMake of your Prayers one ſweet ſacrifice,\nAnd lift my Soule to heaven.", "Lead on a God's name.", "*Lovell.* I doe beſeech your Grace for charity,\nIf ever any malice in your heart", "Were hid againſt me, now to ſorgive me frankly.", "*Buck.* Sir *Thomas Lovell*, I as free ſorgive you\nAs I would be ſ forgiven: I ſorgive all.", "There cannot be thofe numberleſſe offences\nGainſt me, that I cannot take peace with:\nNo black envy ſhall make my *Grace*.", "Commend me to his Grace:", "And if he ſpeak of *Buckingham*; pray tell him,\nYou met him half in heaven: my vows and prayers\nYet are the Kings; and till my Soule forſake,\nShall cry for bleſſings on him. May he live\nLonger then I have time to tell his yeares :\nEver belov'd and loving, may his Rule be :\nAnd when old time ſhall lead him to his end,\nGoodneſſe and he, fill up one Monument.", "*Lov.* To th' water ſide I muſt conduct your Grace,\nThen give my Charge up to Sir *Nicholas Vaux*,\nWho undertakes you to your end.", "*Vaux.* Prepare there,\nThe Duke is comming: See the Barge be ready,\nAnd fit it with ſuch furniture as ſuits\nThe Greatneſſe of his perſon.", "*Buck.* Nay, Sir *Nicholas*,\nLet it alone; my ſtate now will but mock me.\nWhen I came hither, I was Lord High Conſtable,\nAnd Duke of *Buckingham*: now, poor *Edward Bohn*;\nYet I am richer then my bafe Accufers,\nThat never knew what Truth meant: I now ſeale it;\nAnd with that blood will make 'em one day groan for't.\nMy Noble Father, *Henry of Buckingham*.", "Who firſt rais'd head againſt Uſurping *Richard*,\nFlying for ſuccour to his Servant *Banifter*,\nBeing diſtreft, was by that wretch betraid,\nAnd without Tryall, ſell; Gods peace be with him.\n*Henry* the Seventh ſucceeding, truly pittying", "*Henry* the Seventh ſucceeding, truly pittying\nMy Fathers loſſe; like a moſt Royall Prince\nReſor'd me to my Honours: and out of ruines\nMade my Name once more Noble. Now his Son,", "*Henry* the Eight, Life, Honours, Name, and all\nThat made me happy; at one ſtroke has taken\nFor ever from the World. I had my Tryall,\nAnd muſt needs ſay, a Noble one; which makes me", "A little happier then my wretched Father :\nYet thus farre are we one in Fortunes, both", "Fell by our Servants, by thofe Men we lov'd moſt :\nA moſt unnaturall and faithleſſe Service.\nHeaven has an end in all: yet, you that hear me,", "This from a dying man receive as certain :\nWhere you are liberall of your loves and Counſells,", "Be ſure you be not loſſe; for thofe you make friends,", "And", "And give\nThe leaſt\nLike wat\nBut when\nthey for\nOliver\nFarewell\nHow\nthey do\nhave do\n\n1. O,\nthat\nthey were\n\n2. If it\nwere\n\n3. This\nfull\nof an\nenfla\n\n1. Good\nwhat ma\n\n2. This\nhong\n\n3. Let\nnot do\n\n4. I am\n\n5. I ha\n\n6. I yes.\n\n7. When\n\n8. the con\n\n9. toop th\n\n10. that di\n\n11. But\n\n12. If\n\n13. found\n\n14. other\n\n15. the\n\n16. The King\n\n17. for home\n\n18. to\n\n19. That will\n\n20. the King\n\n21. as all thin\n\n22. I. Tis\n\n23. and me\n\n24. For not be\n\n25. the Arch\n\n26. 1. I thi\n\n27. you have\n\n28. that the\n\n29. Will ha\n\n30. I. 'Tis\n\n31. We are to\n\n32. let think", "1. O,\nthat\nthey were\n\n2. If it\nwere\n\n3. This\nfull\nof an\nenfla\n\n1. Good\nwhat ma\n\n2. This\nhong\n\n3. Let\nnot do\n\n4. I am\n\n5. I ha\n\n6. I yes.\n\n7. When\n\n8. the con\n\n9. toop th\n\n10. that di\n\n11. But\n\n12. If\n\n13. found\n\n14. other\n\n15. the\n\n16. The King\n\n17. for home\n\n18. to\n\n19. That will\n\n20. the King\n\n21. as all thin\n\n22. I. Tis\n\n23. and me\n\n24. For not be\n\n25. the Arch\n\n26. 1. I thi", "1. Good\nWhat ma\n\n2. This\nhong\n\n3. Let\nnot do\n\n4. I am\n\n5. I ha\n\n6. I yes.\n\n7. When\n\n8. the con\n\n9. toop th\n\n10. that di\n\n11. But\n\n12. If\n\n13. found\n\n14. other\n\n15. the\n\n16. The King\n\n17. for home\n\n18. to\n\n19. That will\n\n20. the King\n\n21. as all thin", "1. I et", "2. I am", "3. I am", "4. I ha", "5. I yes.", "6. When\n\n7. the con\n\n8. toop th\n\n9. that di\n\n10. that di\n\n11. But\n\n12. If\n\n13. found\n\n14. other\n\n15. the\n\n16. The King\n\n17. for home\n\n18. to\n\n19. That will\n\n20. the King\n\n21. as all thin", "1. Yes.", "2. I am", "3. I ha", "4. I yes.", "5. When\n\n6. the con\n\n7. toop th\n\n8. that di\n\n9. that di\n\n10. That will\n\n11. the King\n\n12. for home\n\n13. to\n\n14. That will\n\n15. the King\n\n16. as all thin", "1. But", "2. I am", "3. I ha", "4. I yes.", "5. When\n\n6. the con\n\n7. toop th\n\n8. that di\n\n9. that di\n\n10. That will\n\n11. the King\n\n12. for home\n\n13. to\n\n14. That will\n\n15. the King\n\n16. as all thin", "1. I am", "2. I ha", "3. I yes.", "4. When\n\n5. I ha\n\n6. I yes.", "7. The Arch", "8. 1. I thi", "9. You have", "10. That the\n\n11. Will ha\n\n12. I. 'Tis\n\n13. We are to\n\n14. let think", "1. I am", "2. I ha", {"bbox": [1083,

549

And give your hearts to, when they once perceive
The leaft rub in your fortunes, fall away

Like water from ye, never found again
But where they mean to sink ye; all good people
Pray for me, I muft now forfale ye; the laft hour
Ofmy long weary life is come upon me :

Farewell; and when you would fay fomething that is faſ,
Speak how I fell.

I have done; and God forgive me.

Exeunt Duke and train.

1. O, this is full of pitty; Sir it calls,

I fear, too many curſes on their heads
That were the Authoſs.

2. If the Duke be guiltieſſe,

'Tis full of woe : yet I can give you inchling
Of an enfuing evil, if it fall,
Greater then this,

1. Good Angels keep it from us :

What may it be ? you doe not doubt my faith, Sir ?

2. This Secret is ſo weighty: 'twill require

A ſtrong faith to conceale it.

1. Let me have it;

I do not talk much,

2. I am confident ;

You ſhall, Sir: Did you not of late dayes hear
A buzzing of a Separation

Between the King and Katherine ?

1. Yes, but it held not ;

For when the King once heard it, out of anger

He ſent command to the Lord Mayor aſtraight

To ſtop the rumour, and allay the tongues
That diuſperſe it.

2. But that ſlander, Sir,

Iſa found truth now : for it growes agen

Frether then 'e're it was ; and held for certain,

The King will venture at it. Either the Cardinall,
Or ſome about him near, have out of malice

To the good Queen, poffeſt him with a ſeruple
That will undoe him : To confirm this too,
Cardinall *Campeius* is arriv'd, and lately,
As all think, for this buſineſſe.

1. 'Tis the Cardinall ;

And meerrly to revenge him on the Emperour,
For not beſtowing on him at his asking,

The Arch-Biſhopſick of *Toledo*, this is purpós'd.

2. I think

You have hit the marke; but is't not cruell,

That the ſhould feel the ſmart of this ? the Cardinall
Will have his will, and the muſt fall.

1. 'Tis wofull.

We are too open here to argue this :

Let's think in private more.

Exeunt.

## Scena Secundv.

Enter Lord Chamberlain, reading this Letter.

Mr Lord, the Horse, your Lordship ſent for, with
all the care I had, I ſaw well chofen, ridden, and
furniſt'd. They were young and handſome, and of the
beſt breed in the North. When they were ready to ſet out
for London, a man of my Lord Cardinalls, by Commiff-
ion, and main power took 'em from me, with this reaſon :

His Maſter would be ſerv'd before a Subjeſt, if not be-
fore the King, which ſtopp'd our mouths, Sir.

I fear he will indeed; well, let him have them; he will
have all I think.

Enter to the Lord Chamberlain, the Duke of Nor-
folk and Suffolk.

Norf. Well met, my Lord Chamberlain.

Cham. Good day to both your Graces.

Suf. How is the King employ'd?

Cham. I left him private,

Full of ſad thoughts and troubles.

Nor. What's the cauſe?

Cham. It ſeems the Marriage with his Brothers Wife
Has crept too near his Conſcience.

Suf. No, his Conſcience

Has crept too near another Lady.

Norf. 'Tis so;

This is the Cardinalls doing : the King-Cardinall,

That Blind Prieſt, like the eldest Son of Fortune,

Turnes what he lift. The King will know him one day.

Suf. Pray God he doe,

He'll never know himselfe else.

Norf. How holily he works in all his buſineſſe,

And with what zeale ? For now he has crackt the League
Between us and the Emperor (the Queens great Nephew)

He dives into the Kings Soule, and there ſcatters

Dangers, Doubts, wringing of the Conſcience,

Feares, and Deſpaires, and all theſe for his Marriage,

And out of all theſe, to reſtore the King,

He counſells a Divorce, a loffe of her,

That like a Jewell, has hung twenty yeares

About his neck, yet never loft her luſtre :

Of her that loves him with that excellence,

That Angels love good men with : Even of her,

That when the greatest ſtroke of Fortune falls

Will bleſſe the King : and is not this courſe pious ?

Cham. Heaven keep me from ſuch counſell: 'tis moſt true,

Theſe neſes are every where, every tongue ſpeaks 'em,

And every true heart weeps for't. All that dare

Look into theſe affaires, fee this main end,

The French Kings Sifter. Heaven will one day open

The Kings eyes, that to long have flept upon

This bold bad man.

Suff. And free us from his ſlavery.

Norf. We had need pray,

And heartily, for our deliverance ;

Of this Imperious man will work us all

From Princes into Pages : all mens honours

Lie like one lump before him, to be fashion'd

Into what pitch he pleaſe.

Suff. For me, my Lords,

I love him not, nor fear him, there's my Creed :

And I am made without him, to I'le ſtand,

If the King pleaſe : his Curſes and his Bleſſings

Touch me alike: th'are breath I not believe in.

I knew him, and I know him : ſo I leave him.

To him that made him proud, the Pope.

Norf. Let's in ;

And with ſome other buſineſſe, put the King

From theſe ſad thoughts, that work too much upon him.

My Lord, you'll bear us company ?

Cham. Excuse me,

The King has ſent me other-where : Besides

You'll find a moſt unfit time to diſturbe him :

Health to your Lordships.

Zz 3

Nor-

550

Norfolk. Thanks, my good Lord Chamberlain,
Exit Lord Chamberlain, and the King draws the Cur-
tain, and fits reading pensisely.

Suff. How fad he looks ; fure he is much afflicted.

Kin. Who's there ? Ha ?

Norf. Pray God he be not angry. (selfes)

Kin. Who's there I fay ? how dare you thrust you

Into my private Meditations ?

Who am I ? ha ?

Norf. A gracious King, that pardons all offences
Malice ne're meant : Our breach of Duty this way,
Is bufineſſe of Eſtate ; in which, we come
To know your Royall pleasure.

Kin. Ye are too bold :

Go to; I'le make ye know your times of buſineſſe :
Is this an houre for temporall affaires ? ha ?

Enter Wolfey and Campeius with a Commission.

Who's there ? my good Lord Cardinall ? O my Wolfey,
The quiet of my wounded Conſcience ;

Thou art a cure fit for the King ; you'r welcome,
Moft Learned Reverend Sir, into our Kingdome,
Uſe us, and it: my good Lord, have great care,
I be not found a Talker.

Wol. Sir, you cannot :
I would your Grace would give us but an hour
Of private conference.

Kin. We are bufie ; go.

Nor. This Prieſt has no pride in him ?

Suf. Not to ſpeak of :

I would not be ſo ſick though for his place :
But this cannot continue.

Norf. If it doe, I'le venture one heave at him.

Suf. I another.

Exeunt Norfolk, and Suffolk,

Wol. Your Grace has given a Prefident of wifedome
Above all Princes, in committing freely
Your ſeruple to the voyce of Chriſtendome :
Who can beangry now ? what Envy reach you ?
The Spaniard ti'd by blood and favour to her,
Muſt now conſeſſe, if they have any goodneſſe,
The Triall juſt and noble. All the Clerks,
(I mean the Learned ones in Chriſtian Kingdomes).

Have their free voyces. Rome (the Nurſe of Judgement,
Invited by your noble ſelf hath ſent
One generall Tongue unto us. This good man,
This juſt and Learned Prieſt, Cardinall Campeius,
Whom once more I prefent unto your Highneſſe.

Kin. And once more in mine armes I bid him welcome,
And thank the holy Conclave for their loves,
They have ſent me such a Man I wouſd have wiſh'd for.

Cam. Your Grace muſt needs deferne all ſtrangers loves,
You are ſo Noble : To your Highneſſe hand
I tender my Commiffion ; by whose virtue,
The Conrt of Rome commanding : You my Lord
Cardinall of York, are joyn'd with me their Servant,
In the impartiall judging of this buſineſſe.

Kin. Two equall men : The Queen ſhall be acquainted
Forthwith for what you come. Where's Gardiner ?
Wol. I know your Majefty has alwayes lov'd her
So dear in heart, not to deny her that

A Woman of leſſe Place might ask by Law;
Schollars allow'd freely to argue for her.

Kin. I, and the beſt ſhe ſhall have ; and my favour
To him that does beſt, God forbid elie : Cardinall,
Prethee call Gardiner to me, my new Secretary,
I find him a fit fellow.

Enter Gardiner.

Wol. Give me your hand : much joy & favour to you;
You are the Kings now.

Gard. But to be commanded

For ever by your Grace, whoſe hand has rais'd me.

Kin. Come hither Gardiner.

Walks and whispers.

Camp. My Lord of York, was not one Doctor Pace
In this man's place before him ?

Wol. Yes, he was.

Camp. Was he not held a Learned man ?

Wol. Yes ſurely.

Camp. Believe me, there's an ill opinion ſpread then

Even of your ſelf Lord Cardinall,

Wol. How ? of me ?

Camp. They will not ſtick to ſay, you envi'd him ;
And fearing he would rife (he was ſo virtuous)

Kept him a forreign man ſtill, which ſo griev'd him,
That he ran mad, and di'd.

Wol. Heavens peace be with him ;
That's Chriſtian care enough : for living murmurers,
There's places of rebuke. He was a Foole ;
For he would needs be virtuous. That good Fellow,
If I command him, followes my appointment,
I will have none ſo ne're else. Learn this Brother,
We live not to be grip'd by meaner perſons.

Kin. Deliver this with modeſty to th' Queen.

Exit Gardiner.

The moſt convenient place that I can think of,
For ſuch receipt of Learning, is Black Fryers :

There ye ſhall meet about this weighty buſineſſe.

My Wolfey, fee it furniſh'd. O my Lord,
Would it not grieve an able man to leave

So ſweet a Bedfellow ? But Conſcience, Conſcience ;
O 'tis a tender place, and I muſt leave her. (Exeunt)

Scena Tertia.

Enter Anne Bullen, and old Lady.

An. Not for that neither here's the pang that pinches,
His Highneſſe, having liv'd ſo long with her, and the
So good a Lady, that no tongue could ever
Pronounce diſhonour of her ; by my life,
She never knew harm-doing : Oh, now after
So many courſes of the Sun enthroned,
Still growing in a Majefty and pomp, the which
To leave, a thousand fold more bitter, then
'Tisfweet at first t'acquire. After this Procraſſe,
To give her the avant, it is a pitty
Would move a Monſter.

Old La. Hearts of moſt hard temper
Melt and lament for her,

An. Oh Gods will, much better
She ne're had known pomp ; though't be temporall,
Yet if that quarrell, Fortune, doe divorce
It from the bearer, 'tis a ſufferance, panging
As foule and bodies fevering.

Old La. Alas! poor Lady,
She's a ſtranger now again.

An. So much the more
Muſt pitty drop upon her ; verily
I ſwear, 'tis better to be lowly born,

And

551

And range with humble livers in Content,
Then to be peck'd up in a gliftring grief,
And wear a golden sorrow.

Old L. Our content

Is our best having.

Anne. By my troth, and Maidenhead,
I would not be a Queen.

Old L. Behrew me, I would,

And venture Maidenhead for't, and fo would you
For all this spice of your hypocheſſe ;
You that have fo fair parts of Woman on you,
Have (too) a Womans heart, which ever yet
Aſſtred Eminence, Wealth, Soveraignty ;
Which, to ſay footh, are bleſſings; and which gifts
(Saving your mincing) the capacity

Of your soft Chiverell Conſcience, would receive,
If you might please to ſtretch it.

An. Nay, good troth.

Old L. Yes troth & troth: you would not be a Queen?

An. No, not for all the riches under heaven.

Old L. 'Tis ſtrange; a three-pence bow'd now would
Old as I am, to Queen it: but I pray you, (hire me,
What think you of a Dutcheſſe ? have you limbs

To bear that load of Title ?

An. No in truth.

Old L. Then you are weakly made, pluck off a little,
I would not be a young Count in your way,
For more then blushing comes to: If your back
Cannot vouchſaſe this burthen, 'tis too weak
Ever to get a Boy.

An. How you doe talk ;

If wear again, I would not be a Queen,
For all the world.

Old L. In faith for little England

You'll venture an embelling: I my ſelf

Would for Carnarvanſhire, although there long'd

No more to th' Crown but that: Lo, who comes here ?

Enter Lord Chamberlain.

(know

L. Cham. Good morrow, Ladies; what wer't worth to
The ſecret of your conference ?

An. My good Lord,

Not your demand; it values not your asking:
Our Miftres Sorrowes we were pittrying.

Cham. It was a gentle buffeſſe, and becoming

The action of good women, there is hope
All will be well.

An. Now I pray God, Amen.

Cham. You bear a gentle mind, and heavily bleſſings
Follow ſuch Creatures. That you may, fair Lady,
Perceive I ſpeak ſincerely, and high notes
Tane of your many virtues; the Kings Majefty
Commends his good opinion of you, to you; and
Do't purpose honour to you no leſſe flowing,
Then Marchioneffe of Pembrook; to which Title,
A thousand pound a year, Annuall ſupport,
Out of his Grace, he addes.

An. I do not know

What kind of my obedience, I should tender ;

More then my All, is nothing: Nor my Prayers

Are not words ducely hallowed, nor my Wifhes

More worth then empty vanities: yet prayers and wifhes
Are all I can return. 'Befeech your Lordſhip,
Vouchſaſe to ſpeak my thanks, and my obedience,
As from a blushing Handmaid, to his Highneſſe;
Whole health and Royalty I pray for.

Cham. Lady ;

I shall not fail t'approve the fair conceit
The King hath of you. I have perus'd her well,

Beauty and Honour in her are to mingled,

That they have caught the King : and who knowes yet
But from this Lady, may proceed a Jemme,

To lighten all this Ifle ? I'le to the King,
And lay I spoke with you.

Exit Lord Chamberlain.

An. My honour'd Lord.

Old L. Why t his it is: See, ſee,

I have been begging fixteen yeares in Court

(Am yet a Courtier beggarly) nor could

Come pat betwixt too early, and too late.

For any ſuit of pounds : and you, (oh fate)

A very fresh Fifth here; ſie, ſie, ſie upon

This compell'd fortune : have your mouth fill'd up,

Before you open it.

An. This is ſtrange to me.

Old L. How taſtes it ? Is it bitter ? Forty pence, no:

There was no Lady once ('tis an old Story)

That would not be a Queen, that would the not

For all the mud in Egypt; have you heard it ?

An. Come, you are ſleasant.

Old L. With your Theame, I could

O're-mount the Larke : The Marchioneffe of Pembrook?

A thousand pounds a year, for pure reſpect ?

No other obligation ? by my Life,

That promises moe thouands: Honours train

Is longer then his fore-skirt ; by this time

I know your back will bear a Dutcheſſe. Say,

Are you not ſtronger then you were ?

An. Good Lady,

Make your ſelf mirth with your particular ſancy,

And leave me out on't. Would I had no being

If this ſalute my blood a jot; it faints me

To think what follows.

The Queen is comfortleſſe, and we forgetfull

In our long abſence: pray do not deliver,

What here y' have heard to her.

Old L. What doe you think me—Exeunt.

Scena Quarta.

Trumpets, Sonnet, and Cornets.

Enter two Vergers, with ſhort ſilver wands; next them
two Scribes in the habits of Daſtors: after them, the Bi-
ſhop of Canterbury alone; after him, the Bifhops of Lin-
coln, Ely, Rochester, and S. Afaph: next them, with
ſome ſmalt diſtance, followes a Gentleman bearing the
Purse, with the great Seale, and a Cardinals Hat: then
two Priefts, bearing e ch a Silver Croſſe: then a Gentle-
man-Uſher bare-headed, accompanied with a Serjeant at
Armes, bearing a Mace: then two Gentlemen, bearing
two great Silver Pillars: after them, ſide by ſide, the two
Cardinals, two Noble-men, with the Sword and Mace.
The King takes place under the Cloth of State. The two
Cardinals fit under him as Judges. The Queen takes
place ſome diſtance from the King. The Bifhops place
themselves on each ſide the Court in manner of a Conſi-
Story: Below them the Scribes. The Lords fit next the
Bifhops. The reſt of the Attendants ſtand in convenient
order about the Stage.

Card.

552

Car. Whilest our Commission from Rome is read,
Let silence be commanded.
King. What's the need ?
It hath already publickly been read,
And on all fides th' Authority allow'd,
You may then spare that time.

Car. Be't so, proceed.

Seri. Say, Henry K. of England, come into the Court.

Cryer. Henry King of England, &c.

King. Here.

Scribe. Say, Katherine Queen of England,

Come into the Court.

Crier. Katherine Queen of England, &c.

The Queen makes no answer, riles out of her Chayre,
goes about the Court, comes to the King, and kneeles
at his Feet. Then speaks.

Sir, I define you doc me right and Justice,
And to befow your pitty on me; for
I am a moft poor Woman, and a stranger,
Born out of your Dominions: having here
No Judge indifferent, nor no more affurance
Of equall Friendship and Proceeding. Alafs, Sir,
In what have I offended you? What caufe
Hath my behaviour given to your displeasure,
That thus you should proceed to put me off,
And take your good grace from me? Heaven witneſſe,
I have been to you a true and humble Wife,
At all times to your will conformable :

Ever in fear to kindle your Diflike,
Yea, subject to your Countenance: Glad, or forry,
As I faw it inclin'd ? when was the hour
I ever contradicted your Deſire?

Or made it not mine too ? Or which of your Friends
Have I not ſtrove to love, although I knew
He were mine Enemy ? What Friend of mine,
That had to him deri'd your Anger, did I
Continue in my Liking ? nay, gave notice
He was from thence diſcharg'd ? Sir, call to minde,
That I have been your Wife, in this Obedience,
Upward of twenty yeares, and have been bleſt
With many Children by you. If in the courſe
And proceſſe of this time you can report,
And prove it too, againſt mine Honour ought;
My bond to Wedlock, or my love and duty
Against your Sacred Perſon ; in Gods name
Turn me away : and let foul'ſt Contempt
Shut door upon me, and ſo give me up
To the ſharp'ſt kind of Juitſice. Pleaſe you, Sir,
The King your Father, was reputed for
A Prince moſt prudent; and an excellent
And unmatch'd Wit and Judgement. Ferdinand
My Father, King of Spain, was reckon'd one
The wifeſt Prince, that there had reign'd, by many
A year before. It is not to be queſtion'd,
That they had gather'd a wife Council to them.
Of every Realme, that did debate this buſineſſe,
Who dec'd our Marriage lawfull. Wherefore I humbly
Befeech you, Sir, to ſpare me, till I may
Be by my Friends in Spain advis'd ; whose Counſell
I will implore. If not, i'th' name of God
Your pleafure be fulfill'd.

Wol. You have here, Lady,

(And of your choyce) theſe Reverend Fathers, men
Of ſingular Integrity and Learning :
Yea, the elect oth' Land, who are affembled
To plead your Caufe. It ſhall be therefore bootleſſe,

That longer you define the Court, as well

For your own quiet, as to rectifie

What is unſetled in the King.

Camp. His Grace

Hath ſpoken well, and juſtly; Therefore, Madam,
It's fit this Royall ſeſſion doe proceed,
And that (without delay) their Arguments
Be now produc'd, and heard.

Queen. Lord Cardinall, to you I ſpeak.

Wol. Your pleafure, Madam.

Qu. Sir, I am about to weep ; but thinking that
We are a Queen (or long have dream'd ſo) certain
The Daughter of a King, my drops of teares,
I'll turn to sparkes of fire.

Wol. Be patient yet.

Qu. I will, when you are humble ; nay before,
Or God will puniſh me. I doe believe
(Induc'd by potent Circumftances) that
You are mine Enemy, and make my Challenge.
You ſhall not be my Judge. For it is you
Have blown this Coal, betwixt my Lord, and me ;
(Which Gods dew quench) therefore, I ſay again,
I utterly abhorre ; yea, from my Soule
Refuse you for my Judge, whom yet once more
I hold my moſt malicious Foe, and think not
At all a Friend to truth.

Wol. I doe proſeſſe

You ſpeak not like your ſelf: who ever yet
Have ſtood to Charity : and diſplay'd th' effects
Of diſpoſition, gentle, and of wifdome,
O're-topping women power. Madam, you doe me wrong,
I have no ſpleen againſt you, nor in juſtice
For you, or any : how farre I have proceeded,
Or how farre further (thall) is warranted
By a Commiffion from the Conſiſtory ;
Yea, the whole Conſiſtory of Rome. You charge me,
That I have blown this Coale : I doe deny it,
The King is prefent : If it be known to him,
That I gainſay my Deed, how may he wound,
And worthily, my Falſhood, yea, as much
As you have done my Truth. If he know
That I am free of your Report, he knowes
I am not of your wrong. Therefore in him
It lies to cure me, and the cure is to
Remove theſe thoughts from you. The which before
His Highneſſe ſhall ſpeak in, I doe beſeech
You (gracious Madam) to unthink your ſpeaking,
And to ſay no more.

Quee. My Lord, my Lord,
I am a ſimple woman, much too weak
T'opſoſe your cunning. Y'are meek, & humble-mouth'd,
You ſign your Place, and Calling, in full ſeeming,
With Meekneſſe and Humility : But your heart
Is cramm'd with Arroſance, ſpleen, and Pride.
You have by fortune, and his Highneſſe favours,
Gone flighty o're low ſteps, and now are mounted
Where Powers are your Retaines, and your words
(Domeſticks to you) ſerve your will ; as't pleafe
Your ſelf pronounce your Office. I muſt tell you,
You tender more your perſons Honour, then
Your high poffeſion Spirituall. That age
I doe reſufe you for my Judge, and here
Before you all, Apptale unto the Pope,
To bring my whole Caufe before his Holineſſe,
And to be judg'd by him.

She curiſes to the King, and offers to depart.

Camp.

553

Camp. The Queen is oblique,
Stubborn to Justice, apt to accufe it, and
Difdainfull to be tri'd by't; 'tis not well,
She's going away.
Kin. Call her again,
Cryer, Katherine Q. of England, come into the Court,
Gent. Uth. Madam, you are call'd back.
Que. What need you note it? pray you keep your way,
When you are call'd return: Now the Lord help,
They vex me paft my patience, pray you paffe on;
I will not tarry: no, nor ever more
Upon this buſineſſe my appearance make,
In any of their Courts.

Exit Queen, and her Attendants.

Kin. Go thy wayes Kate,
That man ith' world, who shall report he has
A better Wifey, let him in nought be trusted,
For speaking falſe in that; Thou art alone
(If thy rare qualities, ſweet gentlenefſe,
Thy meekneſſe Saint-like, Wifew-like, Government,
Oeying in commanding, and thy parts
Sovereign and Pious, could ſpeak thee out)
The Queen of carthely Queens : She's Noble born :
And like her tree Nobility, ſhe has
Carried her ſelf towards me.

Wol. Moſt gracious Sir,

In humbleſt manner I require your Highneſſe,
That it ſhall pleafe you to declare in hearing
Of all theſe cares (for where I am robb'd and bound,
There muſt I be unloos'd, although not there
At once, and fully fatiſſ'd) whether ever I
Did broach this buſineſſe to your Highneſſe, or
Laid any scruple in your way, which might
Induce you to the queſtion on't: or ever
Have to you, but with thanks to God for ſuch
A Royall Lady, (pake one, the leaſt word that might
Be to the prejudice of her preſent State,
Or touch of her good Perſon ?

Kin. My Lord Cardinal,

I do excufe you ; yea, upon mine Honour,
I free you from't: You are not to be taught
That you have many Enemies, that know not
Why they are ſo, but like the Village Curres,
Bark when their ſeells do. By ſome of theſe
The Queen is put in anger ; y'are excus'd :
But will you be more juſtifi'd ? You ever
Have with'd the ſleeping of this buſineſſ, never defi'd
It to be ſtirr'd ; but oft have hindred, or oft
The paffages made toward it; on my Honour,
I ppeak, my good Lord Cardinall to this point ;
And thus farre clear him.

Now, what mov'd me too't,

I will be bold with time and your attention : (too't:
Then marke th' inducement. Thus it came ; give heed
My Conſcience firſt receiv'd a tenderneſſe,
Scruple, and prick, on certain Speeches utter'd
By th' Bifhop of Bayon, then French Embaſſador,
Who had been hither ſent on the debating
And Marriage 'twixt the Duke of Orleance, and
Our Daughter Mary : Ith' Progreſſe of this buſineſſ,
Ere a determinate refolution, he

(I mean the Bifhop) did require a reſpite,
Wherein he might the King his Lord adverſe,
Whether our Daughter were legitimate,
Respecting this our Marriage with the Dowager,
Sometimes our Brothers Wifew. This reſpite ſhook

The boſome of my Conſcience, enter'd me ;
Yea with a ſplitting power, and made to tremble
The region of my Breaſt, which fore'd ſuch way,
That many maz'd confiderings, did throng
And preſt in with this Caution. Firſt, I thought
I ſtood not in the ſmile of Heaven, who had
Commanded Nature, that my Ladies womb
If it conceiv'd a Male-child by me, I should
Doe no more Offices of life to't, then
The Grave does to th' dead : For her Male Iſſue,
Or dyed where they were made, or ſhortly after
This world had air'd them. Hence I took a thought,
This was a Judgement on me, that my Kingdome
(Well worthy the beſt Heit oth' world) ſhould not
Be glad in't by me. Then follows, that
I weig'd the danger that my Realme ſtood in.
By this my Iſſues ſaile, and that gave tome
Many a groaning throw: thus hulling in
The wilde ſea of my Conſcience, I did ſteer
Towards this remedy, whereupon we are
Now preſent here together : that's to ſay,
I meant to rectifie my Conſcience, which
I then did feel full ſick, and yet not well,
By all the Reverend Fathors of the Land,
And Doſtors Learn'd. Firſt I began in private,
With you, my Lord of Lincoln ; you remember
How under my oppreſſion I did reek
When I firſt mov'd you.

B. Lin. Very well, my Liege.

Kin. I have ſpoke long, be pleas'd your ſelf to ſay
How farre you fatiſſ'd me.

Lin. So pleafe your Highneſſe,
The queſtion did at firſt ſo ſtagger me,
Bearing a ſtate of mighty moment in't,
And ſequeunce of dread, that I committed
The daring ſount Counſell which I had to doubt,
And did intreat your Highneſſe in this courſe,
Which you are running here.

Kin. I then mov'd you,
My Lord of Canterbury, and got your leave
To make this preſent Summons unſolicited.
I left no reverend perſon in this Court,
But by particular conſent proceeded
Under your Hands and Scales : therefore go on,
For no diflike ith' world againſt the perſon
Of our good Queen; but the ſharp thorny points
Of my alledged reaſons drives this forward :
Prove but our Marriage lawfull, by my Life
And Kingly Dignity, we are contented
To wear her mortall State to come, with her,
(Katherine our Queen) before the primeſt Creature
That's Parragon'd oth' World.

Camp. So pleafe your Highneſſe,
The Queen being abſent, 'tis a needfull fitneſſe,
That we adjourn this Court to a further day ;
Mean while muſt be an earneſt motion
Made to the Queen, to call back her appeale
She intends unto his Holineſſe.

Kin. I may perceive
Theſe Cardinals trifle with me : I abhorre
This dilatory ſloth, and tricks of Rome.
My Learn'd and welbeloved Servant Cranmer,
Prethee return, with thy approach: I know,
My comfort comes along : break up the Court ;
I ſay, fet on.

Exeunt, in manner as they enter'd

Actus

555

I have more Charity. But fay I warn'd ye;
Take heed, for heavens fake take heed, leaft at once
The burthen of my forrows fall upon ye.

Car. Madam, this is a meer distraction,
You turn the good we offer into envy.

Quee. Ye turn me into nothing. Woe upon ye,
And all such falfe professors. Would you have me
(If you have any Justice, any Pitty,
If ye be any thing but Churchmens habit)
Put my sick caufe into his hands that hates me ?
Alafs, ha's banifh me his bed already,
His Love, too long ago. I am old, my Lords,
And all the fellowship I hold now with him
Is onely by obedience. What can happen
To me, above this wretchedneſſe? All your Studies
Make me a Curſe, like this :

Camp. Your fears are worſe.

Qu. Have I liv'd thus long (let me ſpeak my ſelf,
Since Virtue finds no friends) a Wife, a true one ?
A Woman (I dare ſay without Vain-glory)

Never yet branded with ſutfiſion ?

Have I, with allmy full Aſſections

Still met the King ? Lov'd him next Heav'n? Obey'd him?

Bin (out of fondneſſe) ſuperſtitious to him ?

Almoſt forgot my Prayers to content him ?

And am I thus rewarded ? 'tis not well, Lords.

Bring me a conſtant woman to her Husband,

One that ne're dream'd a Joy, beyond his pleafure ;

And to that Woman (when he has done moſt)

Yet will I adde an honour ; a great Patience.

Car. Madam, you wander from the good

Wayme at.

Quee. My Lord,

I dare not make my ſelf so guilty,

To give up willingly that Noble Title

Your Matter wed me to: nothing but death

Shall'e we divorce my Dignities.

Card. Pray hear me.

Qu. Would I had never trod this English Earth,

O felt the Flatteries that grow upon it :

Ye have Angels Faces, but Heaven knows your hearts,
What ſhall become of me now, wretched Lady ?

I am the moſt unhappy Woman living.

Alafs (poor Wenches) where are now your Fortunes ?

Shipwrack'd upon a Kingdome, where no Pitty,

No Friends, no Hope, no Kindred weep for me ?

Almoſt no Grave allow'd me ? Like the Lilly

That once was Miftris of the Field, and flourish'd,

I'll hang my head, and perſil.

Car. If your Grace

Could but be brought to know our ends are honest,

You'd feel more comfort. Why (should we (good Lady)

Upon what caufe wrong you ? Alafs, our Places,

The way of our Proſection is againſt it;

We are to cure ſuch forrows, not to fow 'em.

For goodneſs ſake, confider what you doe,

How you may hurt your ſelf : I, utterly

Grow from the Kings Acquaintance, by this Carriage,

The hearts of Princes kiffe Obedience,

Somuch they love it. But to ſtubborn Spirits,

They ſwell and grow as terrible asFORMS.

I know you have a gentle, noble temper,

A Soule as even as a Calme; Pray think us,

Thofe we profeſſe, Peace-makers, Friends, and Servants.

Camp. Madam, you'll find it ſo :

You wrong your Virtues

With their weak Womens ſeares. A Noble Spirit

As yours was, put into you, ever caſts

Such doubts as falſe Coyn from it. The King loves you,

Beware you loofe it not : For us (if you pleafe

To truſt us in your buſieſſe) we are ready

To uſe our utmoſt Studies in your ſervic'e.

Qu. Doe what you will, my Lords:

And pray forgive me;

If I have us'd my ſelf unmannerly,

You know I am a Woman lacking wit

To make a ſeemly anſwer to ſuch perſons,

Pray do my ſervic'e to his Majefty,

He has my heart yet, and ſhall have my Prayers

While I ſhall have my life. Come reverend Fathers,

Beſtow your Counſells on me. She now begs

That little thought when the ſet footing here,

She ſhould have bought her Dignities ſo dear.

Exeunt.

## Scena Secunda.

Enter the Duke of Norfolk, Duke of Suffolk, Lord Survey, and Lord Chamberlain.

Norf. If you will now unite in your Complaints,

And force them with a Conſtancy, the Cardinall

Cannot ſtand under them. If you omit

The offer of this time, I cannot promife,

But that you ſhall ſuſtain moe new diſgraces,

With these you bear already.

Sur. I am joyfull

To meet the leaſt occafion, that may give me

Remembrance of my Father-in-Law the Duke,

To be reveng'd on him,

Suf. Which of the Peeres?

Have uncontemn'd gone by him, or at leaſt

Strangely neglected ? When did he regard

The ſtamp of Noblenſe in any perſon

Out of himſelf?

Cham. My Lords, you ſpeak your pleatures;

What he deferves of you and me, I know:

What we can do to him (though now the time

Gives way to us) I much fear, If you cannot

Barre his acceſſe to th' King, never attemp

Any thing on him : for he hath a witchcraft

Over the King in's Tongue.

Nor. O fear him not,

His ſpelf in that is out : the King hath found

Matter againſt him, that for ever marres

The Hony of his Language. No, he's fetled

(Not to come off) in his diſpleasure.

Sur. Sir,

I should be glad to hear ſuch Newes as this
Once every houre.

Nor. Believe it, this is true.

In the Divorce, his contrary proceedings

Are all unfolded: wherein he appears,

As I would with mine Enemy.

Sur. How came

His practiſes to light ?

Suf. Moſt ſtrangely.

Sur. O how ? how ?

Suf. The Cardinals Letters to the Pope miſcarried,

And

And come to th' eye oth' King, wherein was read
How that the Cardinall did entreat his Holinesse
To fly the Judgement oth' Divorce; for if
It did take place, I doe (quoth he) perceive
My King is tangled in affection, to
A Creature of the Queens, Lady Anne Bullen.

*Sur.* Ha's the King this?
*Suf.* Beleeve it.
*Sur.* Will this work?
*Cham.* The King in this perceives him, how he cafts

And hedges his own way. But in this point,
All his tricks founder, and he brings his Physick
After his patients death; the King already
Hath married the fair Lady.

*Sur.* Would he had,
*Suf.* May you be happy in your wifh, my Lord,
For I professe you have it.

*Sur.* Now all my joy
Trace the Conjunction.

*Suf.* My Amen too't.

*Nor.* All mens.

*Suf.* There's order given for her Coronation:
Marry this is yet but young, and may be left
To fome eares unrecounted. But, my Lords,
She is a gallant Creature, and compleat
In minde and feature, I perfwade me, from her
Will fall fome bleffing to this Land, which ſhall
In it be memoriz'd.

*Sur.* But will the King

Digeſt this Letter of the Cardinals ?

The Lord forbid.

*Nor.* Marry Amen.

*Suf.* No, no :

There be moe Wafps that buz about his Noſe,
Will make this flying the sooner. Cardinall *Campeius*,
Is tofln away to *Rome*, hath tane no leave,
Ha's left the caufe to th' King unhandled, and
Is poſted as the Agent of our Cardinall,
To fecond all his plot. I doe affure you,
The King cri'd Ha, at this.

*Cham.* Now God incenſe him.

And let him cry Ha, louder.

*Norf.* But, my Lord,

When returns *Cranmer* ?

*Suf.* He is return'd in his opinions, which
Have satisfi'd the King for his Divorce,
Together with all famous Colledges
Almoſt in Chriſtendome: ſhortly (I believe)
His fecond Marriage ſhall be publifhed, and
Her Coronation. *Katherine* no more
Shall be call'd *Queen*, but *Princeſſe Dowager*,
A Widow to Prince *Arthur*.

*Nor.* This fame *Cranmer's*

A worthy Fellow, and hath tane much pain
In the Kings buſineſſe.

*Suf.* He has, and we ſhall fee him

For it, an Arch-Biſhop.

*Nor.* So I hear.

*Suf.* 'Tis ſo.

*Enter Wolfey and Cromwell.*

The Cardinall.

*Nor.* Obſerve, obſerve, he's moody.

*Car.* The Packet, *Cromwell*,

Gav't you the King ?

*Crom.* To his own hand, in's Bed-chamber.

*Card.* Look'd he oth' in-fide of the Paper ?

*Crom.* Presently

He did unſeale them, and the first he view'd,
He did it with a ſerious minde: a heed
Was in his countenance. You he bad
Attend him here this Morning.

*Card.* Is he ready to come abroad ?

*Crom.* I think by this he is,

*Card.* Leave me a while.

*Exit Cromwell.*

It ſhall be to the Dutcheſſe of *Alanfon*,

The *French* Kings Sifter; He ſhall marry her.

*Anne Bullen* ? No: I'le no *Anne Bullens* for him,
There's more in't then fair Vifage. *Bullen* ?

No, we'll no *Bullens*: Speedily I wifh

To hear from *Rome*. The Marchion ſeſſe of *Penbrook*?

*Nor.* He's diſcontented.

*Suf.* May he heares the King

Does whet his anger to him.

*Sur.* Sharp enough,

Lord for thy Jüſtice.

*Car.* The late Queens Gentlewoman ?

A Knights Daughter

To be her Miftris Miftris ? the Queens Queen ?
This Candle burns not cleer, 'tis I muſt inſuffe it,
Then out it goes. What though I know her virtuous
And well-deferving ? yet I know her for
A ſpleeny *Lutheran*, and not wholſome to
Our caufe, that ſhe ſhould lie iſh' boſome of
Our hard rul'd King. Again, there is ſprung up
An Heretick, an Arch-one; *Cranmer*, one
Hath crawl'd into the favour of the King,
And is his Oracle.

*Nor.* He is vex'd at ſomething.

*Enter King reading of a Schedule.*

*Sur.* I would 'twere ſomething that would fret the ſtring
The After cord on's heart.

*Suf.* The King, the King.

*King.* What piles of Wealth hath he accumulated
To his own portion ? and what expence by th' hour
Seems to flow from him ? how, ith' name of Thrift
Does he rake this together ? Now, my Lords,
Saw you the Cardinall?

*Nor.* My Lord, we have

Stood here obſerving him. Some ſtrange Commotion
Is in his brain: he bites his lip and flarts,
Stops on a ſudden, looks upon the ground,
Then layes his finger on his Temple: ſtraight
Springs out into ſaſt gate, then ſtops again,
Strikes his breſt hard, and anon, he caſts
His eye againſt the Moon: in moſt ſtrange Poſures
We have been ſeen him ſet himſelf.

*King.* It may well be,
There is a mutiny in's minde. This morning,
Papers of State he ſent me, to perſufe
As I requir'd : and wot you what I found
There (on my Conſcience put unwittingly)
Forfooth an Inventory, thus importing
The ſeverall parcels of his Plate, his Treafure,
Rich Stuſſes and Ornaments of Houshold, which
I finde at ſuch proud Rate, that it out-peſkes
Poſſeffion of a Subject.

*Nor.* It's heaſens will,
Some Spirit put this Paper in the Packet,
To bleſſe your eye withal.

*King.* If we did think

His

557

His Contemplations were above the earth,
And fixt on spiritual object, he should till
Dwell in his Mufings, but I am afraid
His Thinkings are below the Moon, nor worth
His ferious confidering.

King takes his Seat, whispeſs Lovell, who goes
to the Cardinal.

Car. Heaven forgive me,
Ever God bleſs my Highneſts.

King. Good my Lord,

You are full of Heavely ſtuff, and bear the Inventory,
Of your beſt Grace, in your minde; the which,
You were now running o're: you have ſcarce time
To ſeel from Spiritual leifure, a brief ſpan

To keep your earthly Audit, ſure in that
I deem you an ill Husband, and am glad
To have you therein my Companion.

Car. Sir,

For Holy Offices I have a time; a time

To think upon the part of buſineſs, which

I bear i'th' State: and Nature does require

Her times of prefervation, which perforce

her frail ſon, among it my Brethren mortal,
Muſt give my tendance to.

King. You have faſd well,

Car. And ever may your Highneſts yoke together,
(As I will lend you cauſe) my doing well,
With my well ſaying,

King. 'Tis well ſaid aſen,

And 'tis a kind of good deed to ſay well,
And yet words are no deeds. My Father lov'd you,

He faſd he did, and with this deed did Crown

His ſword upon you. Since I had my Office,

I have kept you next my Heart, have not alone
Employ'd you where high Profiſts might come home,

But par'd my prefent Havings, to beſtow

My Bounties upon you,

Car. What ſhould this mean?

Sur. The Lord increaſe this buſineſs.

King. Have I not made you

The prime man of the State ? I pray you tell me,

If what I now pronounce, you have found true :

And if you may conſeſs it, ſay withall

If you are to bound to us, or no. What ſay you ?

Car. My Soveraign, I conſeſs your Royal graces

Shew'd on me daily, have been more then could

My ſtudied purpofes require, which went

Beyond all man's endeavours. My endeavours,

Have ever come too ſhort of my Defices,

Yet ſkill with my Abilities: Mine own ends,

Have been ſo, that evermore they pointed

To th'good of your moſt Sacred Perſon, and

The profit of the State. For your great Graces

Heaſd upon me (poor Underſerver) I

Can nothing render but Allegiant thanks,

My Prayers to heaven for you; my Loyalty

Which ever has, and ever ſhall be growing,

Till death (that Winter) kill it.

King. Fairly anſwer'd :

A Loyal, and obedient Subjeſt is

Therein illustrated, the Honour of it

Does pay the Act of it, as i'th' contrary

The ſoulneſs is the puniſhment. I prefume,

That as my hand has open'd Bounty to you,

My heart drop'd Love, my pow'r rain'd Honour, more

On you, then any: So your Hand, and Heart,

Your Brain, and every Function of your power,
Should, notwithstanding that your board of duty,
As were in Love's particular, be more
To me your Friend, then any.

Car. I do profefs,

That for your Highneſs good, I ever labour'd

More then mine own: that am, have, and will be

(Though all the world should crack their duty to you,

And throw it from their Soul; though perils did

Abound, as thick as thought could make 'em, and

Appear in forms more horrid, yet my Duty,

As doth a Rock againſt the chiding Floud,

Should the approach of this wild River break

And ſtand unſhaken, yours.

King. 'Tis Nobly ſpoken ;

Take notice Lords, he has a Loyal breaſt,

For you have ſeen him open't. Read o're this,

And after this, and then to Breakfast with

What appetite you have,

Exit King, frowning upon the Cardinnl, the Nobles
throng after him whispering, and smiling.

Car. What ſhould this mean?

What ſudden Anger's this ? How have I reaſ'd it ?

He parted Frowning from me, as if Ruine

Leap'd from his Eyes. So looks the chafed Lyon

Upon the daring Huntſman that has gall'd him :

Then makes him nothing. I muſt read this paper :

I fear the Story of his Anger. 'Tis ſo :

This paper has undone me: 'Tis th' Account

Of all that world of Wealth I have drawn together

For mine own ends, (Indeed to gain the Popedome

And fee my Friends in Rame.) O Negligence !

Fit for a Fool to fall by: What croſs Devil

Made me put this main Secret in the Packet

I ſent the King ? Is there no way to cure this?

No new device to beat this from his Brains?

I know 'twill ſtir him ſtrongly; yet I know

A way, if it take right, in ſpight of Fortune

Will bring me off again. What's this? To th' Pope ?

The Letter (as I live) with all the Buſineſs

I wri to's Holineſs. Nay then, farewell :

I have touch'd the highelt point of all my Greatneſs,

And from that full Meridian of my Glory,

I haſte now to my Setting, I ſhall fall

Like a bright Exhalation in the Evening,

And no man fee me more.

Enter to Woolſey, the Dukes of Norfolk and Suffolk, the
Earl of Surrey, and the Lord Chamberlain.

Nor. Hear the King's pleasure Cardinal,

Who commands you

To render up the Great Seal preſently

Into our hands, and to Confine your ſelf

To After-houſe, my Lord of Winchesteſ's,

'Till you hear further from his Highneſs.

Car. Stay :

Where's your Commiffion? Lords, words cannot carry
Authority to mighty.

Suff. Who dare croſs 'em,

Bearing the King's will from his mouth expreſſely ?

Car. 'Till I ſinde more then will, or words to do it,
(I mean your Matice) know, Oſticious Lords,
I dare, and muſt deny it. Now I feel
Of what course Metal ye are molded, Envy :
How eagerly ye follow my Difgraces

A a a

As

558

As if it fed ye, and how fleek and wanton
Ye appear in every thing may bring my ruine?
Follow your envious courtes, men of Malice;
You have a Christian warrant for 'em, and no doubt
In time will find their fit Rewards. That Seal
You ask with such a Violence, the King
(Mine, and your Mafter) with his own hand, gave me:
Bad me enjoy it, with the Place, and Honours
During my life; and to confirm his Goodneſs,
T' de it by Letters Patents. Now, who'll take it?

Sur. The King that gave it.

Car. It muſt be himſelf then.

Sur. Thou art a proud Traytor, Priekt.

Car. Proud Lord, thou lyeſt:

Within theſe fourty hours, Surrey durſt better
Have burnt that Tongue, then ſaid fo.
Sur. Thy Ambition
(Thou Scarlet ſinner) robb'd this bewailing Land
Of Noble Buckingham, my Father-in-Law,
The heads of all thy Brother Cardinals,
(With thee, and all thy beſt parts bound together)
Weigh'd not a hair of his. Plague of your policy,
You ſent me Deputy for Ireland,
Far from his ſuccour ; from the King, from all
That might have mercy on the fault, thou gav'd him :
Whil't your great Goodneſs, out of holy pitie,
Abſolv'd him with an Axe.

Wol. This, and all eſſe

This talking Lord can lay upon my credit,
I anſwer, is moſt falſe. The Duke by Law
Found his deſerts. How innocent I was
From any private malice in his end,
His Noble Jury, and foul Caufe can witenſs.
If I lov'd many words, Lord, I should tell you,
You have as little Honesty, as Honour,
That in the way of Loyalty, and Truth,
Toward the King, my ever Royal Maſter,
Dare mate a founder man then Surrey can be,
And all that love his follies.

Sur. By my Soul,

Your long Coat (Priekt) proteets you,
Thou ſhould'ſt feel
My Sword i'th' life bloud of thee eſſe. My Lords,
Can ye endure to hear this Arroſance ?
And from this Fellow ? If we live thus tamely,
To be thus Jaded by a piece of Scarlet,
Farewell Nobility : let his Grace go forward,
And dare us with his Cap, like Larks.

Car. All Goodneſs

Is poſſon to thy Stomack.

Sur. Yes, that Goodneſs

Of gleaning all the Land's wealth into one,
Into your own hands (Card'nal) by Extortion :
The goodneſs of your intercepted Packets
You writ to th' Pope, againſt the King: your goodneſs
Since you provoke me, ſhall be moſt notorious.
My Lord of Norfolk, as you are truly Noble,
As you reſpect the common good, the State
Of our diſpis'd Nobility, our Iſlués,
(Who if he live, will ſcarce be Gentlemen)
Produce the grand ſumme of his finnes, the Articles
Collected from his life. I'le ſtartle you
Worſe then the Sacring Bell, when the brown Wench
Lay killing in your armes, Lord Cardinal.

Car. How much me thinks, I could desſpife this man,
But that I am bound in Charity againſt it.

Nor. Thoſe Articles, my Lord, are in the Kings hand:
But thus much, they are foul ones.

Wol. So much fairer

And ſpotleſs, ſhall mine Innocence arise,
When the King knows my Truth.

Sur. This cannot fave you :

I thank my Memory, I yet remember
Some of theſe Articles, and out they ſhall,
Now, if you can bluſh, and cry guilty Cardinal,
You'll ſhew a little Honesty.

Wol. Speak on Sir,

I dare your worſt Objections: If I bluſh,
It is to ſee a Nobleman want manners.

Sur. I had rather want thofe, then my head ;
Have at you.

First, that without the King's affent or knowledge,
You wrought to be a Legate, by which power
You maim'd the Jurifdiction of all Bifhops.

Nor. Then, that in all you writ to Rome, or eſſe
To Foreign Princes, Ego & Rex meus,
Was ſtill inſcrib'd: in which you brought the King
To be your Servant.

Suff. Then, that without the knowledge
Either of King or Councel, when you went
Ambaſſador to the Emperour, you made bold
To carry into Flanders, the Great Seal.

Sur. Item, You ſent a large Commiffion
To Gregory de Caffado, to conclude
Without the King's will, or the States allowance,
A League between his Highneſs, and Ferrara.

Suff. That out of more Ambition, you have caus'd
Your holy-Hat to be ſtamp't on the King's Coin.

Sur. Then, that you have ſent innumerable ſubſtance,
(By what means got, I leave to your own Conſcience)
To furniſh Rome, and to prepare the wayes
You have for Dignities, to the mere undoing
Of all the Kingdome. Many more there are,
Which ſince they are of you, and odious,
I will not taint my mouth with.

Cham. O my Lord,

Preſs not a falling man too far: 'tis Virtue :
His faults lye open to the Lawes, let them
(Not you) correct him. My heart weeps to ſee him
So little, of his great Self.

Sur. I forgive him.

Suff. Lord Cardinal, the King's further pleaſure is,
Because all thofe things you have done of late
By your power Legantive within this Kingdome,
Fall into th'compaſs of a Piemunire;
That therefore ſuch a Writ be ſued againſt you,
To forfeit all your Goods, Lands, Tenements,
Caſſles, and whatsoever, and to be
Out of the King's protection. This is my Charge.

Nor. And fo we'll leave you to your Meditations
How to live better. For your ſubſturb anſwer
About the giving back the Great Seal to us,
The King ſhall know it, and (no doubt) ſhall thank you.
So fare you well, my little good Lord Cardinal.

Exeunt all but Wolfe.

Wol. So farewell, to the little good you bear me.
Farewell ? A long farewell to all my Greatneſs.
This is the ſtate of Man ; to day he puts forth
The tender Leaves of Hopes, to morrow Bloſſoms,
And beares his bluſhing Honours thick upon him :
The third day, comes a Proſt; a killing Proſt,
And when he thinks, good caſe man, full ſurely

His

559

His Greatneſts is a ripening, nips his Root,
And then he falls as I do. I have ventur'd
Like little wanton Boyes that ſwim on bladders :
This many Summers in a Sea of Glory,
But far beyond my depth: my high-blown Pride
At length broke under me, and now ha's left me
Weary, and old with ſervie, to the mercy
Of a rude ſtream, that muſt for ever hide me.
Vain pomp, and glory of the World, I hate ye,
I feel my heart new open'd. Oh how wretched
Is that poor man, that hangs on Princes ſavours ?
There is betwixt that ſmile we would afpire to,
That sweet Aspect of Princes, and their ruine,
More pangs, and fears then warres, or women have;
And when he falls, he falls like Lucifer,
Never to hope again.

*Enter Cromwell, standing amazed.*

Why how now Cromwell?

Crom. I have no power to ſpeak Sir.

Car. What, amaz'd

At my mſtunes? Can the Spirit wonder
A great man ſhould decline. Nay, and you weep
I am ſal'n indeed.

Crom. How does your Grace ?

Card. Why well:

Never ſo truly happy, my good Cromwell,
I know my ſelf now, and I feel within me,
A peace above all earthly Dignities,
A ſtill, and quiet Conſience. The King has cur'd me.
Thumblay thank his Grace: and from theſe ſhoulders
This ruin'd Pillet, out of Pitie, taken
A load, would ſink a Navy, (too much Honour.)
O'tis a burden Cromwell, 'tis a burden
Too heavy for a man, that hopes for Heaven.

Crom. I am glad your Grace,

Ha'smade that right uſe of it.

Card. I hope I have:

I am able now (me thinks)

(Out of a fortitude of Soul, I feel)

To endure more Miferies, and greater ſar
Then my Weak-hearted Enemies, dare offer.

What Newes abroad ?

Crom. The heaviſt, and the worſt,

Is your diſpleasure with the King.

Card. God bleſſes him.

Crom. The next is, that Sir Thomas Moor is choſen
Lord Chancellor, in your place.

Card. That's somewhat ſodain.

But he's a Learned man. May he continue

Long in his Highneſts favour, and do Juitſice

For truth's-fake, and his Conſience; that his bones,

When he has run his course, and fleeps in Bleſſings,

May have a tombe of Orphan's teares wept on him.

What more ?

Crom. That Cranmer is return'd with welcome ;

Infall'd Lord Arch-biſhop of Canterbury.

Card. That's Newes indeed.

Crom. Laſt, that the Lady Anne,

Whom the King hath in ſecrecy long married,
This day was view'd in open, as his Queen,

Going to Chappel: and the voice is now
Only about her Coronation.

Card. There was the weight that pull'd me down.

O Cromwell,

The King h'as gone beyond me: All my Glories

In that one woman, I have loft for ever.

No Sun, ſhall ever uſher forth mine Honours,
Or gild again the Noble Troops that weighed
Upon my ſmiles. Go get thee from me Cromwell,
I am a poor ſal'n man, unworthy now
To be thy Lord, and Maſter. Seek the King
(That Sun, I pray may never ſet) I have told him,
What, and how true thou art; he will advance thee :
Some little memory of me, will ſtir him
(I know his Noble Nature) not to let
Thy hopefull ſervice perſih too. Good Cromwell,
Neglect him not; make uſe now, and provide
For thine own future ſafetey.

Crom. O my Lord,

Muſt I then leave you ? Muſt I needs ſorgeſe

So good, ſo Noble, and ſo true a Maſter ?

Bear witneſſs, all that have not hearts of Iron,

With what a ſorrow Cromwel leaves his Lord.

The King ſhall have my ſervic'e; but my prayers
For ever and for ever ſhall be yours.

Card. Cromwell, I did not think to ſhed a tear
In all my miſeries: But thou haſt ſore'd me
(Out of thy honest truth) to play the Woman.

Let's dry our eyes: And thus far hear me Cromwell,

And when I am ſorgotten, as I ſhall be,

And ſleep in dull cold Marble, where no mention

Of me, more muſt be heard of: Say I taught thee ;

Say W Weight, that once trod the wayes of Glory,

And founded all the Depths and Shoals of Honour,

Found theee a way (out of his wrack) to rife in:

A ſure, and ſafe one, though thy Maſter miſt it.

Mark but my Fall, and that that Ruin'd me :

Cromwell, I charge thee, ſling away Ambition,

By that ſin ſell the Angels: how can man then

(The Image of his Maſer) hope to win by it ?

Love thy ſelf laſt, cheriſh thathe hearts that hate thee :

Corruption win not more then Honesty,

Still in thy right hand, carry gentle Peace

To ſilence envious tongues. Be juſt, and fear not :

Let all the ends thou aim'ſt at, be thy Countries,

Thy God's, and truth s: then if thou fall'ſt (O Cromwell)

Thou fall'ſt a bleſſed Martyr.

Serve the King: and prethee lead me in:

There take an Inventory of all I have,

To the laſt penny, 'tis the King's. My Robe,

And my Integrity to Heaven, is all,

I dare now call mine own. O Cromwell, Cromwell

Had I but ſerv'd my God, with half the Zeal

I ſerv'd my King: he would not in mine Age

Have left me naked to mine Enemies.

Crom. Good Sir, have patience,

Card. So I have. Farewell.

The Hopes of Court, my Hopes in Heaven do dwell.

Exeunt.

Altus Quartus. Scena Prima...

*Enter two Gentlemen, meeting one another.*

1. Y'are well met once again.

2. So are you.

1. You come to take your stand here, and behold
The Lady Anne paſs from her Coronation.

A a a 2

2. 'Tis

2. 'Tis all my bufineſs. At our laſt encounter,
The Duke of *Buckingham* came from his Tryal.

1. 'Tis very true. But that time offer'd forrow,
This general joy.

2. 'Tis well: the Citizens
I am ſtue have ſhewn at full their Royal minds,
As let'em have their ſights, they are ever forward
In Celebration of this day with Shewes,
Pageants, and Sights of Honour.

1. Never greater,
Nor I'll affure you better taken Sir.

2. May I be bold to ask what that contains,
That Paper in your hands ?

1. Yes, 'tis the Lift
Of thate that claim their Offices this day,
By cufome of the Coronation,
The Duke of *Suffolk* is the first, and claims
To be high Steward; next the Duke of *Norfolk*,
He to be Earl Maiſhal: you may read the reſt.

1. I thank you Sir: Had I not known thate cufomes,
I ſhould have beene bebolding to your Paper:
But I beſech you, what's become of *Katherin*
The Princes Dowager ? How goes her buſineſs ?

1. That I can tell you too: the Archbifhop
Of *Canterbury*, accompanied with other
Learned, and Reverend Fathors of this Order,
Held a late Court at *Dunſtate*; ſix miles off
From *Amphill*, where the Princes lay, to which
She was often cited by them, but appear'd not:
And to be ſhort, for not Appearance, and
The King's late Scruple, by the main aſſent
Of all theſe Learned men, ſhe was divorc'd;
And the late Marriage made of none effect:
Since which, ſhe was remov'd to *Kimbolton*,
Where ſhe remains now ſick.

2. Alas good Lady.
The trumpets found: ſtand cloſe,
The Queen is coming.

Ho-boyes.

The Order of the Coronation.

1. A lively Flourish of Trumpets.

2. Thentwo Judges.

3. Lord Chancellor, with Purſe and Mace before him.

4. Quirinſers ſinging. Mufick.

5. Mayor of London, bearing the Mace. Then Garter,
in his Coat of Armes, and on his head he wore a Gilt
Copper Crown.

6. Maiqueſs of Dorſet, bearing a Scepter of Gold, on his
head, a Demi-Coronal of Gold. With him, the Earl of
Surrey, bearing the Rod of Silver with the Dove,
Crowned with an Earle's Coronet. Collars of Effes.

7. Duke of Suffolk, in his Robe of Eſtate, his Coronet on
his head, bearing a long white Wand, as High Steward.
With him, the Duke of Norfolk, with the Rod of Mar-
ſhaliſp, a Coronet on his head. Collars of Effes.

8. A Canopy, borne by four of the Cinque-Ports, under
it the Queen in her Robe, in her hair, richly adornd
with Pearl, Crowned. On each ſide her the Bifhops of
London and Winchefter.

9. The old Duches of Norfolk, in a Coronal of Gold,
wrought with Flowers, bearing the Queen's Train.

10. Certain Ladies or Counteſſes, with plain Circlets of
Gold, without Flowers.

Excunt, first paſſing over the Stage in Order and State,
and then, A great Flourish of Trumpets.

2. A Royal Train believe me: theſe I know:
Who's that bears the Scepter ?

1. Maiqueſs Dorſet,
And that the Earl of *Surrey*, with the Rod,

2. A bold brave Gentleman. That ſhould be
The Duke of *Suffolk*.

1. 'Tis the fame: high Steward.

2. And that my Lord of *Norfolk*?

1. Yes.
2. Heaven bleſſes thee,

Thou haſt the ſweeteſt face I ever look'd on.
Sir, as I have a Soul, ſhe is an Angel;
Our King has all the *Indies* in his Armes,
And more, &c richer, when he ſtrains that Lady,
I cannot blame his Conſcience,

1. They that bear
The Cloath of Honor over her, are four Barons
Of the Cinque-Ports.

2. Thoſe men are happy,
And ſo are all, are near her,
I take it, ſhe that carries up the Train,
Is that old Noble Lady, Duchefs of *Norfolk*.

1. It is, and all the reſt are Counteſſes.
2. Their Coronets ſay ſo. Theſe are Starres indeed,
And ſometimes falling ones.

1. No more of that
Enter a third Gentleman.
1. God fave you Sir. Where have you bin broiling ?
3. Among the crou'd i' th' Abbey, where a finger
Could not be wedg'd in more: I am ſtifted
With the remer rankneſs of their joy.
2. Youfaw the Ceremony ?
3. I did.
1. How was it ?
3. Well worth the ſeeing.
2. Good Sir, I ſpeak it to us.
3. As well as I am able. The rich ſtream
Of Lords, and Ladies, having brought the Queen
To a prepar'd place in the Quire, ſell off.

A diſtance from her; while her Grace ſate down
To reſt a while, ſome half an hour, or ſo,
In a rich Chair of State, oppofing freely
The Beauty of her Perfon to the People.
Believe me Sir, ſhe is the goodlieſt Woman
That ever lay by man: which when the people
Had the full view of, ſuch a Noife aroſe,
As the ſhrowds make at Sea, in a ſtiff tempeſt,
As loud, and to as many tunes. Hats, Cloaks,
Doublets, I think) ſlew up, and had their Faces
Bin ſoſe, this day they had been loft. Such joy
I never ſaw before. Great-belly'd Women,
That had not half a week to go, like Rammes
In the old time of War, ſhould ſhake the preaſe
And make'em reel before'em. No man living
Could ſay this is my wife there, all were woven
So ſtrangly in one piece.

2. But what follow'd ?
3. At length, her Grace roſe, and with modet paces
Came to the Altar, where ſhe kneeſ'd, and Saint-like
Caf't her fair eyes to Heaven, and pray'd devoutly.
Then roſe again, and bow'd her to the people:
When by the Arch-bishop of *Canterbury*,
She had all the Royal making of a *Queen*;
As holy Oyl, Edward Confefſor's Crown,
The Rod, and Bird of Peace, and all ſuch Emblems
Laid Nobly on her: which perform'd, the Quire

With

The Life of Henry the Eighth.

561

With all the choicest Mufick of the Kingdome,
Together fung *Te Deun*, So she parted,
And with the fame full State pae'd back again
To *York*-Place, where the Feast is held.

1. Sir.

You must no more call it *Yor-k-place*, that's paft:
For since the Cardinal fell, that title's loft,
'Tis now the King's, and call'd *Whitehall*.

3. I know it:

But 'tis so lately alter'd, that the old name
Is still about me.

2. What two Reverend Bishops

Were thofe that went on each tide of the Queen?

3. *Stokeley and Gardiner*, the one of *Winchester*,
Newly prefer'd from the King's Secretary:
The other *London*.

2. He of *Winchester*

[I]sheld no great good lover of the Archbishop,
The virtuous Cranmer.

3. All the Land knows that:

How ever, yet there is no great breach, when it comes
*Cranmer* will find a Friend will not shrink from him.

2. Who may be that, I pray you.

3. *Thomas Cromwell*,

A man in much efteen with th'King, and truly
A worthy Friend. The King has made him

After o'th' Jewel House,

And one already of the Privy Council.

2. He will defer me more.

3. Yes without all doubt.

Come Gentlemen, ye shall go my way,

Which is to th'Court, and there ye shall be my Gueſts :

Something I can command : as I walk thither

I tell ye more.

Both. You may command us Sir.

Exeunt.

## Scena Secunda.

Enter Katherine Dowager, ſick, led between *Griffith*,
her Gentleman-Usher, and *Patience*
her Woman.

*Grif*. How do's your Grace?

*Kath.* O *Griffith*, ſick to death :

My Legges like loaded Branches bow to th'Earth,
Willing to leave their burthen : Reach a Chair,
So, now (me thinks) I feel a little eafe,
Did it thou not tell me *Griffith*, as thou lead't me,
That the great Child of Honour, Cardinal *Wolfey*
Was dead?

*Grif.* Yes Madam: but I think your Grace
Out of the pain youuffer'd, gave no ear to't.

*Kath.* Prythee good *Griffith*, tell me how he dy'd,
If well, he ftept before me happily
For my example.

*Grif.* Well, the voice goes Madam,
For after the late Earl *Northumberland*
Arreſted him at *Yor-k*, and brought him forward
As a man forely tainted, to his anſwer,
He ſell ſick ſufully, and grew ſo ill
He could not ſit his Mule.

*Kath.* Alas poor man.

*Grif.* At last, with eafe Roads he came to *Leiceſter*,

Lodg'd in the Abbey ; where the reverend Abbot
With all his Covent, honourably receiv'd him :
To whom he gave theſe words, O Father Abbot,
An old man, broken with the ſtorms of State,
Is come to lay his weary bones among ye :
Give him a little earth for Charity.
So went to bed ; where eagerly his ſickneſs
Purſu'd him ſill, and three nights after this,
About the hour of eight, which he himself
Foretold ſhould be his laſt, full Repentance,
Continual Meditations, Tears, and Sorrows,
He give his honours to the world agen,
His bleſſed part to heaven, and flept in peace.

*Kath.* So may he left,
His faults lye on him.

Yet thus far *Griffith*, give me leave to ſpeak him,
And yet with Charity: he was, a man
Of an unbounded ſtomack, ever ranking
Himſelf with Princes. One that by ſugſection
Ty'd all the Kingdome, Simony was fair play,
His own Opinion was his Law. Ith'prefence
He would ſay untruths, and be ever double
Both in his words, and meaning. He was never
(But where he meant to Ruine) pitifull.
His Promiſes, were as he then was, Mighty :
But his Performance, as he is now, Nothing :
Of his own body he was ill, and gave
The Clergy ill example.

*Grif.* Noble Madam :

Men's evil manners, live in Braſs, their Virtues
We write in Water. May it pleate your Highneſts
To hear me ſpeak his good now ?

*Kath.* Yes good *Griffith*,
I were malicious elfe.

*Grif.* This Cardinal,

Though from an humble Stock, undoubtedly
Was ſaſhion'd to much honour. From his Cradle
He was a Scholar, and a ripe, and good one :
Exceeding wife, fair ſpoken, and perſwading :
Lofty, and ſowre to them that lov'd him not :
But to thofe men that fought him, ſweet as Summer,
And though he were unſatiſhed in getting,
(Which was a fin) yet in البَتْlowing, Madam,
He was moſt Princely : Ever witneſs for him
The ſeſtwinnes of Learning, that he rais'd in you,
*Ipswich* and *Oxford*: one of which, fell with him,
Unwilling to out-live the good that did it.
The other (though unfiniſh'd) yet ſo Famous,
So excellent in Art, and ſtill ſo rifing,
That Chriſtendome ſhall ever ſpeak his Virtue.
His Overthrow, heap'd Happineſs upon him :
For then, and not 'till then, he felt himself,
Aud found the Bleſſedneſs of being little.
And to adde greater Honours to his Age
Then man could gije him; he dy'd, fearing God.

*Kath.* After my death, I wifh no other Herald,
No other ſpeaker of my living Actions,
To keep mine Honour, from Corruption,
But ſuch an honest Chronicler as *Griffith*,
Whom I moſt hated Living, thou haſt made me
With thy Religious Truth, and Modesty,
(Now in his Afhers) Honour Peace be with him.
*Patience*, be near me ſill, and fet me lower.
I have not long to trouble thee. Good *Griffith*,
Caue the Musicians play me that sad note
I nam'd my Knell; whileſt I fit meditating.

Aaa 3

On

On that Celestial Harmony I go to.

Sad and solemn Musick.

Grif. She is asleep: Good wench, let's sit down quiet,
For fear we wake her. Softly gentle Patience.

The Vision.

Enter solemnly tripping one after another, fix Personages,
elad in white Robes, wearing on their head Garlands
of Bayes, and golden Vizards on their faces, Branches
of Bayes or Palm in their hands. They first Congee un-
to her, then Dance: and at certain Changes, the
first two hold a spare Garland over her Head, at which
the other four make reverend Curtfies. Then the two
that held the Garland, deliver the same to the other
next two, who observe the same order in their Charges,
and holding the Garland over her head, Which done,
they deliver the same Garland to the last two: who
likewise observe the same Order. At which (as it were
by inspiration) she makes (in her sleep) signes of re-
joying, and holdeth up her hands to heaven. And so,
in their Dancing vanish, carrying the Garland with
them. The Musick continues.

Kath. Spite of peace, where are ye? Are ye all gone?
And leave me here in wretchedneſs, behind ye?

Grif. Madam, we are here.

Kath. It is not you I call for,

Saw ye none enter since I flept ?

Grif. None, Madam.

Kath. No? Saw you not even now a bleffed troop
Invite me to a Banquet, whose bright faces
Caft a thousand beams upon me, like the Sun?

They promis'd me eternal Happineſs,
And brought me Garlands (Griffith) which I feel
I am not worthy yet to wear : I shall afluredly.

Grif. I am molt joyfull Madam, ſuch good dreames
Poffeſs your Fancy.

Kath. Bid the Musick leave,

They are harſh and heavy to me.

Musick ceafes.

Patience. Do you note

How much her Grace is alter'd on the fodain ?

How long her face is drawn ? How pale she looks,

And of an earthy cold ? Mark her eyes.

Grif. She is going Wench, Pray, pray.

Pati. Heaven comfort her.

Enter a Meſſenger.

Mef. And not like your Grace

Kat. You are a fawcy Fellow,

Deſerve we no more Reverence ?

Grif. You are to blame,

Knowing she will not loofe her wonted Greatneſs
To uſe so rude behaviour. Go to, kneel.

Mef. I humbly do intreat your Highneſs pardon,
My haſte made me unmannerly. There is flaying
A Gentleman ſent from the King, to fee you.

Kath. Admit him entrance. Griffith. But this Fellow
Let me ne're fee again.

Exit Meſſeng.

Enter Lord Capuchius.

If my fight fail me not,

You should be Lord Ambassador from the Emperor,
My Royal Nephew, and your name Capuchius.

Cap. Madam the fame. Your Servant.

Kath. O my Lord,

The times and titles now are alter'd (frangely)
With me, ſince firſt you knew me.

But I pray you,

What is your pleafure with me ?

Cap. Noble Lady,

First mine own ſervice to your Grace, the next
The King's requeſt, that I would viſit you,
Who grieves much for your weakneſs, and by me
Sends you his Princely commendations,
And heartily intreats you take good comfort.

Kath. O my good Lord, that comfort comes too late,
'Tis like a Pardon after Execution ;

That gentle Phyſick given in time, had cur'd me :
But now I am paſt all Comforts here, but Prayers.
How does his Highneſs?

Cap. Madam, in good health,

Kath. So may he ever do, and ever flouriſh,
When I haſt dwell with Wormes, and my poor name
Banifh'd the Kingdome. Patience, is that Letter
I cauſ'd you write, yet ſent away.

Pat. No Madam.

Kath. Sir, I moſt humbly pray you to deliver
This to my Lord the King.

Cap. Moſt willingly Madam.

Kath. In which I have commended to his goodneſs
The Model of our chaſte loves : his young daughter,
The dewes of Heaven fall thick in Bledſings on her,
Befeeching him to give her virtuous breeding.

She is young, and of a Noble moded Nature,
I hope he will deſerve well, and a little

To love her for her Mother's ſake: that Iov'd him :
Heaven knows how dearly.

My next poor Petition

Is, that his Noble Grace would have ſome pitie
Upon my wretched women, that to long
Have follow'd both my Fortunes, faithfully,
Of which there is not one, I dare avow

(And now I should not lye) but well deſerve
For Virtue, and true Beauty of the Soul,
For honeſtly, and decent Carriage

A right good Husband (let him be a Noble)

And ſure that ſmen are happy that they have'em.

The laſt is for my men, they are the pooreſt,
(But poverty could never draw'em from me)

That they may have their wages duly paid'em,
And ſomething over to remember me by.

If Heaven had pleas'd to have given me longer life
And able means, we had not parted thus,

Theſe are the whole Contents, and good my Lord,
By that you love the deareſt in this world,
As you with Chriſtian peace to Soules departed,
Stand theſe poor peoples Friend, and urge the King
To do me this laſt right.

Cap. By Heaven I will,

Or let me looke the ſaſhion of a man.

Kath. I thank you Heauen, Lord. Remember me
In all humility unto his Highneſs :

Say his long trouble now is palfing

Out of this world. Tell him in death I bled him
(For so I will:) mine eyes grow dimne. Farewell

My Lord. Griffith farewell. Nay Patience,

You muſt not leave me yet. I muſt be bed,
Call in more Women. When I am dead, good Wench,
Let me be us'd with Honour; I flowre me over

With Maiden Flowers, that all the world may know
I was a chaſt Wife to my Grave: Embalm me,
Then lay me forth (although un-Queen'd) yet like
A Queen, and Daughter to a King inter me.
I can no more.

Exeunt leading Katherine.

Aetn.

Altus Quintus. Scena Prima.

Enter Gardiner Bifhop of Winchester, a Page with a
Torch before him, met by Sir Thomas Lovel.

Gard. It's one a clock Boy, is't not,
Boy. It hath ftook,
Gard. These should be houres for necesities,
Not for delights: times to repair our Nature
With comforting repofe, and not for us
To waſte theſe times. Good hour of night, Sir Thomas:
Whither fo late ?
Lov. Came you from the King, my Lord ?
Gard. I did, Sir Thomas, and left him at Primero.
With the Duke of Suffolk.
Lov. I muſt to him too

Before he goe to Bed. I'le take my leave.
Gard. Not yet Sir Thomas Lovel: what's the matter ?
It seems you are in hafte: and if there be
No great offence belongs to't, give your Friend
Some touch of your late buſineſs: Affairs that walk
(Asthey ſay Spirits do) at midnight, have
In them a wilder Nature, then the buſineſs
That feeks disſpatch by day.
Lov. My Lord, I love you ;
And durſt commend a ſecre to your ear
Much weightier then this work. The Queen's in Labor
They ſay in great Extremity, and fear'd
She'll with the Labour, end.
Gard. The fruit the goes with
I pray for heartily, that it may ſinde
Good time, and live: but for the Stock Sir Thomas,
I wifh it grubb'd up now.
Lov. Me thinks I could
Cry the Amen, and yet my Conſience ſayes
She's a good Creature, and ſweet Lady, do's
Deferve our better wifhes.
Gard. But Sir, Sir.

Hear me, Sir Thomas, y'are a Gentleman
Of mine own way. I know you are Wife, Religious,
And let me tell you, it will ne're be well ;
'Twill not, Sir Thomas Lovel, tak't of me,
'Till Crammer, Cromwel, her two hands, and the
Sleep in their Graves.
Lov. Now Sir, you ſpeak of two
The moſt remark'd i'th'Kingdome; as for Cromwel,
Befide that of the Jewel-Houſe, is made Maſter
O'th'Rolles, and the King's Secretary. Further Sir
Stands in the gap and trade of moe Preferments,
With which the Lime will load him. Th'Archbifhop
Is the King's hand, or tongue, and who dare ſpeak
One ſyllable againſt him ?
Gard. Yes, ycs. Sir Thomas,

There are that Dare, and I my ſelf have ventur'd
To ſpeak my mind of him: and indeed this day,
Sir (I may tell it you) I think I have
Incenſt the Lords of the Council, that he is
(For ſo I know he is, they know he is)
A moſt Arch-Heretick, a Peſtſilence
That does inſect the Land: with which, they moved
Have broken with the King, who hath ſo far
Given ear to our Complaint, of his great Grace,
And Princely Care, fore-ſeeing that he ſell Michtſeſes,

Our Reaſons laid before him, hath commanded
To morrow morning to the Councel Board
He be convened. He's a rank weed, Sir Thomas,
And we muſt root him out. From your Affairs
I hinder you too long: Good night, Sir Thomas.
Exit Gardiner and Page.

Lov. Many good nights, my Lord, I reſt your tervant.
Enter King and Suffolk.

King. Charles, I will play no more to night,
My mind's not on't, you are too hard for me.
Suff. Sir, I did never win of you before.
King. But little Charles,

Nor ſhall not when my Fancie's on my Play.
Now Lovel, from the Queen what is the News,
Lov. I could not perſonally deliver to her
What you commanded me, but by her woman,
I ſent your Meffage, who return'd her thanks
In the great ſt humbleneſs, and deſir'd your Highneſs
Moſt heartily to pray for her.

King. What ſay it thou ? Ha ?
To pray for her ? What, is the crying out ?
Lov. So faſid her woman, and that her ſuff'rance made
Almoſt each pang, a death.

King. Alas good Lady,
Suff. God safely quit her of her Burthen, and
With gentle travail, to the gladding of
Your Highneſs with an Heir.

King. 'Tis midnight, Charles.
Prythee to bed, and in thy Prayers remember
Th'eflaſtate of my poor Queen. Leave me alone,
For I muſt think of that, which company
Would not be friendly to.
Suff. I wifh your Highneſs
A quiet night, and my good Miftris will
Remember in my Prayers,
King. Charles, good night.
Well Sir, what follows ?
Enter Sir Anthony Denny.
Den. Sir, I have brought my Lord the Archbifhop,
As you commanded me.

King. Ha ? Canterbury ?
Den. I my good Lord.
King. 'Tis true: where is he Denny ?
Den. He attends your Highneſs pleaſure.
King. Bring him to Us.
Lov. This is about that, which the Bifhop ſpake,
I am happily come hither.
Enter Crammer and Denny.
King. Avoid the Gallery.
Lovel seemeth to ſlay.

Ha ? I have faſid, be gone.
Exeunt Lovel and Denny.
Cran. I am fearfull: Wherefore frowns he thus ?
'Tis his Aſpect of terror. All's not well.

King. How now my Lord ?
You do deſire to know wherefore
I ſent for you.
Cran. It is my duty
T'attend your Highneſs pleaſure.
King. Pray you arife
My good and gracious Lord of Canterbury:
Come, you and I muſt walk a turn together :
I have News to tell you.
Come, come, give me your hand.

Ah my good Lord, I grieve at what I ſpeak,
And am right forry to repeat what follows,
I have, and moſt unwillingly of late

Heard

564

Heard many grievous: I do say my Lord
Grievous complaints of you; which being confider'd,
Have mov'd Lis, and our Councel, that you shall
This morning come before us, where I know
You cannot with such freedome purge your self,
But that 'till further Trial, in thofe Charges
Which will require your Anfwer, you muſt take
Your patience to you, and be well contented
To make your houſe our Towre: you, a Brother of us
It fits we thus proceed, or eſſe no wittneſs
Would come againſt you.

Cran. I humbly thank your Highneſts,
And am right glad to catch this good occafion
Moft throughly to be winnowed, where my Chaffe
And Corn ſhall flie aſunder. For I know
There's none ſtands under more calumnious tongues,
Then I my ſelf, poor man.

King. Stand up, good Canterbury,
Thy Truth, and thy Integrity is rooted
In us thy Friends: Give me thy hand, ſtand up,
Prythee let's walk. Now by my Holydame,
What manner of man are you? My Lord, I look'd
You would have given me your Petition, that
I should have ta'ne fome pains, to bring together
Your ſelfs, and your Accufers, and to have heard you
Without indurance further.

Cran. Moft dread Liege,
The good I ſtand on, is my Truth and Honeſty:
If they ſhall fail, I with mine Enemie
Will triumph o're my perſon, which I waigh not,
Being of thofe Viruſes vacant. I fear nothing
What can be ſaid againſt me.

King. Know you not
How your ſtate ſtands i'th'world, with the whole world ?
Your Enemie are many, and not ſmall; their practices
Mußt bear the fame proportion, and not ever
The Juftice and the Truth o'th' queſtion carries
The due o'th Verdict with it; at what eafe
Might corrupt minds procure, Knaves as corrupt
To ſwear againſt you: Such things have been done.
You are potently oppo'd, and with a Malice
Of as great ſize. Ween you of better luck,
I mean in perju'd Witneſs, then your Maſter,
Whofe Minifter you are, whiles here he liv'd
Upon this naughty Earth ? Go to, go to,
You take a Precipice for no leap of danger,
And woo your own deſtruction.

Cran. God, and your Majefty
Proteſt mine innocence, or I fall into
The trap is laid for me.

King. Be of good cheer,
They ſhall no more prevail, then we give way to:
Keep comfort to you, and this Morning fee
You do appear before them. If they ſhall chance
In charging you with matters, to commit you:
The beſt perſuafions to the contrary
Fail not to uſe; and with what vehemencie
Th'occafion ſhall inſtruct you. If intreaties
Will render you no remedy, this Ring
Deliver them, and your Appeal to us
There make before them. Look, the good man weeps:
He's honſt on mine Honour. God's bleſt Mother,
I wear he is true-hearted, and a foul
None better in my Kingdome. Get you gone,
And do as I have bid you.
He has ſtrangled all his Language in his tears.

Exit Cranmer.

Enter Old Lady.

Gent. within. Come back: what mean you ?
Lady. I'le not come back, the tidings that I bring
Will make my boldneſs manners. Now good Angels
Fly o're thy Royal head, and ſhade thy perſon
Under their bleſſed wings.

King. Now by thy looks
I gueſt thy Mefflage. Is the Queen deliver'd ?
Say I, and of a Boy.

Lady. I, I my Liege ;
And of a lovely Boy ; the God of heaven
Both now, and ever bleſſe her : 'Tis a Girle
Promifes Boyes hereafter. Sir, your Queen
Defires your Vifitation, and to be
Acquainted with this ſtranger ; 'tis as like you
As Cherry, is to Cherry

King. Lovel.

Lov. Sir.

King. Give her an hundred Marks.
Ple to the Queen.
Exit King.

Lady. An hundred Marks? By this light, I'le ha' more.
An ordinary Groom is for ſuch payment,
I will have more, or ſcold it out of him.
Said I for this, the Girl was like to him? I'le
Have more, or eſſe unfay't : and now, while 'tis hot,
I'le put it to the illſue.
Exit Lady.

Scena Secunda.

Enter Cranmer, Archbishop of Canterbury.

Cran. I hope I am not too late, and yet the Gentleman
That was ſent to me from the Councel, pray'd me
To make great haffe. All ſaſt ? What means this? Hoa ?
Who waits there? Sure you know me ?

Enter Keeper.

King. Yes; my Lord:
But yet I cannot help you.

Cran. Why ?

Keep. Your Grace muſt wait 'till you be call'd for.

Enter Dollor Butts.

Cran. So.

Butts. This is a piece of Malice: I am glad
I came this way fo' happily. The King
Shall understand it poffently.
Exit Butts.

Cran. 'Tis Butts,
The King's Phyſician, as he pafft along
How earneſtly he caſt his eyes upon me :
Pray heaven he found not my diftrefe: for certain
This is of purpofe laid by ſome that hate me,
(God turn their hearts, I never ſought their malice)
To quench mine honour; they would ſhame to make me
Wait eſſe at door: a fellow Councellor
'Mong Boyes, Groomes, and Lackeeyes.
But their pleafures
Mußt be fulfill'd, and I attend with patience.

Enter the King, and Butts, at a Window
above.

Butts. I'le ſhew your Grace the ſtrangeſt fight.
King. What's that Butts ?

Butts.

Butts. I think your Highnefs saw this many a day.

King. Body a me: where is it?

Butts. There my Lord :

The high promotion of his Grace of Canterbury,
Who holds his State at door 'mongst Purfevints,
Pages, and Foot-boys.

King. Ha ? 'tis he indeed.

Is this the Honour they do one another ?

'Tis well there's one above'em yet; I had thought
They had parted so much honeſty among'em,
At least good manners; as not thus to ſuffer

A man of his Place, and so near our favour
To dance attendance on their Lordships pleafures,
And at the door too, like a Poſte with Packets :

By holy Mary (Butts) there's kna very ;

Let'em alone, and draw the Curtain close :

We shall hear more anon.

A Council Table brought in with Chairs and Stools, and
placed under the State, Enter Lord Chancellor, places
himself at the upper end of the Table, on the left hand:

A Seat being left void above him, as for Canterbury
Seat. Duke of Suffolk, Duke of Norfolk, Surrey,
Lord Chamberlain, Gardiner, ſeat themſelſe in Or-
der on each ſide. Cromwell at lower end, as Secretary.

Chan. Speak to the buſineſs, Mr. Secretary ;

Why are we met in Councel ?

Crom. Pleafe your Honours,

The chief cauſe concerns his Grace of Canterbury.

Gard. Ha's he had knowledge of it ?

Crom. Yes.

Norf. Who waits there ?

Keep. Without my Noble Lords.

Gard. Yes.

Keep. My Lord Archbifhop :

And ha's done half an hour to know your pleaſures.

Chan. Let him come in.

Keep. Your Grace may enter now.

Cranmer approaches the Council Table.

Chan. My good Lord Archbifhop, I'm very forry

To fit here at this prefent, and behold

That Chair ſtand empty : But we are men

In our own natures frail, and capable

Of our ſleth, few are Angels; out of which frailty

And want of wifdome, you that beſt (should teach us,

Have miſdemean'd your ſelf, and not a little :

Toward the King firſt, then his Lawes, in filling

The whole Realm, by your teaching and your Chaplains
(For ſo we are inform'd) with new opinions,

Divers and dangerous ; which are Hereſives ;

And not reform'd, may prove pernicious,

Gard. Which Reformation muſt be ſudden too

My Noble Lords, for thofe that tame wild Horſes,
Pace'em not in their hands to make'em gentle ;

But ſtop their mouthes with ſtubbom Bits and ſpurre'em,
*Till they obey the manage. If we ſuffer

Out of our eafineſs and childſhie pitie

To one man's Honour, this contagious ſickneſs ;

Farewell all Phyſick: and what follows then ?

Commotions, uproars, with a general taint

Of the whole State : of late dayes our neighbours,

The upper Germany can dearly wittneſs :

Yet freshly pitied in our memories.

Cran. My good Lords; Hitherto, in all the Progreſſs
Both of my Life and Office, I have labour'd,

And with no little ſtudy, that my teaching

And the ſtrong courfe of my Authority,

Might go one way, and safely ; and the end

Was ever to do well : nor is there living,

(I ſpeak it with a ſingle heart my Lords)

A man that more deteſſs, more ſtirres againſt,

Both in his private Conſcience, and his place,

Defacers of a publick Peace then I do :

Pray Heaven the King may never find a heart

With leſs Allegiance in it. Men that make

Envy, and crooked malice, nouriſhment ;

Dare bite the beſt. I do beſeeth your Lordships,

That in this caſe of Juſtice, my Accuſers,

Be what they will, may ſtand forth ſface to ſace,

And freely urge againſt me.

Suff. Nay, my Lord,

That cannot be ; you are a Counſellor,

And by that virtue no man dare accuſe you.

(ment,

Gard. My Lord, becauſe we have buſineſs of more mo-

We will be ſhort with you. 'Tis his Highneſs p'eaſure

And our conſent, for better tryal of you,

From hence you be committed to the Tower,

Where being but a private man again,

You ſhall know many dare accuſe you boldly,

More then (I fear) you are provided for.

Cran. Ahmy good Lord of Winchſter : I thank you,
You are always my good Friend, if your wil' I paſs,

I ſhall both find your Lordship, Judge and Juror,

You are ſo merciſul. I fee your end,

'Tis my undoing. Love and meekneſs, Lord !

Become a Churchman better then Ambition :

Win ſtraying Soules with modeſtly again,

Caſt none away. That I ſhall clear my ſel ſe,

Lay all the waight ye can upon my patience ;

I make a little doubt as you do confiſcience ;

In doing daily wrongs, I could ſay mor e,

But reverence to your calling, makes me modeſt.

Gard. My Lord, my Lord, you are a ſe Sectary,

That's the plain truth ; your painted ſe Iofs diſeovers

To men that understand you, words are weakneſs.

Crom. My Lord of Winchſter, y'a re a little,

By your good favour, too ſharp ; M en ſo Noble,

How ever faulty, yet ſhould find re ſpect

For what they have been : 'tis a cr e ſelty,

To load a falling man.

Gard. Good Mr. Secretary,

I cry your Honour mercy ; you I may worſt

Of all this table ſay ſo.

Crom. Why my Lord ?

Gard. Do not I know you for a Favourer

Of this new Sect ? ye are no : found.

Crom. Not found ?

Gard. Not found I ſay.

Crom. Would you were half ſo honest :

Men's prayers then would ſee k you, not their fears.

Gard. I ſhall remember this bold Language.

Crom. Doc.

Remember your bold life a too.

Cham. This is too much.

Forbear for ſhame my Lords.

Gard. I have done.

Crom. And I.

Cham. Then though for you my Lord, it stands agreed

I take it, by all voic'es : that forthwith,

You be convey'd to th' Tower a Prifoner ;

There to remain t ill the Kings further p'eaſure

Be known unto u : are you all agreed Lords.

All

The Tragedy of Julius Caesar.

695

Weighing the youthful Season of the year.

Some two moneths hence, up higher toward the North
He first pre矣s his fire, and the high Eaſt

Stands as the Capitol, directly here.

Bra. Give me your hands all over, one by one.

Caff. And let us wear our revolution.

Bra. No, not an Oath: if not the Face of men,
The sufferance of our foules, the times abufe ;

If these be Motives weak, break off betimes,
And every man hence, to his idle bed :

So let high-lighted-Tyranny range on,
Till each man drop by Lottery. But if these

(As I am sure they do) bear fire enough

To kindle Cowards, and to feel with valour

The melting Spirits of women; Then Country men,
What need we any fur, but our own caufe
To prick us to redrefs ? What other Bond,
Then secret Romans, that have spoke the word,
And will not falter ? And what other Oath,
Then Honesty to Honesty engag'd,

That this shall be, or we will fall for it.

Sweat Prieſts and Cowards, and men cautious,
Old feeble Carrions, and ſuch ſuffering foules
That welcom wrongs: Unto bad caufes, (wear
Such Creatures as men doubt; but do not ſlain
The even verue of our Enterprize,

Nor thisSUPPREFLREUve Mettle of our Spirits,
To think, that or our Caufe, or our Performance
Did need an Oath. When every drop of blood
That every Roman beares, and Nobly beares
Is guilty of a ſeveral Baſtardy,

If he do break the ſmallest Particule
Of any promife that hath paff from him.

Bra. But what of Cicerò ? Shall we found him ?
I think he will ſtand very ſtrong with us.

Cask. Let us not leave him out.

Cin. No, by no means.

Met. O let us have him, for his Silver hairs
Will purchase us a good opinion.

And buy mens voyces, to commend our deeds :

It shall be faſd, his judgment rul'd our hands,
Our youths, and wildneſs, shall no whit appear,
But all be buried in his gravity.

Bra. O name him not; let us not break with him,
For he will never follow any thing
That other men begin.

Caf. Then leave him out.

Caks. Indeed, he is not fit.

Dec. Shall no man else be roucht, but only Cæsar ?

Caf. Decius, well urg'd: I think it is not meet,
Mark Antony, to well beloved of Cæsar,

Should out-live Cæsar, we shall find of him

A ſhrewd Contriver. And you know, his means

If he improve them, may well ſtretch to far

As to annoy us all: which to prevent,

Let Antony and Cæsar fall together.

Bra. Our courſe will seem too bloudy, Caius Caiſiус,
To cut the Head off, and then hack the Limbs :

Like wrath in death, and Envy afterwards.
For Antony, is but a Limb of Cæsar.

Let's be Sacrificers, but not Butchers Caius :

We all ſtand up againſt the ſpirit of Cæsar,

And in the Spirit of men, there is no bloud :
O that we then could come by Cæsar Spirits,

And not difſmember Cæsar! But ( alas )

Cæsar muſt bleed for it. And gentle Friends,

Let's kill him boldly, but not wrathfully :

Let's carve him, as a Difſt fit for the Gods,

Not hew him as a Carkaſs fit for Hounds ;

And let our hearts, as fubtle Maſters do,

Stir up their ſervants to an act of rage,

And after ſeem to chide em. This ſhall make

Our purpofe neceſſary, and not envious.

Which ſo appearing to the common eyes,

We ſhall be cali'd Purgers, not Murderers.

And for Mark Antony, think not of him :

For he can do no more then Cæsar's Arm,

When Cæsar's head is off.

Caf. Yet I fear him,

For in the ingrafted Love he beares to Cæsar.

Bra. Alas good Caiſius, do not think of him :

If he love Cæsar, all that he can do

Is to himself, take thought, and die for Cæsar.

And that were much he ſhould : for he is given

To ſports, to wildneſs, and much company.

Treb. There is no fear in him; let him not die,
For he will live, and laugh at this hereafter.

Clockstrikes.

Bra. Peace, count the Clock.

Caf. The Clock hath ſtricken three.

Treb. 'Tis time to part.

Caf. But it is doubtful yet,

Whether Cæsar will come forth to day, or no ;

For he is ſuperſticious grown of late,

Quite from the main Opinion he held once,

Of Fantafie, of Dreams, and Ceremonies :

It may be, theſe apparent Prodigies,

The unaccuſtom'd terror of this Night,

And the perſwafion of his Augurers,

May hold him from the Capitol to day.

Dec. Never fear that: if he be ſo refolu'd,

I can oreſway him: for he loves to hear,

That Unicornes may be betray'd with trees,

And Bears with Glafles, Elephants with Holes,

Lions with Toiles, and men with Flatterers.

But, when I tell him, he hates Flatterers,

He faies, he does ; being then moſt fluttered.

Let me work :

For I can give his humour the true bent ;

And I will bring him to the Capitol.

Caf. Noy, we will all of us be there to ſetch him.

Bra. By the eight hour, is that the uttermoſt ?

Cin. Be that the uttermoſt, and fail not then.

Met. Caius Ligarius dorth bear Cæsar hatred,
Who rated him for speaking well of Pompey,
I wonder none of you have thought of him.

Bra. Now good Metellus go along by him :
He loves me well, and I have given him Reaſons,
Send him but hither, and Ile fashion him.

Caf. The Morning comes upon's :
Wee'l leave you Brutus,

And friends diſperſe your ſelves; but all remember

VWhat you have faſd, and then your ſelves true Romans.

Bra. Good Gentlemen, look fresh and merrily,

Let not our looks put on our purpofes,

But bear it as our Roman Actors do,

VWith uncur'd ſpirits, and formal Conſtançay,

And fogood morrow to you every one.

Manet Brutus.

Exenut.

Boy: Lacieus: Aſt aſſeep ? It is no matter,

Enjoy the hony-heavy-dew of Slumber :

Thou haſt no Figures, nor no Fantafies,

Nnn 2

VWhich

The Tragedy of Julius Caesar.

696

Which busie care drawes, in the braines of men;
Therefore thou fleep it ſo found.

Enter Portia.

Por. Brutus, my Lord.

Bru. Portia, What mean you ? wherefore rife you now ?

It is not for your health, thus to commit

Your weak condition, to the raw cold morning.

Por. Nor for yours neither. Yhave ungently Brutus
Stole from my Bed : and yefternight at Supper
You suddenly aroſe, and walk'd about,
Muſing, and fighting, with your armes a-croſs :
And when I ask'd you what the matter was,
You ſtar'd upon me, with ungentle lookes.
I urg'd you further, then you ſcatch'd your head,
And too impatiently ſtampt with your foot :

Yet I infiſted, yet you anſwer'd not,
But with an angry waſter of your hand
Gave ſign for me to leave you: So I did,
Fearing to ſtrengthen that impatience
Which ſeem'd too much inkindled, and withal;
Hoping it was but an effect of Humor,
Which ſontime hath his hour with every man.
I will not let you eat, nor talk, nor ſleep ;
And could it work ſo much upon your ſhape,
As it hath much prevail'd on your Condition,
I should not know you Brutus. Dear my Lord,
Make me acquainted with your cauſe of grief.

Bru. I am not well in health, and that is all.

Por. Brutus is wife, and were he not in health,
He would embrace the means to come by it.

Bru. Why ſo I do : good Portia go to bed.

Por. Is Brutus ſick ? and is it Phylical

To walk unbraced, and fuck up the humors
Of the dark Morning ? What, is Brutus ſick ?
And will he ſcal out of his wholſom bed,
To dare the vile contagion of the Night ?
And tempt the Rheumy, and unpurged Ayr
To add unto his ſickneſs ? No my Brutus,
You have ſome ſick offence within your mind,
Which by the Right and Verue of my place
I ought to know of : And upon my knees,
I charm you, by my once commended Beauty,
By all your vowes of Love, and that great Vow
Which did incorporate and make us one,
That you unfold to me, your ſelf; your half;
Why you are heavy, and what men to night
Have had reſort to you: for here have been
Some fix or ſeven, who did hide their faces
Even from darkneſs.

Bru. Kneel not gentle Portia.

Por. I should not need, if you were gentle Brutus.
Within the bond of Marriage, tell me Brutus,
Is it excepted, I should know no Secrets
That appertain to you ? Am I your ſelf,
But as it were in fort, or limitation ?
To keep with you at meales, comfort your Bed,
And talk to you ſometimes ? Dwell I but in the Suburbs
Of your good pleasure ? If it be no more,
Portia is Brutus Harlot, not his wife.

Bru. You are my true and honourable wife,
As dear to me, as are the ruddy drops
That vifit my ſad heart.

Por. If this were true, then should I know this ſecret.
I grant I am a woman ; but withal,
A woman that Lord Brutus took to wife:
I grant I am a woman ; but withal,

A woman well reputed : Cato's Daughter.

Think you, I am no ſtronger then my Sex
Being to Father'd, and to Husbanded ?

Tell me your Counſels, I will not difeſe em:

I have made ſtrong proof of my Conſtancy,

Giving my ſelf a voluntary wound.

Here, in the Thigh : Can I bear that with patience,
And not my Husbands Secrets ?

Bru. O ye Gods!

Render me worthy of this Noble wife.

Knock.

Heark, heark, one knocks : Portia go in a while,

And by and by thy boſom ſhall partake

The ſecrets of my heart.

All my engagements, I will conſtrue to thee,

All the Chariſery of my ſad browes :

Leave me with haſt,

Exit Portia.

Enter Lucius, and Ligarius.

Lucius, who's that knockes?

Luc. Here is a ſick man that would ſpeak with you.

Bru. Causus Ligarius, that Metellus ſpake of.

Boy, I land afide. Caius Ligarius, how ?

Bru. Vouchſake good morrow from a feeble tongue.

Bru. O what a time have you choſe out brave Caius

To wear a Kerchief ? Would you were not ſicks.

Cai. I am not ſick, if Brutus have in hand

Any exploit worthy the name of Honour,

Bru. Such an exploit have I in hand Ligarius,
H'd you a healthful eat to hear of it.

Cai. By all the Gods that Romans bow before,
I here diſcard my ſickneſs. Soul of Rome,

Brave Son, deriv'd from honourable Loynes,

Thou like an Exorcife, haſt conjur'd up

My mortified Spirit. Now bid me run,

And I will ſtrive with things impoffible,
Yea get the better of them. What's to do ?

Bru. A piece of work,

That will make ſick men whole.

Cai. But are not ſome whole, that we muſt make ſick?

Bru. That muſt we alſo. What it is my Caius,

I ſhall unfold to thee, as we are going,

To whom it muſt be done.

Cai. Set on your foot,

And with a heart nevſi'd, I follow you,

To do I know not what : but it ſufficeth

That Brutus leads me on.

Bru. Follow me then.

Thunder.

Excunt.

Thunder and Lightning.

Enter Julins Caſar in his Night-Gown.

Caſar. Nor Heaven, nor Earth,

Have been at peace to night :

Thrice hath Calpharnia in her ſleep cryed out ;

Help, ho: they murder Caſar. Who's within ?

Enter a Servant.

Ser. My Lord.

Caſ. Go bid the Priefts do preſent Sacrifice,
And bring me their opinions of Success.

Ser. I will my Lord.

Enter Calpharnia.

Caſ. What mean you Caſar ? Think you to walk forth ?
You ſhall not flir out of your houſe to day.

Caſ. Caſar ſhall forth: the things that threaten'd me,
Ne'r lookt but on my back: When they ſhall fee
The face of Caſar, they are vanilſaed.

Calp.

The Tragedy of Julius Caesar.

697

Calp. *Caesar*, I never flood on Ceremonies,
Yet now they fright me: There is one within,
Besides the things that we have heard and seen,
Recounts moft horrid fights feen by the Watch.
A Lionefs hath whelped in the freets,
And Graves have yawnd, and yielded up their dead;
Fierce fiery warriours fight upon the Clouds
In Rankes and Squadrons, and right form of war
Which drizzel'd bloud upon the Capitol :
The noife of Battel hurried in the Ayr :
HorSES did neigh, and dying men did groan,
And Ghofts did friek and squeal about the freets.
O *Caesar*, theſe things are beyond all uſe,
And I do fear them.

*Caef.* What can be avoyded

Whole end is purpòs'd by the mighty Gods?
Yet *Caesar* shall go forth: for theſe Predictions
Are to the world in general, as to *Caesar*.
*Calp.* When Beggars die, there are no Comers seen,
The Heavens themelves blaze forth the death of Princes.
*Caef.* Cowards die many times before their deaths,
The valiant never taſt of death but once:
Of all the wonders that I yet have heard,
It ſeemes to me moſt ſtrange that men ſhould fear,
Seeing that death, a neceſſary end
Will come, when it will come.

*Enter a Servant.*

VWhat ſay the Augurers?

*Ser.* They would not have you to ſit forth to day.
Plucking the Entrals of an Offering forth,
They could not find a heart within the beaſt.

*Caef.* *Caesar* do this in ſhame of Cowardife:

*Caef.* *I* ſhould be a Beaſt without a heart
If he ſhould ſtay at home to day for fear :
No, *Caesar* shall not; *Danger* knowes full well
That *Caesar* is more dangerous then he.
We hear two Lions litter'd in one day,
And I the elder and more terrible,
And *Caesar* shall go forth.

*Cal.* Alas my Lord,

*Your wifdom is confum'd in confidence :
Do not go forth to day : Call it my fear,
That keepeſ you in the houſe, and not your own.
We'll ſend Mark Antony to the Senate houſe,
And he ſhall ſay, you are not well to day :
Let me upon my knee prevail in this*

*Caef. Mark Antony* *shall ſay I am not well*,

And for thy humour, I will ſtay at home.

*Enter Decius.*

Here's *Decius Brutus* he ſhall tell them ſo.

*Dec.* *Caesar*, all hail: Good morrow worthy *Caesar*,
I come to fetch you to the Senate houſe.

*Caef.* And you are come in very happy time,

To bear my greeting to the Senators,

And tell them that I will not come to day :

Cannot, is falſe: and that I dare not, falſer :

I will not come to day, tell them ſo Decius,

*Cal.* Say he is ſick.

*Caef.* *Shall *Caesar* ſend a Lye ?

Have I in Conqueſt ſtretch mine Arm ſo far,

To be aſeate'd to tell Gray-beards the truth :

*Decius*, go tell them, *Caesar* will not come.

*Dec.* Moſt mighty *Caesar*, let me know ſome cauſe,

Let I be lauſt at when I tell them ſo.

*Caef.* The cauſe is in my will, I will not come,

That is enough to ſatſiſe the Senate.

But for your private ſatſiſſation,
Because I love you, I will let you know.
*Caſpurnia* here my wife, ſtaies me at home :
She dreaſt to night ſhe ſaw my Statue,
Which like a Fountain, with an hundred ſnoſts,
Did run pure bloud: and many luſtly *Romans*
Came ſmiling, and did bath their hinds in it :
And theſe does ſhe apply, for warnings and portents,
And evils imminent; and on her knee
Hath begg'd, that I will ſtay at home to day.

*Dec.* This dreaſn is all amſis interpreted,

It was a viſion, fair and fortunate:

Your Statue ſpouting bloud in many pipes,

In which ſo many ſmiling *Romans* bath'd,

Signifies that from you great *Rome* ſhall ſuck:

Reviving bloud, and that great men ſhall preſs

For Tinctures, Staines, Reliques, and Cogniſance.

This by *Calphurnia's* dream is ſignified.

*Caef.* And this way have you well expounded it.

*Dec.* I have, when you have heard what I can ſay,

And know it now, the Senate have concluded

To give this day a Crown to mighty *Caesar*.

If you ſhall ſend them word you will not come,

Their minds may change. Besides, it were a mock

Apt to be rendered, for ſome one to ſay,

Break up the Senate, till another time.

When *Caſars* wife ſhall meet with better DREAMES:

If *Caesar* hide himself, ſhall they not whiſper

Lo *Caesar* is aſſaɪd?

Pardon me *Caesar*, for my dear dear love

To your Proceeding bids me tell you this :

And reason to my love is liable.

*Caef.* How ſoſtill do your fears ſeem now *Calphurnia*?

I am aſnamed I did yield to them.

Give me my Robe, for I will go.

*Enter Brutus, Ligarius, Metellus. Caska, Tre-
bonius, Cinna, and Publius.*

And look where *Publius* is come to fetch me.

*Pub.* Good morrow *Caesar*.

*Caef.* Welcom *Publius*.

*What Brutus*, are you thir'd ſo early too?

Good morrow *Caska*, *Cainus* *Ligarius*.

*Caef.* was ne're so much your enemy,

As that fame Ague which hath made you lean.

*What is*, a *Clock*?

*Bru. Caſar, tis ſtrucken eight.*

*Caef.* I thank you for your paines and curſeſſe.

*Emer Antony.*

See *Antony*, that Revels long a-nights

Is notwithstanding up. Good morrow *Antony*.

*Ant.* So to moſt Noble *Caesar*.

*Caef.* Bid them prepare within:

I am to blame to be thus waited for.

*Now Cynna, now Metellus:* what *Trebonius*,

*I* have an houſes talk in ſlore for you :

Remember that you call on me to day :

Be near me, that I may remember you.

*Treb. Caſar, I will; and ſo near will I be,*

That your best Friends ſhall with I had been further.

*Caef.* Good Friends go in, and taſt ſome wine with me

And we (like Friends) will fit: rightway go together.

*Bru.* That every like is not the fame, O *Caesar*,

The heart of *Brutus* earnes to think upon.

*Enter Artemidorus.*

*Caſar, beware of Brutus. take heed of Caffius; come not*

Nnn 3

NEAR

["698", "The Tragedy of Julius Caesar.", "near Cæsca, have an eye to Cynna, trust not Trebonius, mark\nwell Metellus Cymber, Decius Brutus loves thee not: Thou\nhaft wrong'd Cæsus Ligarius. There is but one mind in all\nthefe men, and it is bent against! Cæsar: If thou beest not Im-\nmortal, look about you: Secarity gives way to Conspiracy. The\nmighty Gods defend thee.", "Thy Lover Artemidorus.", "Here will I stand, till *Caesar* pafs along,\nAnd as a Sutor will I give him this:", "My heart laments, that Vertue cannot live\nOut of the teeth of Emulation.", "If thou read this, O *Caesar*, thou maiest live ;\nIf not, the Fates with Traytors do contrive.", "Enter Portia and Lucius.", "Por. I prythee Boy, run to the Senate-houfe,\nStay not to anwer me, but get thee gone,\nWhy doft thou fly?\nLuc. I know my errand Madam.", "", "Por. I would have had thee there and here again\nEre I can tell thee what thou shouldst do there:\nO Conftancy, be strong upon my fide,\nSet a huge Mountain between my Heart and Tongue :", "I have a mans mind, but a womans might :", "How hard it is for women to keep counsel.\nArt thou here yet?", "", "Luc. Madam, what should I do ?", "Run to the Capitol, and nothing else ?", "And so return to you, and nothing else?", "Por. Yes, bring me word Boy, if thy Lord look well,", "For he went fickly forth : and take good note", "What *Caesar* doth, what Sutors prefs to him.", "Heark Boy, what noyef is that?", "Luc. I hear none Madam.", "Por. Prythee liften well :", "I heard a bufsling Rumour like a Fray,\nAnd the wind brings it from the Capitol.", "Luc. Sooth Madam, I hear nothing.", "Enter the Soothsayer.", "Por. Come hither Fellow, which way haft thou been ?", "Sooth. At mine own houfe, good Lady.", "Por. What is't a clock ?", "Sooth. About the ninth hour Lidy.", "Por. Is *Caesar* yet gone to the Capitol ?", "Sooth. Madam not yet, I go to take my stand,", "To fee him pafs on to the Capitol.", "Por. Thou haft home fute to *Caesar*, haft thou not?", "Sooth. That I have Lady, if it will pleafe *Caesar*", "To be fo good to *Caesar*, as to hear me:", "I fhall beefech him to befriend himfelf.", "Por. Why know't thou any harm's intended towards\nhim?", "Sooth. None that I know will be,", "Much that I fear may chance:", "Good morrow to you : here the Street is narrow :", "The throng that followes *Caesar* at the heeles,", "Of Senators, of Praxors, common Sutors,", "Will crowd a feeble man (almost) to death :", "He get me to a place more voyd, and there", "Speak to great *Caesar* as he comes along.", "Por. I muſt go in :", "Aye me! How weak a thing", "The heart of woman is ? O *Brutus*,", "The Heavens ſpeed thee in thine enterprize.", "Sure the Boy heard me : *Brutus* hath a ſuit", "That *Caesar* will not grant. O, I grow faint :", "Run *Lucius*, and commend me to my Lord,", "Say I am merry; Come to me again,\nAnd bring me word what he doth ſay to thee.", "## Actus Tertius.", "Flourish.", "Enter *Caesar*, *Brutus*, *Caſius*, *Caska*, *Decius*, *Metellus*, *Trebonius*, *Cymna*, *Antony*, *Lepidus*, *Artemisdors*, *Popilius*, and the Soothſayer.", "Caſ. The Ides of March are come.", "Sooth. I *Caesar*, but not gone.", "Art. Hail *Caesar*: read this Schedule.", "Dec. Trebonius doth defire you to ore-read", "(At your belt leifure) this his humble ſuit.", "Art. O *Caesar*, read mine firſt: for mine's a ſuit", "That touches *Caesar* nearer. Read it great *Caesar*.", "Caſ. What touches us our ſelf, ſhall be laſt ſerv'd.", "Art. Delay not *Caesar*, read it instantly.", "Caſ. What, is the fellow mad ?", "Pub. Sirra, give place.", "Caſ. What, urge you your Petitions in the Street ?", "Come to the Capitol.", "Pop. I with your Enterprize to day may thrive.", "Caſ. VVhat enterprize *Pepilius* ?", "Pop. Fare you well.", "Bru. What faid *Popilius Lena* ?", "Caſ. He wifht to day our enterprize might thrive :", "I fear our purpofe is discovered.", "Bru. Look how he makes to *Caesar*: mark him.", "Caſ. Caska be ſudden, for we fear prevention.", "*Brutus* what *haſt* be done ? If this be known,\n*Caſius* or *Caesar* never *haſt* turn back,", "For I will fly my ſelf.", "Bru. *Caſius* be conſtant :", "*Pepilius Lena* ſpeaks not of our purpofes.", "For look he ſmiles, and *Caesar* doth not change.", "Caſ. Trebonius knowes his time: for look you *Brutus*", "He drawes Mark Antony out of the vray.", "Dec. VVhere is *Metellius Cimber*, let him go,", "And preſently prefer his ſuit to *Caesar*.", "Bru. He is addreſt: preſs near, and ſecond him.", "Cin. Caska, you are the firſt that reares your hand.", "Caſ. Are we all ready? VVhat is novv amifs,", "That *Caesar* and his Senate muſt redrefs ?", "Meiſel. Moſt high, moſt moſtely, and moſt puſſant *Caſars*,\n*Metellus Cimber* throvvess before thy Seat", "An humble heart.", "Caſ. I muſt prevent thee *Cymber* :", "These couchings, and these lowly curſes", "Might fire the blood of ordinary men,", "And turn pre-Ordinance, and firſt Decree,", "Into the lane of Children. Be not fond,", "To think that *Caesar* beares ſuch Rebel blood", "That will be thaw'd from the true quality", "VWith that which melteth Fooles, I mean ſvveet words,\nLow-crooked curſes, and bafe Spaniel favvning :", "Thy Brother by decree is banifhed :", "If thou doſt bend, and pray, and favvn for him,\nI ſpurn thee like a Cur out of my vray :", "Knovv, *Caesar* doth not vvvrong, nor vvvithout cauſe\nVVill he be ſatisfied.", "Met. Is there no voyce more wvorthy then my ſown,", "To", "To", "For", "Brutus", "Delirious", "Have", "Caſar", "As", "loving", "To", "be", "Caſar", "If I", {"bbox":

The Tragedy of Julius Caesar.

699

To found more sweetly in great *Cæsars* ear,
For the repealing of my banish'd Brother ?

*Bru.* I kill thy hand, but not in flattery *Cæsar*:

Defining thee that *Publius Cimber* may

Have an immediate freedom of repeal.

*Cæf.* What *Brutus*?

*Cæf.* Pardon *Cæsar* pardon :

As low as to thy foot doth *Cassius* fall,
To begge infranchisement for *Publius Cimber*.

*Cæf.* I could be well mov'd, if I were as you,
If I could pray to move, Prayers would move me :
But I am contant as the Northern Starre,
Of whose true fixt, and refting quality,
There is no fellow in the firmament,
The Skies are painted with unnumbred sparks,
They are all fire, and every one doth shine :
But, there's but one in all doth hold his place.

So, in the world, 'tis furnished well with men,
And men are flesh and blood, and apprehensive ;
Yet in the number, I do know but one

That unafvillable holds on his rank,

Unfahk'd of motion : and that I am he,

Let me a little flow it, even in this :

That I was contant *Cimber* should be banish'd,
Adn contant do remain to keep him so.

*Cin.* O *Cæsar*.

*Cæf.* Hence: wilt thou lift up *Olympus* ?

*Dec.* Great *Cæsar*.

*Cæf.* Do not *Brutus* bootlesſe kneel ?

*Cæſ.* Speak hands for me.

They flab *Cæsar*.

*Cæf.* Et in *Brute*. — Then fall *Cæsar*.

*Cin.* Liberty, Freedom; Tyranny is dead,

Run hence, proclaim, cry it about the freets.

*Cæf.* Some to the common Pulpits, and cry out

Liberty, freedome, and Enfranchisement

*Bru.* People and Senators, be not affrighted :

Fly not, stand still, ambitions debt is paid.

*Cæſ.* Go to the Pulpit *Brutus*.

*Dec.* And *Cassius* too.

*Bru.* Where's *Publius*?

*Cin.* Here quite confounded with this mutiny.

*Met.* Stand fall together, left fome friend of *Cæsars*

Should chance —

*Bru.* Talk not of standing. *Publius* good cheer,

There is no harm intended to your perſon,

Nor to no *Roman* elfe: to tell them *Publius*.

*Cæf.* And leave us *Publius*, left that the people

Rushing on us, should do my ſome miſchief.

*Bru.* Do ſo, and let no man abide this deed,

But we the Doers.

Enter Trebonius.

*Cæf.* Where is *Antony*?

*Treb.* Fled to his house amaz'd,

Men, VVives, and Children, ſtare, cry out, and run,

As it were *Doomedday*.

*Bru.* Fates, we will know your pleafures:

That we ſhall die we know, tis but the time

And drawing daies out, that men ſtand upon.

*Cæſ.* VVhy he that cuts off twenty years of life,
Cuts off to many years of fearing death.

*Bru.* Grant that, and then is death a Benefit :

So are we *Cæsars* friends, that have abridg'd

His time of fearing death. Stoop *Romans*, *loops*,

And let us bathe our hands in *Cæsars* blood

Up to the Elbowes, and befear our Swords :

Then walk we forth even to the Market place,
And wavіug our red weapons o're our heads,
Let's all cry Peace, Freedom, and Liberty.

*Cæf.* Stoop then, and wath. How many Ages hence
Shall this our lofty Scene be acted over,

In States unborn, and Accents yet unknown ?

*Bru.* How many times shall *Cæsar* bleed in sport,
That now on *Pompey's* Bafis lies along,
No worchier then the duſt?

*Cæf.* So oft as that ſhall be,

So often shall the knot of us be call'd,

The men that gave their Countrey liberty.

*Dec.* What, shall we forch ?

*Cæf.* I, every man away.

*Brutus* shall lead, and we will grace his heels

With the mott boldeſt, and beſt hearts of Rome.

Enter a Servant.

*Bru.* Soft, who comes here ? a friend of *Antonies*.

*Ser.* Thus *Brutus*, did my Maſter bid me kneel ;

Thus did Mark Antony bid me fall down,

And being proſtrate, thus he bad me ſay,

*Brutus* is Noble, Wifc, Valiant, and Honeſt,

*Cæsar* was Mighty, Bold, Royal, and Loving :

*Suy, I love *Brutus*, and I honor him ;*

*Say, I fear'd *Cæsar*, honour'd him, and lov'd him.*

*If *Brutus* will vouchſafe, that Antony*

May safely come to him, and be reſolv'd

How *Cæsar* hath deferv'd to lie in death,

*Mark Antony* shall not love *Cæsar* dead

So well as *Brutus* living; but will follow

The Fortunes and Affairs of Noble *Brutus*,

Thorough the hazards of this untrod State,

With all true Faith. So faſes my Maſter *Antony*

*Bru.* Thy Maſter is a Wifc and Valiant *Roman*,

I never thought him worſe :

Tell him, to pſaſe him come unto this place

He ſhall be ſatisfied, and by my honour

Depart untouch'd.

*Ser.* Ile fetch him p[roſently].

Exit Servant.

*Bru.* I know that we ſhall have him well to Friend.

*Cæf.* I wifh we may : But yet have I a mind

That fears him much: and my miſgiving ſtill

Falls ſnrewdly to the purpose.

Enter Antony.

*Bru.* But here comes *Antony* :

Welcome Mark Antony.

*Ant.* O mighty *Cæsar* ! doſt thou lye ſo low ?

Are all thy Conqueſts, Glories, Triumphs, Spoils,

Shrunk to this little Meaſure ? Fare thee well.

I know not Gentlemen, what you intend,

Who eſſe muſt be let blood, who eſſe is rank :

*If I my ſelf, there is no hour ſo fit*

As *Cæsars* deaths hour; nor no inſtrument

Of half that worth, as thate your Swords; made rich

With the moſt Noble blood of all this world.

I do beſeech ye, if you bear me hard,

Now, whil't your purpleſed hands do reek and ſmoak

Fulſt your pleafure, Live a thouſand years,

I ſhall not find my ſelf ſo apt to die.

No place will p[le]aſe me ſo, no mean of death,

As here by *Cæsar*, and by you cut off,

The Choice and Maſter Spirits of this age.

*Bru.* O *Antony* ! Beg not your death of us :

Though now we muſt appear bloody and cruel,

As by our hands, and this our preſent Aſt

You fee we do : yet fee you but our hands,

And

700

The Tragedy of Julius Caesar.

And this, the bleeding buineſſe they have done :
Our hearts you feenor, they are pittful:
And pitty to the general wrong of Rome,
As fire drives out fire, so pitty, pitty,
Hath done this deed on *Caesar*. For your part,
To you, our Swords have leaden points *Mark Antony*;
Our Arms in ſtrength of malice, and our Hearts
Of Brothers temper, do receive you in,
With all kind love, good thoughts, and reverence.

*Caf.* Your voice shall be as strong as any mans,
In the diſpofing of new Dignities.

*Bru.* Onely be patient till we have appeas'd
The multiſtude, beſide themſelves with fear,
And then we will deliver you the caufe,
Why I, that did love *Caesar* when I ſtrook him,
Have thus proceeded.

*Ant.* I doubt not of your wifdom :
Let each man render me his bloody hand.
First *Marcus Brutus* will I ſhake with you ;
Next *Caius Caffius* do I take your hand ;
Now *Decius Brutus* yours, now yours *Metellus* ;
Yours *Cinna* ; and my valiant *Caska*, yours ;
Though laſt, not leaſt in love, yours good *Trebonius*,
Gentlemen all : alas, what ſhall I ſay,
My credit now stands on ſuch ſlippery ground,
That one of two bad waiſes you muſt conceit me,
Either a Coward, or a ſlutterer.

That I did love thee *Caesar*, O true:
If then thy Spirit look upon us now,
Shall it not grieve thee dearer then thy death,
To fee thy *Antony* making his peace,
Shaking the bloody fingers of thy foes?
Mott Noble in the preſence of thy Coarſe,
Had I as many eies, as thou haſt wounds,
Weeping as ſaſt as they ſtream forſt thy blood,
It would become me better, then to cloſe
In terms of friendſhip with thine enemies.
Pardon me *Julius*, here was't thou bay'd brave heart.
Here didt thou fall, and here thy Hunters ſtand
Sign'd in thy poſt, and Crim ſon'd in thy Lethe.
O world ! thou walt the Forreft to this *Hart*,
And this indeed, O world, the Hart of thee.
How like a Deer, ſtricken by many Princes,
Doſt thou here lye ?

*Caf. Mark Antony.*

*Ant.* Pardon me *Caius Caffius*:
The enemies of *Caesar*, ſhall ſay this :
Then, in a friend, it is cold Modesty.

*Caf.* I blame you not for praiſing *Caesar* ſo,
But what compaſt mean you to have with us?
Will you be prickt in number of our friends,
Or ſhall we on ; and not depend on you ?

*Ant.* Therefore I took your hands, but was indeed
Sway'd from the point, by looking down on *Caesar*.
Friends am I with you all, and love you all,
Upon this hope, that you ſhall give me Reaſons,
VWhy, and wherein *Caesar* was dangerous.

*Bru.* Or else were this a ſavage ſpectacle :
Our Reaſons are ſo full of good regard,
That were you *Antony* the Son of *Caesar*,
You ſhould be fatiſhed.

*Ant.* That's all I ſeeke,
And am moreover ſuitor that I may
Produce his body to the Market-place,
And in the Pulpit as becomes a friend,
Speak in the order of his Funeral.

*Bru. You ſhall Mark Antony.*

*Caf. Brutus, a word with you:*

You know not what you do ; do not conſent
That *Antony* ſpeak in his Funeral:
Know you how much the people may be mov'd
By that which he will utter.

*Bru.* By your pardon :

I will my ſelf into the Pulpit firſt,
And ſhow the reaſon of our *Caesar* death,
What *Antony* ſhall ſpeak, I will proteſt
He ſpeaks by leave, and by permiſſion :
And that we are contented *Caesar* ſhall
Have all true Rites, and lawful Ceremonies,
It ſhall advantage more, then do us wrong.

*Caf.* I know not what may fall, I like it not.

*Bru. Mark Antony, here take you *Caesar's* body :*

You ſhall not in your Funeral ſpeech blame us,
But ſpeak all good you can deſive of *Caesar*,
And ſay you doo't by our permiſſion :
Elſe ſhall you not have any hand at all
About his Funeral. And you ſhall ſpeak
In the fame Pulpit whereto I am going,
After my ſpeech is ended.

*Ant.* Be it so :

I do deſire no more.

*Bru.* Prepare the body then, and follow us. Exeunt.
*Manet Antony.*

O pardon me, thou bleeding piece of Earth:
That I am meek and gentle with these ſeſt Butchers.
Thou art the Ruines of the Nobleſt man
That ever lived in the Tide of Times.
Woe to the hand that ſhed this coſtly blood.
Over thy wounds, now do I propheſe,
(Which like dumb mouths do ope their ruby lips,
To beg the voice and utterance of my tongue)
A Curie ſhall light upon the limbs of men ;
Domestick ſury, and ſterce civil ſtrife,
Shall cumber all the parts of *Italy* :
Blood and deſtruction ſhall be ſo in uſe,
And dreadful objects ſo familiar,
That Mothers ſhall but ſmile, when they behold
Their Infants quartered with the hands of *Warre*:
All pitty choak'd with custom of ſell deeds,
And *Caesar* Spirit ranging for Revenge,
With *Ate* by his ſide, come hot from Hell,
Shall in these Confines, with a Monarks voice,
Cry haycock, and let ſlip the Dogs of *Warre*,
That this foul deed, ſhall ſmell above the earth
With Carrion men, groaning for burial.

*Enter Othavius's Servant.*

You ſerve Othavius *Caesar*, do you not ?

*Ser. I do Mark Antony.*

*Ant. Caſar did write for him to come to Rome.*

*Ser. He did receive his Letters, and is coming.*

And bid me ſay to you by word of mouth—

*O *Caesar* !*

*Ant.* Thy heart is big, get thee a-pare and weep :

Paffion I ſee is catching, for mine eies,
Seeing thofe Beads of ſorrow ſtand in thine,
Began to water. *Is thy Matter coming ?*

*Ser. He lies to night within ſeven Leagues of *Rome*.*

*Ant. Poſt back with ſpeed,*

And tell him what hath chanc'd :

Here is a mourning *Rome*, a dangerous *Rome*,
No *Rome* of safety for Othavius yet,
Hie hence, and tell him so. Yet ſtay a while,

Thou

The Tragedy of *Julius Caesar*.

701

Thou shalt not back, till I have born this Corse
Into the market place: There shall I try
In my Oration, how the people take
The cruel effusion of these bloody men,
According to the which, thou shall discourse
To young Octavius of the state of things.
Lend me your hand.

Exeunt.

Enter Brutus and goes into the Pulpit, and Caffis-
us with the Plebeians.

Ple. We will be satisfied : let us be satisfied.

Bru. Then follow me, and give me Audience friends.
Caffis go you into the other street,
And part the Numbers:
Thofe that will hear me ſpeak, let them ſtay here;
Thofe that will follow Caffins, goe with him,
And publike Reafons shall be rendred
Of Caffars death.

1 Ple. I will hear Brutus ſpeak.

2. I will hear Cæsars, and compare their Reafons,
When feverally we hear them rendred.

3. The Noble Brutus is ascended: Silence.

Bru. Be patient till the laft.

Romans, Countrey-men, and Lovers, hear me for my
caufe, and be filent, that you may hear. Beleeve me for
mine Honor, and have reſpect to mine Honor, that you
may beleeve. Cenſure me in your wifedome, and awake
your Senſes, that you may the better judge. If there be
any in this Asſembly, any deer friend of Caffars, to them
I lay, that Brutus love to Caſar, was no leſſe then his. If
then, that Friend demand, why Brutus roſe againſt Caſar,
this is my anſwer: Not that I lov'd Caſar leſſe, but
that I lov'd Rome more. Had you rather Caſar were li-
ving, and die all Slaves; then that Caſar were dead, to
live all Free-men ? As Caſar lov'd me, I weep for him;
as he was Fortunate, I rejoyle at it; as he was valiant, I
honour him: But, as he was Ambitious, I flew him. There
is Tears for his Love: Joy, for his Fortune: Honour, for
his Valour: and Death for his Ambition. Who is here
ſo bleſſe that would be a Bondman ? If any, ſpeak, for him
have I offended. Who is here ſo rude, that would not
be a Roman ? If any, ſpeak, for him have I offended. Who
is here ſo vile, that will not love his Countrey ? If any,
ſpeak, for him have I offended. I paſſe for a reply.

All. None Brutus, none.

Brutus. Then none have I offended. I have done no
more to Caſar then you shall do to Brutus: The Queſti-
on of his death, is inroll'd in the Capitoll: his Glory
not extenuated, wherein he was worthy; not his offen-
ces enforc'd, for which he ſuffered death.

Enter Mark Antony, with Cæsars bodies.

Here comes his body, mourn'd by Mark Antony, who
though he had no hand in his death, shall receive the be-
neſt of his dying, a place in the Common-wealth, as which
of you shall not. With this I depart, that as I flew my
beſt Lover for the good of Rome, I have the fame Dig-
ger for my ſelf, when it shall pleafe my Countrey to need
my Death.

All. Live Brutus, live, live.

1. Bring him with Triumph home unto his house.

2. Give him a Statue with his Anceſtors.

3. Let him be Caesar.

4. Cæsars better parts,

Shall be Crown'd in Brutus.

1. Wee'l bring him to his house,
With Shows and Clamions.

Bru. My Countrey-men.

2. Peace, filence, Brutus ſpeaks.

1. Peace ho.

Bru. Good Countrey-men, let me depart alone;
And (for my ſake) fly here with Antony:

Do grace to Caſars Corps, and grace his ſpeech
Tending to Caſars Glories, which Mark Antony
(By our permission) is allow'd to make.

I do inureat you, not a man depart.

Save I alone, till Antony have ſpoke. Exit.

1. Stray ho, and let us hear Mark Antony.

3. Let him go up into the publique Chair,

Wee'l hear him: Noble Antony go up.

Ant. For Brutus ſake I am beholding to you.

4. What does he ſay of Brutus !

3. He ſaies for Brutus ſake.

He finds himſelf beholding to us all.

4. 'Twere beſt ſpeak no harme of Brutus here?

1. This Caſar w'is a Tyrant.

3. Nay that's certain :

We are glad that Rome is rid of him,

2. Peace, let us hear what Antony can ſay.

Ant. You gentle Romans.

All. Peace hoe, let us hear him.

An. Friends, Remains, Countrey-men, lend me your ears:
I come to bury Caſar, not to praſe him :

The evil that men do, lives after them.

The good is oft entered with their bones,

So let it be with Caſar. The Noble Brutus,

Hath told you Caſar was Ambitious :

If it were ſo, it was a grievous fault,

And grievouſly hath Caſar anſwer'd it.

Here, under leave of Brutus, and the reſt,

(For Brutus is an honourable man,

So are they all, all Honourable men)

Come I to ſpeak in Caſars ſuneral.

He was my Friend, faithful, and juſt to me;

But Brutus faies, he was Ambitious,

And Brutus is an Honourable man.

He hath brought many Captives home to Rome,

Whose Ranſomes did the general Coffers fill:

Did this in Caſar ſem Ambitious?

When that the poor have cry'd, Caſar bath wept :

Ambition should be made of ſterner ſtuffe,

Yet Brutus faies, he was Ambitious :

You all did fee, that on the Lupercall,

I thrice prefented him a Kingly Crown,

Which he did thrice refufe. Was this Ambition ?

Yet Brutus faies he was Ambitious:

And fure he is and Honourable man.

I ſpeak not to diſprove what Brutus ſpoke,

But here I am to ſpeak what I do know ;

You all did love him once, not without cauſe,

What cauſe which holds you then, to mourn for him?

O Judgement ! thou art fled to brudhſ Beasts,

And Men have loft their Reſon. Bear with me,

My heart is in the Coffin there with Caſar.

And I muſt paſſe till it come back to me.

1. Methinks there is much reſon in his ſayings.
If thou confider rightely of the matter,

Caſar ha's had great wrong.

(his place.

3. Ha's he Mifters ? I fear there will a worſe come in

4. Mark'd.

["702", "The Tragedy of Julius Caesar.", "4. Mark'd ye his words ? he would not take the Crown,\nTherefore tis certain, he was not Ambitious.", "1. If it be found so, some will deer abide it.", "2. Poor foul, his eies are red as fire with weeping.", "3. There's not a Nobler man in Rome then Antony.", "4. Now mark him, he begins again to speak.", "Ant. But yesterday, the word of *Cæsar* might\nHave flood against the world: Now lies he there,", "And none so poor to do him reverence.", "O Masters! If I were disposed to flatter\nYour hearts and minds to mutiny and Rage,\nI should do Brutus wrong, and Cæsars wrong :", "Who (you all know) are Honourable men.", "I will not do them wrong: I rather choose\nTo wrong the dead, to wrong my self and you,\nThen I will wrong such Honourable men.", "But here's a Parchment, with the Seal of *Cæsar*,", "I found it in his Closet, this his Will :", "Let but the Commons hear this Teament :", "(Which pardon me) I do not mean to read,\nAnd they would goe and kiffie dead *Caſars* wounds,\nAnd dip their Napkins in his Sacred blood :", "Yea, beg a hair of him for Memory,\nAnd dying, mention it within their Wills,\nBequeathing it as a rich Legacy", "Unto their iftue.", "4. Wee'l hear the VVill, read it Mark Antony.", "All. The VVill, the VVill; we will hear *Caſars* Will.", "Ant. Have patience gentle Friends, I must not read it.\nIt is not meet you know how *Cæsar* lov'd you :", "You are not VVood, you are not Stones, but men :", "And being men, hearing the VVill of *Cæsar*,", "It will inflame you, it will make you mad ;", "Tis good you know not that you are his Heirs,", "For if you should, O what would come of it ?", "4. Read the VVill, wee'l hear it Antony :", "You shall read us the VVill, *Caſars* VVill.", "Ant. VVill you be Patient ? will you flay a while ?", "I have o're shot my self to tell you of it,", "I fear I wrong the Honourable men,", "Whose Daggers have ittab'd *Cæsar*; I do fear it.", "4. They were Traitors, Honourable men ?", "All. The VVill, the Teament.", "2. They were Villains, Murderers : the VVill, read the VVill.", "Ant. You will compelling me then to read the VVill ;", "Then make a Ring about the Corps of *Cæsar*,", "And let me shew you him that made the will:", "Shall I descend ? and will you give me leave?", "All. Come down.", "2. Descend.", "3. You shall have leave.", "4. A Ring, itand round.", "1. Stand from the Hearse, itand from the Body.", "2. Roome for Antony, moſt Noble Antony.", "Ant. Nay preſſe not to upon me, itand farre off.", "All. Stand back, room, bear back.", "Ant. If you have tears, prepare to shed them now.\nYou all do know this Mantle, I re.nember", "The first time ever *Cæsar* put it on,", "Twas on a Summers evening in his Tent,\nThat day he overcame the *Nervii*", "Look, in this place ran *Caſiſus* Dagger through :\nSee what a Rent the envious *Caska* made :", "Through this, the welbeloved Brutus itab'd", "And as he pluck'd his curſed Steel away.", "Mark how the blood of *Cæsar* followed it,\nAs rufhing out of doors, to be refolv'd", "If *Brutus* so unkindly knock'd, or no:", "For *Brutus* as you know, was *Caſars* Angel.", "Judge, O you Gods, how dearly *Cæsar* lov'd him :\nThis was the moſt unkindleſt cut of all.", "For when the Noble *Cæsar* saw him itab,\nIngratitude, more ſtrong then Traitors armes,\nQuite vanquifh'd him: then burst his Mighty heart,\nAnd in his Mantle, mufſling up his face,\nEven at the Bafe of *Pompey's* Statue", "(Which all the while ran blood) great *Cæsar* fell.", "O what a fall was there, my Countrey-men?", "Then I, and you, and all of us fell down,", "Whilft bloody Treaſon flourifh'd over us.", "O now you weep, and I perceive you feel.", "The dint of pitty : These are gracious drops.", "Kind Souls, what weep you, when you but behold", "Our *Caſar's* Veſture wounded ? Look you here,", "Here is Himſelf, marr'd as you ſee with Traitors.", "1. O pitroous ſpectacle!", "2. O Noble *Cæsar*!", "3. Owoſul day!", "4. O Traitors, Villains!", "1. O moſt bloody fight!", "2. We will be reveng'd: Revenge", "About, ſeek, burn, fire, kill, flay,", "Let not a Traitor live.", "Ant. Stay Countrey-men.", "1. Peace there, hear the Noble *Antony*.", "2. Wee'l hear him, wee'l follow him, wee'l dye with him.", "Ant. Good Friends, ſweet Friends, let me not ſirre", "To ſuch a ſuddain Flood of Mutiny :", "They that have done this Deed, are Honourable,", "What private griefs they have, alas I know not,", "That made them do it : They are wife and honourable,", "And will no doubt with reaſons anſwer you.", "I come not (Friends,) to ſteal away your hearts ;", "I am no Orator, as *Brutus* is ;", "But (as you know me all) a plain blunt man", "That love my friend, and that they know full well,", "That give me publick leave to ſpeak of him :", "For I have neither wit, nor words, nor worth,", "Action nor utterance, nor the power of ſpeech,", "To ſirre mens Blood. I only ſpeak right on :", "I tell you that, which you your ſelves do know,", "Shew you ſweet *Caſars* wounds, poor, poor dumb mouths", "And bid them ſpeak for me : But were I *Brutus*,", "And *Brutus* Antony, there were an *Antony*", "Would ruffle up your Spirits, and put a Tongue", "In every Wound of *Cæsar*, that should move", "The ſtones of *Rome* to rie and mutiny.", "All. Wee'l Mutiny.", "1. Wee'l burn the houſe of *Brutus*.", "3. Away then, come ſeek the Conſpirators.", "Ant. Yet hear me Countrey-men, yet hear me ſpeak.", "All. Peace hoe, hear *Antony*, moſt Noble *Antony*.", "Ant. Why Friends, you go to do you know not what.", "Wherein hath *Caſar* thus deferv'd your loves ?", "Alas you know not, I muſt tell you then :", "You have forgot the Will I told you of.", "All. Moſt true, the Will, let's ſtay and hear the Will.", "Ant. Here is the Will, and under *Caſars* Seal :", "To every Roman Citizen he gives,", "To every ſeveral man, ſeventy five Drachmaes.", "2. Ple.", "2 Ple.", "3 Ple.", "Ant.", {"bbox": [1082, 199, 1118, 21

The Tragedy of Fuleius Cæsar.

703

2 Ple. Moſt Noble Cæsar, wee'l revenge his death.

3 Ple. O Royal Cæsar.

Ant. Hear me with patience.

All. Peace hoa.

Ant. Moreover he hath left you all his Walkes,
His private Arbours, and new-planted Orchards.
On this fide Tyber, he hath left them you,
And to his heires for ever: common pleatures
To walk abroad, and recreate your felves.

Here was a Cæsar: when comes fuch another ?

1 Ple. Never, never : come, away, away :

Wee'l burn his body in the holy place,
And with the Brands fire all the Traytors houſes.
Take up the body.

2 Ple. Go fetch fire.

3 Ple. Pluck down Benches.

4 Ple. Pluck down Formes, Windowes, any thing.

Exeunt Plebeians.

Ant. Now let it work : Mifchier thou art a foot,
Take thou what courſe thou wilt.

How now Fellow ?

Enter Servant.

Ser. Sir, Oſtavius is already come to Rome.

Ant. Where is he ?

Ser. He and Lepidus are at Cæſars houſe.

Ant. And thither will I (straight, to vifit him :

He comes upon a wifh. Fortune is merry,
And in this mood will give us any thing.

Ser. I heard him ſay, Brutus and Caſiūs

Are rid like Madmen through the Gates of Rome.

Ant. Belike they had some notice of the people

How I had moved them. Bring me to Oſtavius. Exeunt.

Enter Cinna the Poet, and after him the Plebeians.

Cin. I dreamt to night, that I did feaſt with Cæſar,
And things unluckily charge my Fantafie :

I have no will to wander forth of doores,
Yet fomthing leads me forth.

1 VVhat is your name ?

2 VVhither are you going ?

3 VVhere do you dwelſel ?

4 Are you a married man, or a batchelor ?

2 Anſwering every man directly.

1 I, and briefly.

4 I, and wivfely.

3 I, and truly, you were beſt.

Cin. VVhat is my name ? VVhither am I going ? where
do I dwelſel ? am I a married man, or a batchelor ? Then
to anſwering every man directly and briefly, wivfely and
truly : wivfely I ſay, I am a batchelour.

2 That'sas much as to ſay, they are fooles that marry:
you'l bear me a bang for that I fear: Proceed directly.

Cin. Directly I am going to Cæſars Funeral.

1 As a Friend, or an Enemy ?

Cin. As a Friend.

2 That matter is anſwered directly.

4. For your dwelling : briefly.

Cin. Briefly, I dwell by the Capitol.

3 Your name fir, truly.

Cin. Truly my name is Cinna.

1 Tear him to pieces, he's a Conſpirator.

Cin. I am Cinna the Poet, I am Cinna the Poet.

4 Tear him for his bad Verſes ; tear him for his bad Verſes.

Cin. I am no Cinna the Conſpirator.

4 It is no matter, his name's Cinna, pluck but his name
out of his heart, and turn him going.

3 Tear him, tear him ; Come Brands hoe, Firebrands : to Bruus, to Caſiūs, burn all. Some to Deiūs houſes, and to me to Caska's, to me to Ligarius : Away, go.

Exeunt all the Plebeians.

Actus Quartus.

Enter Antony, Oſtavius, and Lepidus.

Ant. There are many then ſhall die, their names are prickt.

Oſ. Your Brother too muſt die : confent you Lepidus ?

Lep. I do confent.

Oſ. Pick him down Antony.

Lep. Upon condition Publius ſhall not live,
Who is your Sifters ſon, Mark Antony.

Ant. He ſhall not live : look, with a spot I dam him.

But Lepidus, go you to Cæſars houſe :

Fetch the Will hither, and we ſhall determine
How to cut off some charge in Legacies.

Lep. What ? ſhall I find you here ?

Oſ. Or here, or at the Capitol.

Exit Lepidus.

Ant. This is a flight unmeritable man,

Meet to be ſent on Errands : is it fit

The three-fold world divided, he ſhould ſtand

One of the three to ſhare it ?

Oſ. So you thought him

And took his voice who should be prickt to die
In our black Sentence and Proſcription.

Ant. Oſtavius, I have seen more daies then you ;

And though we lay theſe honours on this man,

To eafe our ſelves of divers ſland'rous lolds,

He ſhall but bear them, as the Aſs bears Gold,

To groan and fweat under the Bufineſs,

Either led or driven, as we print the way :

And having brought our treaſure, where we will,

Then take we down his load, and turn him off

(Like to the empty Aſs) to take his eares,

And gr ze in Commons.

Oſ. You may do your will :

But he's a tri'd, and volient Souldier.

Ant. So is my Horſe Oſtavius, and for that

I do appoint him flore of Provender.

It is a Creaſure that I teach to fight ;

To wind, to ſtop, to run directly on :

His corporal Motion, govern'd by my Spirit,

And in ſome taſt, is Lepidus but ſo :

He muſt be taught, and train'd, and bid go ſorth :

A barren ſpirited Fellow, one that feeds

On Objects, Arts, and Imitations.

Which out of uſe, and ita'l'd by other men

Begin his ſaſhion. Do not talk of him,

But as a property : and now Oſtavius,

Liſten great things. Brutus and Caſiūs

Are levying Powers ; We muſt ſtraight make head :

Therefore let our Alliance be combin'd,

Our belt Friends made, and our belt means ſtretcſt out,

And let us prefently go fit in Council,

How covert matters may be beſt diſcloſ'd,

And open Perils ſureſt anſwered.

Oſ. Let us do ſo : for we are at the ſtake,

And

["704", "The Tragedy of Julius Caesar.", "And bayed about with many Enemies,\nAnd some that smile have in their hearts I fear\nMillions of Mischiefes.", "Exeunt.", "Drum. Enter Brutus, Lucilius, and the Army. Titinius and Pindarus meet them.", "Bru. Stand ho.", "Luc. Give the word ho, and Stand.", "Bru. What now Lucilius, is Caffins near ?", "Luc. He is at hand, and Pindarus is come", "To do you falutation from his Maſter.", "Bru. He greets me well. Your Maſter Pindarus", "In his own change, or by ill Officers,", "Hath given me some worthy caufe to wifh", "Things done, undone : But if he be at hand\nI shall be satisfied.", "Pin. I do not doubt", "But that my Noble Maſter will appear", "Such as he is, full of regard, and Honour.", "Bru. He is not doubted. A word Lucilius,", "How he receiv'd you: let me be refolv'd.", "Luc. With curſeſe, and with reſpect enongh,", "But not with ſuch familiar inſtances,", "Nor with ſuch free and friendly Conference", "As he hath us'd of old.", "Bru. Thou haſt defcrib'd", "A hot friend, cooling: Ever note Lucilius,", "When Love begins to ſicken and decay", "It uſeth an enſforced Ceremony.", "There are no tricks in plain and ſimple Faith :", "B t hollow men, like Horſes hot at hand,", "Make gallant ſhow, and promife of their Mettle :", "Low March within.", "But when they should endure the bloody Spur,\nThey fall their Creſt, and like deceitful Jades", "Sink in the Trial. Comes his Army on ?", "Luc. They mean this night in Sardis to be quarter'd :", "The greater part, the Horſe in general", "Are come with Caffins.", "Enter Caffins, and his Powers.", "Bru. Heark, he is arriv'd :", "March gently on to meet him.", "Caf. Stand ho.", "Bru. Stand ho, ſpeak the word along.", "Stand.", "Stand.", "Stand.", "Caf. Moſt Noble Brother ; you have done me wrong.", "Bru. Judge me you Gods; wrong I mine Enemies ?", "And if not ſo, how should I wrong a Brother ?", "Caf. This ſober form of yours, hides wrongs,", "And when you do them—", "Bru. Caffins, be content,", "Speak your griefes ſoftly, I do know you well.", "Before the eyes of both our Armies here\n(Which ſhould perceive nothing but Love from us)", "Let us not wrangle. Bid them move away :", "Then in my Tent Caffins enlarge your Griefes", "And I will give you audience.", "Caf. Pindarus,", "Bid our Commanders lead their Charges off", "A little from this ground.", "Bru. Lucilius, do you the like, and let no man", "Come to our Tent; till we have done our Conference.", "Let Lucius and Titinius guard our door.", "Exeunt.", "Maxent Brutus and Caffins.", "Caf. That you have wrong'd me, doth appear in this", "You have condemn'd, and noted Lucius Pella", "For taking bribes here of the Sardians;", "Wherein my Letter, praying on his fide,", "Becaufe I knew the man, was ſlighted off.", "Bru. You wrong'd your ſelf to write in ſuch a cafe.", "Caf. In ſuch a time as this, it is not meet.", "That every nice offence should bear his Comment.", "Bru. Let me tell you Caffins, you your ſelf,", "Are much condemn'd to have an itching Palm,", "To ſell, and Mart your Offices for Gold", "To Undefervers.", "Caf. I, an itching Palm ?", "You know that you are Brutus that ſpeakes this,", "Or by the Gods, this ſpeech were eſſe your laſt.", "Bru. The name of Caffins honours this Corruption,", "And Chafitement doth therefore hide his head.", "Caf. Chafitement ?", "Bru. Remember March, the Ide of March remember :", "Did not great Julius bleed for Juitice ſake ?", "What Villain touch'd his body, that did tab,", "And not for Juitice ? What, I ſhall one of Us,", "That ſtuck the Formoft man of all this world,", "But for ſupporting Robbers : I ſhall we now,", "Contaminate our fingers, with bafe bribes ?", "And ſell the mighty ſpace of our large Honours", "For ſo much traſh, as may be graſped thus ?", "I had rather be a Dog, and bait the Moon,", "Then ſuch a Roman.", "Caf. Brutus, bait not me,", "Ile not endure it: you forget your ſelf,", "To hedge me in, I am a Souldier, I,", "Older in pradife, abler then your ſelf", "To make Conditions.", "Bru. Go to: you are not Caffins.", "Caf. I am.", "Bru. I ſay, you are not.", "Caf. Urge me no more, I ſhall forget my ſelf :", "Have mind upon your health: Tempt me no farther.", "Bru. Away flight man.", "Caf. Is't poffible ?", "Bru. Hear me, for I will ſpeak.", "Muſt I give way, and room to your rafh Choler ?", "Shall I be frighted, when a mad man ſtares ?", "Caf. O ye Gods, ye Gods, muſt I endure all this ?", "Bru. All this ? I more. Fret till your proud heart break,", "Go ſhow your Slaves how Cholerick you are,", "And make your Bondmen tremble. Muſt I boudge ?", "Muſt I obſerve you ? Muſt I ſtand and crouch", "Under your teſty humour ? By the Gods", "You ſhall digeſt the Venum of your ſpleen", "Though it do ſplit you. For from this day forth,", "Ile uſe you for my Mirth, yea for my Laughter,", "When you are wafpiſh.", "Caf. Is it come to this ?", "Bru. You ſay, you are a better Souldier :", "Let it appear ſo; make your vaunting true,", "And it ſhall plesſe me well. For mine own part,", "I ſhall be glad to learn of Noble men.", "Caf. You wrong me every way :", "You wrong me Brutus :", "I faid, an Elder Souldier, nor a Better.", {"bbox

["The Tragedy of Julius Caesar.", "705", "Caffi. I durst not.", "Bru. No.", "Caffi. What ? durst not tempt him ?", "Bru. For your life you durst not.", "Caffi. Don't presume too much upon my love,", "I may do that I shall be forry for.", "Bru. You have done that I should be forry for.\nThere is no terror Caffius in your threats.", "For I am arm'd so strong in honesty,", "That they pafle by me, as the idle wind,", "Which I respect not. I did fend to you", "For certain fummes of Gold, which you deny'd me,", "For I can raife no money by vile means :", "By heaven, I had rather coin my heart,", "And drop my blood for Drachmes, then to wring", "From the hard hands of Pe zints, their vile traffic", "By any indirection. I did fend.", "To you for Gold to pay my Legions,", "Which you deny'd me was that done like Caffius &", "Should I have anfuer'd Caffius Caffius fo ?", "When Marcus Brutus growes fo covetous,", "To locke fuch Rafcal Counters from his friends,", "Be ready gods with all your Thunder-bolts,", "Dath him to peeces.", "Caf. I deny'd you nor.", "Bru. You did.", "Caffi. I did not. He was but a Fool", "That brought my anfwer back. Brutus hath riv'd my heart", "A friend should bear his friends infirmities,", "But Brutus makes mine greater then they are.", "Bru. I do not, till you practice them on me.", "Caffi. You love me not.", "Bru. I do not like your faults.", "Caffi. A friendly eye could never fee fuch faults.", "Bru. A flatterers would not, though they do appear", "As huge as high Olympus.", "Caffi. Come Antony, and young Otfavius come,", "Revenge your felves alone on Caffius,", "For Caffins is a weary of the world:", "Hated by one he loves, brav'd by his brother,", "Check'd like a bondman, 'all his faults observ'd,", "Set in a Note-book, learn'd, and con'd by roat", "To caft into my Teeth. O I could weep", "My Spirit from mine eies : There is my Dagger,", "And here my naked Breast : Within a heart", "Deerer then Plut's Mine : Richer then Gold :", "If that thou beft a Roman, take it forth.", "I that deny'd thee Gold, will give my heart :", "Strike as thou didst at Caſar, for I know,", "When thou didst hate him worth, thou lovedt him better", "Then ever thou lovedt Caffius.", "Bru. Sheath your Daguer :", "Be angry when you will, it shall have scope,", "Do what you will, difhonour, shall be humour,", "O Caffius, you are yoaked with a Lamb", "That carries anger as the Flint bears fire,", "Who much inforced, shews a haffy spark,", "And frait is cold agen.", "Caffi. Hath Caffius liv'd", "To be but Mirth and Laughter to his Brutus,", "When grief and blood ill temper'd, vexeth him ?", "Bru. When I poke that, I was ill-temper'd too!", "Caffi. Do you confefle so much? Give me your hand.", "Bru. And my heart too.", "Caffi. O Brutus!", "Bru. What's the matter ?", "Caffi. Have not you love enough to hear with me,\nWhen that rafh humour which my Mother gave me\nMakes me forgetful ?", "Bru. Yes Caffius and from henceforth", "When you are over-earneft with your Brutus,", "Hee I think your Mother chides, and leave you so.", "Enter a Poet.", "Po. Let me goin to fee the Generals,", "There is some grudge between em, tis not meet", "They be alone.", "Luci. You shall not come to them.", "Poet. Nothing but death shall fly me.", "Caffi. How now ? What's the matter ?", "Poet. For thame you Generals ? what do you mean ?", "Love, and be friends, as two such men should be,", "For I have feen more years Ime fure then ye.", "Caffi. Ha, ha, how wildly doth this Cynick rhime :", "Bru. Get you hence firrah : Sawcy fellow, hence.", "Caffi. Bear with him Brutus, tis his fashion.", "Bru. Ile know his humour, when he knows his time :", "What fhou should the Warres do with these jigging fools?", "Companion, hence.", "Caffi. Away, away be gone.", "Exit Poet.", "Bru. Lucillius and Titinius bid the Commanders\nPrepare to lodge their Companies to night.", "Caffi. And come your felves, and bring Meſſala with you\nImmediately to us", "Bru. Lucius, a bowl of Wine.", "Caffi. I did not think you could have been so angry.", "Bru. O Caffius, I am fiek of many griefs.", "Caffi. Of your Philofophy you make no uſe,", "If you give place to accidental evils.", "Bru. No man bears forrow better. Portia is dead.", "Caffi. Ha? Portia?", "Bru. She is dead.", "Caffi. How ſcap'd I killing, when I croft you so ?", "O infupportable, and touching loffe !", "Upon what fickneſſe ?", "Bru. Impatient of my abſence.", "And grief, that young Oſtavius with Mark Antony,", "Have made themfelves fo ſtrong : For with her death", "That tydings came. With this the fell diftraet,", "And (her Attendants abſent) ſwallow'd fire.", "Caffi. And dy'd so ?", "Bru. Even so.", "Caffi. O ye immortal Gods !", "Enter Boy with wine, and Tapers.", "Bru. Speak no more of her: Give me a bowle of wine", "In this I bury all unkindneſſe Caffius.", "Drinks.", "Caffi. My heart is thirty for that Noble pledge,", "Fill Lucius, till the Wine ore ſwell the Cup :", "I cannot drink too much of Brutus love.", "Enter Titinius, and Messala.", "Bru. Come in Titinius :", "Welcome good Messala :", "Now fit we cloſe about this Taper here,", "And call in queſtion our neceſſities.", "Caffi. Portia, art thou gone ?", "Bru. No more I pray you.", "Messala, I have here received Letters,", "That young Oſtavius, and Mark Antony", "Come down upon us with a mighty power,", {"bbox": [480, 1311, 755, 1331], "category

["The Tragedy of Fulinus Cæsar.", "Meff. My self have Letters of the selfe fame tenure.", "Bru. With what Addition.", "Meff. That by proſcription, and bills of Outlary,\nOſtavius, Anony, and Lepidus,", "Have put to death an hundred Senators.", "Bru. Therein our Letters do not well agree:\nMine ſpeak of fevenity Senators, that dy'd\nBy their proſcriptions, Cicero being one.", "Cafsi. Cicero one?", "Meff. Cicero is dead, and by that order of proſcription.", "Had you your Letters from your wife my Lord?", "Bru. No Messala.", "Meff. Nor nothing in you Letters writ of her?", "Bru. Nothing Messala.", "Meff. That me thinks is ſtrange.", "Bru. Why aske you?", "Hear you ought of her, in yours?", "Meff. No my Lord.", "Bru. Now as you are a Roman tell me true.", "Meff. Then like a Roman, bear the truth I tell,\nFor certain ſhe is dead, and by ſtrange manner.", "Bru. Why farewell Portia: we muſt die Messala:\nWith meditating that ſhe muſt die once,\nI have the patience to endure it now.", "", "", "Meff. Even ſo great men, great loſſes should endure.", "Cafsi. I have as much of this in Art as you,", "But yet my Nature could not bear it ſo.", "Bru. Well, to our work alive. VVhat do you think", "Of marching to Philippi prefentely.", "Cafsi. I do not think it good.", "Bru. Your reaſon ?", "Cafsi. This it is:", "Tis better that the enemy ſeek us", "So ſhall he wafe his means, weary his Souldiers,", "Doing himſelf offence, whilſt we lying ſill,", "Are full of reſt, defence, and nimbleneſſe.", "Bru. Good reaſons muſt of force give place to better:\nThe people 'twixt Philippi, and this ground", "Do ſland but in a ſorc'd affection:", "For they have gruſ'd us Contribution.", "The Enemy, marching along by them,", "By them ſhall make a fuller number up,", "Come on reſrefht, new added, and encourag'd;", "From which advantage ſhall we cut him off.", "If at Philippi we do face him there,", "Theſe people at our back.", "Cafsi. Hear me good brother.", "Bru. Under your pardon. You muſt note beſide,\nThat we have try'd the utmoſt of our friends:\nOur Legions are brim full, our cauſe is ripe,", "The Enemy encreaſeth every day,", "We at the height, are ready to decline.", "There is a Tide in the affairs of men,", "Which taken at the Flood, leads on to Fortune:", "Omitted, all the voyage of their life,", "Is bound in Shallowes, and in Miferies.", "On ſuch a full Sea, are we now a-ſloat,", "And we muſt take the current when it ſerves,", "Or loſſe our ventures.", "Cafsi. Tnen with your will go on: we'll along\nOur ſelves, and meet them at Philippi.", "Bru. The deep of night is crept upon our talk,\nAnd Nature muſt obey. Neceſſity,\nWhich we will niggard with a little reſt:\nThere is no more to ſay.", "", "Cafsi. No more, good night,", "Early, to morrow will we rife, and hence.", "Enter Lucius.", "Bru. Lucius my Gown: farewell good Messala,\nGood night Titinius: Noble, Noble Caffins,\nGood night, and good repofe.", "Cafsi. O my deer brother:", "This was an ill beginning of the night:", "Never come ſuch division tween our ſouls:", "Let it not Brutus.", "Enter Lucius with the Gown.", "Bru. Every thing is well.", "Cafsi. Good night my Lord.", "Bru. Good night good brother.", "Tit. Messa. Good night Lord Brutus.", "Bru. Farewell every one.", "Exeunt.", "Give me the Gown. Where is thy inſtrument?", "Luc. Here in the Tent.", "Bru. What thou ſpeak'st drowſily?", "Poor knave I bluſe thee, thou art ore-watch'd.", "Call Clandio, and ſome other of my men,", "Ile have them ſleep on Cuffions in my Tent.", "Luc. Varrus and Clandio.", "Enter Varrus and Clandio.", "Var. Calls my Lord?", "Bru. I pray you ſirs, lie in my Tent and ſleep,\nIt may be I ſhall raſe you by and by\nOn buſineſſe to my brother Caffins.", "Var. So pleafe you, we will ſtand,\nAnd watch your pleaſure.", "Bru. I will not have it ſo: lie down good ſirs,\nI may be I ſhall otherwife behinſt me.\nLook Lucius, here's the book I fought for so:\nI put it in the pocket of my Gown.", "Luc. It was ſure your Lordſhip did not give it me.", "Bru. Bear with me good boy, I am much forgetful.\nCanſt thou hold up thy inſtrument a ſtrain or two.\nAnd touch thy heavy eies a while.", "Luc. I my Lord an't pleafe you.", "Bru. It does my Boy;", "I trouble thee too much, but thou art willing.", "Luc. It is my duty Sir.", "Bru. I ſhouſt not urge thy duty paff thy might,\nI know young bloods look for a time of reſt.", "Luc. I have flept my Lord already.", "Bru. It was well done, and thou ſhalt ſleep again:\nI will not hold thee long. If I do live,\nI will be good to thee.", "Mufick and a Song.", "This is a ſleepy Tune: O murderous ſlumber!\nLayeth thou thy Leaden Mace upon my boy,", "That plaies thy Mufick ? Gentle knave good night:", "I will not do thee ſo much wrong to wake thee:", "If thou doſt nod, thou break't thy inſtrument,", "Ile take it from thee, and (good boy) good night.", "Let me fee, let me fee? is not the Leaf turn'd down\nWhere I left reading ? Here it is I think.", "Enter the Ghoſt of Cæsar.", "How ill this Taper burns. Ha! Who comes here?\nI think it is the weakneſſe of mine eies", "That ſhapes this monſtrous Apparition.", "It comes upon me: Art thou any thing?", "Art thou ſome God, ſome Angell, or ſome Devil,\nThat mak't my blood cold, and my hair to ſtare?", "Speak to me, what thou art.", "Ghoſt. Thy evil Spirit Brutus.", "Bru. Why com't thou?", "Ghoſt.", "Ghoſt. To\nBru. Wt\nGhoſt. I,\nBru. Wh\nNow I ha\nIll Spirit,\nBoy, Luc\nClaudio.\nLucius. Th\nBru. He\nLucius, av\nBru. Dic\nou?", "", "", "", "", "", "", "", "", "", "", {"bbox": [1064, 6

["708", "The Tragedy of Fulius Caesar.", "Who to Philippi here conforted us :\nThis Morning are they fled away, and gone,\nAnd in their heads, do Ravens, Crowes and Kites.\nFly ore our heads, and downward look on us\nAs we were sickly prey ; their shadowes seem\nA Canopy most fatal, under which\nOur Army lies, ready to give up the Ghoft.", "Meffa. Believe not so.", "Cafsi. I but believe it partly,", "For I am fresh of spirit, and revolv'd", "To meet all peril, very constantly.", "Bru. Even so Lucillius.", "Cafsi. Now moft Noble Brutus,", "The gods to day fland friendly, that we may", "Lovers in peace, lead on our dayes to age.", "But since the affaires of men reft still incertain,", "Lets reason with the worft that may befal.", "If we do lofe this Battel, then is this", "The very laft time we shall speak together :", "What are you then determined to do ?", "Bru. Even by the rule of that Philosophy,", "By which I did blame Cato, for the death", "Which he did give himself, I know not how :", "But I do find it Cowardly, and vile,", "For fear of what might fall, so to prevent", "The time of life, arming my self with patience,", "To pay the providence of some high Powers,", "That govern us below.", "Cafsi. Then if we lofe this Battel,", "You are contented to be led in triumph", "Through the streets of Rome.", "Bru. No Caffius, no :", "Think not thou Noble Roman,", "That ever Brutus will go bound to Rome", "He bears too great a mind, But this same day", "Malt end that work, that Ides of March begun.", "And whether we shall meet again, I know not :", "Therefore our everlasing farewel take :", "For ever, and for ever, farewel Caffius,", "If we do meet again, why we shall smile :", "If not, why then this parting was well made.", "Cafsi. For ever, and for ever, farewel Brutus :", "If we do meet again, weel smile indeed ;", "If not, 'tis true, this parting was well made.", "Bru. Why then lead on. O that a man might know", "The end of this dies bufinefs, ere it come :", "But it fufficeth, that the day will end,", "And then the end is known. Come ho, away.", "Exeunt.", "Alarums.", "Enter Brutus and Messala.", "Bru. Ride, ride Messala, ride and give theſe Bils\nUnto the Legions, on the other fide.", "Lowd Alarums.", "Let them fet on at once : for I perceive", "But cold demeanour in Oclavio's wing :", "And fudden puſh gives them the overthrow :", "Ride, ride Messala, let them all come down.", "Exeunt.", "Alarums.", "Enter Caffius and Titinius.", "Cafsi. O look Titinius, look, the Villaines fly :", "My ſelf have to mine own turn'd Enemy :", "This Enſign here of mine was turning back,", "I flew the Coward, and did take it from him.", "Titin. O Caffius, B. was gave the word too early,", "Who having ſome advantage on Oclavius", "Took it too eagerly : his Souldiers fell to ſpoyl,", "VVhilft we by Antony are all inclos'd.", "Enter Pindarus.", "Pind. Fly further off my Lord : fly further off,", "Mark Antony is in your Tents my Lord :", "Fly therefore Noble Caffius, fly fir off.", "Cafsi. This hill is far enough, Look, look Titinius.", "Are those my Tents where I perceive the fire ?", "Tit. They are, my Lord.", "Cafsi. Titinius, if thou loveſt me,", "Mount thou my horſe, and hide thy ſprurs in him,", "Till he have brought thee up to yonder Troops", "And here again, that I may feel aflur'd", "VVwhether yond Troops, are Friend or Enemy.", "Tit. I will be here again, even with a thought !", "Exit.", "Cafsi. Go Pindarus, get thither on that hill,", "My fight was ever thick : regard Titinius,", "And tell me what thou not ſt about the field !", "This day I breath'd firſt, time is come round,", "And where I did begin, there ſhall I end,", "My life is run his compaſs. Sirra, what newes ?", "Pind. Above, O my Lord.", "Cafsi. VVhat newes ?", "Pind. Titinius is enclosed round about", "VVith horſemen, that make to him on the Spur,", "Yet he ſprurs on. Now they are almost on him :", "Now Titinius, Now ſome ſlight : O he lights too.", "He's tane.", "Shout.", "And hark, they ſhout for joy.", "Cafsi. Come down, behold no more :", "O Coward that I am, to live ſo long,", "To fee my beſt friend tane before my ſace !", "Enter Pindarus.", "Come hither firrah ; In Parthis did I take thee Prifoner,", "And then I w fore thee, faving of thy life,", "That whatsoever I did bid thee do,", "Thou shouldſt attempt it. Come now, keep thine oath,", "Now be a Freeman, and with this good Sword", "That ran through Caſars bowels, ſearch this boſom.", "Stand not to anſuer : Here, take thou the Hilts,", "And when my face is cover'd, as tis novv,", "Guide thou the Svvord— Caſar thou art reveng'd,", "Even with the Svvord that kill'd thee.", "Kils him.", "Pin. So, I am free,", "Yet vvould not ſo have been", "Durfst I have done my vwill. O Caffius,", "Far from this Contry Pindarus ſhall run,", "VVhere never Roman ſhall take note of him.", "Enter Titinius, and Messala.", "Meffa. It is but change, Titinius : for Oclavius", "Is overhrovvn by Noble Brutus povver,", "As Caffius Legions are by Antony.", "Titin. Theſe ridings vwill vwell comfort Caffius.", "Meffa. VWhere did you leave him ?", "Titin. All diſconſolate,", "VVith Pindarus his Bondman, on this hill.", "Meffa. Is not that he that lies upon the ground ?", "Titin. He lies not like the Living, O my heart !", "Meffa. Is not that he ?", "Titin. No, this vvas he, Messala,", {"bbox": [6

["The Tragedy of Julius Caesar.", "709", "So in his red blood *Cafsins* day it fet.", "The Son of *Rome* is fet. Our day is gone,\nClowds, Dewes, and Dangers come; our deeds are done:\nMiftruft of my fucceſſe hath done this deed.", "*Meffa.* Miftruft of good ſucceſſe hath done this deed.", "*O hatefull Error, Melancholies Child:*", "*V*hy doſt thou ſhew to the apt thoughts of men\nThe things that are not ? O Error ſoon conceiv'd,\nThou never com't unto a happy birth,\nBut kill it the Mother that engendred thee.", "*Tit.* V What *Pindarus* ? V Where art thou *Pindarus* ?", "*Meffa.* Seek him Titinius: whilft I go to meet", "The Noble *Brutus*, thruffling this report", "Into his ears; I may ſay, thruffling it:", "For piercing Steel, and Darts invenomed", "Shall be as welcome to the ears of *Brutus*,", "As tydings of this fight.", "*Tit.* Hye you *Meffala*,", "And I will seek for *Pindarus* the while:", "V Vay didſt thou ſend me forth brave *Cafsins*?", "Did I not meet thy friends, and did not they", "Put on my brows this wreath of Victory,", "And bid me give it thee? Didſt thou not hear their", "Alas, thou haſt misconftrued every thing.", "(howſte?)", "But hold thee, take this Garland on thy Brow,", "Thy *Brutus* bid me give it thee, and I", "V Vail do his bidding. *Brutus*, come apace,", "And fee how I regarded *Cains* *Cafsins*:", "By your leave gods: This is a Romins part,", "Come *Cafsins* Sword, and find Titinius heart.", "Dyes.", "*Alarum.* Enter *Brutus*, *Meffala*, young *Cato*,\n*Strato*, *Volumnius*, and *Lucilius*.", "*Bru.* V Where, where *Meffala*, doth his body lie ?", "*Meffa.* Loe yonder, and Titinius mourning it.", "*Bru.* Titinius ſace is upward.", "*Cato.* He is ſlain.", "*Bru.* O Julius *Caſar* thou art mighty yet,", "Thy Spirit walkes abroad, and turns our Swords", "In our own proper Entrails.", "Low *Alarums*.", "*Cato.* Brave Titinius,", "Look where he have not Crowd dead *Cafsins*.", "*Bru.* Are yet two Romans living ſuch as theſe?", "The laſt of all the Romans, fare thee well :", "It is impoffible, that ever *Rome*", "Should breed thy fellow: friends I owe moe tears", "To this dead man, then you ſhall fee me pay.", "I ſhall find time, *Cafsins*: I ſhall find time.", "Come therefore, and to *Tharſus* ſend his body,", "His funerals ſhall not be in our Camp,", "Leaſt it diſconſort us. *Lucilius* come,", "And come young *Cato*, let us to the field,", "*Labio* and *Flavius* ſet our Battails on :", "Tis three a clock, and *Romans* yet ere night,", "V VVe ſhall try fortune in a ſecond fight.", "Exeunt.", "*Alarum.* Enter *Brutus*, *Meffala*, *Cato*, *Lucilius*,\n*and Flavius*.", "*Bru.* Yet Countreymen: O yet, hold up your heads.", "*Cato.* V What Baſtard doth not? who will goe with me ?", "I will proclaim my name about the field.", "I am the Sonne of *Marcus Cato*, hoe.", "A Foe to Tyrants, and my Countreys friend.", "I am the Sonne of *Marcus Cato*, hoe.", "*Enter Souldiers and fight.*", "And I am *Brutus*, *Marcus Brutus*, I.", "*Brutus* my Countries friend: know me for *Brutus*.", "*Luc.* O young and Noble *Cato*, art thou down?", "Why now thou dyeſt, as bravely as Titinius,", "And may't be honour'd being *Cato's* Son.", "*Sold.* Yield, or thou dyeſt.", "*Luc.* Onely I yield to die :", "There is ſo much, that thou wilt kill me straight", "Kill *Brutus*, and be honour'd in his death", "*Sold.* We muſt not : a Noble Prifoner.", "*Enter Antony.*", "*2 Sold.* *Rooome* hoe: tell Antony, *Brutus* is tane.", "*1 Sold.* Ile tell thee news, here comes the General,", "*Brutus* is tane, *Brutus* is tane my Lord.", "*Ant.* Where is he ?", "*Luc.* Safe Antony, *Brutus* is ſafe enough :", "I dare aſſure thee, that no enemy", "Shall ever take alive the Noble *Brutus*:", "The gods defend him from ſo great a ſhame,", "When you do find him or alive, or dead,", "He will be found like *Brutus*, like himſelf.", "*Ant.* This is not *Brutus* friend, but I aſſure you,", "A prize no leſſe in worth: keep this man ſafe,", "Give him all kindneſſe. I had rather have", "Such men my friends, then enemies. Go on,", "And ſee where *Brutus* be alive or dead,", "And bring us, unto *Octavius* Tent,", "How every thing is chanc'd.", "Exeunt.", "*Enter Brutus, Dardanius, Clitus, Sirato,*\n*and Volumnius.*", "*Bru.* Come poor remains of friends, reſt on this\nRock.", "*Clit.* Statilius ſhew'd the Torch-light, but my Lord\nHe came not back, he is or tane, or ſlain.", "*Bru.* Sit thee down, Clitus: ſtaying is the word,", "It is a deed in ſashion. Harke thee, Clitus.", "*Clit.* What I, my Lord? No, not for all the world.", "*Bru.* Peace t'en, no words.", "*Clit.* Ile rather kill my ſelf.", "*Bru.* Hark thee, Dardanius", "*Dard.* Shall I do ſuch a deed ?", "*Clit.* O Dardanius.", "*Dar.* O Clitus.", "*Clit.* What ill requeſt did *Brutus* make to thee ?", "*Dar.* To kill him, Clitus: look he meditates.", "*Clit.* Now is that Noble Veffel full of grief,", "That it runs over even at his eies.", "*Bru.* Come hither, good *Volumnius*, lift a word.", "*Volum.* What faſes my Lord?", "*Bru.* Why this, *Volumnius*:", "The Ghoſt of *Caſar* hath appear'd to me", "Two ſeveral times by night: at *Sardis*, once;", "And this laſt night, here in *Philippi*-fields :", "I know my hour is come.", "*Volum.* Not ſo, my Lord.", "*Bru.* Nay, I am ſure it is, *Volumnius*.", "Thou feel'd the world, *Volumnius*, how it goes,", "Our enemies have beat us to the Pit :", "Low *Alarums*.", "It is more worthy, to leap in our ſelves,", {"bbox": [484, 1245, 777, 1267], "category": "Text",

710

The Tragedy of Julius Cæsar.

Cli. Fly, fly my Lord, there is no carrying here.
Bru. Farewell to you, and you, and you Voluminſ.

Strato, thou haſt been all this while asleep:
Farewell to thee, to Strato, Countreymen :

My heart doth joy, that yet all my life,
I found no man, but he was true to me.

I'll have glory by this loofing day

More then Oſtavius and Mark Antony,
By this vile Conqueſt ſhall attain unto.

So fare you well at once, for Brutus tongue

Hath almost ended his lives Hiftory :

Night hangs upon mine eies, my bones would reſt,
That have but labour'd, to attain this hour.

Alarum. Cry within. Fly, flye, flye.

Cli. Flye my Lord, flye :

Bru. Hence: I will follow :

I prethee Strato, fly thou by thy Lord,

Thou art a fellow of a good reſpect :

Thy life hath had ſome ſmatch of honour in it.

Hold then my Sword, and turn away thy face,

While I. do run upon it. Wilt thou Strato ?

Strat. Give me your hand first. Fare you well my Lord.

Bru. Farewell good Strato. — Cæsar, now be still,

I kill'd not thee with half so good a will. Dyes.

Alarum. Retreat. Enter Antony, Oſtavius, Meſſala,
Lucillius, and the Army.

Oſt. What man is that ?

Meſſa. My Maſters man. Strato, where is thy Maſter?

Stra. Free from the bondage you are in Meſſala,

The Conquerors can but make a fire of him :

For Brutus onely overcame himſelf,

And no man elle hath honor by his death.

Luci. So Brutus should be found. I thank thee Brutus
That thou haſt prov'd Lucillius ſaying true.

Oſt. All that ſerv'd Brutus I will entertain them,
Fellow, wilt thou below thy time with me ?

Stra. I, if Meſſala will preferre me to you.

Oſt. Do so, good Meſſala.

Meſſa. How dyed my Lord, Strato ?

Stra. I held the Sword, and he did run on it.

Meſſa. Oſtavius, then take him to follow thee,
That did the latest ſervice to my Maſter.

Ant. This was the Nobleft Roman of them all :
All the Conspirators ſave onely he,

Did that they did, in envy of great Cæsar :

He, onely in a general honest thought,

And common good to all, made one of them.

His life was gentle, and the Elements

So mixt in him, that Nature might ſtand up,

And ſay to all the world; This was a man.

Oſt. According to his Vertue, let us use him
With all reſpect, and rites of Burial.

Within my Tent his bones to night ſhall lye,
Moſt like a Souldier ordered honorably :

So call the field to reſt, and let's away,

To part the glories of this happy day.

Exeunt omnes.

F I N I S.

The Tragedy of Macbeth.

712

King. No more that Thane of Cawdor shall deceive
Our bofom intereft: Go pronounce his prefent death,
And with his former Title great Macbeth.

Rose. Ile see it done.

King. What he hath loft, noble Macbeth hath won.

Exeunt.

## Scena Tertia.

Thunder.

Enter the three Witches.

1 Where haft thou been, Sifter ?

2 Killing Swine.

3 Sifter, where thou ?

1 A Saylors wife had Cheftnuts in her Lap,
And mouncht, and mouncht, and mouncht:
Give me, quoth I.

Anoynt thee, Witch, the Rump-fed Ronyon cries.

Her husband's to *Aleppo* gone, Mifter oth* Tiger :

But in a Syve Ile thither fayle,

And like a Rat without a rayl,

Ile do, Ile do, and Ile do.

2 Ile give thee a wind.

1 Th'art kind.

3 And I another.

1 I my self have all the other,
And the very Ports they blow,
All the quarriers that they know.

Ith' Shipmans Card.

I'le drain him dry as Hay :

Sleep shall neither night nor day

Hang upon his Pent-houfe Lid :

He shall live a man forbid :

Weary Seu'nights, nine times nine,
Shall he dwindle, peak, and pine :

Though his Ratz cannot be loft,
Yet it shall be Tempeſt-toſt.

Look what I have.

2 Shew me, ſhew me.

1 Here I have a Pilots Thumb,
Wrackt, as homeward he did come.

Drum within.

3 A Drum, a Drum :
Macbeth doth come.

All. The weyward Sifters, hand in hand,
Poſters of the Sea and Land.

Thus do go, about, about,
Thrice to thine, and thrice to mine,
And thrice again, to make up nine.

Peace, the Charm's wound up.

### Enter Macbeth and Banquo.

Mach. So foul and fair a day I have not seen.

Banq. How far is't call'd to *Soris* ? What are theſe,
So wither'd, and ſo wild in their attire,

That look not like th'inhabitants oth' Earth,
And yet are on't ? Live you, or are you aught

That man may queſtion ? you ſeem to underſand me,
By each at once her choppy finger lying

Upon her skinny Lips: you ſhould be Women,
And yet your Beards forbid me to interpret

That you are ſo.

Mac. Speak if you can : what are you ?

1 All hail Macbeth, hail to thee Thane of *Glamis*.

2 All hail Macbeth, hail to thee Thane of *Cawdor*.

3 All hail Macbeth, that ſhalt be King hereafter.

Bang. Good fir, why do you ſtart, and ſeem to fear

Things that do found ſo fair ? i'th name of truth
Are ye finтаſtical, or that indeed

Which outwardly ye ſhew ? Ny Noble Partner

You greet with prefent Grace, and great prediction

Of Noble having, and of Royal hope,
That he ſeems wrapt withal 3 to me you ſpeak not.

If you can look into the Seeds of Time,
And ſay, which Grain will grov, and which will nor,
Speak then to me, who neither beg, nor fear

Your favours, nor your hate.

1 Hayl.

2 Hayl.

3 Hayl.

1 Leſſer then Macbeth, and greater.

2 Not ſo happy, yet much happier.

3 Thou ſhalt get Kings, though thou be none :

So all hail Macbeth, and *Banquo*.

1 *Banquo*, and Macbeth, all hail.

Mach. Stay you imperfect Speakers, tell me more:
By Sinels death, I know I am *Thane of *Glamis*,

But how of *Cawdor* ? the *Thane of *Cawdor* lives

A profuſer Gentleman : And to be King,

Stands not within the proſpect of belief,

No more then to be *Cawdor*. Say from whence

You owe this ſtrange intelligence, or why

Upon this blafped heath you ſtop our way

With ſuch Prophetique greeting ?

Speak, I charge you.

Banq. The earth hath bubbles, as the water has,

And theſe are of them : whither are they vanifh'd ?

Mach. Into the Ayr: and what ſeem'd corporal,
Melted, as breath into the wind.

Would they had ſtaid.

Banq. Were ſuch things here, as we do ſpeak about ?

Or have we eaten on the infane Root,

That takes the Reafon Prifioner ?

Mach. Your Children ſhall be Kings.

Banq. You ſhall be King.

Mach. And *Thane of *Cawdor* too : went it not ſo ?

Bang. Toth' ſelf-fame tune, and words : who's here ?

### Enter Roffe, and Angus.

Roff. The King hath happily receiv'd, Macbeth,
The news of thy ſucceſs : and when he reads

Thy perſonal Venture in the Rebels fight,

His wonders and his Praifes do contend,

Which ſhould be thine, or his: ſitenc'd with that,

In viewing o're the reft o'th' ſelf-fame day,

He finds thee in the ſlout Norweyan Rankes,

Nothing aſeard of what thy ſelf didſt make

Straige Images of death, as thick as tale

Can poſt with poſt, and every one did bear

Thy praifes in his Kingdomes great defence,

And powr'd them down before him.

Ang. V.Ve are ſent,

To give thee from our Royal Marſter thankes,

Only to herrald thee into his fight,

Not pay thee,

Roffe. And for an earneſt of a greater honour,
He bad me, from him, call thee *Thane of *Cawdor* :

In

714

The Tragedy of Macbeth.

For in my way it lies. Starts hide your fires,
Let not light fee my black and deep defies:
The eye wink at the hand: yet let that be,
Which the eie fears, when it is done to fee.

Exit.

King. True, worthy Banquo: he is full so valiant,
And in his commendations, I am fed:
It is a Banquet to me, Lets after him,
Whole care is gone before, to bid us welcome:
It is a peerleffe kinfman.

Exeunt.

## Scena Quinta.

Enter Macbeth's wife alone with a Letter.

Lady, They met me in the day of successe: and I have learn'd
by the perfect lift report, they have more in them, then mortal
knowledge. When I burnt in desire to question them further,
they made themselves Air. into which they vanis'd. While I
food rapt in the wonder of it, came Missives from the King,
who all hail'd me Thane of Cawdor, by which Title before,
these weyward Sifters saluted me, and refred' me to the com-
ing on of time, with hail King that shall be. This have I
thoughe good to deliver thee (my dearest partner of greatneffe)
that thou might'st not lose the dues of rejoycing by being ignorant
of what Greatneffe is promis'd thee. Lay it to thy heart, and
farewell.

Glamis thou art, and Cawdor, and shall be
What thou art promis'd: yet do I fear thy Nature,
It is too full o' th' Milk of humane kindneſſe,
To catch the neerest way. Thou wouldſt be great,
Art not without ambition: but without
The illneſſe should attend it. What thou wouldſt highly,
That wouldſt thou holily: wouldſt not play false,
And yet wouldſt wrongly winne.
Thouldſt have, great *Glamis*, that which cries,
Thus thou muſt do if thou have it;
And that which rather thou doſt fear to do,
Then wifheſt should be undone. High thee hither,
That I may powre my Spirits in thine ear,
And chafſiſe with the valour of my tongue
All that thee hinders from the Golden Round,
Which Fate and Metaphysical aid doth seem
To have thee crown'd withall.
What is your tidings?

Enter Messenſter.

Mess. The King comes here to night,

Lady. Thou'rt mad to ſay it.

Is not thy Mather with him ? who, were't so,

Would have inform'd for preparation.

Mess. So please you, it is true : our *Thane* is coming
One of my fellows had the speed of him;
Who almost dead for breath, had fearably more
Then would make up his Meflage.

Lady. Give him tending,

He brings great news.

Exit Messenſter.

The Raven himself is hoarſe,

That croakes the fatall entrance of Duncane

Under my Battlements. Come you Spirits,
That tend on mortal thoughts, unfex me here,

And fill me from the Crown to the Toe, top-full
Of direſt Cruelty : make thick my blood,
Stop up th'acceſſe and paſſage to Remorſe,
That no compunctious viftings of Nature

Shake my fell purpofe, nor keep peace between
Th' effect, and it. Come to my Womans Breſſs,
And take my Milk for Gall, you Murth'ring Minifters,
VWhere-ever in your fightleſſe subſtances,

You wait on Natures Mifchief. Come thick Night,
And pall thee in the dunneſſ fmoak of hell,
That my keen knife fee not the wound it makes,
Nor heaven peep through the Blanket of the dark,

To cry, hold, hold.

Enter Macbeth.

Great *Glamis*, worthy Cawdor,

Greater then both, by the all-hail hereafter,

Thy Letters have tranſported me beyond

This ignorant preſent, and I feel now

The future in the inſtant.

Macb. My deareſt Love,

Duncane comes here to night.

Lady. And when goes hence ?

Macb. To morrow, as he purpofes.

Lady. Onever,

Shall Sunne that morrow fee.

Your Face, my *Thane* is as a book, where men

May read ſtrange matters to beguile the time.

Look like the time, bear welcome in your eye,

Your hand, your tongue: look like the innocent flower,

But be the Serpent under't. He that's coming,

Muſt be provided for: and you muſt put

This Nights great buſineſſe into my diſpatch,

VWhich muſt to all our Nights and Daies to come,

Give solely Soveraign ſway and Maſterdom.

Macb. VVere will I ſpeak further.

Lady. Onely look up cleer :

To alter favour ever is to fear :

Leave all the reſt to me.

Exeunt

## Scena Sexta.

Hoboyes, and Torches. Enter King, Malcolm, Donalbain.

Banquo, Lenox, Macduff, Roffe, Angus,
and Attendants.

King. This Caſſle hath a pleafant ſeat,

The air nimbly and sweetly recommends it ſelf
Unto our gentle ſences.

Banqu. This Gued of Summer,

The Temple-haunting Barlet does approve,

By his loved Manſonry, that the Heavens breath,

Smells wooingly here: no Jutty frieze,

Buttrice, nor Coigne of Vantage, but this Bird

Hath made his pendant bed, and procreant Cradle,

VWhere they muſt breed, and haunt : I have obſerv'd

The air is delicate,

Enter Lady.

King. See, see, our honor'd Hoftefleſſe:

The love that follows us, sometime is our trouble,
VWhich still we thank as Love. Herein I teach you,
How you shall bid god-eyld us for your pains,
And thank us for your trouble.

Lady. All our ſervice,

In every point twice done, and then done double,

VVere poor, and ſingle Buſineſſe, to contend

Againſt thate honors deep, and broad,

VVherewith your Maſeſty loads our houſe :

For thate of old, and the late Dignities,

Heap'd up to them, we reſt your Hermits.

King.

The Tragedy of Macbeth.

715

King. VWhere's the Thane of Cawdor ?
VWe court him at the heeles, and had a purpote
To be his Purveyor : But he rides vvell,
And his great Love (sharp as his Spur) hath holl him
To his home before us : Fair and Noble Hottels
VWe are your guest to night.
Lady. Your Servants ever,
Have theirs, themfelves, and what is theirs in compt,
To make their Audit at your highneſs pleasure,
Still to return your ovn.

King. Give me your hand :
Conduct me to mine Hott, vve love him highly,
And ſhall continue, our Graces towards him.
By your leave Hottels.
Exeunt.

## Scena Septima.

Ho boyes. Torches.
Enter a Sewer, and divers Servants with Dishes and Service over the Stage. Then enter Macbeth.
Macb. If it were done, vwhere it was done, then it were vvell,
It were done quickly: if the Affaffination

Could trammel up the Conſeqüence, and catch
With his ſurceafe, Succeſs: that but this blow
Might be the be all, and the end all. Here,
But here, upon this Bank and School of time,
We'd jump the life to come. But in these Cafes,
We fill have judgment here, that we but teach
Bloudy inſtructions, which being taught, return
To plague ch'ingredience of our poyſon'd Challice
To our own lips. He's here in double truſt ;
First, as I am his Kinfman, and his Subjeſt,
Strong both against the Deed : then, as his Hoft,
Who should againſt his Murderer ſhot the door,
Not bear the knife my ſelf. Befides this Duncane
Hath born this Faculty ſo meek : hath been
So clear in his great Office, that his Vertues
Will plead like Angels, Trumpe-tongu'd against
The deep damnation of his taking off:
And Pity, like a naked new-born-babe,
Striding the blast, or heavens Cherubin, hors'd
Upon the fightleſsCURRIORS of the Ayr,
Shall blow the horrid deed in every eye,
That tears shall drown the wind. I have no Spur
To prick the fides of my intent, but only
Vaulting Ambition, which ore-leapes it ſelf,
And fails on th'other.

Enter Lady.
How now ? What Newes ?
La. He has a lmoſt ſuppt why have you left the chamber ?
Mac. Hath he ask'd for me ?
Lady. Know you not, he has ?
Mac. We will proceed no further in this Bufineſs :
He hath honour'd me of late, and I have bought
Golden Opinions from all forts of people,
Which would be worn now in their neweſt gloſs,
Not caſt anſide ſo ſoon.
Lady. Was the hope drunk,

Wherein you dreſt your ſelf? hath it flept ſince ?
And wakes it now to look ſo green and pale ?
At what it did ſo freely? From this time,
Such I account thy love. Art thou affearr'd
To be the fame in thine own Aſt, and Valour,
As thou art in desire ? Would it thou have that

Which thou eſteem'it the Ornament of Life,
And live a Coward in thine own eſteem ?
Letting I dare not, wait upon I would;
Like the poor Cat i'th'Addage?

Macb. Prethee peace :
I dare do. alſt that may become a man,
Who dares do more, is none.

Lady. What beaſt was't then
That made you break this Enterprize to me ?
When you durſt do it, then you were a man :
And to be more then what you were, you would
Be ſo much more the man. Nor time, nor place
Did then adhere, and yet you would make both :
They have made themſelves, and that their ſicneſs now
Do's unmake you. I have given Suck, and know
How tender'tis to love the Babe that milkes me,
I would, while it was ſmiling in my face,
Have pluckt my Nipple from his boneſſe Gummes,
And daſſt the Braines out, had I but ſo ſworn
As you have done to this.

Macb. If we eſould fail ?
Lady. We fail ?
But ſcrew your courage to the ſicking place,
And we'l not fail: when Duncan is aſſeep,
(Whereto the rather ſhall his daies hard Journey
Soundly invite him) his two Chamberlaines
Will I with wine, and waffel, ſo convince,
That Memory, the warder of the Brain,
Shall be a Fume, and the Receit of Reaſon
A Lymbeck only, when in ſvinſh ſleep,
Their drenched Natures lie as in a Death,
What cannot you and I performe upon
Th'unguarded Duncan? What not put upon
His ſpungy Officers ? who ſhall bear the guilt
Of our great quell.

Macb. Bring forth Men-Children only :
For thy undaunted Mettle ſhould compoſe
Nothing but Males. VVill it not be receiv'd,
VWhere we have mark'd with bloud that ſleepy two
Of his own Chamber, and us'd their very Daggers,
That they have don't ?

Lady. VVho dares receive it other,
As we ſhall make our Griefes and Clamor rore,
Upon his Death ?

Macb. I am ſetled, and bend up
Each corporal Agent to this terrible Fear,
Away, and mock the time with faireſt ſhow,
False Face must hide what the false heart doth know.

Exeunt.

## Actus Secundus. Scena Prima.

Enter Banquo, and Fleance, with a Torch before hims.

Banq. How goes the Night, Boy ?
Fleance. The Moon is down: I have not heard the
Clock.

Banq. And the goes down at Tvvelve?
Flean. I tak't, this later, Sir.
Banq. Hold, take my Svord :
There's Husbandry in Heaven,
Their Candles are all out: take thee that too.

A

714

The Tragedy of Macbeth.

A heavy Summons lies like Lead upon me,
And yet I would not fleep:
Merciful Powers, retrain in me the curfed thoughts
That Nature gives way to in repofe.

Enter Macbeth, and a Servant with a Torch.

Give me my Sword: who's there ?

Mach. A friend.

Bang. What Sir, not yet at reft ? the King's a bed,
He hath been in unufual pleasure.

And fent forth a great Larges to your Offices.

This Diamond he greets your Wife withal,
By the name of moft kind Hofteſs,

And flut it up in meaſureleſs content.

Mach. Being unprepar'd,

Our will became the ſervant to defect,

Which eſſe should free have wrought.

Bang. All's well.

I dreamt left night of the three weyward Sifters:
To you they have ſhew'd ſome truth.

Mach. I think not of them :

Yet when we can entreat an hour to ſerve,

We would ſpend it in ſome words upon that Bufneſs,
If you would grant the time.

Ban. At your kind leifure.

Mach. If you ſhall cleave to my conſent ,
When *tis, it ſhall make honour for you.

Bang. So I lose none,

In feeking to augment it, but ſill keep

My boſom franchise'd, and Allegiance clear,

I ſhall be counſell'd.

Mach. Good repofe the while.

Bang. Thankes Sir: the like to you. Exit Banquo.

Mach. Go bid thy Miftrefſs, when my drink is ready

She ſtrike upon the Bell. Get thes to bed. Exit.

Is this a dagger, which I fee before me,

The handle toward my hand ? Come, let me clutch thee!

I have thee not, and yet I fee thee ſtill,

Art thou not fatal Vifon, ſentible

To feeling, as to fight ? or art thou but

A Dagger of the Mind, a false Creation,

Proceeding from the heat-oppreffed Brain ?

I fee thee yet, in form as palpable,

As this which now I draw.

Thou marſhalt me the way that I was going,

And ſuch an inſtrument I was to uſe.

Mine eyes are made the fooles o'th' other Senſes,

Or eſſe worth all the reſt : I fee thee ſtill ;

And on thy blade, and Dadgeon, Gouts of bloud,
Which was not ſo before. There's no ſuch thing :

It is the bloody Bufneſs, which inſormes

Thus to mine eyes. Now ore the one half world

Nature ſeemes dead, and wicked Dreams abufe

The Curtain'd ſleep: Witchcraft celebrates

Pale Heccates Offerings : and wither'd Murther,

Alarum'd by his Centinel, the wolfe,

Whofe howl's his watch, thus with his ſealthy pace,

VVith Tarquins ravilſing fides, towards his delign

Moves like a Ghost. Thou fowr and firm-fer Earth

Hear not my ſteps, which they may walk, for fear

Thy very ſlones prae of my where-about,

And take the preſent horror from the time,

VVhich now ſutes with it. VVhiles I threat, he lives :

VWords to the heat of deeds too cold breath gives,

A Bell rings.

I go, and it is done: the bell invites me.

Hear it not, Duncane, for it is a Knell,

That ſummons thee to heaven, or to hell.

Exit.

## Scæna Secunda.

Enter Lady.

La: That which hath made them drunk, hath made me
VWhat hath quench'd them, hath given me fire. (bold)
Heark, peace : it was the Owl that Thieick'd,
The fatal Bell-man, which gives the ſtern a good-night,
He is about it, the Doores are open :

And the furſered Groomes do mock their charge

VVith Snores. I have drugg'd their Poffers,

That death and Nature do contend about them,

VVhether they live, or die.

Enter Macbeth.

Mach. What's there ? what hoa ?

Lady. Alack, I am afraid they have awak'd,

And 'tis not done : th'atrempr, and not the deed,

Confounds us : heark : I laid their Daggers ready,

He could not mifs em. Had he not reſembled

My father as he flepr, I had don't.

My Husband ?

Mach. I have done the deed :

Didſt thou not hear a noyſe ?

Lady. I heard the Owl ſchream, and the Crickets cry.

Did not you ſpeak ?

Mach. VWhen ?

Lady. Now.

Mach. As I defcended ?

Lady. I,

Mach. Heark, who lies i'th'efcond Chamber ?

Lady. Donalbaine.

Mach. This is a forry fight.

Lady. A fooliſh thought, to ſay a forry fight.

Mach. There's one did laugh in's ſleep,

And one cry'd Murder, that they did wake each other :

I ſlood, and heard them : but they did ſay their Prayers,

And addreſt them again to ſleep.

Lady. There are two lodg'd together.

Mach. One cry'd God bleſs us, and Amen the other,

As they had ſeen me with theſe hangmans hands :

Lifthning their fear, I could not ſay Amen,

VWhen they did ſay God bleſs us.

Lady. Conſider it not so deeply.

Mach. But wherefore could not I pronounce Amen ?

I had moſt need of bleſſing, and Amen ſuck in my throat.

Lady. Theſe deeds muſt not be thought

After theſe waies: ſo, it will make us mad.

Mach. Me thought I heard a voyce cry, ſleep no more :

Macbeth does murder ſleep, the innocent ſleep,

Sleep that knits up the ravel'd Sleeve of Care,

The death of each daies Life, ſore Labours Bath,

Balm of hurt minds, great Natures ſecond Courfe,

Chief nourisher in lifes ſeaſ.

Lady. VWhat do you mean ?

Mach. Still it cry'd, ſleep no more to all the houſe :

Glamis hath murther'd ſleep, and therefore Caudor

Shall ſleep no more : Macbeth ſhall ſleep no more.

Lad. VVho was it, that thus cry'd ? why worthy Thane,
You do unbend your Noble ſtrength, to think

So brain-fickly of things : Go, get ſome water,

And

The Tragedy of Macbeth.

715

And wash this filthy witneſs from your Hand,
Why did you bring theſe Daggers from the place ?
They muſt lye there: go carry them, and ſmear
The ſleepy Groomes with cloud.
Macb. I'le go no more

Macb. I'le go no more
I am afraid, to think what I have done :
Look on't again, I dare not.

Lady. Infirm of purpofe:
Give me the Daggers: the ſleeping, and the dead,
Are but as Pictures: 'tis the Eye of Child-hood,
That fears a painted Devil. If he do bleed,
I'le gild the Faces of the Groomes withall,
For it muſt seem their Guilt.

Exit.

Knock within.

Macb. Whence is that knocking ?
How is't with me, when every noife appalls me ?
What Hands are here ? hah : they pluck out mine Eyes.
Will all great Neptune's Ocean wash this cloud
Clean from my Hand ? no : this my Hand will rather
The multitudinous Seas incarnardine,
Making the Green one; Red.

Enter Lady.

Lady. My hands are of your colour: but I ſhame
To wear a heart fo white.
Knock.

I hear a knocking at the South entry :
Retire we to our Chamber :

A little Water cleares us of this deed.
How eafe is it then? your Conſtancy
Hath left you unattended,

Heark, more knocking.

Knock.

Get on your Night-Gown, left occafion call us,
And ſhew us to be Watchers: be not loft
So poorly in your thoughts.

Macb. To know my deed,
'Twere beſt not know my ſelf.

Knock.

Wake Duncan with thy knocking :
I would thou could'ſt.

Exeunt.

## Scena Tertia.

Enter a Porter.

Knocking within.

Porter. Here's a knocking indeed: if a man were
Porter of Hell Gate, he should have old turning the
Key. Knock, Knock, Knock. Who's there
i'chname of Belzebub ? Here's a a Farmer, that hang'd
himſelf on th'expectation of Plenty: Come in time, have
Napkins enough about you, here you'll ſweat for't. Knock.
Knock, Knock, Who's there in th'other Devil's Namé ?
Faith here's an Equivocator, that could ſwear in both
the Scales, againſt either Scale, who committed Treason
enough for God's ſake, yet could not equivocate to Hea-
ven: oh come in, Equivocator.
Knock, Knock,
Knock, Knock. Who's there ? Faith here's an English
Taylor come hither, for ſtealing out of a French Hoge:
Come in Taylor, here you may roſt your Goofe. Knočk.
Knock, Knock, Never at quiet: What are you ? but this
place is too cold for Heil. I'le Devil-Porter it no further:
I had thought to have let in ſome of all proſeffions, that
go the Primroſe-way to th'everlaſting Bonfire. Knock.
Anon, anon, I pray you remember the Porter.

Enter Macduff, and Lenox.

Macd. Was it ſo late, friend, ere you went to bed,
That you do lye ſo late ?

Port. Faith Sir, we were carouſing till the ſecond Cock:
And Drink, Sir, is a great provoker of three things.

Macd. What three things does Drink especially pro-
voke ?

Port. Marry, Sir, Noſe-painting, Sleep, and Urine.
Lechery, Sir, it provokes, and unprovokes: It Provokes
the defire, but it takes away the performance. Therefore
much Drink may be ſaid to be an Equivocator with Le-
chery: it makes him and it marres him; it ſets him on,
and it takes him off; it perſwades him, and diſheartens
him; makes him ſtand to, and not ſtand to: in conclu-
fion, equivocates him in a ſleep, and giving him the Lye,
leaves him.

Maed. I believe, Drink gave thee the Lye laſt Night.
Port. That it did, Sir, i' the very Throat on me: but I
requited him for his Lye, and (I think) being too ſtrong
for him, though he took up my Legges ſometime, yet I
made a Shift to caſt him.

Enter Macbeth.

Macd. Is thy Maſter ſtirring ?

Our knocking has awak'd him: here he comes.

Lenox. Good morrow, Noble Sir.

Macb. Good morrow both.

Macd. Is the King ſtirring, worthy Thane ?

Macb. Not yet.

Macd. He did command me to call timely on him,
I have almoſt ſlipt the hour.

Macb. I'le bring you to him.

Maed. I know this is a joyſull trouble to you :
But yet 'tis one.

Macb. The labour we delight in, Phyſick's pain :
This is the Door.

Macd. I'le make ſo bold to call, for 'tis my limited
ſervice.
Exit Macduffe.

Lenox. Goes the King hence to day.

Macb. He does: he did appoint ſo.

Lenox. The Night has been unruly:
Where we lay, our Chimneys were blown down.
And (as they ſay) lamentings heard i'th'Air;
Strange Schreems of Death,
And Propheſying, with Accents terrible,
Of dire combustion, and confus'd Events,
New hatch'd to th'wofull time.

The obscure Bird clamor'd the live-long Night,
Some ſay, the Earth was ſeaverous,
And did ſake.

Macb. 'Twas a rough Night.

Lenox. My young remembrance cannot parallel
A fellow to it.

Enter Macduff.

Macd. O horrour, horrour, horrour !
Tongue nor Heart cannot conceive, nor name thee,

Mach. and Lenox. What's the matter ?

Macd. Conſuſion now hath made his Maſter-piece:
Moft sacrilegious Murther hath broke ope
The Lord's annoſted Temple, and ſtole thence
The Life o'th' Building.

Macb. What is't you ſay ? the Life ?

Lenox. Mean you his Maſjeſty ?

Macb: Approach the Chamber, and deftroy your fight
With a new Gorgon. Do not bid me speak :

P p p

See,

The Tragedy of Macbeth.

716

See, and then speak your felyes : awake, awake,
Exeunt Macbeth and Lenox.

Ring the Alarum-Bell : Murther, and Treafon,
Banquo, and Donalbaine : Malcolmme awake,
Shake off this Downy sleep, Death's counterfeit,
And look on Death it self : up, up, and fee
The great Doom's Image : Malcolmme, Banquo,
As from your Graves rife up, and walk like Sprights,
To countenance this horror. Ring the Bell.

Bell rings, Enter Lady.

Lady. What's the buſineſs?
That ſuch a hideous trumpet calls to parley
The ſleepers of the Houſe ? ſpeak, ſpeak.

Mach. O gentle Lady,
?Tis not for you to hear what I can ſpeak :
The repetition in a Woman's ear,
Would murther as it fell.

Enter Banquo.

O Banquo, Banquo, Our Royal Maſter's murther'd,
Lady. VVoe, alas !

What, in our houſe ?

Ban. Too cruel, any where,
Dear Duff, I prythee contract thy ſelf,
And ſay, it is not ſo.

Enter Macbeth, Lenox, and Roffe.

Mach. Had I but dy'd an hour before this chance,
I had liv'd a bleſſed time : for from this inſtant,
There's nothing ſeious in Mortality :
All is but toyes : Renown and Grace is dead,
The Wine of Life is drawn, and the meere Lees
Is left this Vault to brag of.

Enter Malcolmme, and Donalbaine.

Donal. What is amifs ?

Mach. You are, and do not know't :
The Spring, the Head, the Fountain of your Bloud
Is ſtopt; the very Source of it is ſtopt.

Mach. Your Royal Father's murther'd.

Mal. Oh, by whom ?

Lenox. Thoſe of his Chamber, as it ſeem'd, had don't:
Their Hands and Faces were all badg'd with bloud,
So were their Daggers, which unwip'd, we found
Upon their Pillows : they ſtar'd, and were diſtraſted,
No man's life was to be truſted with them.

Mach. O, yet I do repent me of my ſury,
That I did kill them.

Mach. VVherefore did you ſo ?

Mach. Who can be wife, amaz'd, temp'rate, & furious,
Loyal, and Neutral, in a moment ? No man :
Th'expedition of my violent Love
Out-run the patifer, Reafon. Here lay Duncan,
His filver skin, lac'd with his Golden Bloud,
And his gath'd Stabs, look'd like a Breach in Nature,
For Ruines waſtfull entrance : there the Murtherers,
Steep'd in the Colours of their Trade ; their Daggers
Unmannerly breech'd with gore : who could refrain,
That had a heart to love, and in that heart,
Courage, to make's love known ?

Lady. Help me hence, hoa.

Mach. Look to the Lady.

Mal. Why do we hold our tongues,

That moſt may claim this argument for ours?

Donal. What should be ſpoken here,

VWhere our Fate hid within an angër-hole,
May rufh, and zeſe us ? Let's away,
Our tears are not yet brew'd.

Mal. Nor our ſtrong Sorrow
Upon the foot of Motion,

Banq. Look to the Lady :
And when we have our naked Frailties hid,
That ſuffer in expofure ; let us meet,
And queſtion this moſt bloudy piece of work,
To know it further. Feares and ſcruples ſhake us:
In the great Hand of God I ſtand, and thence,
Againſt the un-divulg'd pretence I fight
Of treaſonous Malice.

Mach. And ſo do I,

All. So all.

Mach. Let's briefly put on manly readineſs,
And meet i'th'Hall together,

All. Well contented. Exeunt.

Malc. VVhat will you do ?

Let's not conſort with them :

To ſhow an unſelt Sorrow, is an Office
Which the falſe man do's eafie.

I'le to England.

Don. To Ireland, I:

Our ſeparated fortune ſhall keep us both the ſafer :
Where we are, there's Daggers in mens Smiles :
The near in bloudy, the nearer bloudy.

Malc. This murtherous ſhaft that's ſnot,
Hath not yet lighted : and our ſaſet way,
Is to avoid the amie. Therefore to houſe,
And let us not be dainty of leave-taking,
But ſhift away : there's warrant in that Theft
VVhich ſteals it ſelf, when there's no mercy left.

Exeunt.

## Scena Quarta.

Enter Roffe, with an Old man.

Old man. Threeſcore and ten I can remember well,
VWithin the volume of which time, I have ſeen
Houſes dreadfull, and things ſtrange : but this fore Night
Hath trifled former knowings.

Roffe. Ha, good Father,
Thou ſeet the heavens, as troubled with man's Aſt,
Threatens his bloudy Stage : by th'Clock 'tis Day,
And yet dark Night ſtrangles the travelling Lamp :
Is't Night's predominance, or the Day's flame,
That Darkneſs do's the face of Earth intombe,
VVhen living Light should kifs it ?

Old man. 'Tis unnatural,
Even like the deed that's done : on Tuesday laſt,
A Faulcon towring in her pride of place,
VVas by a Mowling Owle hawkt at, and kill'd.

Roffe. And Duncan's horſes,
(A thing moſt ſtrange, and certain)
Beauteous, and ſwifſt, the Minions of their Race,
Turn'd wild in nature, broke their ſtalls, ſlung our,
Contending 'gainſt Obedience, as they would
Make war with Mankind.

Old man. 'Tis ſaid, they eat each other.

Roffe. They did ſo:

To

The Tragedy of Macbeth.

717

To th'amazement of mine eyes that look'd upon't.

*Enter Macduff.*

Here comes the good Macduff.

How goes the world, Sir, now?

Macd. V Vhy see you not?

Roffe. Is't known who did this more then bloudy deed?

Macd. Thoſe that Macbeth hath flained.

Roffe. Alas the day,

What good could they pretend?

Macd. They were ſuborned,

Malcolm, and Donalbain the King's two Sonnes
Are to ſoln away and fled, which puts upon them
Sufpition of the deed.

Roffe. 'Gainſt Nature ſtill,
Thriftleſts Ambition, that will raven upon
Thine own lives means: then 'tis moſt like,
The Soveraignty will fall upon Macbeth.

Macd. He is already nam'd, and gone to Scone

To be inveſted.

Roffe. Where is Duncan's body?

Macd. Carried to Colmkill.

The Sacred Store-houſe of his Predeceſſors,
And Guardian of their Bones.

Roffe. Will you to Scone?

Macd. No Couſin, I'le to Fife.

Roffe. Well, I will thither.

Macd. Well may you ſee things well done there: Adieu.
Left our old Robes fit easier then our new.

Roffe. Farewell, Father.

Old M. God's benſon go with you Sir, and with that
That would make good of bad, and Friends of Foes.

*Exeunt omnes.*

Actus Tertius. Scena Prima.

*Enter Banquo.*

Banq. Thou haſt it now, King, Cawdor, Glamis', all,
As the weyward Woman promis'd, and I fear
Thou playd'it moſt foulely for't: yet it was ſaid

It should not ſtand in thy Poſterity,

But that my ſelf should be the Root, and Father
Of many Kings. If there come truth from them,

As upon thee Macbeth, their Speeches ſhine,
Why by the verities on thee made good,
May they not be my Oracles as well,
And fet me up in hope. But huſt, no more.

Senit founded. Enter Macbeth as King, Lady Lenox,
Roffe, Lords, and Attendants.

Maeb. Here's our chief Gueſt.

La. If he had been ſorgotten,

It had been as a gap in our great Feaſt,

And all things unbeconing.

Macb. To night we hold a ſolemn Supper, fir,

And I'le request your prefence.

Banq. Let your Highneſts

Command upon me, to the which my duties

Are with a moſt indiſſoluble tye

For ever knit.

Macb. Ride you this afternoon?

Banq. I, my good Lord.

Macb. We should have eſſe: defir'd your good advice

(Which fill hath been both grave, and p[ro]ſperous)

In this dayes Council: but we'll take to morrow.

Is't far you ride?

Banq. As far, my Lord, as will fill up the time

'Twixt this, and Supper. Go not my Horſe the better,
I muſt become a borrower of the Night,

For a dark hour or twain.

Macb. Fail not our Feaſt.

Ban. My Lord, I will not.

Macb. We hear our bloudy Couſins are beſtow'd
In England, and in Ireland, not confefling.

Their cruel Parricide, filling their hearers
With ſtrange invention. But of that to morrow,

When therewithall we ſhall have cauſe of State,

Craving us jointly. Hye you to horſe :

Adieu, till you return at Night.

Goes Fleance with you?

Ban. I, my good Lord: our time does call upon's.

Macb. I with your Horſes ſwift, and ſure of foot :

And so do I commend you to their backs.

Farewell,

*Exit Banquo.*

Let every man be maſter of his time,

'Till ſeven at Night, to make ſociety

The ſweeter welcome :

We will keep our ſelf till Supper time alone :

While then, God be with you.

*Exeunt Lords.*

Sirrha, a word with you : Attend thofe men

Our pleafure?

Servant. They are, my Lord, without the Pallace
Gate.

Macb. Bring them before us.

*Exit Servant.*

To be thus, is nothing, but to be safely thus :

Our fears in Banquo ſick deep,

And in his Royalty of Nature reigns that

Which would be fear'd. 'Tis much he dares,

And to that dauntleſs temper of his Mind,

He hath a W[ild]dome, that doth guide his Valour,

To act in safety. There is none but he,

Whofe being I do fear : and under him,

My Genius is rebuk'd, as it is ſaid.

Mark Anthony's was by Cæsar, He chid the Sifters,

When firſt they put the Name of King upon me.

And bad them ſpeak to him. Then Prophet-like,

They hayl'd him Father to a Line of Kings.

Upon my head they plac'd a fruitleſt Crown,

And put a barren Scepter in my Gripe,

Thence to be wrench'd with an unlineal Hand,

No Son of mine succeeding: if't be ſo,

For Banquo's Iſſue have I fill'd my Mind,

For them, the gracious Duncan have I murther'd,

Put Rancours in the Veſſel of my Peace

Only for them, and mine eternal Jewel

Given to the common Enemy of Man,

To make them Kings, the Seeds of Banquo Kings:

Rather then ſo, come Fate into the Lift,

And champion me to th'utterance.

Who's there?

*Enter Servant, and two Murtherers.*

Now go to the Door, and fly there till we call.

*Exit Servant.*

Was it not y[ef]terday we ſpoke together?

Murth. It was, fo pleafe your Highneſts.

Macb. Well then,

Now you have confider'd of my ſpeeches ?

P p p 2

Know,

The Tragedy of Macbeth.

Know, that it was he, in the times paſt,
Which held you ſo under fortune,
Which you thought had been our innocent ſelf,
This I made good to you, in our laſt conference,
Paſt in probation with you :

How you were born in hand, how croſt :
The Inſtruments : who wrought with them 4
And all things eſſe, that might

To half a Soul, and to a Notion craz'd,

Say, thus did *Banguo*.

1. *Murth.* You made it known to us;

*Mach.* I did ſo :

And went further, which is now

Our point of ſecond meeting.

Do you find your patience ſo predominant
In your nature, that you can let this go?

Are you ſo Golſpell'd to pray for this good man,

And for his Iſſue, whose heavy hand

Hath bow'd you to the Grave, and begger'd
Yours for ever ?

1. *Murth.* We are men, my Liege.

*Mach.* I, in the Catalogue ye go for men,
As Hounds, and Greyhounds, Mangrels, Spaniels, Currs,
Showghes, Water-Rugs, and Demy-Wolves are clipt
All by the Name of Doggs : the valued file
Diftinguifies the ſwift, the flow, the ſubtle,
The Houſe-keeper, the Hunter, every one

According to the gift, which bounteous Nature

Hath in him cloſ'd : whereby he does receive

Particular addition, from the Bill,

That writes them all alike : and ſo of men,

Now, if you have a ſlation in the ſile,

Not i' th' worſt rank of Manhood, ſay't,

And I will put the bufineſs in your Boſomes,

Whofe execution takes your Enemy off,

Grapples you to the heart ; and love of us,

Who wear our Health but ſickly in his Life,

Which in his Death were perſect.

2. *Murth.* I am one my Liege,

Whom the vile Blowes and Buffets of the world

Hath ſo incensed that I am reckles what I doe,

To ſpight the World.

1. *Murth.* And I another,

So weary with Diſaſters, tugg'd with Fortune,

That I would fet my Life on any Chance,

To mend it or be rid on't.

*Mach.* Both of you know *Banquo* was your Enemy.

*Murth.* True, my Lord.

*Mach.* So is he mine : and in ſuch bloudy diſtance,
That every minute of his being, thruſts

Against my near'ſt of Life : and though I could

With bare-fac'd power ſweep him from my fight,

And bid my will avouch it ; yet I muſt nor,

For certain friends that are both his, and mine,

Whofe loves I may not drop, but wail his fall,

Who I my ſelf ſtruck down : and thence it is,

That I to your affiſtance do make love,

Masking the bufineſs from the common Eye,

For ſundry weighty Reaſons.

2. *Murth.* We ſhall, my Lord,

Perform what you command us.

1. *Murth.* Though our Lives ------

*Mach.* Your Spirits ſhine through you :
Within this hour, at moſt,

I will advife you where to plant your ſelves,

Acquaint you with the perſect Spy o' th'time,

The moment on't, for't muſt be done to Night,
And forethome from the Palace : always thought,
That I require a clearneſs ; and with him,
To leave no Rubs nor Botches in the VWork :
*Fleans*, his Son, that keeps him company,
Whofe abſence is no leſs material to me,
Then is his Fathers, muſt embrace the fate
Of that dark hour : reſolve your ſelves a-part,
I'le come to you anon.

*Murth.* VVe are reſolv'd, my Lord.

*Mach.* I'le call upon you ſtraight : abide within,
It is concluded : *Banguo*, thy Soule's flight,
If it find Heaven, muſt find it out to Night.

*Exeunt.*

## Scena Secunda

### Enter Macbeth's Lady, and a Servant.

*Lady.* Is *Banguo* gone from Court ?

*Servant.* I, Madam, but returns again to Night.

*Lady.* Say to the King, I would attend his leiſure,
For a few words.

*Servant.* Madam, I will.

*Exit.*

*Lady.* Nought had, all's ſpent,

VVhere our deſire is got without content :
'Tis ſafer, to be that which we deſtroy.

Then by deſtruction dwell in doubtfull joy.

*Enter Macbeth.*

How now, my Lord, why do you keep alone ?

Of forryſt Fancies your Companions making,

Uſing that ſhouſts, which I should indeed have dy'd
VVith them they think on : things without all remedie

Should be without regard : what's done, is done.

*Mach.* We have ſcorch'd the Snake, not kill'd it;

She'll close, and be her ſelf, whileſt our poor Malice
Remains in danger of her former Tooth.

But let the frame of things dis-joyp't.

Both the Worlds ſuffer,

E're we will eat our Meal in fear, and ſleep

In the affliation of the ſerue terrible Dreames,

That ſhake us Nightly : Better be with the dead,

Whom we, to gain our place, have ſent to peace:

Then on the torture of the Mind to lie

In reſtlesſ extaſe:

*Duncan.* is in his Grave :

After Life's fitful Fever, he ſleeps well,

Treſcon has done his work : nor Steel nor Poison

Malice domeſtick, foreign Levic, nothing

Can touch him further.

*Lady.* Come on :

Gentle my Lord, ſleek o're your rugged Lookes,

Be bright and Jovial: in your Gueſts to Night.

*Mach.* So ſhall I, Love, and ſo I pray be you :

Let your remembrance ſtill apply to *Banquo*,

Prefent him Eminence, both with Eye and Tongue:

Unſaſe the while, that we muſt lave

Our Honours in theſe flattering ſtreames,

And make our Faces Vizards to our Hearts,

Difguising what they are.

*Lady.* You muſt lave this.

*Mach.* O, full of Scorpions is my Mind, dear Wife :
Thou knowſt, that *Banguo* and his *Fleans* lives.

*Lady.* But

The Tragedy of Macbeth.

719

Lady. But in them, Nature's Coppie's not ereme.
Mach. There's comfort yer, they are affailable,
Then be thou jocund: e're the Bat hath flown
His Cloyfer'd flight, e're to black Hecat's fummons
The thard-born Beetle, with his drowfie hums,
Hath rung Night's yawning Peale,
There shall be done a deed of dreadfull note.
Lady. What's to be done?
Mach. Be innocent of the knowledge, deareft Chuck,
'Till thou applaud the deed: Come, feeling Night,
Skarf up the tender Eye of pittifull Day,
And with thy bloudy and invifible Hand
Cancell and tear to pieces that great Bond;
Which keeps me pale. Light thickens,
And the Crow makes wing to th' Rookie Wood:
Good things of Day begin to droop, and drowze,
Whiles Night's black Agents to their Preys do rowze.
Thou marvell'd at my words: but hold thee still:
Things bad begun, make ftrong themselves by ill:
So prythee go with me.
Exeunt.

## Scena Tertia.

Enter three Murtherers.

1. But who did bid thee joyn with us?
3. *Macheth.*
2. He needs not our miftruſt, ſince he delivers
Our Offices, and what we have to do,
To the direction juſt.
1. Then ſtand with us,
The weſt yet glinmers with ſome ſreaks of Day.
Now ſpurreſs the lateſt traveſler apace,
To gain the timely Inn, and near approaches
The ſubject of our Watch.
3. Heark, I hear Horſes.
*Banquo within.*
4. Then 'tis he:
The reſt, that are within the note of expeſtation,
Already are i' th' Court.
1. His Horſes go about,
3. Almoſt a mile: but he does uſually,
So all men do, from hence to th' Palace Gate
Make it their walk.

*Enter Banquo and Fleans, with a Torch.*

2. A Light, a Light.
3. 'Tis he.
1. Stand to't.
*Ban.* It will be Rain to Night.
1. Let it come down.
*Ban.* O, Treachery !

Flie good Fleans, flie, flie, flie,
Thou may'ſt revenge. O Slave !

3. Who did ſtrike out the Light ?
1. Was't not the way ?
3. There's but one down: the Son is ſled.
2. VVe have loſt

Beſt half of our Aſſair.

1. Well, let's away, and ſay how much is done.

Exeunt.

## Scena Quarta.

Banquet prepar'd. Enter Macbeth, Lady, Roffe, Lenox,
Lords, and Attendants.

Mach. You know your own degrees, fit down:
At first and laſt, the hearty welcome.
Lords. Thanks to your Majeſtyle.
Mach. Our ſelf will mingle with Society,
And play the humble Hoſt:
Our Hoſteſs keeps her State, but in the beſt time
We will require her welcome.

Lady. Pronounce it for me, Sir, to all our Friends,
For my heart ſpeaks, they are welcome.

Enter first Murtherer.

Mach. See they encounter thee with their hearts thanks
Both fides are even: here I'le fit i' th' mid'ft,
Be large in Mirth, anon we'll drink a Meaſure
The table round. There's bloud upon thy face.
Mur. 'Tis Banquo's then.
Mach. 'Tis better thee without, then he within.
Is he disſpath'd?

Mur. My Lord his throat is cut, that I did for him.
Mach. Thou art the beſt o' th' Cut-throats,
Yet he's good that did the like for Fleans:
If thou did'ſt it, thou art the Non-pareil.

Mur. Moſt Royal Sir
*Fleans* is ſcap'd,

Mach. Then comes my Fit again:
I had eſſe been perſect;
Whole as the Marble, founded as the Rock,
As broad, and general, as the caſing Air:
But now I am cabin'd, crib'd, confin'd, bound in
To fawcy doubts, and ſeaſes. But Banquo's ſafe ?
Mur. I, my good Lord: ſafe in a ditch he bides,
With twenty trenched gaffes on his head;
The leaſt a Death to Nature.
Mach. Thanks for that,
There the grown Serpent lies, the worm that's ſled
Hath Nature, that in time will Venom breed,
No teeth for th' preſent. Get thee gone, to morrow
Well hear our ſelves again.
Lady. My Royal Lord,
You do not give the Cheer, the Feaſt is ſold
That is not often vouch'd, while 'tis making:
'Tis given with welcome: to feed were beſt at home:
From thence, the fawce to meat is Ceremony,
Meeting were bare without it

Enter the Ghoſt of Banquo, and fits in Macbeth's place.

Mach. Sweet Remembrancer:
Now good digeſtion wait on Appetite,
And health on both.
Lenox. May't please you your Highneſs ſit.
Mach. Here had we now our Countrie's Honour, roof'd,
VVere the grac'd perſon of our Banquo preſent:
VVho may I rather challenge for unkindneſſs;
Then pitie for Mifchance.
Roffe. His abſence (Sir)

Lays blame upon his promife. Pleas't your Highneſſs
To grace us with your Royal Company ?

Mach.

["The Tragedy of Macbeth.", "Macb. The table's full.", "Lenox. Here is a place referred to, Sir.", "Macb. Where?", "Lenox. Here my good Lord.", "What is't that moves your Highness?", "Macb. Which of you have done this?", "Lords. What, my good Lord?", "Macb. Thou canst not say I did it; never shake", "thy們 locks at me.", "Raffe. Gentlemen rife, his Highness is not well.", "Lady. Sit worthy Friends: my Lord is often thus,\nAnd hath been from his youth. Pray you keep fear,\nThe fit is momentary, upon a thought", "He will again be well. If much you note him", "You shall offend him, and extend his Paffion,", "Feed, and regard him not. Are you a man?", "Macb. I, and a bold one, that dare look on that\nWhich might appall the Devil.", "Lady. O, proper stuff !", "This is the very painting of your fear:", "This is the Air-drawn-Dagger which you faid", "Led you to Duncan. O, these flaws and starts", "(Impoftors to true fear) would well become", "A woman's flory at a winter's fire", "Authoriz'd by her Grandam: shame it self,", "Why do you make such faces ? When all's done", "You look but on a fool.", "Macb. Prythee fee there:", "Behold, look, love, how say you :", "Why what care I, if thou canst nod, speak too.", "If Charnel-houses, and our Graves must fend.", "Thofe that we bury, back ; our Monuments", "Shall be the Mawes of Kites.", "Exit Ghoſt.", "Lady. What ? quite unman'd in folly.", "Macb. If I ſtand here, I saw him.", "Lady. Fie for ſhame.", "Macb. Bloud hath been ſhed e're now, i' th' olden time\nE're humane Statue purg'd the gentle Weal :", "I, and ſince too, Murthers have been perform'd", "Too terrible for the ear : the times have been,", "That when the Brains were out, the man would die,", "And there an end; But now they rife again.", "With twenty mortal murthers on their crowns,", "And pufh us from our ſtools: this is more ſtrange", "Then ſuch a Murther is.", "Lady. My worthy Lord", "Your Noble Friends do lack you.", "Macb. I do forget :", "Do not mufe at me my moſt worthy Friends,", "I have a ſtrange infirmity, which is nothing", "To thofe that know me. Come, love and health to all,", "Then I'le fit down : Give me some fome wine, fill full :", "Enter Ghoſt.", "I drink to th' general joy o' th' whole Table,", "And to our dear Friend Banquo, whom we mifs:", "Would he were here : to all; and him we thirſt,", "And all to all,", "Lords. Our duties, and the pledge.", "Macb. Avant, and quit my fight, let the earth hide thee:", "Thy bones are marrowleſs: thy bloud is cold;", "Thou haſt no ſpeculation in thofe eyes", "Which thou doſt glare with.", "Lady. Think of this good Peers", "But as a thing of Cuſtome : 'tis no other,", "Only it ſpoils the pleasure of the time.", "Macb. What man dare, I dare :", "Approach thou like the rugged Ruffian Bear,", "The arm'd Rhinoceros, or th' Hyrcan tyger,", "Take any ſhape but that, and my firm Nerves", "Shall never tremble. Or be alive again,", "And dare me to the Defart with thy Sword :", "If trembling I inhabit, then proteſt me", "The Baby of a Girl. Hence horrible ſhadow,", "Unreal mock'ry hence. Why fo, be gone", "I am a man again : pray you fit ſtill.", "Exit,", "Lady. You have diſplaſ'd the mirth,", "Broke the good meeting, with moſt admir'd diſorder,", "Macb. Can ſuch things be,", "And overcome us like a Summer's Cloud", "Without our ſpecial wonder ? You make me ſtrange", "Even to the diſpoſition that I owe,", "When now I think you can behold ſuch ſights,", "And keep the natural Rubie of your Cheeks,", "When mine is blanch'd with fear.", "Roffe. VVhat ſignes, my-Lord?", "La. I pray you ſpeak not : he grows worſe and worſe,\nQuestion enrages him : at once, goodnight,", "Stand not upon the order of your going,", "But go at once.", "Lenox. Good night, and better health", "Attend his Majesty.", "La. A kind goodnight to all.", "Exeunt Lords,", "Macb. It will have bloud they ſay :", "Bloud will have Bloud :", "Stones have been known to move, and trees to ſpeak :", "Augures, and underſood Relations, have", "By Maggot Pyes, & Choughes, and Rooks brought forth", "The ſecre'ſt man of bloud. What is the night?", "La. Almoſt at odds with morning, which is which,", "Macb. How ſay'ſt thou that Macduff denies his perſon", "At our great bidding ?", "La. Did you ſend to him, Sir?", "Macb. I hear it by the way: But I will ſend :", "There's not a one of them but in his houſe", "I keep a Servant Fee'd. I will to morrow", "(And betimes I will) to the wizard Sifters,", "More ſhall they ſpeak : for now I am bent to know", "By the worſt means, the worſt, for mine own good,", "All cauſes (hall give way, I am in bloud", "Spent in ſo far, that should I wade no more,", "Returning were as tedious as go o're :", "Strange things I have in head, that will to hand,", "Which muſt be aſted, e're they may be cannd'd.", "Lady. You lack the ſeaſon of all Natures, ſleep.", "Macb. Come, we'll to ſleep ; My ſtrange and ſelf-abufe\nIs the initiate fear, that wants hard uſe :", "Exeunt.", "## Scena Quinta.", "Thunder. Enter the three Witches, meeting Hecate.", "I. Why how now Hecate, you look angerly ?", "Hec. Have I not reaſon (Beldames) as you are ?", "Sawcy, and over-bold, how did you dare", "To trade, and traffick with Macbeth,", "In Riddles, and Affairs of death ;", "And", "And I\nThe cloſe\nWas ne\nOr ſhow\nAnd whi\nHath be\nSpightſul\nLoves to\nBut make\nAnd at\nMeet me\nWill com\nYour Ve\nYour Ch\nI am for\nUnto a d\nGreat bu\nUpon the\nThere ha\nHe carch\nAnd that\nSh

The Tragedy of Macbeth.

721

And I the Miftreſs of your Charmes,
The close contriver of all harmes,
Was never call'd to bear my part,
Or ſhow the glory of our Art ?
And which is worſe, all you have done
Hath been for a wayward Son,
Spightfull, and wraſthfull, who (as others do)
Loves for his own ends, not for you.
But make amends now : Get you gon,
And at the pit of Acheron
Meet me i'th Morning: thither he
Will come, to know his Deſtine,
Your Veffels, and your ſpells provide,
Your Charmes, and every thing before :
I am for th'Air: this night I'le ſpend
Unto a diſmal, and a Fatal end.
Great buſineſs muſt be wouſted e're Noon.
Upon the Corner of the Moon
There hangs a vap'rous drop, profound,
I'le catch it e're it come to ground ;
And that diſtill'd by Magick flights,
Shall raſe ſuch Artificial Sprights,
As by the ſtrength of their Illusion,
Shall draw him on to his Conſuſon.
He ſhall ſpurn Fate, ſcorn Death, and bear
His hopes ? boſe Wifedome, Grace, and Fear:
And you all know, Security
Is mortals chieſt Enemy.

Mufick, and a Song.

Heark, I am call'd: my little Spirit ſee
Sits in a Foggy cloud, and ſtayes for me.

Sing within. Come away, come away, &c.

1. Come, let's make hafe, ſhe'll ſoon be
Back again.

Exeunt.

## Scena Sexta.

Enter Lenox, and another Lord.

Lenox. My former Speeches,
Have but hit your Thoughts,
Which can interpret farther: Onely I ſay
Things have been ſtrangely borne. The gracious Duncan
Was pittied of Macbeth: marry he was dead:
And the right valiant Banquo walk'd too late.
Whom you may ſay (if't pleas you) Fleans kill'd,
For Fleans ſled: Men muſt not walk too late.
Who cannot want the thought, how monſtrous
It was for Malcolm, and for Donalbane
To kill their gracious Father ? Damned Faeſt,
How it did grieve Macbeth ? Did he not ſtraight
In pious rage, the two delinquents tear,
That were the Slaves of drink, and thralls of ſleep ?
Was that not Nobly done ? I, and wifely too :
For 'twould have anger'd any heart alive
To hear the men deny't. So that I ſay,
He ha's borne all things well, and I do think,
That had he Duncan's Sonnes under the Key,
(As and't pleafe Heaven he shall not) they ſhall find
What 'twere to kill a Father: So ſhould Fleans.
But peace; for from broad words, and cauſe he fail'd
His preference at the Tyrant's Feaſt ; I hear
Macduſſe lives in diſgrace. Sir, can you tell

Where he beſtowes himſelf ?

Lord. The Sonnes of Duncan
(From whom this: Tyrant holds the due of Birth)
Live in the English Court, and is receiv'd
Of the moſt Pious Edward, with ſuch grace,
That the malevolence of Fortune, nothing
Takes from his high reſpect. Thither Macduſſe
Is gone, to pray the holy King, upon his aid
To wake Northumberland, and warlike Seywards,
That by the help of these ( with him above
To ratifie the Work) we may again
Give to our Tables meat) ſleep to our Nights :
Free from our Feaſts, and Banquets bloudy knives ;
Do faithfull Homage, and receive free Honours,
All which we pine for now. And this report
Hath ſo exaſperate their King, that he
Prepares for ſome attempt of War.

Lenox. Sent he to Macduſſe ?

Lord. He did: and with an abſolute, Sir, not I,
The cloudy Meffenger turns me his back,
And hums; as who should ſay, you'll rue the time
That cloggs me with this Anſwer.

Lenox. And that well might
Advise him to a Caution, t'hold what diſtance
His wifedome can provide. Some holy Angel
Flie to the Court of England, and unfold
His Mefflage e're he come, that a ſwift bleſſing
May ſoon return to this our ſuffering Countrey,
Under a hand accurs'd.

Lord. I'le ſend my Prayers with him.

Exeunt.

## Actus Quintus. Scena Prima.

1. Thrice the brinded Cat hath mew'd.

2. Thrice, and once the Hedges Pig whin'd.

3. Harpier cryes, 'tis time, 'tis time.

1. Round about the Cauldron go :

In the poifon'd Entrails throw
Toad, that under cold ſtone,
Dayes and Nights, has thirty one :
Sweſtred Venom ſleeping got,
Boil thou firſt i'th'charmed pot.

All. Double, double, toil and trouble;
Fire burn, and Cauldron bubble.

2. Fillet of a Fenny Snake,
In the Cauldron boil and bake :
Eye of Newt, and Toe of Frog :
Wooll of Bat, and Tongue of Dog :
Adders Fork, and Blind-worms Sting,
Lizards Leg, and Howlet's Wing :
For a Charm of powerfull trouble,
Like a Helt-broth, boil and bubble.

All. Double, double, toil and trouble,
Fire burn, and Cauldron bubble.

3. Scale of Dragon, Tooth of Wolf,
Witches Mummy, Maw, and Gulf
Of the ravin'd ſalt Sea Shark :
Root of Hemlock, digg'd i'th'dark :
Liver of Blafpheming Jew,
Gall of Goat, and Slips of Yew,
Sliver'd in the Moon's Eclipse.

Noſo

The Tragedy of Macbeth.

722

Nofe of Turk, and Tartar's lips,
Finger of Birth-strangled Babe,
Ditch-deliver'd by a Drab,
Make the Gruel thick, and flab.

Add thereto a Tyger's Chawdron,
For th'Ingredience of our Cauldron.

2. Cool it with a Baboon's bloud,
Then the Charm is firm and good.

*Enter Hecate, and the other three Witches.*

Hec. O well done : I commend your paines,
And every one (shall share i'th'gaines :
And now about the Cauldron fing
Like Elves and Fairies in a Ring,
Inchanting all that you put in.

*Mufick and a Song, Black Spirits, &c.*

2. By the pricking of my thumbs,
Something wicked this way comes :
Open Locks, whoever knocks.

*Enter Macbeth.*

Macb. How now you secret, black, and midnight Hags?
What is't you do?

All. A deed without a name.

Macb. I conjure you, by that which you Profess,
(How-e're you come to know it) anfwer me :
Though you untie the windes, and let them fight
Against the Churches: Though the yefty Waves
Confound and swallow Navigation up :

Though bladed Corn be lodg'd, and trees blown down,
Though Cnaftles topple on their Warders heads :

Though Palaces, and Pyramids do flope

Their heads to their Foundations: though the treasure
Of Natures Germain, wumble altogether,
Even 'till deftruction ficken: Anfwer me
To what I ask you.

1. Speak.

2. Demand.

3. We'll anfwer.

1. Say, if th'had'ft rather hear it from our mouthes,
Or from our Maſters.

Macb. Call'em: let me fee'em.

1. Pour in Sowes bloud, that hath eaten
Her nine Farrow: Greace that's sweaten
From the Murtherers Gibbet, throw
Into the Flame.

All. Come high or low:

Thy Self and Office deftly show.
Thunder.

1. Apparition, an Armed Head.

Macb. Tell me thou unknown power.

1. He knowes thy thought:
Hear his ſpeech, but ſay thou nought.

1. Appar. Macbeth, Macbeth, Macbeth.

Beware Macduff,

Beware the Thane of Fife: diſmifs me. Enough.

He Descends.

Macb. What-e're thou art, for thy good caution, thanks,
Thou haſt harp'd my fear aright. But one word more,

1. He will not be commanded: here's another
More potent then the firſt.
Thunder.

2. Apparition, a Bloudy Child.

Mach. Had I three ears, I'd hear thee.

2. Appar. Be bloudy, bold, and refolute :

Laugh to ſcorn

The power of man: For none of woman borne

Shall harm Macbeth.

Descends.

Macb. Then live, Macduff: what need I fear of thee?
But yet I'le make affurance, double ſure,
And take a Bond of Fate: thou chalt not live,
That I may tell pale-hearted Fear, it lies ;
And fleep in spight of thunder.

Thunder.

3. Apparition, a Child crowned, with a Tree in his hand.
What is this, that rifes like the ilſue of a King,
And weares upon his Baby-brow, the round
And top of Soveraignty?

All. Liffen, but I speak not to't.

3. Appar. Be Lyon metled, proud, and take no care:

Who chafes, who frets, or where Conspirers are:
Macbeth shall never vanquifh'd be, until
Great Byrnam wood, to high Dunfinane Hill
Shall come againſt him.

Descend.

Macb. That will never be:
Who can impreſſes the Forreſt, bid the tree
Unfix his earth-bound Root? Sweet boadlements, good:
Rebellious dead, rife never'till the Wood
Of Byrnam rife, and our high-plac'd Macbeth
Shall live the Leafe of Nature, pay his breath
To time, and mortal Custome. Yet my heart
Throbs to know one thing: tell me, if your Art
Can tell so much: Shall Banquo's ilſue ever
Reign in this Kingdome?

All. Seek to know no more.

Macb. I will be ſatified. Deny me this,
And an eternal Curſe fall on you: Let me know,
Why finks that Cauldron? & what moſt is this? Hoboyes.

1. Shew.

2. Shew.

3. Shew.

All. Shew his Eyes, and grieve his Heart,
Come like Shadows, to depart.

A ſhow of eight Kings, and Banquo laſt, with a
glais in his hand.

Macb. Thou art too like the Spirit of Banquo: Down:
Thy Crown do's fear mine Eye-balls. And thy hair
Thou other Gold-bound-brow, is like the firſt :
A third, is like the former. Filthy Haggs,
Why do you ſhow me this? ----- A fourth ? Start eye !
What will the Line ſtrech out to th'crack of Doom ?

Another yet ? A ſeventh ? I'le fee no more :

And yet the eighth appears, who beares a glaſs,
Which ſhewes me many more : and ſome I fee,
That two-fold Balls, and treble Scepters carry.

Horrible fight: Now I fee 'tis true,
For the Bloud-bolter'd Banquo ſmiles upon me,
And points at them for his. What is this ſo ?

1. I Sir, all this is ſo. But why
Stands Macbeth thus amazedly ?
Come Sifters, cheer we up his ſprights,
And ſhow the beſt of our delights.
I'le Charm the Air to give a found,
While you perform your Antique round:
That this great King may kindly ſay,
Our duties, did his welcome pay.

Mufick.

The Witches Dance, and vanish.

Macb. Where are they ? Gone ?
Let this pernicious hour,

Stand yce accurfed in the Kalender.

Come in, without there,

Enter Lenox.

Lenox. What's your Graces will?

Macb.

The Tragedy of Macbeth.

723

Mach. Saw you the Wizard Sifters ?

Lenox. No my Lord.

Mach. Came they not by you ?

Lenox. No indeed my Lord.

Mach. Infected be the Air whereon they ride,

And damn'd all thofe that truft them. I did hear
The gallopping of Horfe. Who was't came by ?

Len. 'Tis two or three my Lord, that bring you word:
Macduff is fled to England.

Mach. Fled to England ?

Len. I, my good Lord.

Mach. Time, thou anticipat'st my dread exploits :

The flighty purpofe never is o're-took

Unlefs the deed go with it. From this moment,

The very firstling of my heart shall be

The firstlings of my hand. And even now

To Crown my thoughts with Actions be it thought & done:

The Caffle of Macduff, I will SUPRIZE.

Seize upon Fife ; give to th'edge o'th' Sword

His Wife, his Babes, and all unfortunate Soules

That trace him in his Line. No boafing like a Fool,

This deed I'le do, before this purpofe cool,

But no more fights. Where are thefe Gentlemen ?

Come bring me where they are.

Exeunt.

## Scena Secunda.

Enter Macduff's Wife, her Son, and Roffe.

Wife. What had he done, to make him fly the Land ?

Roffe. You muft have patience Madam.

Wife. He had none :

His flight was madneſs : when our Actions do not,

Our feares do make us traytors.

Roffe. You know not

Whether it was his Wifedome, or his fear.

Wife. Wifedome ? to leave his wife, to leave his Babes,

His Manſion, and his titles, in a place

From whence himſelf does flie ? He loves us not.

He wants the natural touch : for the poor Wren

(The moſt diminitive of Birds) will fight,

Her young ones in her Neſt, againſt the Owle :

All is the Fear, and nothing is the Love :

As little is the Wifedome, where the flight

So runs againſt all reaſon.

Roffe. My deareſt Couz,

I pray you ſchool your ſelf; But for your Husband,

He is Noble, Wif, Judicious, and beſt knowes

The fits o'th' Season. I dare not ſpeak much further,

But cruel are the times, when we are traytors

And do not know our ſelves : when we hold Rumour

From what we fear, yet know not what we fear,

But float upon a wild and violent Sea

Each way, and move. I take my leave of you :

Shall not be long but I'le be here againe.

Things at the worſt will ceaſe, or eſſe climb upward,

To what they were before. My pretty Couſin,

Bleffing upon you.

Wife. Father'd he is,

And yet he's Fatherleſs.

Roffe. I am ſo much a Fool, I should I flay longer

It would be my difgrace, and your diſcomfort.

I take my leave at once.

Exit Roffe.

Wife. Sirra, your Father's dead,

And what will you do, now ? How will you live

Son. As Birds do, Mother.

Wife. What with wormes and flies ?

Son. With what I get, and ſo do they.

Wife. Poor Bird,

Thou'd it never fear the Net, nor Line,

The Pitfall, nor the Gin.

Son. Why should I Mother ?

Poor Birds they are not ſet for :

My Father is not dead for all your ſaying.

Wife. Yes, he is dead :

How wilt thou do for a Father ?

Son. Nay how will you do for a Husband ?

Wife. Why I can buy me twenty at any Market.

Son. Then you'll buy 'em to fell again.

Wife. Thou ſpeak'ſt with all thy wit,

And yet i'faith with wit enough for thee,

Son. Was my Father a traitor, Mother ?

Wife. I, that he was,

Son. What is a traitor ?

Wife. Why one that ſweares, and lyes.

Son. And be all traitors that do ſo ?

Wife. Every one that do's ſo, is a traitor,

And muſt be hang'd,

Son. And muſt they all be hang'd, that ſwear and lye?

Wife. Every one,

Son. Who muſt hang them ?

Wife. Why, honest men.

Son. Then the Lyars and Swearers are Fools: for there
are Lyars and Swearers enow, to beat the honest men,
and hang up them,

Wife. Now God help thee, poor Monkey :

But how wilt thou do for a Father ?

Son. If he were dead, you'd weep for him: if you
would not it were a good ſigne, that I should quickly
have a new Father.

Wife. Poor pratler, how thou talk'ſt ?

Enter a Meffenger.

Mef. Bleſs you fair Dame : I am not to you known,

Though in your ſtate of honour I am perſect

I doubt ſome danger does approach you nearly.

If you will take a homely man's advice,

Be not found here : hence with your little ones :

To fright you thus, Me thinks I am too ſavage :

To do worſe to you, were ſell Cruelty,

Which is too nigh your perfon. Heaven preferve you,

I dare abide no longer.

Exit Meffenger.

Wife. Whither should I flie ?

I have done no harm. But I remember now

I am in this earthly world : where to do harm

Is often laudable, to do good ſometime

Accounted dangerous folly. Why then (alas)

Do I put up that womanly defence,

To ſay I had done no harm ?

What are theſe faces?

Enter Murtherers.

Mur. Where is your Husband ?

Wife. I hope in no place ſo unſanctified,

Where ſuch as thou may'ſt find him.

Mur. He's a Traitor.

Son. Thou ly'ſt thou ſhag-car'd Villain.

Mur. What you Egg?

Young fry of treachery?

Son. He has kill'd me Mother,

Run away I pray you.

Exit, crying Murther.

Scena

The Tragedy of Macbeth.

## Scena Tertia.

Enter Malcolm and Macduff.

Mal. Let us seek out some defolate glade, and there
Weep our sad bofomes empty.

Macd. Let us rather
Hold fast the mortal Sword: and like good men,
Beftride our downfall Birthdome: each new Morn,
New Widows howl, new Orophans cry, new forrows
Strike Heaven on the face, that it refounds
As if it felt with Scotland, and yell'd out
Like Syllable of Dolour.

Mal. What I believe, I'le wail ;
What know, believe, and what I can redreſſ,
As I ſhall find the time to friend, I will,
What you have spoke, it may be so perchance.
This Tyrant, whose sole Name blisters our tongues,
Was once thought honſt: you have lov'd him well,
He hath not touch'd you yet. I am young, but ſomething
You may diſcern of him through me, and wifdome
To offer up a weak, poor innocent Lamb
T appeale an angry God.

Macd. I am not treacherous,

Mal. But Macbeth is.

A good and virtuous Nature may recoil
In an Imperial charge. But I ſhall crave your pardon :
That which you are, my thoughts cannot transſpoe;
Angels are bright full fill, though the brighteſt fell.
Though all things foul would wear the brows of Grace,
Yet Grace muſt full look ſo.

Macd. I have loft my Hopes.

Malc. Perchance even there
VVhere I did find my doubts
VVhy in that rawneſs left you Wife, and Children?
Thofe precious Motives, thofe ſtrong knots of Love,
VVithout leave-taking. I pray you,
Let not my Jealousies, be your Difhonours,
But mine own Safeties: you may be rightly juſt,
VWhat-ever I ſhall think.

Macd. Bleed, bleed poor Countrey,
Great Tyranny, lay thou thy Bafis ſure,
For goodneſs dares not check thee: wear thou thy wrongs
The Title is aſſe'rd. Fare thee well Lord,
I would not be the Villain that thou think'st,
For the whole Space that's in the Tyrant's Graſp,
And the rich Eaſt to boot.

Mal. Be not offended:
I speak not as in absolute fear of you:
I think our Countrey finks beneath the yoak,
It weeps, it bleeds, and each new day a gath
Is added to her wounds. I think withall,
There would be hands uplifted in my right :
And here from gracious England have I offer
Of goodly thoufands. But for all this,
When I ſhall tread upon the Tyrant's head,
Or wear it on my Sword; yet my poor Countrey
Shall have more vices then it had before,
More ſuffer, and more ſundry wayes then ever,
By him that ſhall ſucceed,

Macd. What ſhould he be ?

Mal. It is my ſelf I mean, in whom I know
All the particulars of Vice ſo grafted,

That when they ſhall be open'd black Macbeth
Will feem as pure as Snow, and the poor State
Eſteem him as a Lamb, being compar'd
VWith my confineſſs harmes,

Macd. Not in the Legions
Of horrid Hell, can come a Devil more damn'd
In evils, to top Macbeth.

Mach. I grant him Bloudy,
Luxurious, Avaricious, Falſe, Deceitfull,
Sudden, Malicious, ſmoaking of every finne
That has a name. But there's no bottom, none
In my Voluptuouſe ſns: Your wives, your daughters,
Your matrons, and your maids, could not fill up
The Cifeern of my Luſt, and my Deire
All continent Impediments would o're-bear
That did oppoſe my will. Better Macbeth,
Then ſuch an one to reign,

Macd. Boundleſs intemperance
In Nature is a Tyranny: It hath been
Th'untimely emptying of the happy Throre,
And fall of many Kings. But fear not yet
To take upon you what is yours: you may
Convey your pleasures in a ſpacious plenty,
And yet ſeem cold. The time you may ſo hoodwink:
We have willing Dames enough: there cannot be
That Vulture in you, to devour ſo many
As will to Greatneſs dedicate themselves,
Finding it ſo inclin'd.

Mal. VVith this, there growes
In my moſt ill-compos'd Aſſection, ſuch
A ſtanchleſſs Avarice, that were I King,
I ſhould cut off the Nobles for their Lands,
Deſire his Jewels, and this others Houſe,
And my more-having would be as a Sawce.
To make me hunger more, that I ſhould forge
Quarrels unjuſt againſt the Good and Loyal,
Deſtroying them for wealth.
Macd. This Avarice
Sticks deeper : grows with more pernicious root
Then Summer-feeming Luſt: and it hath bin
The Sword of our ſlain Kings: yet do not fear,
Scotland hath Poisons to fill up your will
Of your mere Own. All theſe are portable,
VVith other Graces weigh'd.

Mal. But I have none. The King-becoming Graces,
As Juſtice, Verity, Temp'rance, Stablenefs,
Bounty, Perſeverance, Mercy, Lowlineſs,
Devotion, Patience, Courage, Fortitude;
I have no reliſh of them, but abound
In the divination of each ſeveral Crime,
Acting it many wayes. Nay had I power I ſhould
Pour the ſweet Milk of Concord, into Hell,
Uproar the univerſal peace, confound,
All unity on earth.

Macd. O Scotland, Scotland!

Mal. If ſuch a one be fit to govern, ſpeak:
I am as I have ſpoken.
Mac. Fit to govern? No not to live. O Nation miſerable!
With an untitled Tyrant, bloudy Sceptred,
When ſhall thou ſee thy wholeſome dayes again ?
Since that the trueſt Iſſue of thy Throre
By his own Interdiſion ſtands accuſt,
And do's blapheme his breed ? thy Royal Father
VVAS a moſt Sainted-King : the Queen that bore thee,
Oſtner upon her knees, then on her feet,
Dy'd every day the liv'd. Fare thee well,

These

The Tragedy of Macbeth.

725

These Evils thou repeat'st upon thy self,
Hath banish'd me from Scotland. O my Breast,
Thy hope ends here.

Mal. Macduff, this Noble passion
Child of Integrity, hath from my foul
Wip'd the black Scruples, reconcil'd my thoughts
To thy good truth, and honour. Devilish Macbeth,
By many of these traines, hath fought to win me
Into his power : and modeft Wifedome plucks me
From over-credulous haſte: but God above
Deal between thee and me; For even now
I put my ſelf to thy direction, and
Unſpeak mine own detraſtation. Here abjure
The taints, and blames I laid upon my ſelf,
For ſtrangers to my Nature, I am yet
Unknown to women, never was forſtore,
Scarcely have coveted what was mine own,
At no time broke my Faith, would not betray
The Devil to his Fellow, and delight
No leſs in truth then life. My firſt falſe ſpeaking
Was this upon my ſelf, what I am truly
Is thine, and my poor Countries to command :
Whither indeed, before thy here approach,
Old ſeyward with ten thouſand warlike men
Already at a point, was ſetting forth ?

Is thine, and my poor Countries to command :
Whither indeed, before thy here approach,
Old ſeyward with ten thouſand warlike men
Already at a point, was ſetting forth ?
Now we'll together, and the chance of goodneſs

Be like our warranted Quarrel. Why are you ſilent ?
Be like our warranted Quarrel. Why are you ſilent ?

Mae. Such welcome, and unwelcome things at once
'Tis hard to reconcile.

Enter a Doctor.

Mal. Well, more anon. Comes the King forth
I pray you ?

Doff. I Sir : there are a crew of wretched Soules
That ſlay his Cure : their malady convinces
The great affay of Art. But at his touch,
Such ſanctity hath Heaven given his hand,

They preſently amend.

Exit.

Mal. I thank you Doctor.

Mae. What's the Difeaſe he means ?

Mal. 'Tis call'd the Evil,

A moſt miraculous work in this good King,
Which often ſince my here remain in Englant,

I have ſeen him doe : How he ſolicits heaven

Himſelf beſt knows : but ſtrangely viſited people

All ſwolne and Ulcerous, pittifull to the eye,

The mere deſpair of Surgery, he cures,

Hanging a golden ſtamp about their necks,

Put on with holy Prayers, and 'tis ſpoken

To the ſucceeding Royalty he leaves

The healing Benediction : with this ſtrange virtue,

He hath a heavenly gift of Propheſe,

And ſundry Bleſſings hang about his Thrope,
That ſpeak him full of Grace.

Enter Roffe.

Mae. See who comes here.

Mae. My Countrieman : but yet I know him not.

Mae. My ever gentle Couſin, welcome hither,

Mae. I know him now. Good God betimes remove
The means, the means that makes us ſtrangers.

Roffe. Sir, Amen.

Mae. Stands Scotland where it did ?

Roff. Alas poor Countrie,

Almost afraid to know it ſelf. It cannot

Be call'd our Mother, but our Grave ; where nothing

But who knows nothing is once ſeen to ſmile :

Where ſighes and groans, and ſhrieks that rent the air

Are made, not mark'd : Where violent forrow ſeems

A Modern extafie : the Dead-man's knell,

Is there ſearce ask'd for who, and good men's lives

Expire before the Flowers in their Caps,

Dying, or e're they ſicken.

Mae. Oh relation ; too nice, and yet too true,

Mae. What's the neſt ſeft grief?

Roffe. That of an hours age, doth hit the ſpeaker,
Each minute teems a new one.

Mae. How does my Wife ?

Roffe. Why well.

Mae. And all my Children ?

Roffe. Well too.

Mae. The Tyrant has not batter'd at their peace ?

Roffe. No, they were well at peace when I did leave'em.

Mae. Be not a niggard of your ſpeech: how Gos't ?

Roffe. When I came hither to tranſport the Tidings

Which I have heavily borne, there ran a Rumour

Of many worthy Fellows, that were out,

Which was to my belief witneſt the rather,

For that I faw the Tyrant's Power a-foot,

Now is the time of help : your eye in Scotland

Would create ſouldiers, make our women fight,

To doſſ their dire diſtrefſes.

Mae. Be't their comfort

We are coming thither : Gracious England hath

Lent us good ſeyward, and ten thouſand men,

An older, and a better ſouldier, none

That Chriſtendome gives out.

Roffe. Would I could anſwer

This comfort with the like. But I have words

That would be howl'd out in the defent air,

Where hearing ſhouſt not latch them.

Mae. What concern they,

The general cauſe, or is it a Fee-grief

Due to ſome ſingle Breast?

Roffe. No mind that's hones ſt

But in it ſhares ſome woe, though the main part

Pertains to you alone.

Mae. If it be mine

Keep it not from me, quickly let me have it.

Roffe. Let not your ears deſpife my tongue for ever,

Which ſhall poffeſs them with the heaviſt found

That ever yet they heard.

Mae. Humh : I gueſt at it.

Roffe. Your Castle is ſurpriz'd : your Wife, and Babes

Savagely ſlaughter'd : to relate the manner

Were on the Quarry of theſe murther'd Deer

To add the death of you.

Mae. Merciſull Heaven :

What man, ne're pull your hat upon your brows :

Give forrow words ; the grief that do's not ſpeak,

Whifpers the o're-fraught heart, and bids it break.

Mae. My Children too ?

Roff. Wife, Children, Servants, all that could be found.

Mae. And I muſt be from thence ? My wife kill'd too ?

Roffe. I have laid.

Mae. Be comforted.

Let's make us Med'cines of our great Revenge,

To cure this deadly grief.

Mae. He has no Children. All my pretty ones ?

Did you ſay All ? O Hell-Kite ! All ?

What, All my pretty Chickens, and their Damm

At one ſell ſwoop?

Mae. Dispute it like a man.

Mae. I ſhall do ſo.

But

The Tragedy of Macbeth.

But I must also feel it as a man;
I cannot but remember such things were
That were most precious to me: Did heaven look on,
And would not take their part ? Sinfull Macduff,
They were all ftkook for thee: Naught that I am,
Not for their own demerits, but for mine
Fell flau ghter on their foules: Heaven reft them now.

Mal. Be this the Whetstone of your fword, let grief
Convert to anger: blunt not the heart, enrage it.

Macd. O I could play the woman with mine eyes,
And Braggart with my tongue. But gentle Heavens,
Cut short all intermiffion: Front to Front,
Bring thou this Fiend of Scotland, and my self
Within my Swords length fet him, if he scape
Heaven forgive him too.

Mal. This time goes manly :
Come go we to the King, our Power is ready,
Our lack is nothing but our leave. Macbeth
Is ripe for flaking, and the Powers above
Put on their Infrumments: Receive what cheer you may,
The Night is long that never finds the Day.
Exeunt.

Actus Quintus. Scena Prima.

Enter a Doctor of Physick, and a waiting
Gentlewoman.

Dolt. I have two Nights watch'd with you, but can
perceive no truth in your report. When was it she laft
walk'd?

Gent. Since his Majefty went into the Field, I have
feen her rife from her bed, throw her Night-Gown up-
on her, unlock her Clofet, take forth Paper, fold it,
write upon't, read it, afterwards feal it, and again re-
turn to bed; yet all this while in a moft faft fleep.

Dolt. A great perturbation in Nature, to receive at
once the benefit of fleep and do the effects of watching.
In this flumbry agitation, befides her walking, and other
actual performances, what (at any time) have you heard
her fay?

Gent. That Sir, which I will not report after her.

Dolt. You may to me, and 'tis moft meet you should.

Gent. Neither to you, nor any one, having no witneſs
to confirm my ſpeech. Enter Lady with a Taper.
Lo you, here ſhe comes: This is her very guile, and up-
on my life ſaft aſleep; obſerve her, ſtand cloſe.

Dolt. How came ſhe by that light?

Gent. Why it ſood by her: ſhe has light by her con-
tinually, 'tis her command.

Dolt. You fee her eyes are open.

Gent. I but their ſenſe are flut.

Dolt. What is it ſhe do's now?

Look how ſhe rubbs her hands.

Gent. It is an accuſom'd action with her, to feem
thus waſhing her hands: I have known her continue
this a quarter of an hour.

Lad. Yet here's a ſpot.

Dolt. Heark, ſhe ſpeaks, I will fet down what comes
from her, to ſatisſe my remembrance the more ſtrongly.

La. Out damned ſpot: out I fay. One: Two: Why
then 'tis time to do't: Hell is murky. Fie, my Lord, ſie,
a Souldier, and aſcar'd? what need we fear? who knows
it, when none can call our power to account: yet who

would have thought the old man to have had ſo much
bloud in him.

Dolt. Do you mark that?

Lad. The Thane of Fife, had a wife: where is ſhe now?
What will theſe hands ne're be clean? No more o' that
my Lord, no more o' that: you marre all with flar-
ting.

Dolt. Goto, go to :

You have known what you ſhould not.

Gent. She has ſpoke what ſhe ſhould not, I am ſure
of that: Heaven knows what ſhe has known.

La. Here's the ſmell of bloud ſtill: all the perfumes
of Arabia will not sweeten this little hand.
Oh, oh, oh.

Dolt. What a ſigh is there? The heart is forely charg'd.

Gent. I would not have ſuch a heart in my boſome, for
dignity of the whole body.

Dolt. Well, well, well.

Gent. Pray God it be Sir.

Dolt. This diſeafe is beyond my præſtife: yet I have
known that ſo which have walkt in their ſleep, who have
dyed holyly in their beds.

Lad. Waſh your hands, put on your Night-Gowne,
look not so pale: I tell you yet again Banquo's buried;
he cannot come out on's grave.

Dolt. Even fo?

Lady. To bed, to bed: there's knocking at the Gate:
Come, come, come, come, give me your hand: What's
done, cannot be undone. To bed, to bed, to bed.

Exit Lady.

Dolt. Will ſhe go now to bed ?

Gent. Direſtly.

Dolt. Foul whifp'ringes are abroad: unnatural deeds

Do breed unnatural troubles: inſected minds

To their deaf pillows will diſcharge their ſecrets:

More needs ſhe the Divine, then the Phyſician :

God, God forgive us all. Look after her,

Remove from her the means of all annoyance,

And ſtill keep eyes upon her: So good night:

My mind ſhe has mated, and amaz'd my fight.

I think, but dare not ſpeak.

Gent. Good night good Doctor.

Exeunt.

Scena Secunda.

Drum and Colours. Enter Menteth, Cathnes,
Angus, Lenox, Souldiers.

Men. The English power is near, led on by Malcolm,
His Uncle Seyward, and the good Macduff.

Revenges burn in them: for their dear cautions
Excite the mortified man.

Ang. Neer Byrnam wood

Shall we meet them, that way are they coming.

Cath. Who knows if Donalbaine be with his brother?

Lenox. For certain Sir, he is not: I have a File
Of all the Gentry; there is Seyward's Son,
And many unruff Youths, that even now
Proſect their firſt of Manhood.

Ment. What do's the Tyrant.

Cath. Great Dunſinane he strongly Fortifies,
Some ſay he's mad: Others, that leſer hates him,
Do call it valiant Fury, but for certain

He

730

The Tragedy of HAMLET,
Prince of Denmark.

Actus Primus. Scena Prima.

Enter Barnardo and Francifco, two Centinels.

Barnardo,

Ho's there?

Fran. Nay anfwer me : Stand and unfold
your self,

Bar. Long live the King.

Fran. Barnardo?

Bar. He.

Fran. You come moft chearfully upon your hour.

Bar. 'Tis now truck twelve get thee to Bed Francifco.

Fran. For this relief much thanks : 'tis bitter cold,
And I am fick at heart.

Bar. Have you had quiet Guard ?

Fran. Not a Moufe flirring.

Barn. Well, goodnight. If you do meet Horatio and Marcellus, the Rivals of my Watch, bid them make haſt.

Enter Horatio and Marcellus.

Fran. I think I hear them. Stand who's there?

Hor. Friends to this ground.

Mar. And Liege-men to the Dane.

Fran. Give you good night.

Mar. O farewel honſt Souldier, who hath relieſd you?

Fran. Barnardo has my place: give you good night.

Exit Francifco.

Mar. Holla Barnardo.

Bar. Say, what is Horatio there ?

Hor. A piece of him.

Bar. Welcome Horatio, welcome good Marcellus.

Mar. What, has this thing appear'd again to night.

Bar. I have been nothing.

Mar. Horatio fayes, 'tis but our phantafic,

And will not let belief take hold of him

Touching this dreaded fight, twice seen of us,
Therefore I have intreated him along

With us, to watch the minutes of this night,

That if again this Apparition come,

He may approve our eyes, and ſpeak to it.

Hor. Tuff, tuff, 'twill not appear.

Bar. Sit down a while,

And let us once again affront your eares,
That are ſo fortified against our ſtory,

What we two nights have ſeen.

Hor. Well, fit we down,

And let us hear Barnardo ſpeak of this.

Bar. Last night of all,

When your fame Star, that's well ſward from the Pole
Had made his courfe till ſume that part of heaven.

Where now it burns, Marcellus and my ſelf,

The Bell then beating one.

Mar. Peace, break thee off :

Enter the Ghoſt.

Look where it comes again,

Bar. In the fame figure like the King that's dead,

Mar. Thou art a Scholler ; ſpeak to it Horatio.

Bar. Looks it not like the King? Mark it Horatio.

Hor. Moſt like : It harrows me with fear and wonder

Bar. It would be ſpoke to.

Mar. Question it Horatio.

Hor. What art thou that upurſe this time of night,

Together with that fair and warlike former

In which the Majorſy of buried Denmark.

Did ſometimes march : By heaven I charge thee ſpeak.

Mar. It is offended.

Bar. See, it ſtalks away.

Hor. Stay : ſpeak ; ſpeak : I charge thee, ſpeak.

Exit Ghoſt.

Mar. 'Tis gone, and will not anſwer.

Bar. How now Horatio? You tremble and look pale:

Is not this ſomething more then fantafic?

What think you on't ?

Hor. Before my God I might not this believe

Without the ſenſible and true avouch

Of mine own eyes.

Mar. Is it not like the King ?

Hor. As thou art to thy ſelf,

Such was the Armor he had on,

When 'tambitious Norway combatted :

So froud he once, when in an angry parle

He ſmot the fledded Polax on the Ice.

'Tis ſtrange.

Mar. Thus twice before, and juſt at this fame hour,
With Martial ſtalk, hath he gone by our Watch.

Hor. In what particular thought to work, I know not

But in the groſſe and ſcope of my opinion,

This boads ſome ſtrange eruption to our State.

Mar. Good now fit down, and tell me he that knows
Why this fame ſtrict and moſt obſervant Watch,

So nightly toils the ſubject of the Land,

And why ſuch daily caſt of Bragon Cannon

And forſraign Mart for Implements of War :

Why ſuch imprefſe of Shipwrights, whoſe ſore Task

Do'st not divide the Sunday from the week,

What might be toward, that this ſweaty haſt

Doth make the night joynſt-laborour with the day:

Who ist that can informe me ?

Hor. That can I,

At

The Tragedy of Hamlet.

You told us of fome fuit. What is't *Laertes* ?
You cannot speak of Reafon to the *Dane*,
And loofe your voice. What would'ft thou beg, *Laertes*,
That fhall not be my Offer, not thy Asking ?
The head is not more Native to the heart,
The hand more instrumental to the mouth,
Then is the Throre of *Denmark* to thy father,
What would'ft thou have *Laertes* ?

*Laer.* Dread my Lord,

Your leave and favour to return to France.
From whence, though willingly I came to *Denmark*.
To flew my duty in your Coronation,
Yet now I muſt conſeſſe, that duty done,
My thoughts and wills bend again towards *France*,
And bow them to your gracious leave and pardon,
*King*. Have you your Fathers leave ?

What layes *Polonius*.

*Pol.* He hath my Lord :

I do beſeeth you give him leave to go.
*King.* Take thy fair hour, *Laertes*, time be thine,
And thy beſt graces ſpend it at thy will :
But now my Cofin *Hamlet*, and my Son ?

*Ham.* A little more then kin, and leſſe then kind.

*King.* How is it that the Clouds ſtill hang on you ?

*Ham.* No, to my Lord, I am too much i'ch'Sun,
*Que.* Good *Hamlet* caſt thy nightly colour off,

And let thine eye look like a Friend on *Denmark*.

Do not for ever with thy veiled lids

*Seek for thy Noble Father in the duſt ;*

Thow know it ? 'tis common, all that live muſt die,
Paffing through Nature, to Eternity.

*Ham.* I Madam, it is common.

*Queen.* If it be ;

Why teems it ſo particular with thee.

*Ham.* Seems Madam ? Nay, it is : I know not Seems:

'Tis not alone my Inky Cloak (good Mother)

Nor Cuffinary ſuits of follemine Black,
Nor windy ſupſpiration of ſore'd breath,
No, nor the fruitfull River in the Eye,
Nor the dejected haviour of the Village,
Together with all Formes, Moods, ſhews of Grief,
That can denote me truly. Theſe indeed ſeem,
For they are actions that a man might play :
But I have that Within, which paffeth ſhow :
Theſe, but the Trappings, and the Suits of woe,
King. 'Tis sweet and commendable

In your Nature *Hamlet*,

To give theſe mourning duties to your Father :
But you muſt know, your father loft a father,
That father loft, loft his, and the Surviver bound
In filial Obligation, for ſome terme

To do obſequious Sorrow: But to perſever

In obſtinate Condelement, is a courſe
Of impious ſtubbornneſſe. 'Tis unmanly grief,

It ſhews a will moſt incorrect to Heaven,

A heart unfortiſed, a mind impatient,

An Understanding ſimple, and unſchool'd :

For, what we know muſt be, and is as common
As any the moſt vulgar thing to fence,

Why should we in our peeviſh Oppofition
Take it to heart ? ſie, 'tis a fault to heaven,
A fault againſt the Dead, a fault to Nature,
To Reaſon moſt abſut'd, whose common theam
Is death of Fathers, and who ſtill hath cried,
From the fiſt Coarſe, till he that died to day,
This muſt be ſo. We pray you throw to earth

This unp prevailing woe, and think of us,
As of a Father ; For let the world take note,
You are the moſt immediate to our Throre,
And with no leſſe Nobility of Love,
Then that which deareſt Father bears his Son,
Do I impart towards you. For your intent
In going back to School in *Wittenberg*,

It is moſt retrogarde to our deſire :
And we beſeeth you, bend you to remain
Here in the cheer and comfort of our eye,
Our chiefest Courtier Cofin, and our Son.

*Que.* Let not thy Mother loſe her Prayers *Hamlet* :
I prethee stay with us, go not to *Wittenberg*.

*Ham.* I ſhall in all my beſt

Obey you Madam,

*King.* Why 'tis a loving, and a fair Reply,
Be as our ſelf in *Denmark*. Madam come,
This gentle and unfor'd accord of *Hamlet*
Sits smiling to my heart, in grace whereof,
No jocund health that *Denmark* drinks to day,
But the great Cannon to the Clouds ſhall tell,
And the Kings Route, the heavens ſhall bruit again,
Reſpeaking earthly Thunder. Come away.
Exeunt.

*Manet Hamlet,*

*Ham.* Oh that this too ſolid Fleſh, would melt,
Thaw, and refolve it ſelf into a Dew :
Or that the Everlafing had not fixt
His Cannon 'gainſt ſelf ſlaught er, O God, O God?
How weary, ſtale, flat, and unprofitable
Seems to me all the uſes of this world ?
Fie on't ? Oh ſie, 'tis an unweeded Garden
That grows to Seed : things rank, and groſſe in Nature
Poffeſſe it meerly. That it ſhould come to this:
But two months dead: Nay, not ſo much; not two,
So excellent a King, that was to this

By what it ſed on; and yet within a month ?

Let me not think on't: Frailty, thy name is woman :

A little Month, or ere theſe ſhoos were old,

With which ſhe followed my poor Fathers body
Like *Niobe*, all tears. Why ſhe, even ſhe,

(O heaven ! A beaſt that wants diſcourſe of Reaſon
Would have mourn'd longer) married with mine Uncle,
My fathers brother: but no more like my father,
Then I to *Hercules*. Within a Month ?

Ere yet the ſalt of moſt unrighteous tears

Had left the ſluffing of her gauled eyes,

She married. O moſt wicked ſpeed, to poſt

With ſuch dexterity to inceſſuous ſheets :

It is not, nor it cannot come to good.

But break my heart, for I muſt hold my tongue,

*Euter Horatio, Barnard, and Marcellus.*

*Hor.* Hail to your Lordship.

*Ham.* I am glad to fee you well:

*Horatio, or I do forget my ſelf.*

*Hor.* The fame my Lord,

And your poor ſervant ever.

*Ham.* Sir, my good friend,

I'le change that name with you :

And what make you from *Wittenberg*, *Horatio*?

*Marcellus.*

The Tragedy of Hamlet.

Marcellus.

Mar. My good Lord,

Ham. I am very glad to see you: good even fir,

But what in faith make you from Wittenberg.

Hor. A Truant disposition, good my Lord,

Ham. I would have your enemy fay so,

Nor shall you do mine ear that violence,

To take it truster of your own report

Againff your self. I know you are no Truant ;

But what is your affair in Elfenour ?

We'll teach you to drink deep ere you depart.

Hor. My Lord, I came to see your Fathers Funeral,

Ham. I prithee do not mock me (fellow Student)

I think it was to see my Mothers wedding.

Hor. Indeed my Lord, it followeth hard upon.

Ham. Thrift, thrift, Horatio: the Funeral Hak'd meats,
Did coldly furnish forth the Marriage tables ;

Would I had met my dearest Foe in heaven,

E're I had ever seen that day Horatio.

My father, me thinks I fee my father.

Hor. O where, my Lord ?

Ham. In my minds eye (Horatio)

Hor. I faw him once, he was a goodly King.

Ham. He was a man, take him for all in all :

I should not look upon his like again.

Hor. My Lord, I think I faw him yefternight,

Ham. Saw ? Who ?

Hor. My Lord, the King your Father.

Ham. The King my Father ?

Hor. Scaen your admiration for a while

With an attentive ear ; till I may deliver

Upon the witneffe of thefe Gentlemen,

This marvel to you,

Ham. For heavens love let me hear,

Hor. Two nights together, had thefe Gentlemen
(Marcellus and Barnardus) on their Watch
In the dead waſte and middle of the night
Been thus encountréd. A figure like your father,
Arm'd at all points exaetly, Cap a Pe,
Appears before them, and with ſollemne March
Goes flow and flately : By them thrice he walk'd,
By their oppreſt and fear ſurprized eyes,
Within his Truncheons length; whilſt they be ſtill'd

Almoſt to Jelly with the Act of fear,
Stand dumb and ſpeak not to him. This to me
In dreadfull fecrecy impart they did,
And I with them the third night kept the Watch,
Whereas they had deliver'd both in time,
Forme of the thing; each word made true and good,
The Apparition comes. I knew your Father :
Theſe hands are not more like.

Ham. But where was this ?

Mar. My Lord upon the platforme where we watcht.

Ham. Did you not ſpeak to it ?

Hor. My Lord, I did ;

But anſwer made it none: yet once me thought

It lifted up its head, and did addreſſe

It ſelf to motion, like as it would ſpeak :

But even then, the morning Cock crew loud ;

And at the found it thrunk in haſte away,

And vanifht from our fight.

Ham. 'Tis very ſtrange.

Hor. As I do live, my honorable Lord, 'tis true ;

And we did think it writ down in our duty

To let you know of it.

Ham. Indeed, indeed, firſ, but this troubles me.

Hold you the Watch to night ?

Both. We do my Lord ?

Ham. Arm'd, fay you ?

Both. Arm'd, my Lord.

Ham. From top to toe ?

Both. My Lord, from head to foot.

Ham. Then faw you not his face ?

Hor. O yes, my Lord, he wore his Beaver up ;

Ham. What, lookt he frowningly ?

Hor. A countenance more in forrow then in anger,

Ham. Pale, or red ?

Hor. Nay, very pale.

Ham. And fixt his eyes upon you ?

Hor. Moſt conſantly,

Ham. I would I had been there.

Hor. It would have much amaz'd you.

Ham. Very like, very like: ſtaid it long ?

Hor. While one with moderate haſte might tell a hun-

All. Longer, longer.

Hor. Not when I faw't.

Ham. His Beard was grifly ?

Hor. It was, I have ſeen it in his life,

A Sable Silver'd.

Ham. I'le watch to night; perchance 'twill walk again.

Hor. I warrant you it will.

Ham. If it affume my noble fathers perſon,

I'le ſpeak to it, though hell it ſelf should gape

And bid me hold my peace, I pray you all,

If you have hitherto concealed this fight ;

Let it be trebble in your ſilence ſtill :

And whatsoever eſſe shall hap to night,

Give it an understanding but no tongue ;

I will require your loves; ſo, fare ye well:

Upon the Platforme 'twixt eleven and twelve,

I'le vifit you,

All. Our duty to your Honor.

Ham. Your love, as mine to you : farewell,

My fathers ſpirit in Armes? All is not well :

I doubt ſome foul play : would the night were come ;

Till then fit fill my foul; foul deeds will rife,

Though all the earth o'rewhelm them to mens eyes, Exit

## Scena Tertia.

Enter Laertes and Ophelia.

Laer. My neceflaries are imbark'd, farewell !

And fifter, as the Winds give benefit,

And Convoy is affl assistant; do not ſleep,

But let me hear from you,

Ophe. Do you doubt that ?

Laer. For Hamlet, and the trifling of his favours,

Hold it a ſa fashion and a toy in Bloud ;

A Violet in the youth of Primy Nature ;

Forward, not permanent; ſweer, not laſting

The ſuppliance of a minute; No more.

Ophe. No more but so.

Laer. Think it no more :

For nature creſtant does not grow alone,

In thews and Bulk: but as his Temple waxes,

The inward ſervice of the mind and foul

Grows wide withall. Perhaps he loves you now,

And now no foyle nor cauett doth beſmerch

The vertue of his fear; but you muſt fear

The Tragedy of Hamlet.

734

His greatneſſe weigh'd, his will is not his own:
For he himself is ſubject to his Birth:
He may not, as unvalued perſons do,
Carve for himselfſ; for, on his choyce depends
The fanctity and health of the whole State.
And therefore muſt his choyce be circumſcrib'd
Unto the voyce and yielding of that body,
Whereof he is the head. Then if he ſayes he loves you,
It fits your wifdome so far to believe it;

As he in his peculiar Seſt and force

May give his ſaying deed: which is no further,
Then the main voice of Denmark goes withall,
Then weigh that loſſe your honor may ſuſtain,
If with two credent ear you lift his ſongs;
Or loſſe your heart; or your chaſte treaſure open
To his unmaſtred importunity.

Fear it Ophelia, fear it my dear Sifter,
And keep within the rear of your affection;
Out of the ſhot and danger of defire.

The chariſt maide is prodigal enough,
If the unmask her beauty to the Moone:

Vertue it ſelf capes not calumnious ſtoaks,

The Canker galls the infant of the Spring

Too oft before the Buttons be diſcloſ'd,

And in the morn and liquid dew of Youth,

Contagious blaſtments are moſt imminent.

Be wary then, beſt safety lies in fear;

Youth to it ſelf rebels, though none else near.

Ophe. I ſhall th' effect of this good Leſſon keep,
As watchmen to my heart: but good my Brother

Do not as ſome ungracious Paſtors do,

Slew me the ſleep and thorny way to heaven;

Whileſt like a puſt and reckleſſe Libertine

Himſelf, the Primroſe path of dalliance treads,

And reaks not his own read.

Laer. Oh, fear me not.

Enter Polonius,

I ſlay too long; but here my Father comes:

A double bleſſing is a double grace;

Occafion ſmiles upon a ſecond leave,

Polon. Yet here Laertes ? Aboard, aboard for ſhame,
The wind fits in the ſhoulder of your fail,

And you are ſtaſd for there: my bleſſing with you:

And theſe few Precepts in thy memory,

See thou Charaſter. Give thy thoughts no tongue,

Nor any unproportion'd thought his Act :

Be thou familiar, but by no means vulgar :

The friends thou haſt, and their adoption try'd,

Grapple them to thy foul, with hoops of ſeel:

But do not dull thy palm, with entertainment

Of each unhatch'd, unſledg'd Comrade. Beware

Of entrance to a quarrel: but being in

Bear't that th'opſed may beware of thee,

Give every man thine ear; but few thy voice:

Take each mans cenſure: but reſerve thy judgement:

Coſtly thy habit as thy purſe can buy;

But not expreſt in fancy; rich, not gaudy :

For the apparel oft proclaims the man.

And they in France of the beſt rank and ſation,
Are of a moſt ſeleſt and generous cheſt in that.

Neither a borrower, nor a lender be:

For Loan oft ſoles both it ſelf and friend :

A borrowing dulls the edge of Husbandry.

This above all; to thine own ſelf be true:

And it muſt follow, as the Night the Day,

Thou canſt not then be ſalſe to any man.

Farewell: my bleſſing ſeafon this in thee,

Laer. Moſt humbly do I take my leave, my Lord,

Polon. The time invites you, go, your ſervants tend,

Laer. Farewell Ophelia, and remember well

What I have faſd to you.

Ophe. 'Tis my memory lockt,

And you your ſelf ſhall keep the key of it.

Laer. Farewell,

Exit Laer.

Polon. What is't Ophelia, he ſaid to you?

Ophe. So please you, I something touching the L. Hamlet.

Polon. Marry, well bethought :

'Tis told me he hath very oft of late

Given private time to you; and you your ſelf

Have of your audience been moſt free and bounteous,

If it be ſo, as it is put on me;

And that in way of caution: I muſt tell you,

You do not understand your ſelf so clearly,

As it behooves my Daughter, and your honour.

What is between you, give me up the truth?

Ophe. He hath my Lord of late, made many tenders
of his affection to me.

Polon. Affection, pub. You ſpeak like a green Girl,
Unſiſted in ſuch perillous circumſtance.

Do you believe his tenders as you call them ?

Ophe. I do not know, my Lord, what I ſhould think.

Pol. Marry, I'll teach you; think your ſelf a Baby,
That you have tane his tenders for true pay,

Which are not ſtartling. Tender your ſelf more dearly ;

Or not to crack the wind of the poor Phraſe,

Roaming it thus, you'll tender me a fool.

Ophe. My Lord, he hath importun'd me with love,
In honorable ſashion.

Polon. I, ſaſhion you may call it, go to, go to.

Ophe. And hath given countenance to his ſpeech,
My Lord, with all the vows of heaven.

Polon. I, Springs to catch Woodcocks. I do know
When the bloud burns, how prodigal the ſoul
Gives the tongue vows: theſe blafes, daughter,
Giving more light then heat; extinet in both,
Even in their promife, as it is a making;

You muſt not take for fire. For this time Daughter,

Be ſomewhat ſcanter of your Maiden prefence,

Set your entreatments at a higher rate,

Then a command to parley. For Lord Hamlet,

Believe so much in him, that he is young,

And with a larger tether may you walk,

Then may be given you. In ſew, Ophelia,

Do not believe his vows; for they are Broakers,

Not of the eye, which their inſ vestments ſhew:

But meer implanors of unholy Suits,

Breathing like ſanctified and pious bonds,

The better to beguile. This is for all:

I would not, in plain termes, from this time forth,
Have you ſo flander any moment leisure,

As to give words or talk with the Lord Hamlet :

Look too't, I charge you; come your way.

Ophe. I ſhall obey my Lord.

Exeunt.

Enter Hamlet, Horatio, Marcellus,

Ham. The aire bites ſhrew'dly: it is very cold ?

Hor. It is a nipping and eager aire.

Ham. What hour now?

Hor. I think it lacks of twelve.

Mar. No, it ha's ſtрок.

(ſeafon,

Hor. Indeed I heard it not: then it draws near the
Wherein the Spirit held his wont to walk.

What

The Tragedy of Hamlet.

That you know ought of me; this not to do:
So grace and mercy at your moft need help you:
Swear.
Ghoſt. Swear.
Ham. Reſt, reſt perturbed Spirit: so Gentlemen,
With all my love commend me to you;
And what so poor a man as Hamlet is,
May do t'exprefſe his love and friending to you,
God willing ſhall not lack: let us go in together,
And fill your fingers on your lips I pray,
The time is out of joyt: Oh curſed ſpight,
That ever I was born to fee it right,
Nay, come, let's go together.
Exeunt.

Atus Secundus.

Enter Polonius and Reynoldo.

Pol. Give him his money, and those notes Reynoldo.
Reynol. I will my Lord.
Pol. You ſhall do marvels wifely: good Reynoldo.
Before you visit him you make inquiry
Of his behaviour.
Reynol. My Lord, I did intend it.
Polon. Marry, well faid.
Very well faid, Look you fir,
Enquire me firſt what Danskers are in Paris;
And how, and who, what means; and where they keep:
What company, at what expence: and finding
By this encompaffement and drift of queſtions,
That they do know my ſon: Come you more near
Then your particular demands will touch it,
Take you as 'twere ſome diſtant knowledge of him,
And thus, I know his father and his friends,
And in part him. Do you mark this Reynoldo?

Reynol. I, very well my Lord,
Polon. And in part him, but you may ſay not well;
But if't be he I mean, he's very wilde;
Addicted ſo and ſo; and there put on him
What forgeries you pleafe: marry, none ſo rank,
As may diſhonour him: take heed of that:
But fir, ſuch wanton, wilde, and uſual slips,
As are companions noted and moſt known
To youth and liberty.
Reynol. As gaming my Lord.
Polon. I, or drinking, fencing, ſwearings,
Quarrelling, Drabbing. You may go ſo far.
Rey. My Lord that would diſhonour him.
Polon. Faith no, as you may ſeafon it in the charge;
You muſt not put another ſcandal on him,
That he is open to Incontinency;
That's not my meaning; but breath his ſaults ſo quaintly,
That they may ſeem the taints of liberty;
The ſlash and out-break of a ſiery mind,
A favageneſſe in unreclaim'd bloud of general affaſt.
Reynol. But my good Lord,
Polon. Wherefore ſhould you do this?
Reynol. I my Lord, I would know that.
Polon. Marry fir, here's my drift,
And I believe it is a fetch of warrant:
You laying theſe flight ſulſeels on my Son,
As 'twere a thing a little ſoil'd 'th' working:
Mark you your party in converſe; him you would found,
Having ever ſeen. In the prenominate crimes,

The youth you breath of guilty, be affur'd
He cloſes with you in this conſequence:
Good fir, or ſo, or friend, or Gentleman.
According to the PRAſe and the Addition,
Of man and Country.
Reynol. Very good my Lord.
Polon. And then fir do's he this?
He do's: what was I about to ſay?
I was about to ſay nothing: where did I leave?
Reynol. At cloſes in the conſequence:
At friend, or ſo, and Gentleman.
Polon. At cloſes in the conſequence, I marry,
He cloſes with you thus, I know the Gentleman,
I ſaw him yefterday, or 'tother day;
Or then, or then, with ſuch and ſuch, and as you ſay,
There was he gaming, there o'retook in's Rouſe,
Their falling out at Tennis; or perchance,
I ſaw him enter ſuch a houſe of ſail;
Videlicet, a Brothel, or ſo forth. See you now;
Your bait of falſhood, takes this Cape of truth;
And thus do we of wifdome and of reach
With Windſeſſes, and with aſſayes of Byas,
By indirecſions find direcſions out:
So by my former Lecſure and advice
Shall you my ſon; you have me, have you not?
Reynol. My Lord, I have.
Polon. God buy you; fare you well.
Reynol. Good my Lord.
Polon. Obferve his inclinaſion in your ſelf,
Reynol. I ſhall my Lord.
Polon. And let him ply his Muſiek.
Reynol. Well, my Lord.
Exit.

Enter Ophelia.

Polon. Farewell:
How now Ophelia, what's the matter?
Ophe. Alas my Lord, I have been ſo affrighted,
Pol. With what, in the Name of Heaven?
Ophe. My Lord, as I was ſowing in my Chamber,
Lord Hamlet with his doublet all unbrac'd,
No Hat upon his head, his ſtockings ſoul'd,
Ungar'd, and down-gyved to his Ancle,
Pale as his thir, his knees knocking each other,
And with a look to pitteous in purport,
As if he had been ſoofed out of Hell,
To peake of horrors: he comes before me.
Polon. Mad for thy love?
Ophe. My Lord, I do not know: but truly I do fear it.
Polon. What faid he?
Ophe. He took me by the wrift.
Then goes he to the length of all his Arme;
And with his other hand, thus o're his brow,
He falls to ſuch perſal of my face,
As he would draw it. Long ſaid he ſo,
At laſt, a little shaking of my arme,
And thrice his head thus waving up and down,
He rais'd a ſigh, ſo hideous and profound,
That it did ſeem to ſhatter all his bulk,
And end his being. That done, he lets go,
And with his head over his shoulders turn'd,
He ſeem'd to find his way without his eyes,
For out adoors he went without their help;
And to the laſt, bended their light on me.
Polon. Go with me, I will go ſeek the King,
This is the very extaſie of Love,
Whose violent property foredoes it ſelf,
And

The Tragedy of Hamlet.

738

And leads the will to desperate Undertakings,

As oft as any palfion under heaven,

That do's afflict our Natures. I am sorry,

What have you given him any hard words of late?

*Ophe*. No my good Lord; but as you did command,

I did repell his Letters, and deny'd

His accesse to me.

*Pol.* That hath made him mad.

I am sorry that with better speed and judgement

I had not quoted him. I fear he did but trifle,

And meant to crack thee: but beʃhrew my jealousſe:

It seems it is as proper to our Age,

To caſt beyond our ſelves in our opinions,

As it is common for the younger fort

To lacke diſparation. Come go we to the King,

This muſt be known, which being kept close might move

More grief to hide, then hate to utter love.

Exeunt.

## Scena Secunda.

*Enter King, Queen, Rofincroſſe, and Guil- denſtare cum alis.*

*King.* Welcome dear Rofincroſſ and Guildenſtare.

Morcover, that we much did long to fee you,

The need we have to uſe you, did provoke

Our haſty fending. Something have you heard

Of Hamlets transformation: ſo I call it,

Since not th'exterior, nor the inward man

Reſembles that it was. What it ſhould he

More then his ſathers death, that thus hath put him

So much from th'underſtanding of himſelf,

I cannot deem of. I intreat you both,

That being of ſo young dayes brought up with him:

And ſince of Neighbour'd to his youth, and humor,

That you vouchſaſe your reſt here in our Court

Some little time: ſo by your Companies

To draw him on to pleatures, and to gather

So much as from Occafions you may glean,

That open'd lics within our remedy,

*Qu.* Good Gentlemen, he hath much talk'd of you,
And ſure I am, two men there are not living,
To whom he more adheres. If it will pleafe you
To ſhow us ſo much gentry and good will,
As to expend your time with us a while,
For the ſupply and profit of our hope,
Your Vifitation ſhall receive ſuch thanks,
As fits a Kings remembrance.

*Rofin.* Both your Majeftries

Might by the Soveraign power you have of us,

Put your dread pleatures, more into command

Then to Entreaty.

*Guil.* We both obey,

And here give up our ſelves, in the full bent,

To lay our ſervices freely at your feet,

To be commanded.

*King.* Thanks Rofincroſſ, and gentle Guildenſtare.

*Que.* Thanks Guildenſtare and gentle Rofincroſſ,

And I beſeech you infantly to visit

My too-much changed ſon.

Go ſome of ye,

And bring the Gentlemen where Hamlet is,

*Guil.* Heavens make our prefence and our practifes,

Pleasant and helpfull to him.

Exeunt.

*Queen. Amen.*

*Enter Polonius.*

*Pol.* The Ambaſſadors from Norway, my good Lord,
Are joyfully return'd.

*King.* Thou ſtill haſt been the father of good News,

*Pol.* Have I, my Lord? Aflure you, my good Liege,
I hold my duty, as I hold my ſoul,

Both to my God, one to my gracious King:

And I do think, or eſſe this brain of mine

Hunts not the trail of Policy, ſo be ſure

As I have us'd to do, that I have found

The very cauſe of Hamlets Lunacy.

*King.* O peak of that, that I do long to hear.

*Pol.* Give firſt admittance to th'Ambaſſadors,

My News ſhall be the News to that great Feaſt.

*King.* Thy ſelf do grace to them, and bring them in.

He tells me my ſweet Queen, that he hath found

The head and fourſe of all your ſons diſtemper.

*Qu.* I doubt it is no other, but the main,
His fathers death, and our o'le-haſty Marriage.

*Enter Polonius, Voltimand, and Cornelius.*

*King.* Well, we ſhall lift him. Welcome good Friends:
Say Voltimand, what from our Brother Norway?

*Volt.* My ſoſt fair return of Greetings, and Deſires,

Upon our firſt, he ſent out to ſuppereſſe

His Nephews Levies, which to him appear'd

To be a preparation 'gainſt the Polak:

But better look'd into, he truly found

It was againſt your Highneſſe, whereat grieved,

That ſo his Sickneſſe, Age, and Impotence

Was falſely born in hand, ſends out Arreſts

On Fortinbras, which he (in brief) obeys,

Receives rebuke from Norway: and in fine,

Makes Vow before his Uncle, never more

To give th'affay of armses againſt your Majeſty.

Whereon old Norway, overcome with joy,

Gives him three thouſand Cronwes in annual Fee,

And his commiffion to imploy thofe Souldiers

So levied as before, againſt the Polak:

With an intreaty herein further ſhewn,

That it might pleafe you to give quiet paffe

Through your Dominions for his enterprize.

On ſuch regards of safety and allowance,

As therein are ſet down.

*King.* It likes us well:

And at our more confider'd time we'll read,

Anſwer, and think upon this Bufineſſe.

Mean time we thank you, for your well-look't labor.

Go to your reſt, at night we'll Feaſt together.

My ſoſt welcome home.

*Exit Ambaf.*

*Pol.* This bufineſſe is very well ended.

My Liege and Madam, to expoſtulate

What Majcſty should be, what Duty is,

Why day is day; night, night; and time is time,

Were nothing but to wafe Night, Day, and Time.

Therefore, ſince Brevity is the foul of Wit,

And tediousneſſe, the limbs and outward flourifhes,

I will be brief. Your Noble Son is mad:

Mad call I it; ſor to define true Madneſſe,

What is't, but to be nothing eſſe but mad.

But let that go.

*Qu.* More matter, with leſſe Art.

*Pol.* Madam, I ſwear I uſe no Art at all:

That he is mad 'tis true: 'Tis true, 'tis pitſy,

And pitſy it is true: A fooliſh figure,

But farewell it: ſor I will uſe no Art.

Mad

The Tragedy of Hamlet.

739

Mad let us grant him then: and now remains

That we find out the caufe of this effect,

Or rather say, the cause of this defect ;

For this effect defective, comes by cause,

Thus it remaines, and the remainder thus. Perpend.

I have a Daughter : have, whilst it she is mine,

Who in her Duty and Obedience, marke,

Hath given me this : now gather, and furmife.

The Letter.

To the Celestial, and my Soules Idol, the most beautified Ophelia.

That's an ill Phraſe, a vilde Phraſe, beautified is a vilde
Phraſe : but you shall hear theſe in her excellent white
boſome, theſe.

Quee. Came this from Hamlet to her.

Pol. Good Madam ſtay awhile, I will be faithfull,

Doubt thou, the Starres are fire,

Doubt, that the Sun doth move :

Doubt Truth to be a Lyar,

But never Doubt, I love.

O dear Ophelia, I am ill at theſe Numbers : I have not
Art to reckon my groanes ; but that I love thee beſt, oh
moſt Beſt believe it. Adieu.

Thine evermore, moſt dear Lady, whilſt this
Machine is to him, Hamlet.

This in Obedience hath my Daughter ſhew'd me :

And more above hath his ſoliciting,

As they fell out by Time, by meanes, and place,

All given to mine ear.

King. But how hath the receiv'd his Love ?

Pol. What doe you think of me ?

King. As of a man, faithfull and honourable.

Pol. I would fain prove ſo. But what might you think?

When I had ſeen his hot love on the wing,

As I perceived it, I muſt tell you that

Before my Daughter told me, what might you

Or my dear Majefty your Queen here, think,

If I had play'd the Deske or Table-book,

Or given my heart a winking, mute and dumbe,

Or look'd upon this Love, with idle fight,

What might you think ? No, I went round to work,

And my young Miftris thus I did beſpeak ;

Lord Hamlet is a Prince out of thy Sphere,

This muſt not be : and then, I precepts gave her,

That he ſhould lock her ſelf from his Refort,

Admit no Meffengers, receive no Tokens :

Which done, he took the fruits of my Advice,

And he repuſſed, a ſhort Tale to make,

Fall into a Sadneſſe, then into a Faſt,

Thence to a Watch, thence into a Weakneſſe,

Thence to a Lightneſſe, and by this declenſion

Into the Madneſſe whereon now he raves,

And all we waile for.

King. Doe you think 'tis this ?

Quee. It may be very likely.

Pol. Hath there been ſuch a time, I'd fain know that,

That I have positively ſaid, 'tis ſo,

When it prov'd otherwife ?

King. Not that I know.

Pol. Take this from this, if this be otherwife,

If Circumſtances lead me, I will find

Where truth is hid, though it were hid indeed

Within the Center.

King. How may we try it further ?

Pol. You know ſometimes

In the Lobby.

Quee. So he has indeed.

Pol. At ſuch a time I'll loose my Daughter to him,
Be you and I behind an Arras then,

Marke the encounter : If he love her not,

And be not from his reaſon ſaln thereon ;

Let me be no Aſtiftant for a State,

And keep a Farme and Carters,

King. We will try it.

Enter Hamlet reading on a Book.

Quee. But look where fadly the poor wretch

Comes reading.

Pol. Away I doe beſeech you, both away,

I'le boord him prefently.

Exit King and Queen.

Oh give me leave. How does my good Lord Hamlet ?

Ham. Well, god-a-mercy.

Pol. Doe you know me, my Lord ?

Ham. Excellent; excellent well: y'are a Fifeſmonger.

Pol. Not I, my Lord.

Ham. Then I would you were ſo honeſt a man.

Pol. Honeſt, my Lord ?

Ham. I, Sir, to be honeſt as this world goes, is to be
one pick'd out of two thouſand,

Pol. That's very true, my Lord.

Ham. For if the Sun breed Maggots in a dead Dog,
being a good killing Carrion—

Have you a Daughter ?

Pol. I have, my Lord.

Ham. Let her not walk ith' Sun: Conception is a
bleſſing, but not as your Daughter may conceive. Friend
look too't.

Pol. How ſay you by that? Still harping on my Daugh-
ter : yet he knew me not at first; he laid I was a Fifeſmon-
ger : he is far gone, far gone: and truly in my youth, I
ſuffered much extremity for love: very near this. Ile
ſpeak to him again. What doe you read, my Lord ?

Ham. Words, words, words.

Pol. What is the matter, my Lord ?

Ham. Between whom ?

Pol. I mean the matter you mean, my Lord.

Ham. Slanders, Sir : for the Satyricall ſtave ſayes here,
that old men have gray Beards ; that their faces are wrinkled ;
their eyes purging thick Amber, or Plum-Tree
Gumme: and that they have a plentifull lock of Wit,
together with weak Hammes. All which, Sir, though I
moſt powerfully, and potently believe, yet I hold it not
Honeſty to have it thus ſet down : For you your ſelf,
Sir, should be old as I am, if like a Crab you could go
backward.

Pol. Though this be madneſſe.

Yet there is Method in't : will you waile

Out of the ayre, my Lord ?

Ham. Into my Grave ?

Pol. Indeed that is out oth' Ayre :

How pregnant (f sometimes) his replies are ?

A happineſſe,

That often Madneſſe hits on,

Which Reaſon and Sanity could not

So prosperouſly be deliver'd of.

I will leave him,

And ſuddenly contrive the meanes of meeting

Between him, and my Daughter.

My honourable Lord, I will moſt humbly

Take my leave of you.

Rrr

Ham.

The Tragedy of Hamlet.

Ham. You cannot, Sir, take from me any thing, that I will more willingly part withall, except my life, my life.

Polon. Fare you well, my Lord.

Ham. These tedious old fools.

Polon. You go to seek my Lord Hamlet; there he is.

Enter Rofincros and Guildenstar.

Rofin. God fave you, Sir.

Guild. Mine honour'd Lord ?

Rofin. My moft dear Lord ?

Ham. My excellent good friends ? How doft thou Guildenstar ? Oh, Rofincros, good Lads : How doe ye both ?

Rofin. As the indifferent Children of the earth.

Guild. Happy, in that we are not over-happy : on Fortunes Cap, we are not the very Button.

Ham. Nor the Soales of her Shooe ?

Rofin. Neither, my Lord.

Ham. Then you live about her waſſe, or in the middle of her favour ?

Guild. Faith, her privates we.

Ham. In the ſecret parts of Fortune ? Oh, moſt true : ſhe is a Strumpet. What's the newes.

Rofin. None, my Lord, but that the World's grown honeft.

Ham. Then is Doomes day near : but your newes is not true. Let me question more in particular : what have you, my good friends, deferved at the hands of fortune, that the fends you to pifon hither ?

Guild. Prifon, my Lord ?

Ham. Denmark's a Prifon.

Rofin. Then is the World one,

Ham. A goodly one, in which there are many Confines, Wards, and Dungeons; Denmark being one o' th' workt.

Rofin. We think not so, my Lord.

Ham. Why then 'tis none to you; for there is nothing either good or bad, but thinking makes it ſo: to me it is a prifon.

Rofin. Why then your Ambition makes it one: 'tis too narrow for your minde.

Ham. O God, I could be bounded in a Nut-shell, and count my ſelf a King of infinite ſpace; were it not that I have bad dreaemes.

Guild. Which dreaemes indeed are Ambition : for the very ſubſtance of the Ambitious, is neerly the ſhadow of a Dreaše.

Ham. A dreaše it ſelf is but a ſhadow.

Rofin. Truly, and I hold Ambition of ſo. airy and light a quality, that it is but a ſhadowes ſhadow.

Ham. Then are our Beggars bodies; and our Monarchs, and our ſtretcht Heroes, the Beggars ſhadowes: ſhall we to th' Court : for, by my ſey I cannot reaſon ?

Both. We'll wait upon you.

Ham. No ſuch matter. I will not fort you with the reſt of my ſervants : for to ſpeak to you like an honeft man : I am moſt dreadfully attended; but in the beaten way of friendſhip. What make you at Elſinaore ?

Rofin. To visit you, my Lord, no other occafion.

Ham. Beggar that I am, I am even poor in thanks; but I thank you: and ſure, dear friends, my thanks are too dear a halfpenny; were you not ſent for ? Is it your own inclining ? Is it a free viſitation ? Come,

deale juſtly with me: come, come; nay ſpeak.

Guild. What ſhould we ſay, my Lord ?

Ham. Why any thing. But to the purpofe; you were ſent for; and there is a kind of conſeſſion in your looks; which your modeſties have not craft enough to colour, I know the good King and Queen have ſent for you.

Rofin. To what end, my Lord ?

Ham. That you muſt teach me: but let me conjure you by the rights of your fellowſhip, by the conſonancy of our youth, by the obligation of our ever-preſerwed love, and by what more dear, a better propoſer could charge you withall; be even and direct with me, whether you were ſent for or no.

Rofin. What ſay you ?

Ham. Nay then I have an eye of you: if you love me, hold not off.

Guild. My Lord, we were ſent for.

Ham. I will tell you why; ſo ſhall my anticipation prevent your diſcovery of your ſecrecy to the King and Queen: moult no feather, I have of late, but wherefore I know not, loft all my mirſt, forgone all cuſtome of excerſe; and indeed, it goes ſo heavenly with my diſpoſiſion; that this goodly frame, the earth, ſeems to me a ſteril Promontory; this moſt excellent Canopy the Ayre look you this brave o're-hanging, this Majeficall Roof, fretted with golden fire; why, it appeared no other thing to me, then a foule and peſtilent congregation of vapours. What a piece of work is a man! How Noble in Reaſon ? how infinite in ſacuſity ? in ſo me and moving how expreſſe and admirable? in Action, how like an Angel ? in apprehenſion, how like a god ? the beauty of the world, the Parragon of Animals; und yet to me, what is this Quinteſſence of Duſt ? Man delights not me; no, nor Woman neither, though by your ſmiling you ſeem to ſay ſo.

Rofin. My Lord, there was no ſuch ſtuffe in my thoughts.

Ham. Why did you laugh, when I faid, Man delights not me ?

Rofin. To think my Lord, if you delight not in Man, what Lenton entertainment the Players ſhall receive from you: we coated them on the way, and hither are they comming to offer you Service.

Ham. He that playes the King ſhall be welcome; his Majefty shall have Tribute of me: the adventurous Knight ſhall uſe his Foyle and Target: The Lover ſhall not ſigh gratis, the humorous man ſhall end his part in peace: the Clown ſhall make thate laugh, whose lungs are tickled ath' ſere: and the Lady ſhall ſay her mind freely; or the blank Verſe ſhall halt for't: what Players are they ?

Rofin. Even thate you were want to take delight in the Tragedians of the City.

Ham. How chances it they travell ? their refiſe dence both in reputation and profit was better both wayes.

Rofin. I think their Inhibition comes by the means of the late innovation ?

Ham. Doe they hold the fame eſtimation they did when I was in the City ? Are they ſo follow'd ?

Rofin. No indeed, they are not.

Ham. How comes it ? doe they grow rufy ?

Rofin. Nay, their endeavours keeps in the wonted pace; But there is, Sir, an airy of Children, little Yafes, that cry out on the top of question; and are moſt tyrannically clapt for't: there are now the fashion,

The Tragedy of Hamlet.

741

fashion, and so be-rattle the common Stages (to they call them) that many wearing Rapiers, are afraid of Goofe Quills, and dare ferre, come thither.

*Ham.* What are they Children ? Who maintains ? en? How are they egrafed ? Will they pursue the Quality no longer then they can ling ? Will they not say afterwards if they should grow themselves to common Players (as it is like most if their means are no better) their Writers doe them wrong to make them exclaim against their own Succession.

*Rosin.* Faith there has been much to do on both fides: and the Nation holds it no fin, to tarre them to controversial. There was for a while, no money bid for argument, unleſſe the Poet and the Player went to Cuffes in the Quſtion.

*Ham.* Is't possible ?

*Guild.* Oh there has been much throwing about of brains.

*Ham.* Doe the Boyes carry it away ?

*Rosin.* I that they doe my Lord, *Hercules* & his load too.

*Ham.* It is not strange for mine Unkle is King of Denmark, and that would make mowes at him while my Father lived; give twenty, forty, an hundred Ducates a piece, for his picture in Little. There is something in this more then Naturall, if Philosophy could find it out.

*Florish for the Players.*

*Gild.* There are the Players.

*Ham.* Gentlemen, you are welcome to Elfinoore: your hands, come: The appurtenance of Welcome, is Fashion and Ceremony. Let me comply with you in the Garbe, left my extent to the Players (which I tell you must then fairely outward) should more appear like entertainment then yours. You are welcome: but my Unkle Father, and Aunt Mother are deceiv'd.

*Guild.* In what, my dear Lord ?

*Ham.* I am but mad North, North-West: when the Wind is Southerly, I know a Hawke from a Handfaw.

*Enter Polonius.*

*Pol.* Well, be with you, Gentlemen,

*Ham.* Heark you *Guildenſtar*, and you too : at each ear a hearer : that great Baby you fee there, is not yet out of his (wathing) clounds.

*Rosin.* Happily he's the ſecond time come to them: for they ſay, an old man is twice a child.

*Ham.* I will Propheſe, He comes to tell me of the Players. Mark it, you ſay right, Sir: for a Munday morning twas ſo indeed.

*Pol.* My Lord, I have newes to tell you,

*Ham.* My Lord, I have newes to tell you,

*When Roscius an Actor in Rèmè.*

*Pol.* The Actors are come hither, my Lord.

*Ham.* Buzz, buzz.

*Pol.* Upon mine honour.

*Ham.* Then can each Actor on his Aſſe—

*Pol.* The beſt Actors in the world, either for Tragedy, Comedy, Hiftory, Paſtorall, & Paſtoricall-Comicalall-Hiftoricall-Paſtorall: Tragicall-Hiftoricall; Tragicall-Comicalall-Hiftoricall-Paſtorall: Scène indivible, or Poem unlimited. Seneca cannot be too heavy, nor Plantus too light, for the law of Writ, and the Liberty. These are the only men.

*Ham.* O *Jephtha*, Judge of Israel, what a Treasure had I thou?

*Pol.* What a Treasure had he, my Lord ?

*Ham.* Why one fair Daughter, and no more.

The which he loved paffing well.

*Pol.* Still on my Daughter.

*Ham.* Am I not ith' right, old *Jephtha* ?

*Pol.* If you call me *Jephtha*, my Lord, I have a Daugh-
ter that I love paffing well,

*Ham.* Nay that followes not.

*Pol.* What followes then, my Lord ?

*Ham.* Why, as by lot, God wot? and then you know, It came to paffe, as moſt like it was: the first row of the Pans Chanſon will then you more. For look where my ABRidgements come.

*Enter four or five Players.*

Y'are welcome Maſters, welcome all. I am glad to fee thee well ; welcome good friends. Oh my old friend ? Thy face is valiant ſince I faw thee laſt: Com't thou to beard me in *Denmark* ? what my young Lady and Mifris? Berlady your Lordſhip is nearer heaven, then when I faw you laſt, by the altitude of a Choppine. Pray God your voyce, like a piece of uncurrant gold, be not crack'd within the Ring. Maſters, you are all welcome : we'll e're to't like *French* Faulconers, flye at any thing we fee; we'll have a ſpeech ſtraight. Come, give us a taſte of your quality: come, a paffionate ſpeech.

1. *Play.* What ſpeech, my Lord ?

*Ham.* I heard thee ſpeak me a ſpeech once, but it was never Acted: or if it was, not above once, for the Play I remember pleas'd not the Million, 'twas *Cautary* to the Generall: but it was (as I received it, and others, whoſe judgement in ſuch matters, cryed in the top of mine) an excellent Play ; well digeſted in the Scenes, ſet down with as much modeſtly, as cunning. I remember one ſaid, there was no Sallets in the lines, to make the matter ſavoury ; nor no matter in the phraſe, that might indite the Author of affectation, but call'd it an honest method. One chief ſpeech in it, I chiefly lov'd, 'twas Æneas Tale to *Dido*, and thereabout of it eſpecially, where he ſpeaks of *Priams* ſlaughter. If it live in your memory, begin at this Line, let me fee, let me ſee: The rugged *Pyrrhus*, like the *Hyrcanian* Beaſt. It is not ſo: it begins with *Pyrrhus*.

The rugged *Pyrrhus*, he whoſe Sable Armes Black as he purpofe, did the night reſemble When his lay couched in the Ominous Horſe, Hath now this dread and black Complexion ſinear'd With Heraldry more diſmall: head to foot Now is he to take Geules, horribly Trick'd With blood of Fathers, Mothers, Daughters, Sons, Bak'd and impaſted, with the parching streets, That lend a tyrannous, and damned light To their vilde Murthers, roaſted in wrath and fire, And thus o'reſized with coagulate gore, With eyes like Carbuncles, the helliſh *Pyrrhus* Old Grandſire *Priam* ſeeks.

*Pol.* Fore God, my Lord, well ſpoken, with good ac-
cent, and good diſcretion.

1. *Play.* Anon he findes him,

Striking too ſhort at Greeks. His antick Sword, Rebellious to his Arme, lies where it falls Repugnant to command: unequal match, *Pyrrhus* at *Priam* drives, in rage ſtrikes wide: But with the whiffe and winde of his fell Sword, Th'unnerved father falls. Then ſentefleſſe Illium, Seeming to feele his blow, with flaming top Stoops to his Bace, and with a hideous craft Takes Prifoner *Pyrrhus* care. For loe, his Sword Which was declining on the Milky head Of Reverend *Priam*, ſeem'd ith' Aire to ſick:

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The Tragedy of Hamlet.

742

So as a Tirant Pyrrhus tood,
And lik'd a Newtrall to his will and matter, did nothing.
But as we often fee againft fome ſtorme,
A ſilence in the heavens, the Rack ſtand ſtill,
The bold windes ſpeechleſſe, and the Oiobe below
As hufh as death: Anon the dreadfull Thunder
Doth rend the Region. So after Pyrrhus pawſe,
A rowſed Vengeance fets him newa work,
And never did the Cyclops hammers fall
On Mars his Armours, ſorg'd for proof Eterne,
With leſſe ſenrorre then Pyrrhus bleeding ſword
Now falls on Priam,
Out, out, thou Strumpet-Fortune, all you gods,
In generall Synod take away her power:
Break all the Spokes and Fallies from her wheelc,
And bowle the round Nave down the hill of heaven.
As low as to the friends.

Pol. This is two long.

Ham. It ſhall to th' Barbers with your Beard. Prethee ſay on: He's for a Jigge, or a tale of Bawdry, or he ſleeps. Say on; come to Hecuba.

1. Play. But who, O who, had ſeen the Mobled Queen.
   Ham. The Mobled Queen ?

Pol. That's good: Mobled Queen is good,

1. Play. Run bare-foot up and down,
Threating the flame

With Biflon Rheume : a clout about that head,
VVhere late the Diadem ſlood, and for a Robe
About her lank and all o're-teamed Loynes,
A Blanket in th'alarum of fear caught up.

VVho this had ſeen, with tongue in Venome ſleep'd,
Gainſt fortunes State, would Treason have ſonounc'd

But if the gods themſelues did fee her then,
VVhen ſhe ſaw Pyrrhus make malicious ſport
In mincing with his Sword her Husbands limbes.

The inſtant Burſt of Clamour that ſhe made
(Unleſs things mortall meant them not all)

VVould have made milche the burning eyes of heaven,
And paffion in the Gods.

Pol. Look where he has not turn'd his colour, and
has teares in's Eyes. Pray you no more.

Ham. 'Tis well, I'le have thee ſpeak out the reſt ſoon.
Good my Loid, will you fee the Players well beſtow'd.
Doe ye hear, let them be well us'd: for they are the ab-
ſtraets, and brief Chronicles of the time. After your
death, you were better have a bad Epitaph, then their ill
report while you lived.

Pol. My Lord, I will uſe them according to their de-
ſert.

Ham. Godsbodikins man, better. Uſe every man
after his deſert, and who ſhould ſcape whipping: uſe
them after your own Honour and Dignity. The leſſe
they deſerve, the more merit is in your bounty. Take
them in.

Pol. Come, firs.

Exit Polonius.

Ham. Follow him friends: we'll hear a Play to morrow. Doft thou hear me, old friend, can you play the murther of Gonzago?

Play. I, my Lord.

Ham. We'll ha't to morrow night. You could for a
need ſtudy a ſpeech of ſome dozen or fixteen lines, which
I would ſet down, and infert in't ? Could ye not ?

Play. I, my Lord.

Ham. Very well. Follow that Lord, and look you
mock him not. My good friends, I'le leave you till night,
you are welcome to Elfinoore.

Rofin. Good my Lord,

Manet Hamlet,

Exeunt.

Ham. I ſo, god buy'ye: Now I am alone,
Oh what a Rogue and Pezant ſlave am I?
Is it not monſtrous that this Player here,
But in a ſiſtion, in a dreame of Paffion,
Could force his Soule ſo to his whole conceit,
That from her working, all his viſage warm'd;
Teares in his eyes, diſtraſſion in's ſapſt,
A broken voyce, and his whole Function ſuiting
With ſormes, to his conceit ? and all for nothing ?
For Hecuba ?

What's Hecuba to him, or he to Hecuba,
That he ſhould weep for her ? what would he doe,
Had he the motive and the Cue for paffion
That I have, he would droun the Stage with teares,
And cleave the generall ear with horrid ſpeech:
Make mad the guilty, and apale the free.

Conſound the ignoſtant, and amaze indeed,
The very faculty of Eyes and Eares. Yet I,
A dull and muddy-metled Raſcall, peake
Like John-a-deames, unpregnant of my cauſe,

And can ſay nothing: No, not for a King,
Upon whole property, and moſt dear life,
A damn'd defect was made, Am I a Coward ?

Who calls me Villain ? breaks my pate a-croſſe ?
Plucks off my Beard, and blows it in my face ?

Tweaks me by th' Nofe, gives me the Lye ith' Throat,
As deep as to the Lungs ? who does me this?

Ha ? Why ſhould I take it ? for it cannot be,
But I am Pigeon-Liver'd, and lack Gall

To make Oppreſſion bitter, or ere this,
I ſhould have fatted all the Region Kites

With this Slaves Oſſal, bloody: a Bawdy villain,
Remorſeleſſe, Treacherous, Lecherous, kindleſſe villain !

Oh Vengeance !

Who ? what an Aſſe am I ? I ſure, this is moſt brave,
That I, the Son of the dear murthered,

Prompted to my revenge by heaven, and hell,
Muſt (like a Whore) unpack my heart with words,
And fall a curſing like a very Drab,

A Sculion ? Pye upon't. Foh. About my Brain,
I have heard, that guilty Creatures fitting at a Play,
Have by the very cunning of the ſcane,
Been ſtruck ſo to the foule, that prefently

They have proclaim'd their Maleſtactions,
For Murther, though it have no tongue, will ſpeak
With moſt miraculous Organ. I'le have theſe Players,
Play ſomething like the murder of my Father,
Before mine Unkle. I'le obſerve his looks,
I'le rent him to the quick: if he but blench

I know my courſe. The Spirit that I have ſeen
May be the Devil, and the Devil hath power
T'allume a pleafing ſhape, yea, and perhaps
Out of my weakneſſe, and my melancholly,
As he is very potent with ſuch Spirits,

Abufes me to damn me, I'le have grounds

More Relative then this: The Play's the thing,
Wherein I'le catch the Conſcienc of the King.
Exit.

Enter King, Queen, Polonius, Ophelia, Ro-
fincros, Guildenſtar, and Lords.

King. And can you by no drift of circumſtance
Get from him why he puts on this Conſufion,
Grating ſo harſhly all his dayes of quiet

With

The Tragedy of Hamlet.

743

With turbulent and dangerous Lunacy.

Rofin. He does confeſſe he feeles himſelf diſtraſted,
But from what cauſe he will by no meanes ſpeak,

Gail. Nor do we find him forward to be ſounded,
But with a crafty Madneſſe keeps aloof:

When we would bring him on to ſome Conſeſſion
Of his true ſtate,

Quee. Did he receive you well ?

Rofin. Moſt like a Gentleman.

Gyſt. But with much forcing of his diſpoſition,
Rofin. Niggard of queſtion, but of our demands
Moſt free in his reply.

Quee. Did you aſſay him to any paſtime ?

Rofin. Madam, it ſo fell out, that certain Players

We re-took on the way : of theſe we told him,

And there did seem in him a kind of Joy

To hear of it : They are about the Court,

And (as I think) they have already order

This night to play before him.

Pol. 'Tis moſt true :

And he beſeeth me to intreat your Majesties

To hear and fee the matter.

King. With all my heart, and it doth much content me
To hear him fo inclin'd. Good Gentlemen,
Give him a further edge, and drive his purpoe on
To theſe delights.

Rofin. We ſhall, my Lord.

Exeunt.

King. Sweet Gertrude, leave us too,

For we have cloſely ſent for Hamlet hitherto

That he, as 'twere by accident, may there

Aſſront Ophelia. Her Father, and my ſelf (lawfull eſpials)

Will ſo beſtow our ſelves, that feeing unſeen

We may of their encounter frankly judge,

And gather by him, as he is behaved,
If't be ch'affiſtution of his love, or no.

That thus he ſuffers for.

Quee. I ſhall obey you :

And for your part, Ophelia, I do ſwith

That your good beauties be the happy cauſe

Of Hamlets wildneſſe : to ſhall I hope your Virtues

Will bring him to his wonted way again,

To both your Honours.

Ophel. Madam, I wifh it may.

Pol. Ophelia, walk you here. Gracious ſo please ye
We will beſtow our ſelves : Read on this Book,

That ſhew of ſuch an exercise may colour

Your lontelineſſe. We are oft to blame in this

'Tis too much prov'd, that with Devotions viſage,

And pious Action, we do purge o're the

Devil himſelf.

King. Oh 'tis true :

How ſmart a laſh that ſpeech doth give my Conſcience ?

The Harlots Cheek beautied with plaſtring Art

Is not more ugly to the thing that helps it,

Then is my deed, to my moſt painted word,

Oh heavy burthen !

Pol. I hear him comming, let's withdraw, my Lord.

Exeunt.

Enter Hamlet.

Ham. To be, or not to be, that is the Queſtion :

Whether 'tis Nobler in the mind to ſuffer

The Slings and Arrowes of outragious Fortune,

Or to take Armes againſt a Sea of troubles,

And by oppoſing end them : to dye, to ſleep

No more : and by a ſleep, to fay we end

The heart-ake, and the thouſand naturall ſhocks

That ſleſh is heir to ? 'Tis a conſummation

Devoutly to be wifh'd. To die to ſleep,

To ſleep, perchance to dreame ; I, there's the rub,

For in that ſleep of death, what dreames may come,

When he hath shuffled off this mortall coyle,

Muſt give us pawſe. There's the reſpect

That makes Calamity of ſo long life :

For who would bear the whips and ſcorns of time,

The Oppreſſors wrong, the poor mans Contumely,

The pangs of diſpriz'd Love, the Lawes delay,

The inſolence of Office, and the ſpurnes

That patient merit of the unworthy takes,

When he himſelf might his Quietus make

With a bare Bodkin ? Who would theſe Fardles bear

To grunt and ſweat under a weary life,

But that the dread of ſomething after death,

The undiſcovered Country, from whose Born

No Traveller returns, puzzles the will,

And makes us rather bear that ſells we have,

Then flye to others that we know not of.

Thus Conſcience does make Cowards of us all,

And thus the Native hue of Reſolution

Is ſicklied o're, with the pale caſt of thought,

And enterprizes of great pith and moment,

With this regard their Currants turn away,

And looke the name of Action. Soft you now,

The fair Ophelia ? Nymph, in thy Horizons

Be all my fins remembred.

Ophel. Good my Lord,

How does your honour for this many a day ?

Ham. I humbly thank you : well, well, well.

Ophel. My Lord, I have remembrances of yours,

That I have longed long to redeliver.

I pray you now, receive them.

Ham. No, no, I never gave you ought.

Ophel. My honour'd Lord, I know right well you did,
And with them words of ſo fewe breath compos'd,

As made the things more rich, then perfume left :

Take theſe again, for to the Noble mind

Rich gifts wax poor, when givers prove unkind,

There, my Lord.

Ham. Ha, ha : are you honeſt ?

Ophel. My Lord.

Ham. Are you faire ?

Ophel. What meanes your Lordship?

Ham. That if you be honeſt and fair, your Honeſty
Should admit no diſcourſe to your Beauty.

Ophel. Could beauty, my Lord, have better Commerce
then your honeſty ?

Ham. I truly : for the power of beauty, will ſooner
transforme honeſty from what it is, to a Bawd, then the
force of honeſty can translate Beauty into hislikenſe.
This was ſometimes a Paradox, but now the time gives it
proof. I did love you once.

Ophel. Indeed, my Lord, you made me believe fo:

Ham. You ſhould not have believed me. For virtue
cannot ſo inoculate our old ſtock, but we ſhall reſiſh of
it. I loved you not.

Ophel. I was the more deceived.

Ham. Get thee to a Nunnery. Why would'ſt thou
be a breeder of Sinners ? I am my ſelf indiſerent honeſt,
but yet I could accuſe me of ſuch things, that it were be-
to, my Mother had not born me. I am very proud, re-
vengefull. Ambitious, with more offenſes at my beck,
then I have thoughts to put them in imagination, to give
them ſhape, or time to act them in. What ſhould ſuch

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The Tragedy of Hamlet.

746

In neither ought, or in extremity :
Now what my love is, proof hath made you know,
And as my love is fixt, my fear is so.

King. Faith I must leave thee, Love, and shortly too:
My operant Powers my functions leave to doe
And thou shalt live in this fair world behind,
Honour'd, belov'd, and haply, one as kind.

For Husband I shall thou—

Quee. On confound the reft :
Such Lovemuft needs be Treason in my breft:
In fecond Husband let me be accuft,
None wed the second, but who kill'd the first.
Ham. Wormwood, Wormwood.
Quee. The infances that second Marriage move,
Are safe repects of Thrift, but none of Love.
A second time, I kill my Husband dead,
When second Husband kiffes me in Bed.

King. I do believe you. Think what now you speak:
But what we do determine, oft we break ;

Purpose is but the slave to Memory,

Of violent Birth, but poor validity :

Which now like fruit unripeicks on the Tree,

But fall unshaken, when they mellow be.

Moft neceffary 'tis, that we forger

To pay our felves, what to our felves is debt :

What to our felves in paffion we propofe,

The paffion ending, doth the purpofe lofe.

The violence of other Grief or Joy,

Their own enaftors with themfelves deftroy :

Where Joy moft revels, Grief doth moft lament ;

Grief joyes, Joy grieves on flender accident.

This world is not for aye, nor 'tis not strange

That even our Loves should with our Fortunes change.

For 'tis a queftion left us yet to prove,

Whether Love lead Fortune, or eſſe Fortune Love.

The great man down, you mark his favourite flyes,

The poor advanc'd makes friends of Enemies :

And hitherto doth Love on Fortune tend,

For who not needs, shall never lack a friend ?

And who in want a hollow friend doth try,

Directly feaſons him his Enemy.

But orderly to end where I begun,

Our Wills and Fates doſe contrary run,

That our Devices ſtill are overthrown,

Our thoughts are ours, their ends none of our own,

So think thou wilt no second husband wed.

But dye thy thoughts, when thy firſt Lord is dead.

Quee. Nor Earth to give me food, nor heaven light,
Sport and repofe lock from me day and night :

Each oppofite that blankes the face of joy,

Meet what I would have well, and it deftroy :

Both here, and hence, purſue me laſting ſtrife,

If once a Widdow, ever I be Wife.

Ham. If she ſhould break it now.

King. Tis deeply fworn :

Sweets, leave me here a while,

My spirits grow dull, and fain I would beguile

The tedious day with sleep.

Quee. Sleep rock thy brain,

Sleeps.

And never come miſchance between us twain.

Exit.

Ham. Madam, how like you the Play ?

Quee. The Lady proteaſts too much me thinkes.

Ham. Oh but he'll keep her word,

King. Have you heard the Argument, is there no Of-
fence in't ?

Ham. No, no, they do but jeſt, poyſon in jeſt, no Of-

ſence ith' world.

King. What do you call the Play ?

Ham. The Mouſe-trap: Marry how ? Tropically :
This Play is the image of a murder done in Vienna : Gon-
zago is the Dukes name, his wife Baptifta : you shall fee
anon : 'tis a knavifh piece of work : but what o' that ?
Your Majefty, and we that have free ſoules, it touches us
not : let the gall'd jade winch : our withers are unwrung,

Enter Lucianus.

This is one Lucianus, nephew to the King.

Ophe. You are a good Chorus, my Lord.

Ham. I could interpret between you and your love :
if I could fee the Puppets dallying.

Ophe. You are keen, my Lord, you are keen.

Ham. It would coſt you a groaning, to take off my
edge.

Ophe. Still better and worſe.

Ham. So you miſtake Husbands.

Begin Murderer. Pox, leave thy damnable Faces, and
begin. Come, the croaking Raven doth bellow for Re-
venge.

Lucian. Thoughts black, hands apt,

Drugs fit, and Time agreeing:

Confederate ſeafon, eſſe no Creature feeing :

Thou mixture rank, of Midnight-Weeds collected,

With Hecates Ban, thrice blaſted, thrice inſected,

Thy naturall Magick, and dire property,

On wholſome life, uſurp immediately.

Poures the poyſon in his eares.

Ham. He poyſons him ith' Garden for's eſtate : His
names Gonzago : the Story is extant, and writ in choyce
Italian. You shall fee anon how the Murtherer gets the
love of Gonzago's Wife.

Ophe. The King ríſes.

Ham. What, frighted with ſalſe fire,

Quee. How fares my Lord ?

Pol. Give o're the Play.

King. Give me ſome Light, Away,

All. Lights, Lights, Lights.

Exeunt.

Manet Hamlet and Horatio.

Ham. Why let the truſened Deer go weep,

The Heart ungalled play :

For ſome muſt watch, while ſome muſt ſleep ?

So runs the world away.

Would not this, Sir, and a Forreſt of Feathers, if the reſt
of my fortunes turn Turk with me; with two Provin-
ciall Rofes on my rac'd Shooes, get me a Fellowship in a
cry of Players, fir.

Hor. Half a ſhare.

Ham. A whole one I,

For thou doſt know : Oh Damon dear,

This Realme diſmantaſed was of Jove himselfſ,

And now reigns here,

A very very Pajock.

Hora. You might have Rim'd.

Ham. Oh good Horatio, I'le take the Ghoſts word for
a thouſand pound. Didſt perceive ?

Hora. Very well, my Lord.

Ham. Upon the talk of the poyſoning?

Hora. I did very well note him.

Enter Rofincros and Gildonſfar.

Ham. Oh,ha? come ſome Muſick. Come the Recorders
For if the King like not the Comedy.

Why then belike he likes it not perdy.

Come, ſome Muſick.

Guild. Good my Lord, vouchſaſe me a word with you.

Ham.

The Tragedy of Hamlet.

Ham. Sir, a whole Hiftory.
Guild. The King, fir.
Ham. I, fir, what of him.
Gild. Is in his retirement, marvellous diftemper'd,
Ham. With drink, Sir ?
Guild. No, my Lord, rather with choller.
Ham. Your wifedome should fhow it self more rich
to dignify this to his Doctor; for me to put him to his
Purgation, would perhaps plunge him into farre more
Choller.
Ham. Good my Lord, put your difcourfe into fome
frame, and flart not so wildly from my affaire.

Ham. I am tame, Sir, pronounce.
Guild. The Queen your Mother, in moft great affilia
tion of spirit, hath ſent me to you.
Ham. You are welcome.
Guild. Nay, good my Lord, this courtesie is not of the
right breed. If it ſhall please you to make me a wholſome
anſwer, I will doe your Mothers commandement : if
not, your pardon, and my return ſhall be the end of my
bufineſſe.

Ham. Sir, I cannot.
Guild. What my Lord ?
Ham. Make you a wholſome anſwer: my wits dif-
cas'd. But fir, ſuch anſwers as I can make, you ſhall com-
mand: or rather you ſay, my mother: therefore no more
but to the matter. My mother you ſay.

Rofn. Then thus ſhe fayes : your behaviour hath
ſtroke her into amazement, and admiration.

Ham. Oh wonderful ſon, that can ſo aftainſon a
Mother. But is there no ſequell at the heeles of this Mo-
ter admiration ?

Rofn. She defures to ſpeak with you in her Cloſet ere
you go to bed.

Ham. We ſhall obey, were ſhe ten times our Mother.
Have you any further Trade with us ?

Rofn. My Lord, you once did love me.

Ham. So I do ſtill, by theſe pickers and ſtealers.

Rofn. Good my Lord, what is your caufe of diſtem-
per? You do freely bar the door of your own Liberty,
if you deny your griefs to your friend,

Ham. Sir, I lack advancement.

Rofn. How can that be, when you have the voyce of
the King himself, for your ſucceſſion in Denmark ?

Ham. I, but while the graſſe growes, the Proverbe is
fomething muſt.

Enter one with a Recorder.

O the Recorder. Let me fee to withdraw with you, why
doe you go about to recover the wind of me, as if you
would drive me into a toile ?

Guild. O my Lord, if my Duty be too bold, my love
is too unmannerly.

Ham. I do not well understand that. Will you play
upon this Pipe ?

Guild. My Lord, I cannot.

Ham. I pray you.

Guild. Believe me, I cannot.

Ham. I do beſeeth you.

Guild. I know no touch of it, my Lord.

Ham. 'Tis as caſe as lying: govern theſe Ventiges
with your finger and thumbe, give it breath with your
mouth, and it will diſcourſe moſt excellent Muſick.
Look you, theſe are the ſtops.

Guild. But theſe cannot I command to any utterance
of harmony, I have not the skill,

Ham. Why look you now, how unworthy a thing

you make of me: you would play upon me: you would
feem to know my ſtops: you would pluck out the heart
of my Mystery: you would found me from my loweſt
Note, to the top of my compaſſe: and there is much Mu-
fick, excellent Voyce, in this little Organ, yet cannot
you make it. Why doe you think, that I am eſtler to be
plaid on then a Pipe ? Call me what Inſtrument you will,
though you can fret me, you cannot play upon me. God
bleſſe you, Sir.

Enter Polonius.

Polon. My Lord, the Queen would ſpeak with you,
and prefently.

Ham. Doe you fee that Cloud, that's almoſt in ſhape
like a Camell.

Polon. By th' Miffc, and it's like a Camell indeed.

Ham. Me thinks it is like a Weazell.

Polon. It is back'd like a Weazell.

Ham. Or like a Whale ?

Polon. Very like a Whale.

Ham. Then will I come to my Mother by and by :
They ſtoole me to the top of my bent.

I will come by and by.

Polon. I will tay to.

Exit.

Ham. By and by is eafily faid. Leave me friends:

'Tis now the very witching time of night,
When Church-yards yawn, and Hell it ſelf breathes out
Contagion to this world. Now could I drink hot blood,
And do ſuch bitter bufineſs as the day

Would quake to look on. Soft now, to my Mother :
Oh heart, loofe not thy Nature ; let not ever

The Soule of Nero enter this firm boſome :

Let me be cruell, not unnaturall,

I will ſpeak Daggers to her, but uſe none :

My tongue and Soule in this be Hypocrites.

How in my words ſomever ſhe be ſhent,

To give them ſeales, never my ſoule consent.

Enter King, Rofincros, and Guildenſtar.

King. I like him not, nor ſtands it ſaſe with us,
To let his madneſſe range. Therefore prepare you,
I your Commiffion will forthwith diſpatch,
And he to England ſhall along with you,
The terms of our eſtate, may not endure
Hazard to dangerous as doth hourly grow
Out of his Lunacies.

Guild. We will our ſelves provide :

Moſt holy and Religious fear it is

To keep thate many bodies ſafe

That live and feed upon your Majesty.

Rofn. The ſingle

And peculiar life is bound

With all the ſtrength and Armour of the minde,

To keep it ſelf from noyance: but much more,

That Spirit, upon whose ſpirit depends and reſts

The lives of many, the caſe of Majety

Dies not alone : but like a Gulf doth draw

What's near it, with it, It is a maffie wheele

Fixt on the Somnet of the highest Mount,

To whose huge Spoakes, ten thouſand leſſer things

Are mortiz'd and adjoin'd: which when it falls,

Each ſmall annexment, petty ſeſequence

Attends the boyſtrous Ruine. Never alone

Did the King fight, but with a generall groan.

King. Arme you, I pray you to this ſpeedy Voyage;
For we will Fetters put upon this fear,

Which

["The Tragedy of Hamlet.", "748", "Which now goes too free-footed.", "Both. We will haſt us,", "Exeunt Gentiles.", "Enter Polonius.", "Pol. My Lord, he's going to his Mothers Cloſet :\nBehind the Atras I'le convey my ſelf.", "To hear the Proceſſe. I'le warrant ſhe'll tax him home.\nAnd as you ſaid, and wifely was it ſaid,", "'Tis meet that ſome more audience then a Mother,\nSince Nature makes them partiall, ſhould o're-hear\nThe ſpreech of vantage, Fare you well my Liege,\nI'le call upon you e're you go to bed,", "And tell you what I know.", "Exit.", "King. Thanks, dear my Lord.", "Oh my offence is rank, it smells to heaven,\nIt hach the primall eldeſt curſe upon't,\nA brothers murther. Pray can I not,", "Though inclination be as ſharp as will.", "My ſtronger guilt, deſcaſes my ſtrong intent,", "And like a man to double buſineſſe found,", "I ſtand in pawſe where I ſhall ſuſt begin,", "And both neglect; what if this curſed hand", "Were thicker then it ſelf with brothers blood,", "Is there not Rain enough in the ſweet heavens", "To waſh it white as Snow ? whereto ſerves mercry,", "But to confront the viſage of Offence?", "And what's in Prayer, but this two-fold force,", "To be fore-stalled, are we come to fall,", "Or pardon'd being down ? Then I'le look up,", "My fault is paſt. But oh, what ſorme of Prayer", "Can ſerve my turn ? Forgive me my foule Murther :", "That cannot be, ſince I am still poffeſt", "Of thate effects for which I did the Murther.", "My Crown, mine own Ambition, and my Queen :", "May one be pardon'd, and retain th'offence ?", "In the corrupted currants of this world,", "Offences gilded hand may ſhove by Juitſice,", "And oft 'tis ſeen, the wicked prize it ſelf.", "Buyes out the Law ; but 'tis not ſo above,", "There is no ſhuffling, there the Action lies", "In his true Nature, and we our ſelves compell'd", "Even to the teeth and fore-head of our ſaults,", "To given in evidence. What then ? what reſts ?", "Try what Repentance can. What can it not ?", "Yet what can it, when one cannot repent ?", "Oh wretched ſtate ? oh boſome, black as death !", "Oh limed foule, that ſtrugling to be free,", "Art more ingag'd : Help, Angels, make aſſay :", "Bow ſtubborn Knees, and heart with ſtrings of Steele,", "Be ſoft as finewes of the new-born Babe,", "All may be well.", "Enter Hamlet.", "Ham. Now, might I do it pat, now he is praying,\nAnd now I'le do't, and ſo he goes to heaven,", "And ſo am I reveng'd: that would be ſcann'd,", "A Villain kills my Father, and for that", "I his foule Son, doe this fame Villain ſend", "To heaven. O this is hire and Sallery, not Revenge.", "He took my Father groſſely, full of bread,", "With all his Crimes broad blown, as fresh as May,", "And how his Audit ſtands, who knowes, ſave heaven :", "But in our circumſtance and courſe of thought", "'Tis heavy with him: and am I then reveng'd,", "To take him in the purging of his Soule,", "When he is ſit and ſeafond for his paſſage ? No,", "Up Sword, and know thou a more horrid hent", "When he is drunk aſſeep : or in his Rage,", "Or in th'ineſtuous pleasure of his bed,", "At gaming, I'wearing, or about ſome act", "That has no relliffh of Salvation in't,", "Then trip him, that his heeles may kick at heaven,", "And that his Soule may be as damn'd and black", "As hell, whereto it goes. My Mother ſtayes,", "This Phyſick but prolongs thy fickly dayes.", "Exit.", "King. My words flye up, my thoughts remain below,\nWords without thoughts, never to heaven go.", "Exit.", "Enter Queen and Polonius.", "Polo. He will come ſtraight :", "Look you lay home to him,", "Tell him his pranks have been too broad to bear with,", "And that your Grace hath fore'end, and ſtood between", "Much heat and him. I'le ſilence me e'ne here :", "Pray you be round with him.", "Ham. withuſt. Mother, mother, mother.", "Quee. I'le warrant you, fear me not.", "Withdraw, I hear him comming.", "Enter Hamlet.", "Ham. Now, Mother, what's the matter ?", "Quee. Hamlet, thou haſt thy Father much offended.", "Ham. Mother, you have my Father much offended.", "Quee. Come, come, you aniver with an idle tongue.", "Ham. Come, go, you quæſtion with an idle tongue.", "Quee. Why how now, Hamlet ?", "Ham. What's the matter now ?", "Quee. Have you forgot me ?", "Ham. No, by the Rood, not so :", "You are the Queen, your Husbands Brothers wife,", "But would you were not ſo. You are my Mother.", "Quee. Nay, then I'le fet thofe to you that can ſpeak.", "Ham. Come, come, and fit you down, you shall not\nbudge :", "You go not till I ſet up a glaſſe.", "Where you may fee the inmoſt part of you ?", "Quee. What wilt thou doe ? thou wilt not murther me?", "Help, help, hoa.", "Pol. What hoa, help, help, help.", "Ham. How now, a Rat ? dead for a Ducate, dead.", "Pol. Oh I am ſlain.", "Kills Polonius.", "Quee. Oh me, haſt thou done ?", "Ham. Nay I know not, is it the King ?", "Quee. Oh what a rath and blood deed is this ?", "Ham. A bloody deed, almost as bad good Mother,", "As kill a King, and marry with his Brother.", "Quee. As kill'd a King ?", "Ham. I, Lady, 'twas my word.", "Thou wretched, rath, intruding fool, farewell,", "I took thee for thy Betters, take thy fortune,", "Thou find't to be too bufſe, is ſome danger.", "Leave wringing of your hands, peace, fit you down,", "And let me wring your heart, for ſo I shall", "If it be made of penetrable ſtuffe ;", "If damned Cuftome have not braz'd it ſo,", "That it is proof and bulwarke against Senſe.", "Qu. What have I done, that thou dar't ſag thy\nIn no ſe ſo rude against me ? (tongue)", "Ham. Such an Act", "

The Tragedy of Hamlet.

749

As from the body of conraction plucks
The very foule, and sweet Religion makes
A raptцыd of words. Heavens face doth glow,
Yea this固id y and compound maffe,
With trifullt visage as againſt the doom,
Is thought-fick at the act.

Quee. Aye me, what act, that roares so loud, and
thunders in the Index,

Ham. Look here upon this Picture, and on this,
The counterfeit preſentment of two brothers :
See what a grace feated on his Brow,
Hyperions curles, the front of Jove himself,
An eye like Mars, to threaten or command
A Station like the Herald Mercury,
Now lighted on a heaven-killing hill :
A Combination, and a forme indeed,
Where every god did seem to fet his Seale,
To give the world aflurance of a man.
This was your Husband. Look you now what followes,
Here is your Husband, like a Mildew'd Deer
Blaſting his wholſome breath. Have you eyes ?
Could you on this fair Mountain leave to feed,
And batten on this Moore ? Ha ? have you eyes ?
You cannot call it Love : For at your age,
The hey-day in the blood is fame; it's humble
And waits upon the judgement : and what judgement
Would ſtep from this to this ? What Devil was't,
That thus hath cozen'd you at hoodman-blind ?
O Shame ! where is thy blush ? Rebellious Hell,
If thou canst muttine in a Matrons bones,
To flaming youth, let Virtue be as wax.
And melt in your own fire. Proclaime no fame,
When the compulſive Ardure gives the charge,
Since Croft it ſelf, as actively doth burn,
As Reafon panders VVill.

Quee. O Hamlet; ſpeak no more.
Thou turnſt mine eyes into my very ſoule;
And there I fee ſuch black and grained ſpots.
As will not leave their Tinct.
Ham. Nay, but to live
In the rancik fweat of an enfeamed bed,
Stew'd in Corruption; honying and making love
Over the naſty Stye.

Quee. Oh ſpeak to me, no more,
Thefe words like Daggers enter in mine eares.
No more, ſweet Hamlet.
Ham. A Murderer, and a Villain :
A Slave, that is not twentieth part the tythe
Of your precedent Lord. A vice of Kings,
A Cutpurfe of the Empire and the Rule.
That from a ſhelf, the precious Diadem ſtole,
And put it in his Pocket.

Quee. No more,
Enter Ghoſt.
Ham. A King of ſhreds and patches.
Save me: and hover o're me with your wings.
You heavenly Guards. What would you gracious figure?
Quee. Alafs he's mad.
Ham. Doe you not come your tardy Son to chide,
That laps'd in Time and Paffion, let's go by
Th'important acting of your dread command? Oh ſay,
Ghoſt. Doe not forget : this Visitation
Is but to whet thy almoſt blunted purpose.
But look Amazement on thy Mother fits ;
O ſtep between her, and her fighting Soule,
Conceit in weakeſt bodies, ſtrongeſt works.

Speak to her, Hamlet.
Ham. How is it with you, Lady ?
Quee. Alafs, how is't with you ?
That thus you bend your eye on vacancy,
And with the Corporall ayre doe hold diſcours,
Forth at your eyes, your ſpirits wildly peep,
And as the ſleeping Souldiers in th'Alarme,
Your bedded hair, like life in Excrements,
Start up, and stand an end. O gentle Son,
Upon the heat and flame of thy diſtemper
Sprinkle coole patience. VVhereon doe you look ?

Ham. On him, on him, look you how pale he glares,
His form and caufe conjoyn'd, preaching to ſones,
VVould make them capable. Doe not look upon me,
Leaſt with this pittious action you convert
My ſtern effects: then what have I to doe,
VVill want true colour; teares perchance for blood,

Quee. To whom doe you ſpeak this ?
Ham. Doe you fee nothing there ?
Quee. Nothing at all, yet all that is I fee.
Ham. Nor did you nothing hear ?
Quee. No, nothing but our ſelves.
Ham. V Vhy look you there: look how it ſteales away;
My Father in his habite, as he lived.

Look where he goes even now out at the Portall. Exit.
Quee. This is the very coynage of your brain,
This bodileſſe Creation extaſſe is very cunning in,

Ham. Extaſſe ?
My Pulſe, as yours, doth temperately keep time,
And makes as healthſull Muſick. It is not madneſſe
That I have uttered; bring me to the Teſt
And I the matter will re-word : which madneſſe
VVould gamboll from. Mother, for love of Grace,
Lay not a flattering Unſion to your ſoule,
That not your trefpaffle, but my madneſſe ſpeaks :
It will but skin and filme the Ulcerous place,
Whilſt rank Corruption running all within,
Inſeets unſeen. Conſeſſe your ſelf to heaven,
Repent what's paſt, avoid what is to come,
And doe not ſpread the Compoſt or the Weeds,
To make them rank. Forgive me this my Virtue,
For in the fatneſſe of theſe purſue times,
Virtue it ſelf, of Vice muſt pardon beg,
Yea curbe, and wooe, for leave to doe him good.

Quee. Oh Hamlet,
Thou haſt cleft my heart in twain.
Ham. O throw away the worſer part of it,
And live the purer with the other half.
Good night, but go not to mine Unkle's bed,
Affume a Virtue; if you have it not, refrain to night,
And that ſhall lend a kind of eſaſineſſe
To the next abſtinence. Once more good nights,

And when you are defirous to be bleſſ,
I'le bleſſing beg of you. For this fame Lord,
I doe repent : but heaven hath pleas'd it so.
To puniſh me with this, and this with me,
That I muſt be their Scourge and Minifter.
I will beſtow him, and will anſwer well
The death I gave him : ſo again, good night;
I muſt be cruell, onely to be kind :
Thus bad begins, and worſe remains behind.

Quee. What ſhall I doe ?
Ham. Not this by no meanes that I bid you doe :
Let the blunt King tempt you again to bed,
Pinch Wanton on your cheek, call you his Mouſe,
And let him for a pair of reechy killes,

The Tragedy of Hamlet.

Ham. Nothing but to fly you how a King may go
a Progreſs through the gut of a Beggar.

King. Where is Polonius?

Ham. In heaven, ſend chither to fee. If your Meſſen-
ger find him not there, ſee him i'th'other place your
ſelf: but indeed, if you find him not this moneth, you
ſhall noſe him as you go up the flairs into the Lobby.

King. Go ſee him there.

Ham. He will fly 'till ye come.

K. Hamlet, this deed of thine, for thine eſpecial safety
Which we do tender, as we dearly grieve

For that which thou haſt done, muſt ſend thee hence

With ſiery quickneſs : therefore prepare thy ſelf,

The Bark is ready, and the wind at help,

Th' Associates tend, and every thing at bent

For England.

Ham. For England ?

King. I, Hamlet.

Ham. Good.

King. So is it, if thou knew't your purpofes.

Ham. I fee a Cherub that ſees him : but come, for
England. Farewell dear Mother.

King. Thy loving Father Hamlet.

Hamlet. My Mother : Father and Mother is Man and
Wife : Man and Wife is one ſteth, and so my Mother.

Come, for England.

Exit.

King. Follow him at foot,

Tempt him with ſpeed abroad :

Delay it not, I'le have him hence to night.

Away, for every thing is ſeal'd and done

That eſſe leans on th'Affair, pray you make hafe.

And England, if my love thou hold'ſt at ought,

As my great power thereof may give thee ſenſe,

Since yet thy Cicatrice looks raw and red

After the Daniſh Sword, and thy free awe

Payes homage to us; thou may't not coldly ſet

Our Soveraign Progreſs, which imports at full

By letters conjuring to that effect

The preſent death of Hamlet. Do it England,

For like the Heſtick in my bloud he rages,

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

How 'sre my hapſ, my joyes were ne're begun.

Exit.

Enter Fortinbras with an Army.

For. Go Captain, from me to the Daniſh King,

Tell him that by his licenſe, Fortinbras

Claims the convecyance of a promis'd March

Over his Kingdome. You know the Rendevouz :

If that his Majefty would ought with us,

We ſhall expreſs our dutie in his eye,

And let him know ſo.

Cap. I will not ſpeak with my Lord.

For. Go safely on.

Exit.

Enter Queen and Horatio.

Qu. I will not ſpeak with her.

Hor. She is importunate, indeed diftraſt, her mood
will needs be pitied.

Qu. What would ſhe have ?

Hor. She ſpeaks much of her Father; ſays ſhe heares
There's tricks i'th'world, and hems, and beats her heart,
Spurns effeuively at Straws, ſpeaks things in doubt,
That carry but half ſenſe : Her ſpeech is nothing,
Yet the unſhaped uſe of it doth move

The hearers to Collection; they aim at it,

And both the words up fit to their own thoughts,

Which at her winks, and nods, and geſtures yield them,

Indeed would make one think there would be thoughts

Though nothing ſure, yet much unhappily.

Qu. 'Twere good ſhe were ſpoken with,

For the may ſtrow dangerous conjectures

In ill breeding minds. Let her come in

To my ſick Soul (as fin's true nature is)

Each toy ſeems Prologue, to ſome great amifs,

So full of Artleſs jealousie is guilt,

It ſpills it ſelf in fearing to be ſpilt.

Enter Ophelia diftraſt.

Oph. Where is the beauteous Majefty of Denmark?

Qu. How now Ophelia.

Oph. How ſhould I your true love know from another
By his cockle hat and ſtaff, and his ſandal ſhoon, (one?

Qu. Alas sweet Lady : what imports this Song?

Ophe. Say you ? Nay pray you mark.

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

At his head a graſs-green Turfe, at his heels a ſtone.

Enter King.

Qu. Nay but Ophelia.

Oph. Pray you mark.

White his Shroud as the Mountain-Snow.

Qu. Alas, look here my Lord.

Oph. Larded with sweet flowers :

Which be-wept to the grave did not go,

With True-love flowers.

King. How do ye, pretty Lady ?

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

King. Conceit upon her Father.

Oph. Pray you let us have no words of this : but when
they ask you what it means, lay you this:

To morrow is S. Valentine's day, all in the morn betime,
And I a Maid at your window, to be your Valentine.

Then up her ſeife, and don'd his clothes, and dupe the cham-
ber dore:

Let in a Maid, that out a Maid never departed more.

King. Pretty Ophelia.

Oph. Indeed la? without an oath, I'le make an end on't.

By Gis, and by S. Charity :

Alack, an ſie for ſhame.

Young men will do't, if they come to't,

By Cock they are to blame.

Quoth ſhe, before you tumbled me,

You promis'd me to wed :

Sowould I ha done, by yonder Sun,

And thou hadst not come to my bed.

King. How long hath ſhe been thus ?

Oph. I hope all will be well. We muſt be patient,
but I cannot chufe but weep, to think they ſhould
lay him i'th'cold ground : My Brother ſhall know of it,
and fo I thank you for your good counſel, Come, my
Coach: Goodnight Ladies: Goodnight sweet Ladies:
Goodnight, goodnight.

Exit.

King. Follow her cloſe,

Give her good watch I pray you :

Oh this is the poſon of deep grief, it ſprings

All from her Father's death. Oh Gertrude, Gertrude,

When Sorrow comes, they come not ſingle ſpies,

But in Battels, Firſt, her Father ſlain,

Next your ſon gone, and he moſt violent author

Of his own juſt remove : the people muddied,

Thick and unwholſome in their thoughts and whifpers,

For good Polonius death; and we have done but greenly,

In hugger mugger to inter him. Poor Ophelia

Divided from her ſelf, and her fair judgement,

Sff

Without

The Tragedy of Hamlet.

755

*Other.* Will you ha' the truth on't: if this had not been a Gentlewoman, he should have been buried out of Christian Burial.

*Clo.* Why there thou fay'ft. And the more pitie that great folk should have countenance in this world to drown or hang themselves, more than their even Christian. Come, my Spade; there is no ancient Gentlemen, but Gardiners, Ditchers and Grave-makers; they hold up Adam's profession.

*Other.* Was he a Gentleman ?

*Clo.* He was the first that ever bore Armes,

*Other.* Why he had none.

*Clo.* What, art a Heathen ? how doft thou understand the Scripture ? the Scripture fayes Adam digg'd; could he dig without Armes ? I'le put another queftion to thee; if thou anſwereſt me not to the purpofe, confes thy ſelf—

*Other.* Go to.

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

*Other.* The Gallowes-maker, for that Frame out-lives 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 do ill: now thou do'ſt ill to fay the Gallowes is built ſtronger then the Church: Argall, the Gallowes may do well to thee. To't again, Come.

*Other.* Who builds ſtronger than a Mafon, a Ship-wright, or a Carpenter ?

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

*Other.* Marry, now I can tell.

*Clo.* To't.

*Other.* Mafs, I cannot tell.

*Euter Hamlet and Horatio a far off.*

*Clo.* Cudgel thy brains no more about it; for your dull Aſs will not mend his pace with beating; and when you are askt this queſtion next, fay a Grave-maker: the Houſes that he makes, laſts till Dooms-day: go, get thee to Taughan, fetch me a ſtoap of Liquor.

*Sings.*

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

*To contrari O the for a my behove,*
*O me thought there was nothing meet.*

*Ham.* Has this fellow no feeling of his buſines, that he fings at Grave-making ?

*Hor.* Cufome hath made it in him a property of eafiſes.

*Ham.* 'Tis e'en ſo; the hand of little employment hath the daintier ſenſe.

*Clown ſings.*

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

*And hath ſhipped me intill the Land,
as if I never had bin ſuch.*

*Ham.* That Scull had a tongue in it, and could ſing once: how the Knave jowles it to th'ground, as if it were Cain's Jaw-bone, that did the first murther: It might be the Pate of a Politician which this Aſs o're-Ofſices: one that could circumvent God, might it not?

*Hor.* It might, my Lord.

*Ham.* Or of a Courtier, which could fay, 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 beg it; might it not?

*Hor.* I, my Lord.

*Ham.* Why e'en ſo: and now my Lady Worme's, Chap-leſs, and knockt about the Mazzard with a Sexton's Spade, here's fine Revolution, if we had the trick to fee't. Did theſe bones coſt no more the breeding, but to play at Loggets with'em ? mine ake to think on't.

*Clown ſings.*

*A Pick-axe and a Spade, a Spade, for and a ſhording-sheet :*

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

*Ham.* There's another: why might not that be 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 knave now to knock him about the Sconce with a dirty Shovel, and will not tell him of his Action of Battery ? hum. This fellow might be in's time a great buyer of Land, with his Statutes, his Recognizances, his Fines, his double Vouchers, his Recoveries: Is this the fine of his Fines, and the recovery of his Recoveries, to have his fine Pate full of fine Dirt ? will his Vouchers vouch him no more of his Purchafes, and double ones too, then the length and breadth of a pair of Indentures ? the very Conveyances of his Lands will hardly lye in this Box; and muſt the Inheritance himself have no more ? ha?

*Hor.* Not a jot more my Lord.

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

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

*Ham.* They are Sheep and Calves that feck out affluence in that. I will ſpeak to this fellow: whoſe Grave's this Sir?

*Clo.* Mine Sir:

*O a pit of Clay for to be made, for ſuch a Gueſt is meet.*

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

*Clo.* You lie out on't Sir, and therefore it is not yours: for my part I do not lie 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 quick, therefore thou lyeſt.

*Clo.* 'Tis a quick lye, Sir, 'twill away again from me to you.

*Ham.* What man doſt thou dig 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 Soul ſhe's dead.

*Ham.* How abſolute the Knave is? we muſt ſpeak by the Card, or equivocation will follow us: by the Lord, Horatio, theſe three years I have taken note of it, the Age is grown ſo picked, and the toe of the Pefant comes ſo near the heel of our Courtier, he galls his Kibe. How long haſt thou been a Grave-maker?

*Clo.* Of all the dayes i'th'year, I came to't that day that our laſt King Hamlet o'recame Fortinbras.

*Ham.* How long is that ſince ?

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

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

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

Sff. 3

*Ham.*

The Tragedy of Hamlet.

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

Ham. I befeech you remember.

Ofr. Nay, in good faith, for mine eafe 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 King Sir has wag'd with him fix Barbary horfes, againft the which he impon'd, as I take it, fix French Rapiers and Poinards, with their affignes, as Girdle, Hangers, or fo: three of the carriages infaith are very dear to fancie, very responsive to the hilts, moft delicate carriages, and of very liberal conceit.

Ham. What call you the Carriages ?

Ofr. The Carriages Sir, are the Hangers.

Ham. The phrafe would be more germane to the matter: If we could carry Cannon by our fides; I would it might be Hangers 'till then; but on, fix Barbary Horfes, againſt fix French Swords: their Affignes and three liberal 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 between you and him, he ſhall not exceed you three hits: He hath one twelve for mine, and that would come to immediate tryal, if your Lordſhip would vouchſaſe the Anſwer.

Ham. How if I anſwer no ?

Ofr. I mean my Lord the oppoſition of your perſon in tryal.

Ham. Sir, I will walk here in the Hall; if it pleafe his Majefty, 'tis the breathing time of day with me; let the Foyles be brought, the Gentleman willing, and the King hold his purpofe; I will win for him if I can: if not, I'le gain nothing but my ſhame, and the odde hits.

Ofr. Shall I redeliver you e'en fo ?

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

Ofr. I commend my duty to your Lordſhip. Exit.

Ham. Yours, yours; he does well to commend it himſelf, there are no tongues eſſe for's tongue.

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

Ham. He did Comply with his Dug before he fuckt it: thus had he and nine more of the fame Beavy that I know the droffie Age doats on; only got the tune of the time, and outward habit of encounter, a kind of yefty collection, which carries them through and through the moſt fond and winnowed opinions; and doc but blow them to their Tryals, the Bubbles are out.

Hor. You will loſe this wager, my Lord.

Ham. I do not think fo, ſince he went into France, I have been in continual practice; I ſhall winne at the odds; but thou wouldeſt not think how all here about my heart: but it is no matter.

Hor. Nay, good my Lord.

Ham. It is but foolery; but it is ſuch a kind of gainſing as would perhaps trouble a woman.

Hor. If your mind diſlike any thing, obey. I will foreſtall their repair hither, and ſay you are not fit.

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

be not now; yet it will come; the readineſs is all, ſince no man has ought of what he leaves. What is't to leave be times?

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

Kin. Come Hamlet, come, and take this hand from me.

Ham. Give me your pardon Sir, I've done you wrong, But pardon't as you are a Gentleman.

This prefence knows,

And you muſt needs have heard how I am puniſh'd With fore diſtraCTION ? What have I done

That might your natures honour, and exception

Roughly awake, I here proclaim was madneſs:

Was't Hamlet wrong'd Laertes ? Never Hamlets :

If Hamlet from himſelf be tane away :

And when he's not himſelf, do's wrong Laertes,

Then Hamlet does it not, Hamlet denies it :

Who does it then ? His madneſs ? If't be fo,

Hamlet is of the Faſtion that is wrong'd,

His madneſs is poor Hamlet's enemy.

Sir, in this Audience,

Let my disclaiming from a purpòs'd evil,

Free me fo far in your moſt generous thoughts,

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

And hurt my Mother.

Laer. I am ſatified in Nature,

Whofe Motive in this caſe ſhould ſtir me moſt

To my Revenge. But in my terms of honour

I ſtand aloof, and will no reconcilement,

'Till by ſome elder Maſters of known honour,

I have a voice, and preſident of peace

To keep my name ungorg'd. But 'till that time,

I do receive your offer'd love like love,

And will not wrong it.

Ham. I do embrace it freely,

And will this brother's wager frankly play.

Give us the Foyles: Come on,

Laer. Come on for me.

Ham. I'le be your Foyle Laertes, in mine ignorance,

Your skill ſhall like a Star i'th'brighteſt night,

Stick fiery off indeed.

Laer. You mock me Sir.

Ham. No, by this hand.

King. Give the Foyles young Oſrick,

Couſin Hamlet, you know the wager.

Ham. Very well my Lord,

Your Grace hath laid the odds a' th'weaker ſide.

King. I do not fear it,

I have ſeen you both :

But ſince he is better'd, we have therefore odds.

Laer. This is too heavy,

Let me fee another.

Ham. This likes me well,

Theſe Foyles have all a length.

Prepare to Play.

Ofr. I my good Lord.

King. Set me the Stopes of Wine upon that Table :

If Hamlet give the firſt, or ſecond hit,

Or quit in anſwer of a third exchange,

Let all the Battlements their Ordnance fire,

The King ſhall drink to Hamlet's better breath,

And in the Cup an Union ſhall he throw

Richer than that, which four ſuccesſive Kings

In Denmark's Crown have worn.

Give

The Tragedy of Hamlet.

That Robincroft and Guildenstfar are dead :
Where should we have our thanks ?
Hor. Not from his mouth,
Had it th'ability of life to thank you :
He never gave command'ment for their death.
But since so jump upon this bloody queftion,
You from the Polack warres, and you from England
Are here arrived. Give order that thesee bodie
High on a Stage be placed to the view,
And let me speak to th'yet unknowing world,
How thesee things came about. So shall you hear
Of carnal, bloody, and unnatural afts,
Of accidental judgements, caual slaughters,
Of deaths put on by cunning, and forc'd caufe,
And in this upshot, purpores miftook,
Fal'n on the Inventor's heads. All this can I
Truly deliver.
For. Let us haſte to hear it,
And call the Nobleft to the Audience.
For me, with sorrow, I embrace my Fortune,
I have fome Rites of memory in this Kingdome,

Which are to claim, my vantage doth
Invite me.
Hor. Of that I ſhall alwayse cauſe to ſpeak
And from his mouth
Whofe voice will draw on more :
But let this fame be prefently perform'd,
Even whiles men's minds are wild,
Left more miſchance
On plois, and errours happen.
For. Let four Captaines
Bear Hamlet like a Souldier off the Stage,
For he was likely, had he been put on
To have prov'd moſt royalty :
And for his paffage,
The Souldiers Mufick, and the rites of War
Speak loudly for him.
Take up the body ; Such a fight as this,
Becomes the Field, but here ſhews much amils.
Goe, bid the Souldiers shoot.
Exeunt Marching: after which, a Peale of
Ordnance are ſhot off.

F I N I S.

The Tragedy of King LEAR.

Altus Primus. Scena Prima.

Enter Kent, Glouster, and Edmond.

Kent.

Thought the King had more affected the Duke
of Albany, then Cornwall.

Glou. It did always seem to us : But now
in the division of the Kingdome, it appears not
which of the Dukes he values most, for qualities are so
weigh'd, that curiosity in neither, can make choice of ei-
thers moity.

Kent. Is not this your Son, my Lord?

Glou. His breeding, Sir, hath been at my charge. I have
fo often blushed to acknowledge him, that now I am
braz'd to't.

Kent. I cannot conceive you.

Glou. Sir, this young Fellows Mother could ; where-
upon she grew round womb'd, and had indeed (Sir) a
Son for her Cradle, e're she had a Husband for her Bed.
Do you smell a fault ?

Kent. I cannot with the fault undone, the influence of it
being so proper.

Glou. But I have a Son, Sir, by order of Law, some
year older then this; who, yet is no dearer in my ac-
count, though this Knave came somewhat fawcily to the
world before he was sent for : yet was his Mother fair,
there was good sport at his making, and the whorfen
must be acknowledged. Do you know this Nobleman,
Edmond ?

Edm. No, my Lord.

Glou. My Lord of Kent :

Remember him hereafter, as my honourable Friend.

Edm. My services to your Lordship.

Kent. I must love you, and sue to know you better.

Edm. Sir, I shall study deferring.

Glou. He hath been out nine yeares, and away he shall
again. The King is coming.

Sennet. Enter King Lear, Cornwall, Albany, Goneril,
Regan, Cordelia, and attendants.

Lear. Attend the Lords of France & Burgundy, Glouster,

Glou. I shall my Lord.

Exit.

Lear. Mean time we shall exprefs our darker purpose.

Give me the Map here. Know, that we have divided

In three, our Kingdome: and 'tis our faft intent,

To shake all cares and bufinels from our Age,
Conferring them on younger strengths, while we
Unburthen'd crawl toward death. Our son of Cornwall,

And you our no lefs loving fon of Albany,

We have this hour a conftant will to publifh

Our Daughter's several Dowers, that future Strife

May be prevented now. The Prince, France & Burgundy.

Great Rivals in our younger Daughter's Love,

Long in our Court, have made their amorous fojourn,

And here are to be anfwer'd. Tell my Daughters

(Since now we will divere us both of Rule,

Intereft of Terrority, Cares of State)

Which of you shall we fay doth love us moſt,

That we, our largeſt bounty may extend

Where nature doth with merit challenge. Gonerill,

Our eldeſt born, ſpeak firſt.

Gon. Sir, I love you more then this word can weild the

Dearer then eye-fight, ſpace, and liberty, (matter,

Beyond what can be valued, rich or rare,

No leſs then life, with grace, health, beauty, honour ;

As much as Child e're lov'd, or Father found.

A love that makes breath poor, and ſpeech unable,

Beyond all manner of ſo much I love you.

Cor. What ſhall Cordelia ſpeak ? Love, and be ſilent.

Lear. Of all these bounds, even from this Line, to this,

With ſhadowy Forſts, and with Champions rich'd

With plenteous Rivers, and wide-skirted Meads

We make the Lady. To chine and Albanie's idles

Be this perpetual. What fayes our ſecond Daughter,

Our deareft Regan, wife of Coranall?

Regan. I am made of that ſelf-metal as my ſifter,

And prize me at her worth. In my true heart,

I find the names my very deed of love :

Only the comes too ſhort, that I proſeſs

My ſelf an enemy to all other joyes,

Which the moſt precious ſquare of ſenſe proſeſſes

And find I am alone felicitate

In your dear Highneſs love.

Cor. Then poor Cordelia,

And yet not ſo, ſince I am ſure my love's

More ponderous than my tongue.

Lear. To thee, and chine hereditary ever :

Remain this ample third of our fair Kingdome,

No leſs in ſpace, validity, and pleafure

Than that confer'd on Gonerill. Now our Joy,

Although our laſt and leaſt; to whoſe young love,

The Vines of Fraunce, and Milk of Burgundy,

Strive to be intereſt. What can you ſay, to draw

A third, more opulent then your Sifters ? ſpeak.

Cor. Nothing my Lords.

Lear. Nothing ?

Cor

The Tragedy of King Lear.

Cor. Nothing.

Lear. Nothing will come of nothing, fpeak again.
Corn. Unhappy that I am, I cannot have

My heart into my mouth : I love your Majefty
According to my bond, no more nor lefs.

Lear. How, how Cordelia? Mend your speech a little,
Left you may marre your fortunes.

Cor. Good my Lord,

You have begot me, bred me, lov'd me.

I return thofe duties back as are right fit,

Obe you, Love you, and moft honour you.

Why have my Sifters husbands, if they fay

They love you all ? happily when I ſhall wed.

That Lord, whole hand muſt take my plight, ſhall carry
Half my Love with him, half my Care, and Duty,

Sure I ſhall never marry like my Sifters.

Lear. But goes thy heart with this ?

Cor. I my good Lord.

Lear. So young, and ſo ſountender ?

Cor. So yoting my Lord, and true.

Lear. Let it be ſo, the truth then be thy dowre :

For by the ſacred radiance of the Sun,
The mysteries of Hecate, and the night :

By all the operations of the Orbes,

From whom we do exift, and ceafe to be,

Here I disclaim all my Paternal care,

Propinquity and property of bloud,

And as a ſtranger to my heart and me,

Hold thee from this for ever. The barbarous Scythian,

Or he that makes my Generation Mefſes,

To gorge his appetite, ſhall to my boſome

Be as well neighbour'd, pitied, and relief'd,

As thou my fometime Daughter,

Kent. Good my Liege.

Lear. Peace Kent.

Come not between the Dragon and his wrath,

I lov'd her moſt, and thought to fet my reſt

On her kind nurſery. Hence and avoid my fight ;

So be my grave my peace, as here I give

Her father's heart from her ; call France, who ſtrts ?

Call Burgundy, Cornwall, and Albany,

With my two Daughters Dowres, digeſt the third,

Let pride, which ſhe calls plainneſs, marry her :

I do inſveft you jointly with my power,

Preheminence, and all the large effects

That troop with Majeſtly. Our ſelf by Monthly courſe

With reſervation of an hundred Knights,

By you to be ſuſtain'd, ſhall our abode

Make with you by due turn, only we ſhall retain

The name, and all th' addition to a King: the Sway,

Revenue, Execution of the reſt,

Beloved Sonnes be yours, which to confirm,

This Coronet part between you,

Kent. Royal Lear,

Whom I have ever honour'd as my King,

Love'd as my Father, as my Maſter follow'd,

As my Patron thought on in my prayers,

Lear. The Bow is bent and drawn, make from the ſhaft.

Kent. Let it fall rather, though the ſork invade

The region of my heart, be Kent unmannerly,

When Lear is mad, what wouldeſt thou do old man ?

Think it thou that duty ſhall have dread to ſpeak

When power to flattery bowes ?

To plainneſs honour's bound,

When Majeſtly fall to folly, reſerve thy ſtate,

And thy beſt consideration check

This hideous rafhneſs, anſwer my life, my judgeſment :

Thy youngeſt Daughter do's not love thee leaſt,

Nor are thofe empty hearted, whole low ſounds

Revere no hollowneſs.

Lear. Kent, on my life no more.

Kent. My life I never held but as a pawn
To waging againſt thine enemies, ne're fear to lose it,
Thy safety being motive.

Lear. Out of my fight.

Kent. See better Lear, and let me ſtill remain
The true blank of thine eye.

Lear. Now by Apollo.

Kent. Now by Apollo, King

Thou ſwear'ſt thy gods in vain,

Lear. O Vaffal ! Miscreant.

Alb. Corn. Dear Sir forbear,

Kent. Kill thy Phyſician, and thy fee beſtow

Upon the foul diſcaſe, revoke the gift,

Or whil'ſt I can vent clamour from my throat,

I'le tell thee thou doſt evil.

Lear. Hear me recreant, on thine allegeance hear me ;

That thou haſt fought to make us break our voweſ,

Which we durſt never yet ; and with ſtrain'd pride,

To be metwixt our ſentenc'e, and our power,

Which, nor our nature, nor our place can bear ;

Our potency made good, take thy reward,

Five days we do allot thee for provſion,

To ſhield thee from diſaſters of the world,

And on the fixt to turn thy hated back

Upon our Kingdome ; if the tenth day following,

Thy banifh't trunk be found in our Dominions,

The moment is thy death, away. By Jupiter

This ſhall not be revok'd.

Kent. Fare thee well King, ſith thus thou wilt appear,

Freedome lives hence, and banifhment is here ;

The gods to their dear ſhelter take thee Maid,

That juſtly think'ſt, and haſt moſt rightly ſaid :

And your large ſpeeches may your deeds approve,

That good effects may ſpring from words of love :

Thus Kent, O Princes, bids you all adieu,

He'll ſhape his old courſe in a Counſrey new.

Exit.

Enter Gloster with France, and Burgundy
Attendants.

Cor. Here's France and Burgundy, my Noble Lord.

Lear. My Lord of Burgundy,

We firſt addreſſes toward you, who with this King

Hath rivall'd for our Daughter ; what in the leaſt

Will you require in prefent Dower with her,

Or ceaſe your queſt of Love ?

Bur. Moſt Royal Majeſtly,

I crave no more then what your Higneſs offer'd
Nor will you tender leſs ?

Lear. Right Noble Burgundy,

When ſhe was dear to us, we held her ſo,

But now her price is fall'n: Sir, there ſhe flands,

If ought within that little ſeeming ſubſtance,

Or all of it with our diſpleasure piec'd,

And nothing more may ſiſtly like your Grace,

Shee's there, and ſhe is yours.

Bur. I know no anſwer.

Lear. Will you with thofe infirmities ſhe owes,
Unfriended, new adopted to our hate,

Dowr'd with our curſe, and ſtranger'd with our oath,

Take-leave, or leave her.

Bur. Par.

The Tragedy of King Lear.

765

chief of your person, it would fearlessly allay.

Edg. Some Villain hath done me wrong.

Edm. That's my fear, I pray you have a continent
forbearance till the speed of his rage goes flower: and as
I say, retire with me to my lodging, from whence I will
fitley bring you to hear my Lord speak: pray ye go, there's
my key: if you do fiftir abroad, go arm'd.

Edg. Arm'd, Brother ?

Edm. Brother, I advife you to the beſt, I am no honeſt
man, if there be any good meaning toward you: I have
told you what I have ſeen, and heard: But faintly. No-
thing like the image, and horror of it, pray you away.

Edg. Shall I hear from you anon ?

Exit.

Edm. I do ſerve you in this buſineſs:
A Credulous Father, and a Brother Noble,
Whole nature is ſo far from doing harms,
That he ſuſpects none: on whole foolish honeſty
My præſides life eafe: I fee the buſineſs.
Let me, if not by birth, have lands by wit,
All with me's meet, that I can fashion fit.

Exit.

## Scena Tertia.

Enter Gonerill, and Steward.

Gon. Did my Father ſtrike my Gentleman for chiding
of his fool ?

Stew. I, Madam.

Gon. By day and night, he wrongs me; every hour
He flatches into one groſs crime, or other,
That ſeems us all at odds: I'le not endure it;
His Knights grow riotous, and himself upbraids us
On every trifle. When he returns from hunting,
I will not ſpeak with him, ſay I am ſiek,
If you come ſlack of former ſervices
You ſhall do well, the fault of it I'le anſwer.

Stew. He's coming, Madam, I hear him.

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

Stew. Well Madam.

Gon. And let his Knights have colder looks among
you: what growes of it no matter, advife your ſeſſes
ſo; I'le write ſtraight to my Sifter to hold my course:
prepare for dinner.

Exeunt.

## Scena Quarta.

Enter Kent.

Kent. If but as well I other accents borrow,
That can my ſpeech deſufe, my good intent
May carry through it ſelf to that full ilſue
For which I rais'd my likeneſs. Now banisht Kent
If thou canſt ſerve where thou doſt ſtand condemn'd,
So may it come, thy Maſter whom thou lov'd,†
Shall find thee full of labours.

Hornes within. Enter Lear and Attendants.

Lear. Let me not ſlay a jot for dinner, go get it rea-
dy: how now, what art thou ?

Kent. A man, Sir.

Lear. What doſt thou profefs ? what would'ſt thou
with us ?

Kent. I do profefs to be no leſs then I ſeem ; to ſerve
him truly that will put me in truſt, to love him that is
honeſt, to converſe with him that is wife and ſayes lit-
tle, to fear judgement, to fight when I cannot chufe, and
to eat no fifth.

Lear. What art thou ?

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

Lear. If thou be'ſt as poor for a Subject, as he's for a
King, thou art poor enough. What would'ſt thou ?

Kent. Service.

Lear. Whom would'ſt thou ſerve ?

Kent. You.

Lear. Do'ſt thou know me, ſellow ?

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

Lear. What's that ?

Kent. Authority.

Lear. What ſervices canſt thou do ?

Kent. I can keep honeſt counſels, ſide, run, marre a
curious tale in telling it, and deliver a plain meſlage
bluntly: that which ordinary men are ſit for, I am qua-
lified in, and the beſt of me, is Diligence.

Lear. How old art thou ?

Kent. Not ſo young, Sir, to love a woman for ſinging,
or ſo old to doat on her for any thing. I have years on
my back fourty eight.

Lear. Follow me, thou ſhalt ſerve me, if I like thee no
worſe after dinner, I will not part from thee yet. Dinner
ho, dinner, where's my knave ? my fool ? go you and call
my fool hither, You, you, Sirrah, where's my Daughter ?

Enter Steward.

Stew. So pleafe you -----

Exit.

Lear. What ſayes the fellow there ? Call the Clot-
pole back: where's my Fool ? Ho, I think the world's a-
fleep, how now ? where's that Mungrel ?

Knigh. He ſayes, my Lord, your Daughters is not well,

Lear. Why came not the ſlave back to me when I
call'd him ?

Knigh. Sir, he anſWERED in the roundeſt manner, he
would not.

Lear. He would not ?

Knigh. My Lord, I know not what the matter is, but
to my judgement your highneſs is not entertain'd with
that Ceremonious affection as you were wont, there's a
great abatement of kindneſs appears as well in the gene-
ral dependants, as in the Duke himself alſo, and your
Daughter.

Lear. Ha ? ſay'ſt thou ſo ?

Knigh. I beſeech you pardon me, my Lord, if I be
miftaken, for my duty cannot be filent, when I think
your highneſs is wrong'd.

Lear. Thou but remembreſt me of my own Conce-
ption, I have perceived a moſt faint neglect of late,
which I have rather blamed as mine own jealous curioſity,
then as a very pretence and purpofe of unkindneſs; I will
look further into't: but where's my Fool ? I have not
feen him this two dayes,

Knigh. Since my young Ladies going into France,

Ttt 2

The Tragedy of King Lear.

766

Sir, the fool hath much pined away.

Lear. No more of that, I have noted it well; go you and tell my Daughter, I would speak with her. Go you call hither my Fool; Oh you Sir, come you hither Sir, who am I Sir?

Enter Steward.

Stew. My Ladies Father.

Lear. My Ladies Father? my Lords knave, you whom dog, you flave, you curre.

Stew. I am none of these, my Lord, I befeech your pardon.

Lear. Do you bandy looks with me, you Rascal?

Stew. I'le not be trucken, my Lord.

Kent. Nor tript neither, you base Foot-ball Player.

Lear. I thank thee, fellow.

Thou few'ft me, and I'le love thee.

Kent. Come, sir, arife, away, I'le teach you differences: away, away, if you will meaſure your lubeſers length again, tarry, but away, go to, have you wifdome, ſo.

Lear. Now my friendly knave I thank thee, there's earnſt of thy ſervice.

Enter Fool.

Fool. Let me hire him too, here's my Coxcomb.

Lear. How now my pretty knave, how doſt thou ?

Fool. Sirrah, you were beſt take my Coxcomb.

Kent. Why, my Boy ?

Fool. Why ? for taking one's part that's out of favour ; may, and thou canſt not ſimile as the wind ſits, thou'lt catch cold ſhortly , there take my Coxcomb; why this fellow has banifh'd two on's daughters, and did the third a bleſſing againſt his will; if thou follow him, thou muſt needs wear my Coxcomb. How now Nuncle ? would I had two Coxcombs, and two Daughters.

Lear. Why, my Boy ?

Fool. If I give them all my living, I'd keep my Coxcomb my ſelf, there's mine, beg another of thy Daughters.

Lear. Take heed, Sirrah, the whip.

Fool. Tiuſh's a dog muſt to kennel, he muſt be whipt out, when the Lady Brach may stand by th'fire and ſtink.

Lear. A peſtilent gail to me.

Fool. Sirra, I'le teach thee a ſpeech.

Lear. Doe.

Fool. Mark it Nuncle ; Have more then thou ſhoweſt, Speak leſs then thou knoweſt, Lend leſs then thou oweſt, Ride more then thou goeſt, Learn more then thou troweſt, Set leſs then thou throweſt : Leave thy drink and thy whore, And keep in dore, And thou haſt have more, Then two tens to a ſcore.

Kent. This is nothing, fool.

Fool. Then 'tis like the breath of an unſee'd Lawyer, you give me nothing for't, can you make no uſe of nothing, Nuncle ?

Lear. Why no, Boy, *

Nothing can be made out of nothing.

Fool. Paythe tell him, so much the rent of his Land comes to, he will not believe a Fool.

Lear. A bitter Fool.

Fool. Doſt thou know the difference, my Boy, between a bitter Fool, and a sweet one ?

Lear. No Lad; teach me.

Fool. Nuncle, give me an egg, and I'le give thee two Crowns.

Lear. What two Crowns ſhall they be ?

Fool. Why after I'have cut the egg i'th'middle and eat up the meat, the two Crowns of the egg: when thou cloveſt thy Crown i'th'middle, and gav'ſt away both parts, thou boar'ſt thine Aſon thy back o're the dirt, thou haſt little wit in thy bled crown, when thou gav'ſt thy golden one away: if I ſpeak like my ſelf in this, let him be whipt that firſt finds it ſo.

Fools had ne're leſſ grace in a year,
For wifemen are grown foppiſh,
And know not how their wits to wear,
Their manners are ſo apiſh.

Lear. When were you want to be ſo full of Songs, firra?

Fool. I have uſed it Nuncle, e're ſince thou mad'ſt thy Daughters thy Mothers, for when thou gav'ſt them the rod, and put'ſt down thine own breeches, then they

For sudden joy did weep,
And I for ſorrow ſung,
That ſuch a King ſhould play bo-peep,
And go the Fools among.

Paythe Nuncle keep a School-Mafter that can teach thy Fool to lye, I would fain learn to lye.

Lear. And you lye, firrah, we'll have you whipt.

Fool. I marvel what kin thou and thy daughters are: they'll have me whipt for ſpeaking true: thou ſt have me whipt for lying, and ſometimes I am whipt, for holding my peace. I had rather be any kind o'thing then a fool, and yet I would not be thee, Nuncle; thou haſt pared thy wit o'both ſides, and left nothing i'th'middle; here comes one o' the parings.

Enter Gonerill.

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

Fool. Thou waſt a pretty fellow when thou had'ſt 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 fool, thou art nothing. Yes forfooth I will hold my tongue, ſo your face bids me, though you lay nothing.

Mum, mum, he that keeps nor cruſt, nor crum,
Weary of all, ſhall want ſome. That's a ſheal'd Pefcod.

Gon. Not onely, Sir, this, your all-licenc'd Fool, But other of your infolent reuſume

Do hourly Carp and Quarrel, breaking forth
In rank, (and not to be endured) riots, Sir,
I had thought by making this well known unto you,
To have found a ſafe redrefs, but now grow fearfull
By what your ſelf too late have iſoke and done,
That you proteaſt this courſe, and put it on
By your allowance, which if you ſhould, the fault
Would not ſcape cenſure, nor the redrefſes ſleep,
Which in the tender of a wholeſome weal,
Might in their working do you that oſtence,
Which eſſe were ſhame, that then neceſſity
Will call diſcreet proceeding.

Fool. For you know, Nuncle, the Hedge-Sparrow fed the Cuckooe ſo long, that it had it's head bit off by it's young, ſo out went the Candle, and we were left darkling.

Lear. Are you our Daughter ?

Gon. I would you would make uſe of your good wifdome, (Whereof I know you are ſraught) and put away These dispoſitions, which of late transport you From what you rightly are.

Fool.

["The Tragedy of King Lear.", "767", "Fool. May not an Aſs know, when the Cart draws the Horſe?", "Whoop Jug I love thee.", "Lear. Do's any here know me ?", "This is not Lear :", "Do's Lear walk thus ? Speak thus ? Where are his eyes ?", "Either his Notion wakenſ, his Difcernings", "Are Lethargied. Ha ! Waking ? 'Tis not ſo ;", "Who is it that can tell me who I am ?", "Fool. Lear's ſhadow.", "Lear. Your name, fair Gentlewoman ?", "Gon. This admiration, Sir, is much o'th'favour", "Of other your new pranks. I do beſeeth you", "To understand my purpofes aright :", "As you are Old, and Reverend, ſhould be Wifc.", "Here do you keep a hundred Knights and Squires,", "Men ſo disorder'd, ſo deboſh'd, and bold,", "That this our Court inſeſted, with their manners,", "Shews like a riotous Inne ; Epicurifine and Luft", "Makes it more like a Tavern, or a Brothell,", "Then a grac'd Palace. The ſhame it ſelf doth ſpeak", "For inſtant remedy. Be then defir'd,", "By her that eſſe will take the thing the begs,", "A little to diſquintion your Train,", "And the remainders that ſhall ſtill depend,", "To be ſuch men as may beſort your Age,", "Which know themselves, and you.", "Lear. Darkneſs, and Devils,", "Saddle my horſes : call my Train together.", "Degenerate Baſtard, I'le not trouble thee ;", "Yet have I left a Daughter.", "Gon. You ſtrike my people, and your disorder'd rab-\nble, make ſenſors of their Betters.", "Enter Albany.", "Lear. Woe, that too late repents :", "Is it your will, ſpeak, Sir ? Prepare my Horſes,", "Ingratitude ! thou Marble-hearted Fiend,", "More hideous when thou ſhew'ſt thee in a Child,", "Then the Sea-monſter.", "Alb. Pray, Sir, be patient.", "Lear. Deteſted Kite, thou lyeſt.", "My Train are men of choice, and rareſt parts,", "That all particulars of duty know,", "And in the moſt exact regard, ſupport", "Their worſhips of their name. O moſt small fault,", "How ugly did'ſt thou in Cordelia ſhow ?", "Which like an Engine, wrenſt my frame of Nature", "From the fixt place : drew from my heart all love,", "And added to the gall. O Lear, Lear, Lear!", "Beat at this gate that let thy Folly in,", "And thy dear Judgement out. Go, go, my people.", "Alb. My Lord, I am guileſſs, as I am ignorant\nOf what hath moved you.", "Lear. It may be ſo, my Lord,", "Hear Nature, hear dear Goddeſs, hear :", "Suspend thy purpofe, if thou did'ſt intend", "To make this Creature fruitfull :", "Into her Womb convey ſterility,", "Dry up in her the Organs of increafe,", "And from her derogate body, never ſpring", "A Babe to honour her. If the muſt teem,", "Create her Child of Spleen, that it may live", "And be a thwart, diſnatur'd torment to her.", "Let it ſtamp wrinckles in her brow of youth,", "With cadent Teares fret Channels in her Cheeks,", "Turn all her Mother's pains, and benefits", "To laughter, and contempt: That ſhe may feel,", "How ſharper then a Serpent's tooth it is,", "To have a thankleſs Child. Away, away.", "Alb. Now gods that we adore.", "Whereof comes this ?", "Gon. Never afflіct your ſelf to know of it :", "But let his diſpoſition have that ſcope", "As dotage gives it.", "Enter Lear.", "Lear. What fifty of my followers at a clap ?", "Within a fortnight ?", "Alb. What's the matter, Sir ?", "Lear. I'le tell thee :", "Life and death, I am aſham'd", "That thou haſt power to ſhake my manhood thus,", "That theſe hot tears, which break from me perſorce,", "Should make thee worth them,", "Blaſts and Foggs upon thee :", "Th'untented woundings of a Father's curſe", "Pierce every ſenſe about thee. Old fond eyes,", "Beweep thee once again, I'le pluck ye out,", "And caſt you with the waters that you loſe", "To temper Clay. Ha ? Let it be ſo.", "I have another daughter,", "Who I am ſure is kind and comfortable :", "When ſhe ſhall hear this of thee, with her nails", "She'll ſlea thy Wolvith viſage. Thou haſt find,", "That I'le ſe ſume the ſhape which thou doſt think", "I have caſt off for ever.", "Gon. Do you mark that ?", "Alb. I cannot be ſo partial, Gonerill,", "To the great love I bear you.", "Gon. Pray you content. What Oſwald hoa ?", "You Sir, more Knave then Fool, after your Maſter.", "Fool. Nuncle Lear, Nuncle Lear,", "Tarry, take the Fool with thee :", "A Fox, when one has caught her,", "And ſuch a daughter,", "Should ſure to the ſlaughte,", "If my Cap would buy a Halter,", "So the Fool follows after.", "Exit.", "Gon. This man hath had good counſel,", "A hundred Knights ?", "'Tis politick, and ſafe to let him keep", "At point a hundred Knights : yes, that on every dream,", "Each, buz, each fancy, each complaint, diſlike,", "He may enſuare his dotage with their powers,", "And hold our lives in mercy. Oſwald, I ſay.", "Alb. Well, you may fear too far ;", "Gon. Safer then truſt too far ;", "Let me ſtill take away the harnis I fear,", "Not fear ſtill to be taken. I know his heart,", "What he hath utter'd, I have writ my ſifter :", "If ſhe'll ſuſtain him, and his huudred Knights", "When I have ſhew'd th' unſitneſſs.", "Enter Steward.", "How now Oſwald?", "What have you writ that letter to my Sifter ?", "Stew. I, Madam.", "Gon. Take you ſome company

The Tragedy of King Lear.

And haften your return ; no, no, my Lord,
This milky gentlenefs, and course of yours
Though I condemn not, yet under pardon
You are much more at task for want of wisedome,
Then prais'd for harmfull mildneſs.

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

Gon. Nay then -----

Alb. Well, well, the vent.

Exeunt.

## Scena Quinta.

Enter Lear, Kent, Gentleman, and Fool.

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

Kent. I will not ſleep, my Lord, till I have delivered your Letter.

Exit.

Fool. If a man's brains were in his heels, wert not in danger of kibes ?

Lear. I, boy.

Fool. Then I prythee be merry, thy wit ſhall not go flip-flod.

Lear. Ha, ha, ha.

Fool. Shalt fee thy other Daughter will uſe thee kind-
ly, for though ſhe as like this, as a Crab's like an Ap-
ple, yet I can tell what I can tell.

Lear. What canſt tell, Boy ?

Fool. She will tafe as like this, as a Crab do's to a
Crab: canſt thou tell why ones Noſe ſtands i'th'middle
on's face ?

Lear. No.

Fool. Why to keep ones eyes of either ſide's noſe, that what a man cannot ſmell out, he may ſpy into.

Lear. I did her wrong.

Fool. Canſt tell how an Oyſter makes his ſhell ?

Lear. No.

Fool. Nor I neither; but I can tell why a Snail has a houſe.

Lear. Why ?

Fool. Why to put's head in, not to give it away to his daughters, and leave his hornes without a cafe.

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

Fool. Thy Aſſes are gone about'em; the reaſon why the Seven ſtarres are no moe then ſeven, is a pretty reaſon.

Lear. Because they are not eight.

Fool. Yes indeed, thou would'ſt make a good ſool.

Lear. To tak't again perſorce ? Monſter ingratitude !

Fool. If you were my ſool, Nuncle, I'ſd have thee beaten for being old before thy time.

Lear. How's that ?

Fool. Thou ſhould'ſt not have bin old, till thou had'ſt bin wife.

Lear. O let me not be mad, not mad ſweet heaven :
keep me in temper, I would not be mad. How now, are the horſes ready ?

Gent. Ready, my Lord.

Lear. Come Boy.

Fool. She that's a Maid now, and laughs at my departure,
Shall not be a Maid long, unless things be cut ſhorter.

Exeunt.

Enter Baſtard, and Curan, ſeverally.

Baſt. Save thee, Curan.

Cur. And you, Sir, I have bin

With your Father, and given him notice

That the Duke of Cornwall, and Regan his Dutchels

Will be here with him this night.

Baſt. How comes that ?

Cur. Nay I know not, you have heard of the news a-
broad, I mean the whisper'd ones, for they are yet but
car-kiffing arguments.

Baſt. Not I: pray you what are they ?

Cur. Have 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 to night ? the better beſt,
This weaves it ſelf perſorce into my buſineſs,
My father hath ſet guard to take my brother,
And I have one thing of a queazie queſtion
Which I muſt aſt, briefeneſs, and Fortune work,

Enter Edgar.

Brother, a word, defенд ; brother I ſay,

My father watches ; O Sir, flye this place,

Intelligence is given where you are hid ;

You have now the good advantage of the night,
Have you not ſpoken 'gainſt the Duke of Cornwall ?

He's coming hither, now i'th'night, i'th'haſte,

And Regan with him, have you nothing ſaid

Upon his party 'gainſt the Duke of Albany ?

Advise your ſelf.

Edg. I am ſure not', not a word.

Baſt. I hear my father coming, pardon me :

In cunning, I muſt draw my Sword upon you :

Draw, feem to defend your ſelf,

Now quit you well.

Yield, come before my father, light hoa, here,

Flye Brother, Torches, to ſarewell,

Exit Edgar.

Some bloud drawn on me would beget opinion

Of my more fierce endeavouſer. I have been drunkards

Do more then this in ſport ; Father, father,

Stop, ſtop, no help ?

Enter Gloſter, and Servants with Torches.

Glo. Now Edmund, where's the villain ?

Baſt. Here flood he in the dark, his ſharp Sword out,
Mumbling of wicked Charms, conjuring the Moon
To ſtand his auspicious Miftreſs.

Glo. But where is he ?

Baſt. Look, Sir, I bleed.

Glo. Where is the villain, Edmund ?

Baſt. Fled this way, Sir, when by no means he could ---

Glo. Purſue him, ho : go after. By no means, what ?

Baſt. Perſwade me to murther of your Lordship,

But

The Tragedy of King Lear.

But that I told him the revenging gods,
'Gaimt Parricides did all the thunder bend;
Spoke with how manifold, and strong a Bond
The Child was bound toth Father. Sir, in fine,
Seeing how lothly oppofite I ſtood
To his unnatural purpose, in fell motion
With his prepared Sword, he charges home
My unprovided body, latch'd mine arme:
And when he saw my beſt alarum'd ſpirits
Bold in the quarrels right, rouz'd to th'encounter,
Or whether grafted by the noife I made,
Full suddenly he fled.

Gloſt. Let him flye far :

Not in this Land ſhall he remain uncaught
And found; diſpatch, the Noble Duke my Maſter,
My worthy Arch and Patron comes to night,
By his authority I will proclaim it,
That he which finds him ſhall deferve our thanks,
Bringing the murderous Coward to the ſtake:
He that conceals him, death.

Baſt. When I diſſwaded him from his intent,
And found him pight to do it, with curl ſpeech
I threatened to diſcover him; he replied,
Thou unpoſſeſſing Baſtard, doſt thou think,
If I would ſtand against thee, would the repofal
Of any truſt, virtue, or worth in thee.
Make thy words faith'd? No, what ſhould I deny,
(As this I would, though thou did't produce
My very Character) I'ld turn it all
To thy ſuggeſtion, plot, and damned practice:
And thou muſt make a dullard of the world,
If they not thought the profits of my death
Were very pregnant and potential ſpirits
To make thee ſeek it.

Tocket within.

Glo. O ſtrange and faſtned Villain !
Would he deny his Letter, faid he ?
Heaſk, the Duke's trumpets, I know not where he comes,
All Ports I'le bar, the villain ſhall not ſcape,
The Duke muſt grant me that : befides, his picture
I will ſend far and near, that all the Kingdome
May have due note of him, and of my land,
(Loyal and natural Boy) I'le work the means
To make thee capable.

Enter Cornwall, Regan, and Attendants.

Corn. How now, my Noble friend, ſince I came hither
(Which I can call but now) I have heard ſtrangenefs.
Reg. If it be true, all vengeance comes to ſhort
Which can purſue th'offender : how does my Lord ?
Glo. O Madam, my old heart is crack'd, it's crack'd.
Reg. What, did my Father's Godſon ſeek your life ?
He whom my father nam'd, your Edgar :
Glo. O Lady, Lady, ſhame would have 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.
Baſt. Yes, Madam, he was of that confort.
Reg. No marvel then, though he were ill-aſſeeted,
'Tis they have put him on the old man's death,
To have th'expence and waſt of Revenues;
I have this preſent evening from my Sifter
Been well inform'd of them, and with ſuch cautions,
That if they come to ſojourn at my houſe,
I'le not be there.

Cor. Nor I, aſſure thee, Regan ;

Edmund, I hear that you have ſhewn your Father
A Child-like Office.

Baſt. It is my duty, Sir.
Glo. He did bewray his practice, and recei'd
This hurt you fee, ſtriving to apprehend him.

Corn. Is he purſued ?
Glo. I, my good Lord.
Cor. If he be taken, he ſhall never more
Be fear'd of doing harm, make your own purpose,
Howin my ſtrength you pleafe: as for you Edmund,
Whofe virtue and obedience doth this inſtant
So much commend it ſelf, you ſhall be ours,
Natures of ſuch deep truſt, we ſhall much need :
You we firſt ſeize on.

Baſt. I ſhall ſerve you, Sir, truly, how ever eſſe.
Glo. For him I thank your Grace.
Cor. You know not why we came to viſe you.
Reg. Thus out of ſeafon, thredding dark-ey'd night,
Occafions Noble Gloſter of ſome prize,
Wherein we muſt have uſe of your advice.
Our Father he hath writ, ſo hath our Sifter,
Of differences, which I beſt thought it ſet
To anſwer from our home : the ſeveral Meſſengers
From hence attend diſpatch, our good old friend
Lay comforts to your boſome, and beſtow
Your neefull counſel to our buſineſſes,
Which craves the inſtant uſe.

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

Exeunt.

## Scena Secunda.

Enter Kent, and Steward, ſeverally.

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

Kent. I.
Stew. Where may we ſet our horſes ?

Kent. I th'mire,
Stew. Prythee if thou lov't me, tell me,
Kent. I love 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 uſe me thus ? I know thee not.

Kent. Fellow, I know thee.
Stew. What doſt thou know me for ?

Kent. A Knave, a Rafcal, an eater of broken meats,
a bafe, proud, ſhallow, beggarly, threſuited, hundred
pound, filthy woolſted-ſtocking knave, a Lilly-livered,
aſction-taking, whoreſon glais-gazing, ſuper-ſerviceable
ſinical Rogue, one-Trunk-inheriting ſlave, one that
would'ſt be a Bawd in way of good ſervice, and art no-
thing but the composition of a Knave, Beggar, Coward,
Pandar, and the Son and Heir of a Mung'il Bitch, one
whom I will beat into clamorous whining, if thou deny'ſt
the leaſt ſyllable of thy addition.

Stew. Why, what a monſtrous fellow art thou, thus
to rail on one, that is neither known of thee, nor knows
thee ?

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

The Tragedy of King Lear.

for though it be night, yet the Moon fhines, I'le make a
fop o'ch'Moonfhine of you, you whorfon Culliblea
Barbar-monger, draw.

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

Kent. Draw, you. Rafcal, you come with Letters a-gainft the King, and take Vanity the puppet's part, a-gainft the Royalty of her father: draw, you Rogue, or I'le fo carbonado your thanks, draw you Rafcal, come your wayes.

Stew. Help, ho, murther, help.

Kent. Strike you slave: stand rogue, stand you neat
slave, ftrike.

Stew. Help hoa, murther, murther.

Enter Baftard, Cornwall, Regan, Glofter, Servant.

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

Kent. With you, good man, boy, if you pleafe, come,
I'le flush ye, come on young Mafter.

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

Corn. Keep peace upon your lives, he dyes that ftrikes
again, what is the matter?

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

Cor. What is your difference, ſpeak?

Stew. I am ſcarce in breath, my Lord.

Kent. No marvel, you have ſo befir'd your Valour,
you cowardly Rafcal, nature disclaims in thee: a Taylor
made thee.

Corn. Thou art a ſtrange fellow, a Taylor make a man?

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

Cor. Speak yet, how grew your quarrel?

Stew. The ancient Ruffian, Sir, whoſe life I have ſpar'd at ſute of his gray beard.

Kent. Thou whoreſon Zed, thou unnecessary letter,
my Lord, if you will give me leave, I will tread this un-
boulted villain into morter, and daub the wall of a Jakes
with him, Spare my gray-beard, you wag-tail?

Cor. Peace, firrah,

You beaſtly knave, know you no reverence ?

Kent. Yes, Sir, but anger hath a privilege.

Cor. Why art thou angry ?

Kent. That ſuch a ſlave as this ſhould wear a Sword,
Who wears no honeſty: ſuch ſmiling rogues as theſe,
Like Rats oft bite the holy cords a-twain,
Which art i'trintrince, t'unloofe: ſmooth every paffion
That in the natures of their Lords rebell,
Being oil to fire, ſnow to the colder moods,
Renege, affirmit, and turn their Halcyon beaks
With every gale, and vary of their Maſters,
Knowing naught (like dogges) but following:
A plague upon your Epilepick viſage,
Smole you my ſpeeches, as I were a fool ?
Goofe, if I had you upon Sarum plain
I'd drive ye cackling home to Camelot.

Corn. What art thou mad, old fellow ?

Gloſt. How fell you out, fay that ?

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

Corn. Why doſt thou call him Knave ?

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 plain,
I have ſeen better faces in my time,

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

Corn. This is ſome ſellow,

Who having prais'd for bluntneſs, doth affect
A fawcy roughneſs, and conſtrains the garb
Quite from his Nature. He cannot flatter, he,
An honeſt mind and plain, he muſt ſpeak truth,
And they will take it ſo, if not, he's plain.

Theſe kind of Knaves I know, which in this plainneſſ,
Harbour more craft, and more corrupter ends,
Then twenty filly-ducking obſervants,
That ſtretch their duties nicely.

Kent. Sir, in good faith, in ſincere verity,
Under th'allowance of your great aspeſt,
Whofe influence like the wreath of radiant fire
On flicking Phœbus front.

Corn. What mean it by this?

Kent. To go out of my dialeſt: which you difcom-
mend ſo much; I know, Sir, I am no flatterer, he that
beguil'd you in a plain accent, was a plain Knave, which
for my part I will not be, though I ſhould win your diſ-
pleasure to entreat me to't.

Corn. What was th'offence you gave him ?

Stew. I never gave him any:

It pleas'd the King his Maſter very late
To ſtrike at me upon his miſconſtruction,
When he compact, & flattering his diſpleasure
Tript me behind: being down, inſulted, rail'd.
And put upon him ſuch a deal of Man,
That worthied him, got praeſts of the King,
For him attempting, who was ſelf-subdu'd,
And in the fleſhment of this dead exploit,
Drew on me here again.

Kent. None of theſe Rogues, and Cowards
But Ajax is their fool.

Corn. Fetch forth the Stocks?

You stubborn ancient Knave, you reverent Braggart,
We'll teach you.

Kent. Sir, I am too old to learn :

Call not your Stocks for me, I ſerve the King;
On whose employment I was ſent to you,
You ſhall do ſmall reſpects, ſhew too bold malice
Aſainſt the Grace, and Perſon of my Maſter,
Stocking his Meſſenger.

Corn. Fetch forth the Stocks ;

As I have life and honour, there ſhall he fit 'till Noon.

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

Kent. Why Madam, if I were your Father's dog,
You ſhouſt not uſe me ſo.

Reg. Sir, being his Knave, I will. Stocks brought out.

Corn. This is a fellow of the ſelf-fame colour,
Our Sifter ſpeaks 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's ſo flightly valued in his Meſſenger,
Should have him thus reſtrained.

Corn. I'le anſwer that.

Reg. My Sifter may receive it much more worſe,
To have her Gentleman abus'd, affaulted.

Corn. Come, my Lord, away.

Exit.

Glo. I am forry for thee friend, 'tis the Dukes pleasure,
Whofe diſpoſition all the world well knows

Will not be rubb'd nor ſlopt, I'le intreat for thee.

Ken. Pray do not, fir, I have watch'd and travel'd hard,
Some time I ſhall fleep out, the reſt I'le whifle :

A good man's fortune may grow out at heels :

Give

The Tragedy of King Lear.

771

Give you good morrow.

Glo. The Duke's to blame in this,
'Twill be ill taken. Exit.

Kent. Good King, that must approve the common faw,
Thou out of heaven's benediction com'ft
To the warm Sun.

Approach thou Beacon to this under Globe,
That by thy comfortable Beans I may
Perufe this Letter. Nothing almost fees miracles
But misery. I know us from Cordelia,
Who hath moft fortunately been inform'd
Of my obfeured course. And shall find time
From this enormous State, seeking to give
Loſſes their remedies. All weary and o're-watch'd,
Take vantage heavy eyes, not to behold
This ſhamefull lodging. Fortune goodnight,
Smile once more, turn thy wheel.

Enter Edgar.

Edg. I heard my ſelf proclaim'd,
And by the happy hollow of a Tree,
Etcap'd the hunt. No Port is free, no place
That guard, and moſt unusual vigilance
Do's not attend my taking. Whileſus I may ſcape
I will preferve my ſelf: and am bethought
To take the baſſt, and moſt pooreſt ſhape
That ever penury in contempt of man,
Brought near to beaſt: my face I'le grime with filth,
Blanket my loins, put all my hairs in knots,
And with prefented kadeſne's out-face
The Winds, and perſecutions of the sky:
The Counſtrey gives me proofe and preſident
Of Bedlam beggars, who with roaring voices
Strike in their numm'd and mortified Armes,
Pins, Wooden-pricks, Nailes, Sprigs of Rofemary:
And with this horrible objeſt, from low Farmes,
Poor pelting Villages, Sheep's-Coats, and Mills,
Sometimes with Lunatick bans, sometimes with Prayers
Inforce their charity: poor Turlingad, poor Tom.
That's something yet: Edgar I nothing am.

Exit.

Enter Lear, Fool, and Gentleman.

Lear. 'Tis ſtrange that they should ſo depart from
And not ſend back my Meſſenger. (home)

Gent. As I learn d,

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

Kent. Haile to thee, Noble Maſter.

Lear. Ha ? Mak'ſt thou this ſhame thy paſtine ?

Kent. No, my Lord.

Fool. Ha, ha, he wears Crewel Garters; horſes are ti'd
by the heads, Dogs and Bears by th'neck, Monkies
by th'loins, and Men by th'legs; when a man is over-
luſy at legs, then he wears wooden nether-stocks.

Lear. What's he,

That hath ſo much thy place miſtook

To fet thee here ?

Kent. It is both he and the,

Your Son, and Daughter.

Lear. No.

Kent. Yes.

Lear. No I ſay.

Kent. I ſay yea.

Lear. By Jupiter I ſwear no.

Kent. By Juno, I ſwear I.

Lear. They duſt not do't:

They could not, would not do't: 'tis worſe then murthe:
To do upon reſpect ſuch violent outrage :
Reſolve me with all modeſt haſte, which way
Thou might'ſt deferve, or they impoſe this uſage,
Coming from us.

Kent. My Lord, when at their home
I did commend your highneſs Letters to them,
E're I was riven from the place, that ſhewed
My duty kneeling, came there a reeking Poſſe,
Stew'd in his haſte, half breathleſſ, panting forth
From Gonerill his Miftrifs, ſalutation ;
Deliver'd Letters ſpight of intermiſſion,
Which prefently they read ; on thofe contents
They ſummon'd up their meiny, ſtraight took horſe,
Commanded me to follow, and attend

The leiſure of their anſwer, gave me cold looks,
And meeting here the other Meſſenger,
Whofe welcome I perceiv'd had poſſon'd mine,
Being the very fellow which of late
Diſpla'd ſo fawcely againſt your highneſs,

Having more man then witt about me, drew ;
He rais'd the houſe, with loud and coward crieſ,
Your ſon and daughter found this trefpaſs worth

The ſhame which here it ſuffers. (way,

Fool. Winter's not gone yet, if the wild Geene fly that
Fathers that wear rags, do make their Children blind,
But fathers that bear bags, shall fee their children kind.

Fortune that arrant whore, ne're turns the key to th'poor.
But for all this thou hſalt have as many Dolors for thy
Daughters, as thou canſt tell in a year. (dear

Lear. Oh how this Mother ſwells up toward my heart !

Hyrſorica paſſo, down thou climbing ſorrow,
Thy Element's below ; where is this daughter ?

Kent. With the Earl, Sir, here within.

Lear. Follow me not, ſtay here.

Exit.

Geu. Made you more offence,

But what you ſpeak of.

Kent. None ;

How chance the King comes with ſo ſmall a number ?

Fool. And thou had'ſt been ſet i'th'Stocks for that
question, thoud'ſt well deferv'd it.

Kent. Why fool?

Fool. We'll ſet thee to ſchool to an Ant, to teach thee
there's no labouring i'th'winter. All that follow their
noſes, are led by their eyes, but blind men, and there's not
a noſe among twenty, but can ſmell him that's tinking;
let go thy hold, when a great wheel runs down a hill,
left it break thy neck with following. But the great
one that goes upward, let him draw thee after : when a
wifeman gives thee better counſel, give me mine again, I
would have none but knaues follow it, ſince a fool gives it.
That Sir, which ferves, and ſeeks for gain,
And follows but for form ;

Will pack, when it begins to rain,
And leave thee in the storm,

And I will tarry, the fool will ſtay,
And let the wifeman flie :
The knaue turns fool that runs away,
The fool no knaue perdy.

Enter Lear, and Gloſter.

Kent. Where learn'd you this, fool ?

Fool. Not i'th'Stocks, fool.

Lear.

The Tragedy of King Lear.

772

Lear. Dany to speak with me ?
They are fick, they are weary,
They have travel'd all the night ? mere fetches,
The Images of revolt and flying off.
Fet me a better anfuer.

Glo. My dear Lord,
You know the fiery quality of the Duke,
How unremovable and fixt he is
In his own course.

Lear. Vengeance, Plague, Death, Confufion :
Fiery ? What quality ? Why Gloster, Glofter,
I'd speak with the Duke of Cornwall, and his wife.

Glo. Well, my good Lord, I have inform'd them fo.
Lear. Inform'd them ? Doft thou understand me man?
Glo. I, my good Lord.
Lear. The King would speak with Cornwall,
The dear Father.

Would with his Daughter ſpeak, commands, tends, ſervice,
Are they inform'd of this ? My breath and bloud :
Fiery ? The ſery Duke, tell the hot Duke that ----
No, but not yet, may be he is not well,
Infirmity doth ſtill neglect all office,
Whereeto our health is bound, we are not our ſelves,
When Nature being oppreſt, commands the mind
To ſuffer with the body : I le forbear,
And am ſfall in out with my more headier will,
To take the indifpos'd and fickly ſit,
For the found man, Death on my ſtate : wherefore
Should he fit here ? This Act perfwades me,
That this remotion of the Duke and her
Is practice only, Give me my ſervant forth :
Go tell the Duke, and's wife, I'd ſpeak with them :
Now prefently : bid them come forth and hear me,
Or at their chamber door I le beat the Drum,
'Till it cry ſleep to death.

Glo. I would have all well betwixt you. Exit.

Lear. Oh me my heart ! my riling heart ! but down.
Fool. Cry to it Nunkle, as the Cockney did to the
Eels, when he put 'em i'th'Paſte alive, he knapt 'em
o'th' Coxcombs with a ſlick, and cryed down wantons,
down ; 'twas his brother, that in pure kindneſs to his
Horſe buttered his Hey.

Enter Cornwall, Regan, Glofter, Servants.

Lear. Good morrow to you both,

Corn. Hail to your Grace. Kent here fet at liberty.

Reg. I am glad to fee your Highneſs.

Lear, Regan, I think you are, I know what reafon,
I have to think fo, if thou should'ſt not be glad,
I would divorce me from thy Mother's Tombe,
Sépulchring an Adulterer's. O are you free ?

Some other time for that. Beloved Regan
Thy ſitter's naught: Oh Regan, ſhe hath tyed
Sharp-tooth'd unkindneſs, like a vulture here,
I can ſcare ſpeak to thee, thou'lt not believe
With how deprav'd a quality. Oh Regan.

Reg. I pray you, Sir, take patience, I have hope
You leſs know how to value her defert,
Than ſhe to ſcant her duty.

Lear. Say ? how is that ?

Reg. I cannot think my ſitter in the leaſt
Would fail her Obligation. If Sir perchance
She have reſtrain'd the Riots of your Followers,
'Tis on ſuch ground, and to ſuch wholesome end,
As clears her from all blame.

Lear. My curſes on her.

Reg. O Sir, you are old,
Nature in you ſtands on the very Verge
Of her confine: you ſhould be rul'd, and led
By ſome diſcretion, that diſcerns your ſtate
Better then you your ſelf: therefore I pray you,
That to our Sifter, you do make return,
Say you have wrong'd her.

Lear. Ask your forſivenefs ?
Do you but mark how this becomes the hoſſe ?
Dear daughter, I confes that I am old ;
Age is unnecessary : on my knees I beg,
That you'll vouchſaſe me Rayment, Bed, and Food.

Reg. Good Sir, no more : theſe are unfightely tricks :
Return you to my Sifter.

Lear. Never, Regan :

She haſt abated me of half my Train :
Look'd black upon me, ſtrook me with her Tongue
Moſt Serpent-like, upon the very heart.
All the ſtor'd Vengeances of heaven, fall

On her ingratefull top : ſtrike her young bones
You taking Aires with Lameneſs.

Corn. Fie Sir, ſie.

Lear. You nimble Lightrnings, dart your blinding ſlames
Into her ſcomfull eyes : infect her Beauty,
You Fen-fuck'd Foggs, drawn by the powerfull Sun
To fall, and blifter.

Reg. O the bleſt gods !

So will you with on me, when the rafh mood is on.

Lear. No Regan, thou ſhalt never have my curſe :
Thy tender-heſted Nature ſhall not give
Thée o're to harſeneſs : Her eyes are ſterſe, but thine
Do comfort, and not burn. 'Tis not in thee
To grudge my pleafures, to cut off my Train,
To bandy haſty words, to ſcant my ſizes,
And in conclusion, to oppoſe the bolt

Against my comming in. Thou better know'ſt
The Offices of Nature, bond of Childhood,
Effects of Curteſie, dues of Gratitude :
Thy half o'th' Kingdome haſt thou not forgot,
Wherein I thee endow'd.

Reg. Good Sir, to' th' purpofe. Tucket within.

Lear. Who put my man i'th'Stocks?

Enter Steward.

Corn. What Trumpet's that ?

Reg. I know't my Sifter's : this approves her Letter,
That the would ſoon be here. Is your Lady come ?

Lear. This is a Slave, whose eafie borrowed pride
Dwells in the ſickly grace of her he follows.

Out Varlet, from my fight.

Corn. What means your Grace ?

Enter Gonerill.

Lear. Who ſtockt my Servant? Regan, I have good hope
Thou did'ſt not know on't.

Who comes here ? O heavens !

If you do love old men ; if your ſweet ſway

Allow Obedience : if you your ſelves are old,

Make it your caufe : Send down, and take my part.

Art not aſham'd to look upon this Beard ?

O Regan, will you take her by the hand ?

Gon. Why not by th'hand, Sir? How have I offended?
All's not offence that indiſcretion finds
And dotage terms ſo.

Lear. O fides, you are too tough !

Will you yet hold ?

How came my man i'th' Stocks ?

Corn. I fet him there ; Sir : but his own Disorders

Deferv'd

The Tragedy of King Lear.

773

Deferv'd much lefs advancement.

Lear. You ? Did you?

Reg. I pray you Father, being weak, seem so.
If'till the expiration of your Moneth
You will return and fojourn with my Sifter,
Difminfing half your train, come then to me,
I am now from home, and out of that provision,
Which shall be needfull for your entertainment.

Lear. Return to her ? and fifty men difminſ'd?
No, rather I abjure all roofs, and chufe
To wage againſt the enmity o'th'air,
To be a Comrade with the Wolf and Owle,
Necefities ſharp pinch. Return with her ?
Why? the hot-bloudied France, that dowerleſs took
Our youngefth born, I could as well be brought
To knee his throne, and, Squire-like, penſion beg,
To keep bafe life a-foot; return with her ?
Perſwade me rather to be ſlave and ſumpter
To this detefted groom.

Gon. At your choice, Sir.

Lear. I prythee Daughter do not make me mad,
I will not trouble thee, my Child: farewell :
We'll no more meet, no more fee one another,
But yet thou art my ſleſh, my bloud, my daughter,
Or rather a diſeale that's in my ſleſh,
Which I muſt needs call mine. Thou art a Bile,
A plague-fore, or imboſſed Carbuncle
In my corrupted bloud. But I'le not chide thee.
Let ſhame come when it will, I do not call it,
I do not bid the thunder-bearer ſhoot,
Nor tell tales of thee to high-judging Jove,
Mend when thou canſt, be better at thy leifure,
I can be patient, I can ſtay with Regan,
I and my hundred Knights.

Reg. Not altogether ſo,
I look'd not for you yet, nor am provided
For your fit welcome, give ear Sir to my Sifter,
For that eſt that mingle reaſon with your paffion,
Muſt be content to think you old, and ſo,
But the knows what ſhe does.

Lear. Is this well ſpoken ?

Reg. I dare avouch it, Sir, what fifty Followers ?
Is it not well? what should you need of more ?
Yea, or ſo many ? Sith that both charge and danger,
Speak 'gainſt to great a number: How in one houſe
Should many people, under two commands
Hold amity ? 'tis hard, almost impoffible.

Gon. Why might not you my Lord, receive attendance
From that eſt that the calls Servants, or from mine?

Reg. Why not, my Lord?

If then they chanc'd to ſlack ye,
We could controll them ; if you will come to me,
(For now I ſpy a danger) I intreat you
To bring five and twenty, to no more
Will I give place or notice.

Lear. I gave you all.

Reg. And in good time you gave it.

Lear. Made you my Guardians, my Depositaries,
But keep a reſervation to be followed
With ſuch a number ? what, muſt I come to you
With five and twenty ? Regan, ſaid you ſo ?

Reg. And ſpeak't again, my Lord, no more with me.
Lear. Thoſe wicked Creatures yet do look well favor'd,
When others are more wicked, not being the worſt
Stands in ſome rank of praeſe; I'le go with thee,
Thy fifty yet doth double five and twenty.

And thou art twice her Love.

Gon. Hear me, my Lord ;

What need you five and twenty ? Ten ? or five ?
To follow in a houſe, where twice ſo many.

Have a command to tend you?

Reg. What need one?

Lear. O reaſon not the need: our bafeſt Beggars
Are in the pooreſt thing ſuperfluous,
Allow not Nature, more then Nature needs :
Man's life is cheap as Beaſts. Thou art a Lady ;
Ifonely to go warm were gorgeous.

Why Nature needs not what thou gorgeous wear'st,
Which ſcarcely keeps thee warm, but for true need,
You heavens, give me that patience, patience I need,
You fee me here (you gods) a poor old man,
As full of grief asage, wretched in both,
If it be you that ſirres theſe Daughters hearts
Againſt their father, fool me not ſo much.
To bear it tamely: touch me with Noble anger,
And let not women's weapons, water drops,
Stain my man's cheeks. No you unnatural Hags,
I will have ſuch revenges on you both,
That all the world ſhall ----- I will do ſuch things,
What they are yet, I know not, but they ſhall be,
The terrors of the earth; you think I'le weep,
No, I'le not weep, I have full cauſe of weeping.

Storm and Tempest.

But this heart ſhall break into a hundred thouſand flaws,
Or e're I weep. O fool, I ſhall go mad.

Exeunt.
Corn. Let us withdraw, 'twill be a ſtorm.

Reg. This houſe is little, the old man and's people
Cannot be well beſtow'd.

Gon. 'Tis his own blame hath put himſelf from reſt,
And muſt needs taſſe his folly.

Reg. For his particular, I'le receive him gladly,
But not one follower.

Gon. So am I purpox'd,
Where is my Lord of Gloſter?

Enter Gloſter.

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

Glo. The King is in high rage.

Corn. Whither is he going?

Glo. He calls to horſe, but will I know not whither.

Corn. 'Tis beſt to give him way, he leads himſelf.

Gon. My Lord, intreat him by no means to ſtay.

Glo. Alack the night comes on: and the high winds

Do forely ruffle, for many Miles about

There's ſcarrce a Buſh.

Reg. O Sir, to wilſull men,

The injuries that they themselves procure,
Muſt be their School-Maſters: ſhut up your doors,
He is attended with a deſperate train,
And what they may incenſe him to, being apr,
To have his ear abus'd, wifdome bids fear.

Corn. Shut up your doors, my Lord, 'tis a wild night,
My Regan counſels well: come out o'th' ſtorm.

Actus Tertius. Scena Prima.

Storm ſkill. Enter Kent, and a Gentleman, ſeverally.

Kent. Who's there befides foul weather ?

Gen. One minded like the weather, moſt unquiely.

Kent.

The Tragedy of King Lear.

774

Kent. I know you: where's the King?
Gent. Contending with the fretful Elements,
Bids the wind blow the Earth into the Sea,
Or fwell the curled Waters 'bove the Main,
That things might change, or ceafe.
Kent. But who is with him?
Gent. None but the fool, who labours to out-jeft
His heart-ftrook injuries.
Kent. Sir, I do know you,
And dare upon the warrant of my note
Commend a dear thing to you. There is divifion
(Although as yet the face of it is cover'd
With mutual cunning') twixt Albany, and Cornwall:
Who have, as who have not, that their great Starres
Thron'd and fet high; Servants who seem no lefs,
Which are to France the Spies and Speculations
Intelligent of our State. What hath bin feen,
Either in fnauffs, and packings of the Dukes,
Or the hard Rein which both of them have borne
Against the old kind King; or ſomething deeper,
Whereof (perchance) theſe are but furnifhings.
Gent. I will talk 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 fee Cordelia,
(As fear not but you ſhall) ſhew her this Ring,
And the will tell you who that fellow is
That yet you do not know. Fie on this ſtorm,
I will go feek the King.
Gent. Give me your hand,
Have you no more to ſay?
Kent. Few words, but to effect more then all yet;
That when we have found the King, in which your pain
That way, I'le this: He that firſt lights on him,
Holla the other.
Exeunt.

## Scena Secunda.

Storm fill.

Enter Lear, and Fool.

Lear. Blow winds, and crack your checks; Rage, blow
You C. taracts, and Hurricane's ſpout.
'Till you have drench'd our Steepleſes, drown the Cocks.
You Sulph'rous and thought-executing ſires,
Vaunt-curriers of Oak-cleaving Thunder-bolts,
Sindge my white head. And thou all-flaking Thunder,
Strike flat the thick Rounduity o'th'world,
Crack Nature's moulds, all germanes ſpill at once
That makes ingratefull Man.

Fool. O Nunkle, Court holy-water in a dry houſe, is
better then the Rain-water out o'door. Good Nunkle,
in, ask thy Daughter bleſſing, here's a night pities nei-
ther Wife-men, nor Fools.

Lear. Rumble thy belly full: ſpit Fire, ſpout Rain;
Nor Rain, Wind, Thunder, Fire are my Daughters,
I tax not you, you Elements with unkindneſs.
I never gave you Kingdome, call'd you Children;
You owe me no ſubſcription. Then let fall
Your horrible pleafure. Here I ſtand your Slave,
A poor, infirm, weak, and defpisd old man:
But yet I call you ſervile Minifters,
That will with two pernicious Daughters join
Your high-engender'd Battels, 'gainſt a head

So old and white as this. O, ho! 's foul.

Fool. He that has a houſe to put's head in, has a good Head-piece:
The Codpiece that will houſe, before the Head has any;
The Head, and he ſhall Lowſe: ſo Beggars marry many.
That man that makes his toe, what he his heart ſhould make,
Shall of a Corn cry woe, and turn his ſleep to wake.

For there was never yet fair woman, but ſhe made mouthes in a glaſs.

Enter Kent.

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

Kent. Who's there?

Fool. Marry here's Grace, and a Codpiece, that's a Wife-man, and a Fool.

Kent. Alas Sir, are you here? things that love night,
Love not ſuch nights as theſe: the wrathfull Skies
Gallow the very wanderers of the dark
And makes them keep their Caves: Since I was man,
Such ſheets of fire, ſuch burths of horrid thunder,
Such groans of roaring Wind, and Rain, I never
Remember to have heard. Man's Nature cannot carry
Th' affliction, nor the fear.

Lear. Let the great gods
That keep this dreadfull pudder o're our heads,
Find out their enemies now. Tremble thou Wretch,
That haſt within thee undivilged Crimes
Unwhipt of Juitce. Hide thee, thou bloody hand;
Thou Perjur'd, and thou Simular of Virtue
That art inſeptions. Caitiff, to pieces ſake
That under covert and convenient ſeeming
Has practis'd on man's life. Cloſe pent-up guilts,
Rive your concealing Contingents, and cry
Theſe dreadfull Summoners grace: I am a man,
More finn'd against, then finning.

Kent. Alack, bare-headed?
Gracious my Lord, hard by here is a Hovel,
Some friendſhip will it lend you: gainſt the tempeſt:
Reſope you there, while I to this hard houſe
(More harder then the ſtones whereof 'tis rais'd,
Which even but now, demanding after you,
Deny'd me to come in) return, and force
Their ſcanted curſeſe.

Lear. My wits begin to turn.
Come on my boy. How doſt my boy? Art cold?
I am cold my felf. Where is this ſtraw, my fellow?
The Art of our Necefliſties is ſtrange,
And can make vild things precious. Come, your hovel;
Poor Fool, and Knave, I have one part in my heart
That's forry yet for thee.

Fool. He that has and a little-tyne wit,
With height-ho, the Wind and the Rain,
Muff make content with his fortunes ſit,
Though the Rain it raineth every day.

Lear. True Boy: Come bring us to this Hovel. Exit

Fool. This is a brave night ta cool a Curuizan:
I'le ſpeak a Propheſie e're I go:
When Prieſts are more in words, then matter:
When Brewers marre their Malt with water;
When Nobles are their taylor's curtors,
No Hereticks burn'd but wenches Sutors,
When every Cafe in Law is righe:
No Squire in debt, nor no poor Knight:
When Slanders do not live in tongues;
Nor Cut-purſes come not to throngs;
When Uſurers tell their Gold i'th'field,

And

The Tragedy of Hamlet.

775

And Bauds, and Whores, do Churches build,
Then shall the Realm of Albion come to great confusion,
Then comes the time, who lives to see't,
That going shall be us'd with feet,
This prophecy *Merlin* shall make,
For I do live before his time.

Exit.

## Scena Tertia.

Enter Gloster and Edmund.

Glo. Alack, alack *Edmund*, I like not this unnatural dealing; when I defied their leave that I might pitty him, they took from me the use of nine own house, charged me on pain of perpetual displeasure, neither to speak of him, entreat for him, or any way suftain him.

Bast. Most savage and unnatural.

Glo. Go too; say you nothing. There is division between the Dukes, and a worse matter then that: I have received a Letter this night, 'tis dangerous to be spoken, I have lock'd the Letter in my Gloster; these injuries the King now bears, will be revenged home; there is part of a Power already footed, we must incline to the King, I will look him, and privily relieve him; go you and maintain talk with the Duke, that my charity be not of him perceived; if he ask for me, I am ill, and gone to bed, if I die for it, (as no leffe is threatened me) the King my old Mafter must he relieved. There is it strange things toward, *Edmund*, pray you be careful.

Exit.

Ball. This Curteie forbid thee, shall the Duke Inстанtly know, and of that Letter too; This seems a fair deferring, and must draw me That which my father loofes: no leffe then all, The younger rites, when the old doth fall.

Exit.

## Scena Quarta.

Enter Lear, Kent, and Fool.

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

Storm still.

Lear. Let me alone.

Kent. Good my Lord, enter here.

Lear. Wilt break my heart?

Kent. I had rather break mine own,

Good my Lord enter.

Lear. Thou think'st 'tis much that this contentious Invades us to the skin so: 'tis to thee, (Storm) But where the greater malady is fix'd, The leffer is (carce) felt. Thou'dst thus a Bear, But if thy flight lay toward the roaring Sea, Thou'dst meet the Bear ith' month, when the minds free The bodies delicate, the tempeft in my mind, Doth from my fences take all feeling else, Save what beats there. Filial ingratitude, Is it not as this mouth should tear his hand For lifting food to't: But I will punish home; No, I will weep no more. In such a night,

To fluch me out? Pour on, I will endure:
In such a night as this? O *Regan*, *Gonerill*,

Your old kind Father, whose frank heart gave all
O that way madneſſe lies, let me flun that:
No more of that.

Lear. Pitee go in thy self, feek thine own cafe,
This tempeſt will not give me leave to ponder
On things would hurt me more, but Ile go in,
In Boy, go first. You houſeleſſe poverty,
Nay, get thee in; I'le pray, and then I'll eep.
Poor naked wretches, where fo're you are
That bide the pelting of this pittrileſſe storm,
How shall your houſeleſſe heads, and unfed ſides,
Your lop'd, and window'd raggedneſſe defend you
From leafons ſuch as theſe? O I have tane
Too little care of this: take Phyſick, Pompe,
Expole thy ſelf to feel, what wretches feel,
That thou may't ſhake the ſuperflux to them,
And shew the heavens more juſt.

Exit.

Enter Edgar, and Fool.

Ed. Fathom and half, Fathom and half? poor Tom.

Fool. Come not in here Nuncle; here's a ſpirit; help me, help me.

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

Fool. A ſpirit, a ſpirit, he fayes his name's poor Tom.

Kent. What art thou that do'st grumble there i'th'fraw?
Come forth.

Ed. Away, the foul Fiend follows me, through the
sharp Hauθorn blow the winds. Hum, go to thy bed and
warme thee.

Lear. Didst thou give all to thy daughters? And art thou come to this?

Ed. Who gives any thing to poor Tom? Whom the foul Fiend hath led through Fire, and through Flame, through Sword, and Whirle Poole, ore Bog, and Quagmire, that hath laid Knives under his Pillow, and Halters in his Pue, fet Rats-bane by his Porredge, made him Proud of heart, to ride on a Bay trotting horfe, over four arch'd Bridges, to course his own shadow for a traitor, Bliffe thy five Wits, Tom's a cold. O do, do, do, do, do, bliffe thee from Whirle-winds, Star-blaſting, and taking, do poor Tom some charity, whom the foul fiend vexes. There could I have him now, and there, and there again, and there.

Storm still.

Lear. Has his Daughters brought him to this paffe?
Could it thou faſe nothing? Would it thou give'em all?

Fool. Nay, he refu'd a Blanket; else we had been all
tham'd,

Lear. Now all the plagues that in the pendulous aire
Hang fated o're mens faults, light on thy daughters.

Kent. He hath no Daughters, Sir.

Lear. Death traitor, nothing could have subdu'd Na-
To such a lowneſſe, but his unkind Daughters. (ture
Is it the fashion, that discarded Fathers,
Should have thus little mercy on their ſlouth:
Judicious puniſhment, 'twas this ſlouth begot
Thofe Pelican Daughters.

Ed. Pillicock fat on Pillicock hill, allow: allow, loo, loo.

Fool. This cold night will turn us all to fools, and
Madmen.

Edgar. Take heed oth'oule fiend, obey thy Pa-
rents, keep thy word, justice, fwear not, commit not,

V u u

with

776

The Tragedy of King Lear.

with mans fworn Spouse ; let on thy Sweet-heart on
proud array. Tom's a cold.

Lear. What haft thou been ?

Edg. A servingman. Proud in heart, and mind: that
curl'd my hair; wore Gloves in my cap; ferv'd the Luft
of my Miftris heart, and did the act of darkneffe with
ner. Swore as many Oaths, as I spake words, and break
them in the sweet face of heaven. One, that flept in the
contriving of Luft, and wak'd to do it. Wine lov'd I
dearly: Dice dearly; and in Woman, out-Paramour'd
the Turk. Falso of heart, light of ear, bloudy handed,
Hog in cloth, Fox in fealth, Wolf in greedineffe, Dog
in madneffe, Lion in prey. Let not the creaking of fhooes,
Nor the ruftling of Silks, betray thy poor heart to wo-
man. Keep thy foot out of brothels, thy hand out of
Plackers, thy pen from Lenders Books, and defie the
foule fiend. Still through thy Hawthorn blows the
cold wind: Sayes him, mun, nonny, Dolphin my Boy,
Boy Seffey: let him trot my.

Storm still.

Lear. Thou wert better in a Grave, then to anſwer
with thy uncover'd body, this extremity of the Skies. Is
man no more then this? Consider him well. Thou ow't
the Worme no Silk: the Beaſt, no Hide: the Sheep, no
Wool: the Cat no perfume. Ha ? Here's three on's are
ſophiſticated. Thou art the thing it ſelf, unaccom-
dated man, is no more but fuch a poor, bare, forked A-
nimal as thou art. Off, off you Lendings: Come, un-
button here.

Enter Glouceſter, with a Torch.

Fool. Prethee Nuncle be contented, 'tis a naughty
night to ſwim in. Now a little fire in a wild field, were
like an old Latchers heart, a small ſpark, all the reft
on's body, cold: Look, here comes a walking fire.

Edga. This is the foul Flibbertigibbet; he begins at
Curfew, and walks at firſt Cock: He gives the Web
And the Pin, ſquints the eye, and make the Hare-lip;
Mildews the white Wheat, and hurts the poor Creature
of the earth.

Swithold footed thrice the old,

He met the Night-Mare, and her ninefold,

Bid her a-light, and her troth-plight,

And aroynt the Witch, aroynt thee.

Kent. How fares your grace ?

Lear. What's he ?

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

Glon. What are you there ? Your Names?

Edg. Poor Tom, that eats the ſwimming Frog, the
Toad, the Tod-pool, the wall-Neut, and the water: that
in the fury of his heart, when the foul fiend rages, eats
Cow-dung for Sallets; fwallows the old Rat, and the
ditch-Dog; drinks the green Mantle of the standing Pool:
who is whopt from Tything to Tything, and flockt, pu-
niſh'd, and imprifon'd: who hath three Suits to his back,
fix ſhirts to his Body:

Horſe to ride, and weapon to wear:

But Mice, and Rats, and fuch ſmall Dear,

Have been Tom's food for ſeven long year :

Beware my follower. Peace Smulkin, peace thou fiend.

Glon. What, hath your Grace no better company ?

Edg. The Prince of Darkneſſe is a Gentleman, Modo
he's call'd, and Mahu.

Glon. Our fleſh and bloud, my Lord, is grown fo vild,
that it doth hate what it gets.

Edg. Poor Tom's a cold.

Glon. Go in with me; my duty cannot suffer

I'obey in all your daughters hard commands :

Though all their injunction be to bar my doors,
And let this tyrannous night take hold upon you,

Yet have I ventured to come to seek you out,
And bring you where both fire, and food is ready,

Lear. First let me talk with this Philosopher,

What is the caufe of Thunder ?

Kent. Good my Lord take his offer,

Go into th'houſe.

Lear. I'le take a word with this fame learned Theban:
What is your fludy?

Edg. How to prevent the fiend, and to kill Vermin.

Lear. Let us ask you one word in private.

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

Glon. Can't thou blame him ?

Storm still.

His Daughters ſeek his death: Ah, that good Kent,

He faid it would be thus: poor banifh'd man :

Thou ſayeft the King grows mad, I'le tell thee friend
I am almost mad my ſelf, I had a Son,

Now out-law'd from my bloud: he fought my life

But lately: very late: I lov'd him (friend)

No father his Son dearer: true to tell thee,

The grief hath craz'd il my wits. What a nights this?
I do beſeeth your grace.

Lear. O cry you mercy, fir :

Noble Philosopher, your company.
Edg. Tom's a cold.

Glon. In fellow there, into th' Hovel; keep thee warme

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.

Lear. Take him you on.

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

Lear. Come, good Athenian.

Glon. No words, no words, hufh.

Edg. Child Rowland to the dark Tower came,

His word was ſtill, ſie, ſoh, and ſum

I ſmell the bloud of a Brittish man.

Exeunt.

## Scena Quinta.

Enter Cornwall, and Edmund.

Corn. I will have revenge, ere I depart his houſe.

Baſſ. How my Lord, I may be confured, that Nature
thus gives way to Loyalty, ſomething fears me to think
of.

Cornw. I now perceive, it was not altogether your
Brothers evill diſpoſition made him ſeek his death: but
a provoking merit ſet a work by a reſponable badneſſe
in himſelf.

Baſſ. How malicious is my fortune, that I muſt re-
pent to be juſt ? This is the Letter which he spoke of;
which approves him an intelligent party to the advanta-
ges of France. O Heavens ! that this Treason were not;
or not I the detector.

Cornw. Go with me to the Dutchefſe.

Baſſ. If the matter of this Paper be certain, you have
mighty buſineſſe in hand.

Corn.

The Tragedy of King Lear.

778

You should not ruffle thus. What will you do
Corn. Come Sir.

What Letters had you late from France?

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

Corn. And what confederacy have you with the trai-
tors, late footed in the Kingdome?
Reg. To whose hands

You have fent the Lunatick King : speak.

Glou. I have a Letter gueffingly fet down
Which came from one that's of a newtrall heart,
And not from one oppos'd.

Corn. Cunning.

Reg. And falfe.

Cor. Where haft thou fent the King?

Glou. To Dover.

Reg. Wherefore to Dover?

Was't thou not charg'd at perill.

Corn. Wherefore to Dover ? Let him anſwer that.

Glou. I am tyed to th'Stake,

And I muſt land the Courſe.

Reg. Wherefore to Dover?

Glou. Because I would not fee thy cruell Nails

Pluck out his poor old eyes: nor thy fierce Sifter,
In his Annointed fleſſi, ſtick boarish phangs,

The Sea, with ſuch a ſtome as his bare head,
In helſl-black-night induſ'd, would have buoy'd up
And quench'd the Stelled ſires:

Yet poor old heart, he holv the heavens to rain.

If Wolves had at thy Gate howld that ſtern time,
Thou should't have ſaid, good Porter turn the Key:

All Cruels eſſe ſubſcribe : but I ſhall fee

The winged Vengeance overtake ſuch Children.

Corn. See't, that thou never. Fellows hold the Chair.
Upon these eyes of thine, I'le fet my foot.

Glou. He that will think to live, till he be old,

Give me ſome help,-----O cruell ! O gods.

Reg. One ſide will mock another : th'other too.

Corn. If you fee vengeance.

Serv. Hold your hand, my Lord?

I have ferv'd you ever ſince I was a Child :

But better ſervice have I never done you,

Then now to bid you hold.

Reg. How now, you dog?

Ser. If you did wear a beard upon your chin,

It'd shake it on this quarrel. What do you mean?

Corn. My Villain?

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

Reg. Give me thy ſword. A pezant ſtand up thus?

Kills him

Ser. Oh I am flain : my Lord, you have one eye left
To fee ſome miſchief on him. Oh.

Corn. Left it fee more, prevent it; Our vild gelly :

Where is thy luſter now?

Glou. All dark and comfortleſſe ?

Where's my Son Edmund?

Edmund, enkindle all the sparks of Nature

To quit this horrid act.

Reg. Out treacherous Villain,

Thou call'd on him, that hates thee, It was he

That made the overture of thy Treafons to us :

Who is too good to pitty thee.

Glou. O my follies ! then Edgar was abus'd.

Kind gods, forgiſe me that, and proper him.

Reg. Go thruſt him out at gates, and let him ſmell

His way to Dover. Exit with Glofter,

How is't my Lord ? How look you ?

Corn. I have receiv'd a hurt: follow me Lady:
Turn out that eyeleſſe Villain: throw this Slave
Upon the Dunghill: *Regan*, I bleed apace,
Untimely comes this hurt. Give me your armes. Exeunt.

Actus Quartus. Scena Prima.

Enter Edgar.

Edg. Yet better thus, and known to be contemn'd,
Then fill contemn'd and flatter'd, to be worſt:
The loweft, and moſt dejeſt thing of Fortune,
Stands fill in esperance, lives not in fear.

The lamentable change is from the beſt,
The worſt returns to laughter. Welcome then,
Thou unſubſtantiall aire that I embrace:
The wretch that thou haſt blown unto the worſt,
Ows nothing to thy blaſts.

Enter Gloſter led by an old man.

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

But that thy ſtrange mutations make us hate thee,
Life would not yield to age.

Oldm. O my good Lord, I have been your Tenant,
And your Fathers Tenant, theſe fourſcore years.

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

Oldm. You cannot fee your way.

Glou. I have no way, and therefore want no eyes:
I ſtumbled when I faw. Full oft 'tis ſeen,

Our means ſecure us, and our meer deſ defects

Prove our Commodities. Oh dear Son Edgar,

The food of thy abufed fathers wrath :

Might I but live to fee thee in my touch,
It'd ſay I had eyes again.

Oldm. How now, who's there?

Edg. O gods ! Who is't can fay I am at the worſt?

I am worſe then ere I was.

Oldm. 'Tis poor mad Tom.

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

Oldm. Fellow, where goeſt?

Glou. Is it a Beggar-man?

Oldm. Madman, and beggar too.

Glou. He has ſome reafon, eſſe he could not beg:
Ith'laſt nights ſtorm, I ſuch a fellow ſaw;

Which made me think a Man, a Worm. My Son

Came then into my mind, and yet my mind

Was then ſcarce Friends with him.

I have heard more ſince :

As Flies to th'wanton Boyes, are we to th'gods,
They kill us for their ſport.

Edg. How ſhould this be ?

Bad is the Trade that muſt play the fool to ſorrow,
Ang'ring it ſelf, and others. Bleſſe thee After.

Glou. Is that the naked ſellow ?

Oldm. I my Lord.

Glou. Get thee away : if for my ſake
Thou wilt o're-take us hence a mile or twain
I'fh'way toward Dover, do it for ancient love,
And bring ſome covering for this naked Soul,
Which I prentreat to lead me.

Oldm. Alack ſir, he is mad.

Glou.

The Tragedy of King Lear.

787

Glon. 'Tis the times plague,
When Madmen lead the blind:
Do as I bid thee, or rathet do thy pleasure:
Above the rest, begone.
Oldm. I'll bring him the Beft Parrell that I have
Come on't, what will,
Glon. Sirrah, naked fellow.
Edg. Poor Tom's a cold. I cannot daub it further.
Glon. Come hither fellow.
Edg. And yet I must:
Bleffle thy fweer eyes, they bleed.
Glon. Know'ft thou the way to Dover ?
Edg. Both flile, and gate, horfe-way, and foot-path:
poor Tom hath been fear'd out of his good wits. Bleffle
thee good mans fon, from the foul fiend. (plagues
Glon. Here take this purfe, thou whom the heavy's
Have humbled to all floaks: that I am wretched
Makes thee the happier: heavens deal so full :
Let the superfluous, and Luft-dicted man,
That flaves your ordinance, that will not fee
Because he do's not feel, feel your power quickly:
So diftibution should undo exceſſe,
And each man have enough. Do'ſt thou know Dover ?
Edg. I maſter.
Glon. There is a Cliffe, whose high and bending head
Looks fearfully in the confined Deep:
Bring me but to the very brim of it,
And I'le repair the miſery thou do'ſt bear
With ſomething rich about me: from that place,
I ſhall no lending need.
Edg. Give me thy arme;
Poor Tom ſhall lead thee.
Exeunt

## Scena Secunda.

Enter Gonerill, Baſtard, and Steward.
Gon. Welcome my Lord, I marvel our mild husband
Not met us on the way. Now, where's your Maſter?
Stew. Madam within, but never man ſo chang'd:
I told him of the Army that was Landed:
He ſmil'd at it. I told him you were coming,
His anſwer was, the worſe. Of Gloſters treachery,
And of the loyal ſervice of his Son
When I inform'd him, then he call'd me Sot,
And told me I had turn'd the wrong ſide out:
What moſt he ſhould diſlike, ſeems pleafant to him;
What like, offenſive.
Gon. Then ſhall you go no further.
It is the Cowſih terror of his ſpirit
That dares not undertake: he'll not feel wrongs
Which tye him to an anſwer; our wishes on the way
May prove effects. Back Edmund to my Brother,
Haſten his Muſters, and conduct his powers.
I muſt change names at home, and give the Diftaſſe
Into my Husbands hands. This truſty Servant
Shall paffe between us: ere long you are like to hear
(If you dare venture in your own behalf)
A Miftreſſes command. Wear this; ſpare ſpeech,
Decline your head. This kiffle, if it durſt ſpeak,
Would ſtretch thy Spirits up into the aire:
Conceive, and fare thee well.

Bast. Yours in the ranks of death.

Gon. My moſt dear Gloſter.

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

Stew. Madam, here comes my Lord.

Enter Albany.

Gon. I have been worth the whifſt.

Alb. Oh Gonerill,

You are not worth the duſt which the rude wind
Blows in your face.

Gon. Milk-liver'd man.
That bear'ſt a cheek for blows, a head of wrongs,
Who haſt not in thy brows an eye-difſcerning,
Thine honor, from thy suffering.

Alb. See thy ſelf devil:
Proper deformity ſeems not in the fiend
So horrid as in woman.

Gon. Oh vain fool.

Enter a Meſſenger.

Mef. Oh my good Lord, the Duke of Cornwalls dead,
Slain by his Servant, going to put out
The other eye of Gloſter.

Alba. Gloſters eyes?

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

Alba. This ſhews you are above
You Juſtices, that theſe our nether crimes
So ſpeedily can venge. But (O poor Gloſter)
Loft he his other eye?

Mef. Both, both, my Lord.
This Letter Madam, craves a ſpeedy anſwer:
'Tis from your Sifter,
Gon. One way I like this well,
But being widow, and my Gloſter with her,
May all the building in my fancy pluck
Upon my hatefull life. Another way
The News is not fo tart. I'le read, and anſwer.

Alba. Where was his Son,
When they did take his eyes?

Mef. Come with my Lady hither.

Alba. He is not here.

Mef. No my good Lord, I met him back again.

Alba. Knows he the wickedneſſe?

Mef. I my good Lord: 'twas he inform'd againſt him
And quit the houſe of purpofe, that their puniſhment
Might have the freer courſe.

Alb. Gloſter, I live.
To thank thee for the love thou ſhew'd ſt the King,
And to revenge thine eyes. Come hither friend,
Tell me what more thou know'd it.

Exeunt.

## Scena Tertia.

Enter with Drum and Colours, Cordelia, Gentlemen, and Souldiers.

Cor. Alack, 'tis he: why he was met even now
As made the vext Sea, finging aloud,
Crown'd with rank Fenitar, and farrow weeds,
With Hardocks, Hemlock, Nettles, Cuckow flowers,

V u u 3

Darnell

780

The Tragedy of King Lear.

Darnelt, and all the idle weeds that grow
In our suftaining Corn. A Century send forth;
Search every Acre in the high-grown field,
And bring him to our eye. What can man's wurdome
In the reftoring his bereaved Senfe: he that helps him,
Take all our outward worth.

Gent. There is means, Madam:
Our foster Nurfe of Nature, is repofe,
The which he lacks: that to provoke in him,
Are many Simples operative, whose power
Will cloſe the eye of Anguifh.

Cord. All bleſt Secrets,
All you unpubliſh'd Vertues of the earth
Spring with my tears; be aidant, and remediate
In the good mans defires: feek, feek for him,
Left his ungovern'd rage, diſſolve the life
That wants the means to lead it.

Enter a Meſſenger.

Mef. News Madam,
The Bittith Powers are marching hitherward.
Cord. 'Tis known before. Our preparation stands
In expectation of them. O dear father,
It is thy buſinſes that I go about: therefore great France
My mourning, and importun'd tears hath pittied:
Now blown Ambition doth our Arms incite,
But love, dear love, and our ag'd Fathers Right:
Soon may I hear, and see him.

Exeunt.

## Scena Quarta.

Enter Regan, and Steward.

Reg. But are my Brothers Powers fet forſeth ?

Stew. I Madam.

Reg. Himselſ in perſon there ?

Stew. Madam, with much adoe

Your Sifter is the better Souldier.

Reg. Lord Edmund spake not with your Lord at home;
Stew. No Madam.
Reg. What might import my Sifters Letter to him ?
Stew. I know not, Lady.
Reg. Faith he is poffed hence on ſerious matter :
It was great ignorance. Gloſters eyes being out
To let him live. Where he arrives, he moves
All hearts againſt us: Edmund, I think is gone
In pitty of his mifery, to diſpatch
His nighted life: Moreover to defcry
The ſtrength oth' Enemy.

Stew. I muſt needs after him, Madam, with my Letter.
Reg. Our troops fet forth to morrow, ſtay with us:
The wayes are dangerous.

Stew. I may not Madam:
My Lady charg'd my duty in his buſineſſe.

Reg. Why ſhould the write to Edmund?
Might not you tranſport her purpofes by word? Belike,
Some things, I know not what. I'le love thee much
Let me unſeal the Letter.

Stew. Madam, I had rather-----
Reg. I know your Lady do's not love her husband,
I am ſure of that: and at her late being here,
She gave ſtrange Iliads, and moſt ſpeaking looks
To Noble Edmund. I know you are of her boſome.

Stew. I Madam?

Reg. I ſpeak in underſtanding: Y'are: I know't,
Therefore I do advife you take this note:
My Lord is dead: Edmund, and I have talk'd,
And more convenient is he for my hand

Then for your Ladies: You may gather more:
If you do find him, pray you give him this;
And when your Miftris hears thus much from you,
I pray defire her call her wurdome to her.

So fare you well:
If you do chance to hear of that blind traitor,
Preferment falls on him, that cuts him off.

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

Reg. Fare thee well.

Exeunt.

## Scena Quinta.

Enter Glouceſter, and Edgar.

Glou. When ſhall I come to th'top of that fame hill?
Ed. You do climb up it now. Look how we labour.

Glou. Me thinks the ground is even.
Ed. Horrible ſteep.

Hark, do you hear the Sea ?

Glou. No truly.

Ed. Why then your other Senſes grow imperſt

By your eyes anguifh,

Glou. So may it be indeed.

Me thinks thy voice is alter'd, and thou speak'ſt

In better phraſe, and matter then thou did'ſt.

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

Glou. Me thinks y'are better ſpoken.

Ed. Come on fir,

Here's the place: ſtand ſtill: how ſtearfull

And dizzy 'tis, to caſt ones eyes ſo low,

The Crows and Choughs, that wing the midway aire

Shew ſcarce ſo groſſe as Beetles. Half way down

Hangs one that gathers Sampire: dreadfull trade:

Me thinks he ſeems no bigger then his head.

The ſiſhermen that walk'd upon the beach

Agpear like Mice: and yond tall Anchoring Bark,

Diminifh'd to her Cock: her Cock, a Buoy

Almoſt to ſmall for ſight. The murmering Surge,

That on th'unnumbred idle Pebble chafes

Cannot be heard ſo high. I'le look no more,

Left my brain turn, and the deficient ſight

Topple down headlong.

Glou. Set me where you ſtand.

Ed. Give me your hand:

You are now within a foot of th'extream Verge:

For all beneath the Moon would I not leap upright.

Glou. Let go my hand:

Here friends, another purſe: in it, a Jewell

Well worth a poor man's taking. Fairies, and gods

Proſper it with thee. Go thou further off,

Bid me farewell, and let me hear thee going.

Ed. Now fare ye well, good fir.

Glou. With all my heart.

Ed. Why do I trifle thus with his defpair,
'Tis done to cure it.

Glou. O you mighty gods !
This world I do renounce, and in your ſights

Shake

The Tragedy of King Lear.

781

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

To quarrell with your great oppofeleffes wills,
My snuff, and foath'd part of Nature should
Burn it selfe out. If Edgar live, O bleſſe him.
Now fellow, fare the well.

Ed. Good Sir, farewell,

And yet I know not how conceit may rob

The Treasure of life, when life it self

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

By this had thought bin paſt. Alive, or dead ?

Hoa, you fir: friend, here you fir, ſpeak:

Thus might he paffe indeed: yet he revives.

What are you fir ?

Glou. Away, and let me die.

Ed. Had it thou been ought

But Gozemore, feathers and aire,

(So many fathome down precipitating)

Thoud'ft fhiver'd like an Egge: but thou do'ſt breath:

Haſt heavy ſubſtance, bleed't not, ſpeak, art ſound.

Ten Maſts at each, make not the altitude

Which thou haſt perpendicularly fell,

Thy life's a Miracle. Speak yet again.

Glou. But have I faln, or no ?

Ed. From the dread Summet of this Chalky Bourn

Look up a height, the ſhrill-gor'd Lark ſo far

Cannot be ſeen or heard: Do but look up.

Glou. Alack, I have no eyes !

Is wretchedneſſe depriv'd that benefit

To end it ſelf by death ? 'Twas yet ſome comfort,

When miſery could beguile the tyrants rage,

And fruſtrate his proud will.

Ed. Give me your armes.

Up, fo: How is't ? Feel you your Legs? You ſtand.

Glou. Too well, too well.

Ed. This is above all ſtrangeneſſe,

Upon the Crown oth'Cliffe. What thing was that

Which parted from you ?

Glou. A poor unfortunate Beggar.

Ed. As I flood here below, me thought his eyes

Were two full Moons: he had a thouſand Nofes,

Horns walk'd, and wav'd like the enraged Sea :

It was ſome fiend: therefore thou happy father,

Think that the cleareſt gods, who make them honors

Of mens impoffibilities, have preferred thee.

Glou. I do remember now: henceforth I'le bear

Affliction, till it do cry out it ſelf

Enough, enough, and die. That thing you ſpeak of,

I took it for a man : often 'twould ſay

The fiend, the fiend, he led me to that place,

Ed. Bear free and patient thoughts.

Enter Lear.

But who comes here ?

The ſafer ſenſe will ne're accomodate

His Maſter thus,

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

Ed. O thou ſide-piercing fight !

Lear. Natures above Art, in that reſpect, There's your
Přeſſe-money. That fellow handles his Bow like a Crow-
keeper: draw me a Cloathiers yard. Look, look, a
Mouſe: peace, peace, this piece of toafteſed Cheeſe will
doo't. There's my Gauntlet, I'le prove it on a Gyant,
Bring up the brown Bills. O well, flown Bird: ith'
clout, ith'clout: Hewgh. Give the word,

Ed. Sweet Marjoran.

Lear. Paffe.

Glou. I know that voice.

Lear. Ha ! Gonerill with a white beard? They flatter'd me like a Dog, and told me I had the white hairs in my Beard, ere the black ones were there. To fay I, and no, to every thing that I faid: I, and no too, was no good Divinity. When the raign came to wet me once, and wind to make me chatter: when the Thunder would no peace at my bidding, there I found 'em, there I finelt am out. Go to, they are not men o'their words; they told me, I was every thing: 'Tis a Lie, I am not Agu-proof

Glou. The trick of that voice, I do well remember : Is't not the King ?

Lear. I, every inch a King.

When I do ſtare, ſee how the ſubjeſt quakes.

I pardon that mans life. What was thy cauſe ?

Adultery ? thou haſt not die: die for Adultery ?

No, the wren goes too't, and the ſmall guided Flie

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

For Gloſters baſtard Son was kinder to his father,

Then my Daughters got between the lawſull ſheers.

Too't Luxury, pell-mell, for I lack Souſdiers.

Behold you ſimpring Dame, whose ſace between her
Forks prefages Snow; that minces Vertue, and do's ſhake
the head to hear of pleafures name. The Fitchew, nor
the ſoyled horſe goes too't with a more riotous appe-
tite: down from the waſte they are Centaures, though
Women all above : but to the Girdle do the gods inhe-
rit, beneath is all the fiends. There's hell, there's dark-
neſſe, there is the ſulpherous pit, burning, ſcalding, ſtench,
consumpſion: Fie, ſie, ſie; pah, pah: Give me an Ounce
Of Civet; good Apothecary ſweeten my imagination :
There's money for thee.

Glou. O let me kifs that hand,

Lear. Let me wipe it first,

It smells of Mortality.

Glou. O ruin'd piece of Nature, this great world
Shall ſo wear out to naught.

Do'ſt thou know me?

Lear. I remember thine eyes well enough: do'ſt thou
Iquiny at me? No, do thy worſt blind Cupid, I'le not
love. Read thou this challenge, mark but the penning
of it.

Glou. Were all thy Letters Suns, I could not ſee one.

Ed. I would not take this from report,

It is, and my heart breaks at it.

Lear. Read.

Glou. What with the Caſe of eyes ?

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

Glou. I ſee it feelingly.

Lear. What, art mad? A man may ſee how this world
goes, with no eyes. Look with thine ears: See how
yond Juſtice rails upon yond ſimple chief. Heatk in
thine ear: Change places, and handy-dendy, which is
the Juſtice, which is the thief: Thou haſt ſeen a Far-
mers dog bark at a Beggar ?

Glou. Sir.

Lear. And the Creature run from the Cur: there thou
might'ſt behold the great image of Authority, a Dog's
obey'd in Office. Thou, Raſcal Beadle, hold thy bloudy
hand: why do'ſt thou laſh that Whore? Strip thy own
back, thou hotly luſts to uſe her in that kind, for which
thou whip'ſt her. The Uſurer hangs the Cozener. Tho-
roug

roug

The Tragedy of King Lear.

782

rough and tatter'd cloaths,great Vices do appear: Robes,
and furr'd gowns hide all. Place finns with gold, and
the ftrong Lance of justice, hurtleffe breaks: Arme it in
rags, a Pigmies ftraw doth pierce it. None does offend,
none,I fay none,I'le able 'em; take that of me my friend,
Who have the power to feal th'accufers lips. Get thee
glaffe eyes, and like a furvy Politician, seem to see the
things thou doft not. Now, now, now, now, Pull off my
Boots: harder, harder, so.

Edg. O matter, and impertinency mixt,

Reafon in Madneſſe.

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

Glou. Alack, alack the day.

Lear. When we are born, we cry that we are come
To this great ſtage of fools. This a good block:
It were a delicate ſtratagem to fhooe
A Troop of horſe with felt: I'le put't in proofe,
And when I have ſtoln upon theſe Sons in Laws:
Then kill, kill, kill, kill, kill, kill.

Enter a Gentleman.

Gent. Oh here he is: lay hand upon him, Sir.

Your moſt dear Daughter. . . . . .

Lear. No reſcue ? What, a Přifoner ? I am even

The Natural Fool of fortune. Life me well,

You ſhall have ransome. Let me have Surgeons,

I am cut to th' Brains.

Gent. You shall have any thing.

Lear. No Seconds ? All my ſelf ?

Why, this would make a man, a man of Salt;

Touſe hiscyes for Garden water-pots. I will die bravely,

Like a ſmug Bridegroom. What? I will be Jovial:

Come, come, I am a King. Mafters, know you that?

Gent. You are a Royal one, and we obey you.

Lear. Then there's life in't. Come, and you get it,

You ſhall get it by running: Sa, fa, fa, fa.

Gent. A fight moſt pittifull in the meaneſt wretch.

Paſt ſpeaking of in a King. Thou haſt a Daughter

Who redeems Nature from the general curſe

Which twain have brought her to.

Edg. Hail gentle Sir.

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

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

Gent. Moſt ſure, and vulgar :

Every one hears that, which can diſtinguſh found.

Edg. But by your favour :

How near's the other Army ?

Gent. Near, and on ſpeedy foot: the main difcry

Stands on the hourly thought.

Edg. I thank you fir, that's all.

Gent. Though that the Queen on ſpecial caufe is here,
Her Army is mov'd on. Exit.

Edg. I thank you Sir.

Glou. You ever gentle gods, take my breath from me,
Let not my worſer Spirit tempt me again

To die before you pleafe.

Edg. Well pray you father.

Glou. Now good fir, what are you?

Edg. A moſt poor man, made tame to Fortunes blows
Who, by the Art of known, and feeling forrowrs,
Am pregnant to good pitty. Give me your hand,
I'le lead you to ſome biding.

Glou. Hearty thanks :

The bounty, and the benizon of heaven
To boot, and boot.

Enter Steward.

Stew. A proclaim'd prize: moſt happy :

That eyeleſſe head of thine, was firſt fram'd ſleſh

To raife my fortunes. Thou old, unhappy traitor,

Briefly thy ſelf remember: the Sword is out

That muſt deſtroy thee.

Glou. Now let thy friendly hand

Put ſtrength enough to't.

Stew. Wherefore, bold Pezant,

Darſt thou ſupport a publifh'd Traitor? hence,

Left that th' infection of his fortune take

Like hold on thee. Let go his arm.

Edg. Chill not let go Zir,

Without further caſion.

Stew. Let go Slave, or thou dy'ſt.

Edg. Good Gentleman go your gate, and let poor
volk paffe: and'chud ha'bin zwagged out of my life,
'twould ha'bin zo long as 'tis, by a vortnight. Nay,
come not near th'old man: keep out the vor'ye, or ice
tryeth Whither your Coſtard, or my Ballow be the harder;
chill be plain with you.

Stew. Out Dunghill.

Edg. Chill pick your teeth Zir: come, no matter vor
your foyns.

Stew. Slave thou haſt ſlain me: villain, take my purſe;
If ever thou wilt thrive, bury my body,

And give the Letters which thou find'ſt about me,

To Edmund Earl of Gloßer : ſeeh him out

Upon the Englifh party. Oh untimely death, death.

Edg. I know thee well. A ſerviceable Villain,

As duteous to the vices of thy Miftris,

As badneſſe would deſire.

Glou. What, is he dead ?

Edg. Sit you down Father: reſt you.

Let's ſee theſe Pockets; the Letters that he ſpeaks of

May be my friends: he's dead; I am only forry

He had no other Deathſtman. Let us ſee :

Leave gentle wax, and manners: blame us not

To know our enemies minds, we rip their hearts,

Their Papers are more lawſul.

Reads the Letter.

L
et our reciprocall vow: be remembred. You have
many opportunities to cut him off: if your will want
not, time and place will be fruitfully offer'd. There is no-
thing done. If he return the Conqueror, then am I the Pri-
ſoner, and his bed, my Goal, from the loathed warmth
whereof, deliver me, and ſupply the place of our Labour.

Your (Wife, so I would ſay) affectio-
nate Servant. Gonerill,

Of indinguſh'd ſpace of Womans will,

A plot upon her vertuous husbands life,

And the exchange my brother : here, in the fands

Thee I'le rake up, the poſt unſanctified

Of murtherous Letchers: and in the mature time,

With this ungracious paper ſtrike the fight

Of the death-practis'd Duke: for him 'tis well,

That of thy death, and buſineſſe, I can tell,

Glou. The King is mad :

How ſtiffe is my vilde ſenſe

That I ſtand up, and have ingenious feeling

Of my huge forrowrs? Better I were diſtract,

So should my thoughts be ſever'd from my griefs,

Drum afar off.

And woes, by wrong imaginations loofe

The

The Tragedy of King Lear.

The knowledge of themselves,
Edg. Give me your hand :

Far off me thinks I hear the beaten Drum.

Come father, I'll be bellow you with a friend.

Exeunt.

## Scena Septima.

Enter Cordelia, Kent and Gentleman.

Cor. O thou good Kent,
How shall I live and work
To match thy goodneffe ?
My life will be too short,
And every measure fail me.

Kent. To be acknowledged Madam is o're-paid,
All my reports go with the modeft truth,
Nor more, nor clip's, but fo.

Cor. Be better suited,
These weeds are memories of those worfer hours:
I piethee put them off.

Kent. Pardon dear Madam,
Yet to be known shortens my made intent,
My boon I make it, that you know me not,
Till time, and I think meet.

Cor. Then be't so my good Lord:
How do's the King ?
Gent. Madam fleeps still.
Cor. O you kind gods !
Cure this great breach in his abufed Nature,
Th'untun'd and jarring ſenſes, O wind up,
Of this child-changed Father.

Gent. So pleafe your Majeſtty.
That we may wake the King, he hath flept long?

Cor. Be govern'd by your knowledge, and proceed
I' the ſway of your own will: is he array'd ?

Enter Lear in a Chair, carried by Servants.

Gent. I Madam : in the heavineſſe of sleep,
We put freeſh garments on him.

Be by, good Madam, when we do awake him,
I doubt not of his Temperance,

Cor. O my dear father, reſiauration hang
Thy medicine on my lips, and let this kiffe
Repair those violent harmes, that my two Sifters
Have in thy Reverence made.

Kent. Kind and dear Princeſſe.
Cor. Had you not bin their father, those white flakes
Did challenge pitty of them. Was this face
To be oppos'd againſt the jarring winds?
Mine Enemies dog, though he had bit me,
Should have ſlood that night againſt my fire,
And was't thou fain (poor Father)
To hovell thee with Swine and Rogues forlorn,
In ſhort, and muſt ſtraw ? Alack, alack,
'Tis wonder that my life and wits, at once
Had not concluded all. He wakes, ſpeak to him.

Gent. Madam do you, 'tis ſitteſt.

Cor. How does my Royal Lord ?

How fares your Majeſtty ?

Lear. You do me wrong to take me out oth'grave;
Thou art a foul inblifſe, but I am bound

Upon a wheel of fire, that mine own tears
Do ſcald, like molten Lead.

Cor. Sir, do you know me ?

Lear. You are a spirit I know, when did you die ?

Cor. Still, ſtill, far wide.

Gent. He's ſcarce awake,
Let him alone a while.

Lear. Where have you bin ?

Where am I ? fair day light ?

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

I will not ſwear these are my hands: let's fee,
I feel this pin prick, would I were affur'd

Of my condition,

Cor. O look upon me, fir,
And hold your hand in benediction o're me,
You muſt not kneel.

Lear. Pray do not mock me;
I am a very fooliſh fond old man,

Fourſcore and upward,

Not an hour more, nor leſſe :

And to deal plainly,

I fear I am not in my perfect mind.

Me thinks 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 have

Remembers not theſe garments: nor I know not

Where I did lodge laſt night. Do not laugh at me,
For (as I am a man) I think this Lady

To be my child Cordelia.

Cor. And fo I am: I am,

Lear. Be your tears wet ?

Yes faith : I pray weep not.

If you have poſon for me, I will drink it:

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

You have ſome cauſe, they have not,

Cor. No cauſe, no cauſe.

Lear. Am I in France ?

Kent. In your own kingdome, Sir,

Lear. Do not abuse me.

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

Cor. Wilt pleafe your highneſſe walk ?

Lear. You muſt bear with me :

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

Exeunt.

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

Baſſ. Know of the Duke if his laſt purpofe hold,
Or whether ſince he is advis'd by ought
To change the courſe, he's full of alteration,
And ſelf reſproving, bring his conſant pleafure.

Reg. Our Sifters man is certainly miſcarried.

Baſſ. 'Tis to be doubted Madam.

Reg. Now ſweet Lord,

You

The Tragedy of King Lear.

784

You know the goodneſſe I intend upon you:
Tell me but truly, but then ſpeak the truth.

Do you not love my Sifter ?

Baſſ. In honour'd Love.

Reg. But have you never found my Brothers way,
To the fore-fended place?

Baſſ. No. By mine honour, Madam.

Reg. I never ſhall endure her, dear my Lord,
Be not familiar with her.

Baſſ. Fear not, ſhe and the Duke her husband.

Enter with Drum & Colours, Albany, Goneril, Souldiers.

Alba. Our very loving 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.

Reg. Why is this reaſon'd?

Gene. Combine together 'gainſt the Enemy:
For theſe domeſtick, and particular broils,
Are not the queſtion here.

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

Reg. Sifter, you'll go with us?

Gon. No.

Reg. 'Tis moſt convenient, pray go with us.

Gon. Oh, ho; I know the Riddle, I will go.

Exeunt both the Armies.

Enter Edgar.

Edg. If ere your Grace had ſpeech with man so poor,
Hear me one word.

Alb. I'le overtake you, ſpeak.

Edg. Before you fight the Battel, ope this Letter:
If you have victory, let the Trumpet found
For him that brought it: wretch though I seem,
I can produce a Champion, that will prove
What is avouched there. If you miſcarry,
Your buſineſſe of the world hath so an end,
And machination caſes. Fortune loves you.

Alb. Stay till I have red the Letter.

Edg. I was forbid it.

When time shall serve, let but the Herald cry.

And I'le appear again.

Exit.

Alb. Why fare thee well, I will o're-look thy paper.

Enter Edmund.

Baſſ. The Enemy'es in view, draw up your powers,
Here is the guſe of their true ſtrength and forces,
By diligent discovery, but your haſt
Is now urg'd on you.

Alb. We will greet the time.

Exit.

Baſſ. To both theſe Sifters have I tworn my love:
Each jealous of the other, as the ſtung
Are of the Adder. Which of them ſhall I take?

Both ? One? Or neither ? Neither can be enjoy'd
If both remain alive: To take the Widow,
Exaſperates, makes mad her Sifter Gonerill,
And hardly ſhall I carry out my ſide,

Her husband being alive. Now then, we'll ſufe
His countenance for the Battel, which being done,
Let her who would be rid of him, devife
His speedy taking off. As for the mercy.

Which he intends to Lear, and to Cordelia,
The Battel done, and they within our power;

Shall never fee his pardon: for my ſtate,
Stands on me to defend, not to debate.

Exit.

## Scena Secunda.

Alarum within. Enter with Drum and Colours, Lear
Cordelia, and Souldiers, over the Stage, & Exeunt.

Enter Edgar, and Glouceſter.

Edg. Here Father, take the ſhadow of this tree
For your good hoaſt: pray that the right may thrive:
If ever I return to you again,
I'le bring you comfort.

Glo. Grace be with you Sir.

Exit.

Alarum and Retreat within.

Enter Edgar.

Edg. Away old man, give me thy hand, away:
King Lear hath loft, he and his Daughter tane,
Give me thy hand. Come on.

Glo. No further Sir, a man may rot even here.

Edg. What in ill thoughts again ?

Men muſt endure

Their going hence, even as their coming hither,
Ripeneſſe is all, come on.

Glo. And that's true too.

Exeunt.

## Scena Tertia.

Enter in conquſt with Drum & Colours, Edmund, Lear,
and Cordelia, as prifoners, Souldiers, C. ptain.

Baſſ. Some Officers take them away: good guard,
Untill their greater pleatures firſt be known
That are to cenſure them.

Cor. We are not the ſuſtys.

Who with beſt meaning have incurr'd the worſt:
For theſe oppreſſed King I am caſt down.

My ſelf could eſſe out-frown ſalſe fortunes ſrown.

Shall we not fee theſe Daughters, and theſe Sifters ?

Lear. No, no, no, no: come lets away to prifon:

We two alone will ſing like Birds iſt the Cage:

When thou do'ſt ask me bleſſing, I'le kneel down
And ask of thee ſorgiveſſe: So we'll live,

And pray and ſing, and tell old tales, and laugh.

At guilDED Butterflies: and hear poor Rogues

Talk of Court news, and we'll talk with them too,

Who looſes, and who wins; who's in, who's out:

And take upon's the miſtery of things,

As if we were Gods ſpies: And we'll wear out

In a wall'd prifon, packs and feets of great ones
That ebbe and flow by th'Moon.

Baſſ. Take them away.

Lear. Upon ſuch ſacrifices my Cordelia,
The gods themſelves throw incenſe,
Have I caught thee?

He that parts us, ſhall bring a Brand from heaven,
And fire us hence, like Foxes: wipe thine eye,

The good years ſhall devour them, flesh and ſell,

E're

["The Tragedy of King Lear.", "785", "Ere they shall make us weep?", "We'll fee' em starv'd fit : come.", "Baſt. Come hither Captain, hark.", "Take thou this note, go follow them to prifon,", "One step I have advanc'd thee, if thou doft", "As this inſtructs thee, thou doſt make thy way", "To Noble Fortunes : know thou this, that men", "Are as the time is : to be tender minded", "Do's not become a Sword, thy great employment", "Will not bear queſtion : either ſay thou'lt do't,", "Or thrive by other means,", "Capt. I'le do't my Lord.", "Baſt. About it, and write happy, when th'ast done,", "Mark I ſay inſtantly, and carry it ſo", "As I have fet it down.", "Exit Captain.", "Enter Albany, Gonerill, Regan, Souldiers.", "Alba. Sir, you have ſhew'd to day your valiant ſtrain\nAnd fortune led you well : you have the Captives", "Who were the oppoſites of this dayes ſtrife :", "I do require them of you ſo to uſe them,", "As we ſhall find their merits, and our ſafety", "May equally determine.", "Baſt. Sir, I thought it fit,", "To ſend the old and miferable King to ſome retention,", "Whofe age had Charmes in it, whose Title more,", "To pluck the common boſome on this ſide,", "And turn our impreſt Launceſ in our eyes", "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'appear", "Where you ſhall hold your ſeſſion.", "Alb. Sir, by your patience,", "I hold you but a ſubject of this War,", "Not as a brother.", "Reg. That's as we lift to grace him.", "Me thinks our pleasure might have bin demanded", "Ere you had ſpoke ſo far. He led our Powers,", "Bore the Commiſſion of my place and perſon,", "The which immediacy may well ſtand up,", "And call it ſelf your Brother:", "Gon. Not ſo hot :", "In his own grace he doth exalt himself,", "More then in your addition.", "Reg. In my rights,", "By me inſevited, he compeers the beſt.", "Alb. That were the moſt, if he ſhould husband you.", "Reg. Jeſters do oft prove Prophets.", "Gon. Holla, Holla,", "That eye that told you ſo, look'd but a ſquint.", "Reg. Lady I am not well, eſſe I ſhould anſwer", "From a full flowing ſtomack. Generall,", "Take thou my ſouldiers, prifoners, patrimony,", "Diſpoſe of them, of me, the walls are thine :", "Witneſſe the world, that I create thee here", "My Lord, and Maſter.", "Gon. Mean you to enjoy him ?", "Alb. The let alone lies not in your good will.", "Baſt. Nor in thine, Lord.", "Alb. Half-blouded fellow, yes.", "Reg. Let the Drum ſtrike, and prove my title thine.", "Alb. Stay yet, hear reaſon : Edmund, I arreſt thee", "On capitall Treaſon ; and in thy arreſt,", "This gilded Serpent: for your claim fair Sifters,", "I bare it in the intereſt of my wife,", "'Tis ſhe is ſub-contraſted to this Lord,", "And I her husband contradict your Banes.", "If you will marry, make your loves to me,", "My Lady is beſpoke.", "Gon. An enterlude.", "Alb. Thou art armed, Gloſter,", "Let the Trumpet found :", "If none appear to prove upon thy perſon,", "Thy heynous, maniſeſt, and many Treaſons;", "There is my pledge: I'le make it on thy heart", "Ere I tatte bread, thou art in nothing leſſe", "Then I have here proclaim'd thee.", "Reg. Sick, O ſick,", "Gon. If not, I'le ne're truſt medicine.", "Baſt. There's my exchang, what in the world he is\nThat names me Traitor, villain-like he lies,", "Call by the Trumpet: he that dares approach ;", "On him, on you, who not, I will maintain", "My truth and honor firmly.", "Enter a Herald.", "Alb. A Herald, ho.", "Trauſt to thy ſingle vertues, for thy ſouldiers", "All levied in my name, have in my name", "Took their diſcharge.", "Reg. My ſickneſſe grows upon me.", "Alb. She is not well, convey her to my Tent,", "Come hither Herald, let the Trumpet found,", "And read out this.", "Herald reads.", "A Trumpet ſounds.", "IF any man of quality or degree within the lifts of the\nArmy, will maintain upon Edmund ſuppoſed Earl of\nGloſter, that he is a maniſold Traitor, let him appear by\nthe third ſound of the Trumpet : he is bold in his de-\nfence.", "Her. Again.", "1 Trumpet.", "Her. Again.", "2 Trumpet.", "3 Trumpet.", "Trumpet anſwers him within.", "Enter Edgar armed.", "Alb. Ask him his purpofes, why he appears", "Upon this Callo'ch'Trumpet,", "Her. What are you ?", "Your name, your quality, and why you anſwer", "This preſent Summons ?", "Edg. Know my name is loſt.", "By treaſons tooth: bare-gnawn, and Canker-bit,", "Yet am I Noble as the Adverfary", "I come to cope.", "Alb. Which is that Adverfary ?", "Edg. What's he that ſpeaks for Edmund Earl of Glo-", "Baſt. Himſelf, what ſaſt thou to him ?", "(ſter ?", "Edg. Draw thy Sword.", "That if my ſpeech offend a Noble heart,", "Thy arme may do thee Jوſtice, here is mine:", "Behold it is my privilege,", "The privilege of mine honours,", "My oath, and my proſeſſion, I proteſſ,", "Maugre thy ſtrength, place, youth, and eminence,", "Delpife thy viſtor-Sword, and fire new fortunes,", "Thy valour, and thy heart, thou art a traitor :", "Falle to thy gods, thy brother, and thy father,", {"bbox": [467, 1

The Tragedy of King Lear.

If that her breath will mift or itain the ſtone,
Why then the lives.

Kent. Is this the promis'd end ?

Edge. Or image of that horror.

Alb. Fall and ceafe.

Lear. This feather flirs, the lives : if it be so,
It is a chance which do's redeem all sorrows
That ever I have feit.

Kent. Oh my good Maſter.

Lear. Prethee away.

Edg. 'Tis noble Kent your friend.

Lear. A plague upon you murtherers, Traitors all,
I might have fav'd her, now the's gone for ever :
Cordelia, Cordelia, itay a little. Ha.

What is't thou faift ? her voyce was ever soft,
Gentle, and low, an excellent thing in woman.
I kill'd the slave that was a hanging theſe.

Gent. 'Tis true (my Lords) he did.

Lear. Did I not, fellow ?

I have seen the day, with my good biting Faulchion
I would have made him skip : I am old now,
And theſe fame croſſes ſpoyle me. Who are you ?

Mine eyes are o'th' beſt, I'll tell you ſtraight.

Kent. If Fortune brag of two, the lov'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 Cains ?

Lear. He's a good fellow, I can tell you that,

He'll ſtrike, and quickly too, he's dead and rotten.
Kent. No, my good Lord, I am the very man.

Lear. I'll see that ſtraight.

Kent. That from your firſt of difference and decay,
Have follow'd your ſad ſteps.

Lear. You are welcome hither.

Kent. Nor no man else :

All's cheerleſſe, dark, and deadly :

Your eldeſt Daughters have fore-done themſelves,
And desperately are dead.

Lear. I, so I think.

Alb. He knowes not what he ſayes, and vain is it

That we prefent us to him.

Enter a Meſſenger.

Edg. Very bootleſſe.

Mef. 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 us we will reſign,
During the life of this old Majeſtyle,

To him our abſolute power, you to your rights,
With boot, and ſuch addition as your Honours
Have more then merited. All Friends shall
Tafe the wages of their virtue, and all Foes
The Cup of their defervings : O ſee, ſee.

Lear. And my poor Fool is hang'd : No, no, no life ?
Why ſhould a Dog, a Horſe, a Rat have life,
And thou no breath at all ? Thou'lt come no more.

Never, never, never, never, never.

Pray you undoe this Button. Thank you, Sir,
Do you fee this ? look on her, look on her lips,

Look there, look there.

He Dies.

Edg. He faints, my Lord, my Lord.

Kent. Break heart, I prethee break.

Edg. Look to my Lord.

Kent. Vex not his Ghoſt, O let him paffe, he hates him,
That would upon the wrack of this tough world
Stretch him out longer.

Edg. He is gone indeed.

Kent. The wonder is, he hath endur'd ſo long.

He but ſuſurpt his life.

Alb. Bear them from hence, our prefent buſineſſe
Is general woe: Friends of my Soule, you 'twain,
Rule in this Realm, and the gor'd ſtate ſuſtain.

Kent. I have a Journey, Sir, ſhortly to go,
My Maſter calls me, I muſt not ſay no.

Dies.

Edg. The weight of this ſad time we muſt obey,
Speak what we feel, not what we ought to ſay :
The oldeſt hath born moſt, we that are young,
Shall never ſee ſo much, nor live ſo long.

Exeunt with a dead march.

FINIS.

Xxx

THE

The *Moore of Venice*.

789

Your heart is burft, you have left half your foule
Even now, very now, an old black Ramme
Is Tapping your white Ewe. Arife, aife,
Awake the forting Citizens with the Bell,
Or else the Devil will make a Grand-fire of you.
Arife I fay.

Bra. What, have you loft your wits ?

Rod. Moſt Reverend Signior, do you know my voyce?
Bra. Not I: what are you ?

Rod. My name is Rodorigo.

Bra. The worſer welcome :

I have charg'd thee not to haunt about my doors :

In honest plainneſſe thou haſt heard me ſay,

My Daughter is not for thee. And now in madneſſe
(Being full of fupper, and diſtempering draughts)

Upon malicious knavery, doſt thou come

To ſtart my quiet.

Rod. Sir, Sir, Sir.

Bra. But thou muſt needs be ſure,

My Spirits and my place have in their power

To make this bitter to thee.

Rod. Patience, good Sir.

Bra. What tell ſt thou me of Robbing ?

This is Venice: my houſe is not a Grange.

Rod. Moſt grave Brabantio,

In finple and pure foule, I come to you.

Iago. Sir, you are one of those that will not ſerve God, if the Devil bid you. Because we come to do you ſervice, and you think we are Ruffians, you'll have your Daugh-
ter cover'd with a Barbary Horſe, you'll have your Ne-
phews neigh to you, you'll have Courſers for Couſins,
and Gennets for Germans.

Bra. What profane wretch art thou ?

Iago. I am one, Sir, that comes to tell you, your Daugh-
ter and the Moore, are making the Beaſt with two backs.

Bra. Thou art a Villain.

Iago. You are a Senator.

Bra. This thou ſhalt anſwer. I know thee, Rodorigo.

Rod. Sir, I will anſwer any thing. But I beſeech you,
If't be your pleasure, and moſt wife conſent,
(As partly I find it is) that your fair Daughter,
At this odde Even and dull Watch oth' night
Transpor ted with no worſe or better guard,
But with a Knave of common hire, a Gundelier,
To the groſſe clafpes of a Laſcivious Moore :
If this be known to you, and your Allowance,
We then have done you bold and fawcy wrongs.
But if you know not this, my manners tell me,
We have your wrong rebuke. Doe not believe
That from the ſenſe of all Civility,

I thus would play and trifle with your Reverence.
Your Daughter (if you have not given her leaye)
I ſay again, hath made a groſſe revolt,
Tying her Duty, Beauty, Wit, and Fortunes
In an extravagant, and wheeling Stranger,
Of here, and every where: ſtraight ſatisfie your ſelf.
If ſhe be in your Chamber, or your houſe,
Let loofe on me the Juitice of the ſtate
For thus deluding you.

Bra. Strike on the Tender, hoa :
Give me a Taper : call up all my people,
This Accident is not unlike my dreame,
Belief of it oppreſſes me already.
Light, I ſay, light.

Iago. Farewell: for I muſt leave you.
It ſeems not meet, nor wholſome to my place

To be produc'd, as if I ſtay, I ſhall,
Againſt the Moore. For I doe know the ſtate,
(However this may gall him with ſome check)
Cannot with ſafetät caſt him. For he's embark'd
With ſuch loud reaſon to the Cyprus warres,
(Which even now ſtands in Act) that for their foules
Another of his ſadome, they have none,
To lead their buſineſſe. In which regard,
Though I doe hate him as I doe hell,
Yet, for neceſſity of preſent life,
I muſt thenew a Flag, and ſign of Love,
(Which is indeed but ſign) that you ſhall ſurely find him
Lead to the Sagitary the raſed Search :
And there will I be with him. So farewell.
Exit.

Enter Brabantio, with Servants and Torches.

Bra. It is too true an evil. Gone ſhe is,
And what's to come of my deſpifed time,
Is naught but bitterneſſe. Now, Rodorigo,
Where didſt thou fee her ? (Oh unhappy Girl)
With the Moore ſaſt thou ? (Who would be a Father ?)
How didſt thou know 'twas ſhe ? (Oh ſhe deceives me
Paſt thought :) what ſaid ſhe to you ? Get moe Tapeſ :
Raife all my Kinred. Are they married think you ?

Rod. Truly I think they are.

Bra. Oh heaven : how got ſhe out ?
Oh treaſon of my blood.

Fathers, from hence truſt not your Daughters minds
By what you fee them Act. Are there not charmes,
By which the property of Youth and Maiſhood
May be abus'd ? Have you not read, Rodorigo,
Of ſome ſuch thing ?

Rod. Yes, ſir : I have indeed.

Bra. Call up my brothers: oh would you had had her.
Some one way, ſome another. Doe you know

Where we may apprehend her, and the Moore ?

Rod. I think I can discover him, if you pleafe
To get good Guard, and go along with me.

Bra. Pray you lead on. At every Houſe I'll call,
(I may command at moſt) get Weapons (hoa)

And raſe ſonc e ſp ecia l l Officers of might :

On good Rodorigo, I will deferve your pains.
Exeunt.

## Scena Secunda.

Enter Othello, Iago, Attendants, with Torches.

Iago. Though in the trade of warre I have ſlain men,
Yet doe I hold it very ſtuffe oth' Conſcience
To do no contriv'd murder : I lake iniquity
Sometime to doe me ſervice. Nine or ten times
I had thought to have yeuk'd him here under the Ribbes.

Othel. 'Tis better as it is.

Iago. Nay, but he prated,
And iſpoke ſuch ſcurvy, and provoking terms
Againſt your Honour, that with the little godlineſ I have,
I did full hard forbear him. But I pray you, ſir,
Are you ſaſt married ? Be affur'd of this,

That the Magnifico is much beſlov'd,
And hath in his effect a voyce potentiall

As double as the Dukes: He will divorce you,
Or putupon you, what reſtraint or grievance,

Thou art a knave.

Xxx2

The Tragedy of Othello

790

The Law (with all his might, to enforce it on)
Will give him Cable.

*Othel*. Let him do his spight ;
My fervices, which I have done the Signory
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 Siege. And my demerits
May speak (unbonnetted) to as a proud a Fortune
As this that I have reach'd. For know, *Iago*,
But that I love the gentle *Desdemona*,
I would not my unhoufed free condition
Put into Circumſcription, and Confine,
For the Seas worth. But look, what Lights come yond ?

### Enter Caffio with Torches.

*Iago*. Thoſe are the raifed Father, and his friends :
You were beſt go in.

*Othel*. Not I : I muſt be found.
My parts, my title, and my perſect foule
Shall manifeſt me rightly. Is it they ?

*Iago*. By *Janus*, I think no.

*Othel*. The ſervants of the Dukes ?

And my Lieutenant ?

The goodneſſe of the night upon you (friends)

What is the News ?

*Caffio*. The Duke does greet you (Generall)
And he requires your haſte, Poſt-haſte appearance,
Even on the inſant.

*Othel*. What is the matter think you ?

*Caffio*. Something from *Cyprus*, as I may divine:
It is a buſineſſe of ſome heat. The Gallies
Have ſent a dozen ſevent ſeſſengers
This very night, at one anothers heeles :
And many of the Conſuls (rais'd and met),
Are at the Dukes already. You have been hotly call'd for,
When being not at your lodging to be found,
The Senate hath ſent about three ſeverall Queſts,
To ſearch you out.

*Othel*. 'Tis well I am found by you :
I will ſpend but a word here in the house,
And go with you,

*Caffio*. Ancient, what makes he here ?

*Iago*. Faith, he to night hath boorded a Land Carrac,
If it prove lawfull prize, he's made for ever.

*Caffio*. I doe not underſand.

*Iago*. He's married.

*Caffio*. To whom ?

*Iago*. Marry to---- Come Captain, will you go ?

*Othel*. Have with you.

*Caffio*. Here comes another Troop to ſeek for you :

### Enter Brabantio, Rodorigo, with Officers and Torches.

*Iago*. It is *Brabantio*: Generall be advis'd,
He comes to bad intent.

*Othel*. Holla, ſtand there.

*Rod*. Signior, it is the Moore.

*Bra*. Down with him, Thief.

*Iago*. You *Rodorigo* ? Come, fir, I am for you.

*Othel*. Keep up your bright Swords, for the dew will ruſt them. Good Signior, you shall more command with yeares, than with your Weapons.

*Bra*. Oh thou foule Thief,
Where haſt thou flow'd my Daughter ?

Dann'd as thou art, thou haſt enchanted hec

For I'le referre me to all things of ſenſe,
(If ſhe in chaines of Magick were not bound)
Whether a Maid, ſo tender, fair, and happy,
So oppoſite to Marriage, that ſhe ſhunn'd
The wealthy curled Dearling of our Nation,
Would ever have (t'encurre a generall mock)
Run from her Guardage to the footy boſome,
Of ſuch a thing as thou: to fear, not to delight ?
Judge me the world, if 'tis not groſſe in ſenſe,
That thou haſt prætiſ'd on her with ſoule Charmes,
Abus'd her delicate youth, with Drugs or Minerals,
That weakens motion. I'le have't dispuſed on,
'Tis probable, and palpable to thinking ;
I therefore apprehend and doe attach thee,
For an abuſer of the world, a præſiter
Of Arts inhibited, and out of warrant ;
Lay hold upon him, if he doe refiſt
Subdue him at his peril.

*Othel*. Hold your hands,
Both you of my inclining, and the reſt.
Were it my Cue to fight, I should have known it
Without a Prompter. Whither will you that I go
To anſwer this your charge?

*Bra*. To prifon, till fit time
Of Law, and courſe of direct ſeffron
Call thee to anſwer,

*Othel*. What if I doe obey ?
How may the Duke be thereſtwith ſatiſhed,
Whofe Meſſengers are here about my ſide,
Upon ſome preſent buſineſſe of the State,
To bring me to him.

*Officer*. 'Tis true, moſt worthy Signior,
The Duke's in Council, and your Noble ſelf,
I am ſure I am ſent for.

*Bra*. How? The Duke in Council ?
In this time of the night ? bring him away :
Mine's not an idle cauſe. The Duke himself,
Or any of my Brothers of the State,
Cannot but feel this wrong, as 'twere their own :
For if ſuch Actions may have paſſage free,
Bondſlaves and Pagans shall our Statesmen be. Exeunt.

### Scena Tertia.

### Enter Duke, Senators, and Officers.

*Duke*. There is no compoſition in this newes,
That gives them credit.

1. Sen. Indeed, they are diſproportioned;
My Letters ſay, a hundred and ſeven Gallies.

*Duke*. And mine a hundred forty.

2. Sen. And mine two hundred :
But though they jump not on a juſt account,
(As in theſe Cafes where the ayme reports,
'Tis oft with difference) yet doe they all confirm
A *Turkish* Fleet, and bearing up to *Cyprus*.

*Duke*. Nay, it is poffible enough to judgement:
I do not ſo ſecure me in the error,
But the main Article I doe approve.
In fearfull ſenſe

*Saylor within.* What hoa, what hoa, what hoa.

*Enter Saylor.*

*Officer.*

The Moore of Venice.

791

**Officer.** A Meffenger from the Gallies.
**Duke.** Now? What's the butineffe ?
**Saylor.** 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 ?
**I. Sen.** This cannot be
By no affay of Reafon. 'Tis a Pageant
To keep us in falfe gaze, when we confider
Th'importance of *Cyprus* to the *Turk* :
And let our felves again but underftand,
That as it more concerns the *Turk* then *Rhodes*,
So may he with more facile queftion bear it,
For that it stands not in ſuch warlike brace,
But altogether lacks th'abilities.
That *Rhodes* is dres'd in. If we make thought of this,
We muſt not think the *Turk* is ſo unſkilfull,
To leave that lateſt, which concerns him firſt,
Neglecting an attempt of eafe and gain,
To wake and wage a danger profitſeſſe.
**Duke.** Nay, in all confidence he's not for *Rhodes*.
**Officer.** Here is more Newes.

*Enter a Meſſenger.*

*Meffen. The Ottamittes, Reverend, and Gracious,*
*Steering with due courſe toward the Ille of Rhodes,*
*Have there injoynted them with an after Fleet.*

**I. Sen.** I, to I thought: how many, as you gueſ ?
**Mef.** Of thirty Sail: and now they do re-ſtem
Their backward courſe, bearing with frank appearance
Their purpoſes toward *Cyprus*. Signior *Montano*,
Your tuiſty and moſt valiant Servitour,
With his free duty, recommends you thus,
And prays you to believe him.

**Duke.** 'Tis certain then for *Cyprus*:
*Marcus Luccios*, is he not in Town ?
**I. Sen.** He's now in *Florence*.
**Duke.** Write from us,
To him, Poſt, Poſt-haſſe, disſpatch.
**I. Sen.** Here comes *Brabantio*, and the Moore.

*Enter Brabantio, Othello, Caffio, Iago, Rodorigo, and Officers.*

**Duke.** Valiant *Othello*, we muſt ſtraight employ you,
Against the generall, Enemy *Ottoman*.
I did not fee you: welcome, gentle Signior,
We lackt your Counſell, and your help to night.
**Bra.** So did I yours: Good your Grace pardon me.
Neither my place, for ought I heard of buſineſs
Hath rais'd me from my Bed; nor doth the generall care
Take hold on me. For my particular grief
Is of ſo flood-gate, and o're-bearing Nature,
That it ingluts, and ſwallows other forrows,
And it is fill it ſelf.
**Duke.** Why ? what's the matter ?
**Bra.** My Daughter: oh my Daughter !
**Sen.** Dead.
**Bra.** I, to me.
She is abus'd, to ſoln from me, and corrupted
By ſpells and Medicines, bought of Mountebanks;
For Nature ſo prepoſterouſly to erre,
(Being not deficient, blind, or lame of ſenſe.)
Sans witch-craft could not.
**Duke.** Who e're he be, that in this ſoule proceeding
Hath thus beguil'd your Daughter of her ſelf,

And you of her ; the bloody Book of Law,
You ſhall your ſelf read in the bitter Letter,
After your own ſenſe : yea, though our proper ſon
Stood in your Action.
**Bra.** Humbly I thank your Grace,
Here is the man ; this Moore, whom now it ſeems
Your ſpeciall Mandate, for the State Aſſaires,
Hath hither brought,
**All.** We are very ſorry for't.
**Duke.** What in your own part can you ſay to this ?
**Bra.** Nothing, but this is ſo.
**Orhe.** Moſt Potent, Grave, and Reverend Signiors,
My very Noble, and approv'd good Maſters ;
That I have tane away this old mans Daughter,
It is moſt true : true I have married her ;
The very head, and front of my offending,
Hath this extent ; no more. Rude am I in my ſpeech,
And little bleſs'd with the ſoft phraſe of Peace;
For ſince theſe Armes of mine had ſeven yeares pith,
Till now, ſome nine Moons waſted, they have us'd
Their deareſt action, in the tented field :
And little of this great world can I ſpeak,
More then pertains to Feats of Broyls, and Battel,
And therefore little ſhall I grace my cauſe,
In ſpeaking for my ſelf. Yet, (by your gracious patience)
I will a round un-varnifh'd tale deliver,
Of my whole courſe of Love.
What Drugs ? what Charmes ?
What Conjuration? & what mighty Magick,
(For ſuch proceeding I am charg'd withall)
I won his Daughter with.

**Bra.** A Maiden, never bold :
Of ſpirit ſo ſtill and quiet, that her Motion
Bluſh'd at her ſelf, and ſhe in ſpight of Nature,
Of Yeares, of Countrie, Credit, every thing,
To fall in Love with what ſhe fear'd to look on ;
It is a judgement maim'd, and moſt imperfect.
That will confefſe Perfection ſo could erre
Againſt all rules of Nature, and muſt be driven
To find out præſtifes of cunning hell
Why this (hould be. I therefore vouch again,
That with ſome mixtures powerfull o're the blood,
Or with ſome Dram (conjur'd to this effect)
He wrought upon her.
**Duke.** To vouch this, is no proof,
Without more wider, and more over-Teſt
Then theſe thin habits, and poor likelihoods
Of modern ſeeming, do preferre againſt him.
**Sen.** But *Othello*, ſpeak,
Did you, by indirect, and ſeforced courſes
Subdue, and poſſon this young Maids AFFECTIONS ?
Or came it by requeſt, and ſuch fair queſtion,
As ſoule to ſoule affordeth ?
**Othel.** I doe beſeech you,
Send for the Lady to the Sagittary,
And let her ſpeak of me before her Father ;
If you doe find me ſoule in her report,
The truſt, the office, I doe hold of you,
Not only take away, but let your ſentence
Even fall upon my life.
**Duke.** Fetch *Deſdemona* hither.
**Othello.** Ancient, conduct them :
You beſt know the place.
And till ſhe come, as truly as to heaven,
I doe confefſe the vices of my blood,
So juſtly to your Grave eares, I'le preſent

Xxx 3

How

The Tragedy of Ottello

How I did thrive in this fair Ladies Love,
And the in mine,

Duke. Say it Othello.

Otho. Her Father lov'd me, oft invited me :
Still quætion'd me the story of my life,
From year to year: the Battells, Sieges, Fortune,
That I have paft.

I ran it through, even from my Boyish dayes,
To th' very moment that he bad me tell it.

Wherein I spoke of moft diftastrous chances :

Of moving Accidents by Flood, and Field,

Of hair-breadth fcapeſt iſh' imminent deadly breach ;

Of being taken by the infolent foe,

And fold to flavery. Of my redemption thence,

And portance in my Travellers hiftory.

Wherein of Antars vaſt, and Defarts wilde, (ven,
Rough Quarries, Rocks, & Hills, whoſe heads touch hea-
It was my hint to ſpeak. Such was my Proceſſe,

And of the Canibals that each other eate,

The Anthropophagi, and men whoſe heads

Grew beneath their Shoulders. These things to hear,

Would Defdemona ſeriously incline:

But fill the houſe affaires would draw her hence:

Which ever as ſhe could with haſte dispatch,

She'll come again, and with a greedy eare

Devoure up my diſcourſe. Which I obſerving,

Took once a piant houre, and found good meanes

To draw from her a prayer of earneſt heart,

That I would all my Pilgrimage dilate,

Whereof by parcels he had ſomething heard,

But not diſtinctively: I did conſent,

And often did beguile her of her teares,

When I did ſpeak of ſome diſtreſſefull ſtroke

That my youth ſuffer'd: My ſtory being done,

She gave me for my pains a world of kifſes :

She ſwere in faith 'twas ſtrange, 'twas paffing ſtrange.

'Twas pittifull: 'twas wondrous pittifull.

She wiſh'd ſhe had not heard it, yet ſhe wiſh'd

That heaven had made her ſuch a man. She thank'd me,

And bad me if I had a friend that lov'd her,

I should but teach him how to tell my ſtory,

And that would wooe her. Upon this hint I ſpake,

She lov'd me for the dangers I have paſt,

And I lov'd her, that ſhe did pitty them.

This onely is the witch-craft I have us'd.

Here comes the Lady, let her witneſſe it.

Enter Defdemona, Iago, Attendants.

Duke. I think this tale would win my Daughter too;
Good Brabantio take up this mangled matter at the beſt:
Men doe their broken Weapons rather uſe,
Then their bare hands.

Bra. I pray you hear her ſpeak :

If ſhe confefſe that ſhe was half the wooers,

Deſtruction on my head, if my bad blaſne

Light on the man. Come hither gentle Miftris,

Doe you perceive in all this Noble company,

Where moſt you owe obedience ?

Def. My Noble Father.

I doe perceive here a divided duty,

To you I am bound for life, and education :

My life and education both doe learn me,

How to reſpect you. You are the Lord of duty,

My hitherto your Daughter. But here's my husband ;

And so much duty, as my Mother ſhew'd

To you, preferring you before her Father :
So much I challenge, that I may proſeſſe
Due to the Moore, my Lord.

Bra. God be with you: I have done.

Please it your Grace, on to the State affaires ;

I had rather to adopt a child than get it.

Come hither, Moore,

I here doe give thee that with all my heart,

Which but thou haſt already, with all my heart

I would keep from thee. For your ſake (Jewell)

I am glad at foule, I have no other child ;

For thy eſcape would teach me tyranny

To hang clogs on them. I have done, my Lord.

Duke. Let me ſpeak like your ſelf:

And lay a Sentence,

Which like a grife, or ſtep may help theſe Lovers,

When remedies are paſt, the grieſs are ended.

By feeing worth, which late on hopes depended.

To moun a miſchief that is paſt and gone,

Is the next way to draw new miſchief on.

What cannot be preferv'd when Fortune takes :

Patience, her Injury a mockery makes.

The robb'd that ſmiles, ſteales ſomething from the Thief,

He robs himſelf, that ſpends a bootleſſe grief.

Bra. So let the Turk of Cyprus us beguine,

We loſe 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 heares both the ſentence, and the ſorrow,

That to pay grief, moſt of poor patience borrow.

Theſe ſentences, to Sugar, or to Gall,

Being ſtrong on both ſides, are Equivocall.

But words are words : I never yet did hear,

That the bruiz'd heart was pierced through the eare.

humbly beſeeth you to proceed to th' Affairs of State.

Duke. The Turk with a moſt mighty preparation
makes for Cyprus: Othello, the Fortitude of the place is
beſt known to you. And though we have there a Subſi-
tute of moſt allowed ſufficiency ; yet opinion, a more
Soveraign Miftris of Eſfects, throws a more ſafe voyce
on you: you muſt therefore be content to ſlubber the groſs
of your new Fortunes, with this more stubborn, and boy-
ferous expedition.

Othe. The Tyrant Cuffome, moſt Grave Senators,

Hath made the flinty and Steel Coach of War

My thrice-driven bed of Down. I doe agnize

A naturall and prompt Alacrity,

I find in hardneſſe : and do undertake

This preſent War againſt the Ottomites.

Moſt humbly therefore bending to your State,

I crave fit diſposition for my Wifé,

Due reverence of Place, and Exhibition,

Vith such accommodation and beſort

As levels with her breeding.

Duke. VVhy, at her Fathers,

Bra. I will not have it ſo.

Othe. Nor I.

Def. Nor would I there reſide,

To put my Father in impatient thoughts

By being in his Eye. Moſt gracious Duke,

To my unfolding, lend your ſopernicious ear,

And let me find a Character in your voyce

T'affiſt my ſimplenefs.

Duke. VVhat would you, Defdemona?

Def. That I love the Moore, to live with him,

My down-right violence, and ſtorm of Fortunes,

May

The Moore of Venice.

793

May trumpet to the world. My heart's subdu'd
Even to the very quality of my Lord ;

I saw *Othello's* village in his minde,

And to his honours and his valiant parts,
Did I my foule and fortunes confeereate.

So that (dear Lords) if I be left behind

A Moth of Peace, and he go to the War,
The Rites for why I love him, are bereft me :

And I a heavy interim shall support

By his dear abfence. Let me go with him.

*Otho.* Let her have your voyce.

Vouch with me heaven, I therefore beg it not

To pleafe the Pate of my Appetite :

Nor to comply with heat the young effects

In my defunct, and proper ſatisfaction.

But to be free, and bounteous to her mind :

And heaven defend your good foules, that you think
I will your ſerious and great buſineſſe ſcant

When ſhe is with me. No when light wing'd Toyes

Of feather'd Cupid, ſele with wanton dulneſſe

My ſpeculative, and offic'd Inſtrument :

That my Diſports corrupt, and taint my buſineſſe :

Let Houſewives make a Skillet of my Helme,

And all indigne, and bafe adverſities,

Make head againſt my Estimation.

*Duke.* Be it as you ſhall privately determine,

Either for her ſlay, or going : th' Affairs cries haſte :

And ſpeed muſt anſwer it.

*Sen.* You muſt away to night.

*Otho.* With all my heart.

*Duke.* At nine th' morning here we'll meet again,
*Othello*, leave some Officer behind

And he ſhall our Comſeffion bring to you :

And ſuch things ſelfe of quality and reſpect

As doth import to you.

*Otho.* So pleafe your Grace, my Ancient,

A man he is of honesty and truſt :

To his conveyance I aſſign my wife.

With what ſelfe needfull, your good Grace ſhall think
To be ſent after me.

*Duke.* Let it be ſo :

Good night to every one. And Noble Signior,

If Virtue no delighted beauty lack,

Your Son-in-Law is farre more fair than black.

*Sen.* Adieu, brave Moore, uſe *Defdemona* well,

*Bra.* Look to her (Moore) if thou haſt eyes to ſee :

She has deceiv'd her Father, and may thee.

Exit.

*Otho.* My life upon her faith. Honſt *Iago*,

My *Defdemona* muſt I leave to thee :

I prethee let thy wife attend on her,

And bring them after in their beſt advantage.

Come *Defdemona*, I have but an houre

Of Love, of worldly matter, and direction

To ſpeak with thee. We muſt obey the time.

Exit.

*Rod.* *Iago.*

*Iago.* What ſaſt thou, noble heart ?

*Rod.* What will I do, think it thou ?

*Iago.* Why go to bed and ſlep.

*Rod.* I will incontinently drowne my ſelf.

*Iago.* If thou doſt, I ſhall never love thee after. Why
thou filly Gentleman ?

*Rod.* It is fillineſſe to live, when to live is torment :
and then have we a preſcription to die, when death is
our Phyſitian.

*Iago.* Oh villanous : I have look'd upon the world
for four times leven yeares, and ſince I could diſtinguifha

betwixt a Benefit and an Injury, I never found man that
knew how to love himſelf. Ere I would ſay, I would
drown my ſelf for the love of a Gynney Hen, I would
change my humanity with a Baboon.

*Rod.* What ſhould I doe, I conſeſſe it is my ſhame to
be ſo fond, but it is not in my virtue to amend it.

*Iago.* Virtue ? a Fig, 'tis in our ſelves that we are
thus, or thus. Our Bodies are our Gardens, to the which,
our Wills are Gardiners. So that if we will plant Net-
tles, or sow Lettice : Set Hyſop, and weed up Time :
Supply it with one gender of Hearbs, or diſtraet it with
many : either have it ſterill with idlenſſe, or manured
with Induſtry, why the power and Corrigible authority
of this lies in our wills. If the brain of our lives had not
one ſale of Reaſon, to poyſe another of Senſuality, the
blood and bafe ſenſe of our Natures would conduct us
to moſt prepoſtous Conclusions. But we have reaſon to
coole our raging Motions, or carnall Stings, or unbitted
Luſts : whereof I take this, that you call Love, to be a
Seſt, or Seyen.

*Rod.* It cannot be.

*Iago.* It is meery a Luft of the Blood, and a permiſſ-
on of the will. Come, be a man : drown thy ſelf ?
Drown Cats, and blinde Puppies. I have proſeſt me thy
Friend, and I conſeſſe me knit to thy deferring, with Ca-
bles of perdurable toughneſſe. I could never better ſeed
thee than now. Put money in thy purſe : follow thou
the Warres, defeat thy favour, with an uſurped Beard. I
ſay, put money in thy purſe. It cannot be long that *Def-
demona* should continue her love to the Moore. Put Mo-
ney in thy purſe : nor he his to her. It was a violent Com-
mencement in her, and thou ſhalt fee an anſwerable Se-
queſtration, but put money in thy purſe. Theſe Moores
are changeable in their wills : fill thy purſe with money.
The food that to him now is as lufhious as Lociuſt, ſhall
to him ſhortly be as bitter as Coloquintida. She muſt
change for youth : when he is ſated with his body, ſhe
will finde the errors of her choyce. Therefore put mo-
ney in thy purſe. If thou wilt needs dam ſelf, doe
it a more delicate way then drowning. Make all the mo-
ney thou canſt : If San'timony and a fraſſe vow, be-
twixt an erring *Barbarian*, and ſuper-fubtle *Venetian* be
not too hard for my wits, and all the tribe of hell, thou
ſhalt enjoy her : therefore make money : a pox of draw-
ning thy ſelf, it is clean out of the way. Seek thou ra-
ther to be hang'd in compaſſing thy joy, then to be
drown'd, and go without her.

*Rod.* Wilt thou be ſaſt to my hopes, If I depend on
the iffue?

*Iago.* Thou art ſure of me : Go make money : I have
told thee often, and I re-tell thee again, and again, I
hate the Moore. My cauſe is hearted ; thine hath no leſſe
reaſon. Let us be conjuncſtive in our revenge, againſt
him. If thou canſt Cuckold him, thou doſt thy ſelf a
pleasure, me a ſport. There are many Events in the
Wombe of Time, which will be delivered. Traverſe, go,
provide thy money. We will have more of this to mor-
row. Adieu.

*Rod.* Where ſhall we meet i' the morning ?

*Iago.* At my Lodging.

*Rod.* I'le be with thee betimes.

*Iago.* Go to, farewell. Doe you here, *Rodovigo* ?

*Rod.* I'le ſell all my Land.

Exit.

*Iago.* Thus doe I ever make my Foolè, my purſe :

For I mine own gain'd knowledge ſhould profane ;

If I would time expend with ſuch a Swain,

But

The Tragedy of Othello

But for my Sport, and Profit: I hate the Moore,
And it is thought abroad, that 'twixt my fowers
He has done my Office. I know not if't be true,
But I, for meer fuspfition in that kinde,
Will doe, as if for Surety. He holds me well,
The better shall my purpofe work on him :
Caffio's a proper man : Let me see now,
To get this place, and plume up my will
In double Knavery. How ? how ? Let's see.
After fome time, to abufe Othello's eares,
That he is too familiar with his wife :
He hath a person, and a smooth difpofe
To be fuspected: fram'd to make women falfe.
The Moore is of a free, and open Nature,
That thinks men honesc; that but feem to be so,
And will as tenderly be led by th' Noſe
As Aſſes are :
I hav't : it is engendred : Hell, and Night,
Muſt bring this monſtrous Birth to the worlds light.

## Aſtus Secundus. Scena Prima.

### Enter Montano, and Gentlemen.

Mon. What from the Cape, can you discern at Sea ?

1. Gen. Nothing at all, it is a high wrought Flood : I cannot 'twixt the heaven and the Main, Defcry a Sail.

Mon. Me thinks the wind hath spoke aloud at Land,
A fuller blast ne're shook our Battlements :
If it hath ruffiand fo upon the Sea,
What ribs of Oak, when Mountains melt on them,
Can hold the Morties. What shall we hear of this ?

2. A Segregation of the Turkijb Fleet:
For do but stand upon the foaming shore,
The chidden Billow feems to pelt the clouds,
The wind-shak'd Surge, with high and monſtrous Main,
Seems to caſt water on the burning Bear,
And quench the Guards of th'ever-fixed Pole :
I never like moſtetation view
On the enchafed Flood.

Mon. If that the Turkijb Fleet
Be not inſhelver'd, and embay'd, they are drown'd,
It is impoffible to bear it out.

### Enter a Gentleman.

3. Newes Lads: our Wars are done:
The deferuate Tempeſt hath fo bang'd the Turks,
That their deſignment halts. A Noble ſhip of Venice,
Hath feen a grievous wrack and ſufferance
On moſt part of their Fleet.

Mon. How ? Is this true ?

3. The Ship is here put in: A Veroneſo, Michael Caffio
Lieutenant to the warlike Moore, Othello,
Is come on ſhore: the Moore himself at Sea,
And is in full Commiffion here for Cyprus.

Mon. I am glad on't :

'Tis a worthy Governour.
3. But this fame Caffio, though he ſpeak of comfort,
Touching the Turkijb loffe, yet he looks sadly,
And prayes the Moore be ſafe; for they were parted
With foule and violent Tempeſt.

Mon. Pray heavens he be:

For I have ſerv'd him, and the man commands
Like a full Souldier. Let's to the Sea ſide (hoa)
As well to fee the Veffell that cones in,
As to throw out our eyes for brave Othello,
Even till we make the Main, and th' Eriall blew
And indiſtinet regard.

Gent. Come, let's do so ;
For every minute is expeſtancy
Of more Arrivancy.

### Enter Caffio.

Caf. Thanks you, the valiant of the warlike Ifle,
That ſo approve the Moore : Oh let the heavens
Give him defence againſt the Elements,
For I have loſt him on a dangerous Sea,

Mon. Is he well ſhipp'd ?

Caf. His Bark is ſloutly Timber'd, and his Pilot
Of very expert, and approv'd Allowance;
Therefore my hopes (not ſurfetted to death)
Stand in bold Cure.

Within. A Sail, a Sail, a Sail.

Caf. What noſe ?

Gent. The Town is empty; on the brow oth' Sea
Stand ranks of People, and they cry, a Sail.

Caf. My hopes do ſhape him for the Governour,
Gent. They do diſcharge their ſhot of courteſie,
Our friends, at leaſt.

Caf. I pray you, fir, go forth.

And give us truth who 'tis that is arriv'd.

Gent. I ſhall.

Exit.

Mon. But good Lieutenant, is your Generall wiv'd ?

Caf. Moſt fortunately, he hath atchiev'd a Maid
That paragons deſcription, and wilde Fame :
One that excells the quirks of blazoning Pens,
And in th' eſſentiall Veſture of Creation,
Do's tire the Ingeniver.

### Enter Gentleman.

How now ? who has put in ?

Gent. 'Tis one Iago, Ancient to the Generall.

Caf. Ha's had moſt favourable, and happy ſpeed :
Tempeſts themſelves, high Seas, and howling winds,
The gutter'd Rocks, and Congregated Sands,
Traitors enſteep'd, to enclogge the guiltieſſe Keel,
As having ſenſe of Beauty do omit
Their mortall Natures, letting go safely by
The divine Deſdemona.

Mon. What is the?

Caf. She that I ſpake of:

Our great Captain's Captain,
Left in the Conduct of the bold Iago,
Whofe footing here anticipates our thoughts,
A Sennights ſpeed. Great Jove, Othello guard,
And ſwell his Sail with thine own powerfull breath,
That he may bleſſe this Bay with his taill Ship,
Make loves quick pants in Deſdemonaes armes,
Give renew'd fire to our extintçãoſt Spirits.

### Enter Deſdemona, Iago, Roderigo, and Amilia.

Oh behold,
The riches of the ſhip is come on ſhore :
You men of Cyprus, let her have your knees.
Hail to thee, Lady: and the grace of heaven,
Before, behind thee, and on every hand
Enwheele thee round.

Deſ. I thank you, valiant Caffio,
What tidings can you tell me of my Lord?

Caffio.

The Moore of Venice.

795

Caf. He is not arriv'd, nor know I ought
But that he's well, and will be shortly here.

Def. Oh but I fear :
How loft you company ?

Caf. The great contention of the Sea and Skies,
Parted our Fellowship. But hark, a Saile.

Within. A Saile, a Saile.

Gent. They give this greeting to the Cittadell :
This likewife is a friend.

Caf. See for the News :
Good Ancient, you are welcome. Welcome Miftisr.

Let it not gall your patience (good Iago)

That I extend my Manners. 'Tis my breeding,
That gives me this bold thew of Courteſe,

Iago. Sir, would the give you lo much of her lips,
As of her tongue the oft beſtowes of me,
You would have enough.

Def. Alafs: the has no ſpeech.

Iago. Inſaith, too much :
I find it full, when I have leave to ſleep,

Marry before your Ladifhip, I grant,
She puts her tongue a little in her heart,

And chides with thinking.

Emil. You have little caufe to ſay ſo.

Iago. Come on, come on: you are Pictures out of doors:
Bells in your Parlors: Wilde-Cats in your Kitchens :

Saints in your injuries : Devils being offended :

Players in your Hufwifery, and Hufwives in your Beds.

Def. Oh, ſie upon thee, flanderer.

Iago. Nay, it is true: or eſſe I am a Turk.

You rife to play, and go to bed to work.

Emil. You ſhall not write my præife.

Iago. No, let me not.

Def. What would it write of me, if thou shouldst ſt
præife me,

Iago. Oh, gentle Lady, doe not put me to't,

For I am nothing, if not Criticall,

Def. Come on, aſſay.

There's one gone to the Harbour ?

Iago, I, Madam.

Def. I am not merry : but I doe beguile
The thing I am, by feeming otherwife,
Come, how would it thou præife me?

Iago. I am about it, but indeed my invention comes
from my Pate, as Birdline does from Freeze, it plucks
out Braines and all, But my Mufe labours, and thus ſhe
is delivered.

If ſhe be fair, and wife : fairneſſe and wit,
The one's for uſe, the other uſeth it.

Def. Well prais'd :
How if the be black and witty?

Iago. If ſhe be black, and thereto have a wit,
She'll find a white, that shall her blackneſſe fit,

Def. Worſe and worſe.

Æmil. How if fair and foolish,

Iago. She never yet was foolish that was fair,
For even her folly helpt her to an heir.

Defd. Theſe are old fond Paradoxes, to make Fooles
laugh iſt' Alchouse. What miteable præife haſt thou
her that's foule and foolish,

Iago. There's none ſo foule and foolish thereunto,
But does foule pranks, which fair, and wife ones doe.

Defd. Oh heavy ignorance: thou præifeſt the worſt
beſt. But what præife could it thou beſtow on a defer-
ving woman indeed ? One, that in the authority of her

merit, did juſtly put on the vouch of very malice it
ſelf.

Iago. She that was ever fair, and never proud,
Had tongue at will, and yet was never loud:

Never lackt gold, and yet went never gay,
Fled from her wifh, and yet ſaid now I may.

She that being angred, her revenge being nigh,
Bad her wrong ſay, and her diſpleasure fly.

She that in wifedome never was ſo fraile,

To change the Cod's Head for the Salmon's Tail :

She that could think, and ne're diſcove her mind,

See Suitors following, and not look behind :

She was a Wight, (if ever ſuch Wights were)

Def. To do what ?

Iago. To ſuckle Fooles, and chronicle ſmall Beer.

Defd. Oh moſt lame and impotent conclusion. Doe
not learn of him, Amilia, though he be thy Husband.
How ſay you (Cafsio) is he not a moſt profane, and li-
berall Counſellor ?

Cafsio. He speaks home (Madam) you may reſilſh him
more in the Souldier, than in the Scholler.

Iago. He takes her by the palme: I, well ſaid, whif-
per. With as little a web as this, will I enſnare as great
a Fly as Cafsio. I, smile upon her, doe: I will give thee
in thine own Courſhip. You ſay true, 'tis ſo indeed.
If ſuch tricks as theſe ſtrip you out of your Lieutenan-
try, it had been better you had not kifs'd your three fin-
gers ſo oft, which now again you are moſt apt to play
the Sir in. Very good: well kifs'd, and excellent Curt-
fie : 'tis ſo indeed. Yet again, your fingers to your
Lips ? Would they were Clifter-pipes for your
fake,

The Moore, I know his Trumper.

Cafsio. 'Tis truly ſo.

Def. Let's meet him, and receive him.

Cafsio, Loe, where he come.

Enter Othello, and Attendants.

Oth. O my fair Warriour.

Def. My dear Othello.

Oth. It gives me wonder, great as my content
To fee you here before me.

Oh my foules joy :

If after every Tempeſt, come ſuch calmes,

May the windes blow, till they have waken'd death :

And let the labouring Barke clinabe hills of Seas

Olympus high : and duck again as low,

As hell's from heaven. If it were now to dye,

'Twere now to be moſt happy. For I fear,

My foule hath her content ſo absolute,

That not another comfort like to this,

Succeeds in unknown Fate.

Def. The heavens forbid

But that our Loves

And Comforts should encreafe

Even as our dayes doe grow.

Othe. Amen to that (ſweet Powers)

I cannot ſpeak enough of this content,

It ſtops me here : it is too much of joy,

And this, and this the greatest diſcords be

That e're our hearts shall make.

Iago. Oh you are well tun'd now: But I'le fet down
the Pegs that make this Mufick, as honeſt as I am.

Othe.

The Tragedy of Othello

Orhe. Come, let us to the Castle.
News, (Friends) our warres are done :
The Turks are drown'd.
How do's my old acquaintance of this Isle ?
(Hony) you shall be well defir'd in Cyprus,
I have found great love amongst them. O my Sweet,
I prattle out of fashion, and I doat
In mine own comforts. I prethee, good Iago,
Go to the Bay, and disembarke thy Coffers :
Bring thou the Mafter to the Cittadell,
He is a good one, and his worthineffle
Do's challenge much respect. Come Defdemona,
Once more well met at Cyprus.

Exit Othello and Defdemona.

Iago. Do you meet me prefently at the harbour. Come thither, if thou be't valiant, (as they say, bare men being in love, have then a Nobility in their Natures, more than is native to them) lift-me ; the Lieutenant to night wathes on the Court of Guard. Firft, I muft tell thee this :
*Defdemona* is directly in love with him.

Rod. With him ? why, 'tis not poffible.

Iago. Lay thy finger thus; and let thy foule be intrusted. Marke me with what violence he lov'd the Moore, but for bragging, and telling her fantasitically lies. To love him still for prating, let not thy difcreeet heart think it. Her eye muſt be fed. And what delight shall he have to look on the Devil ? When the blood is made dull with the Act of Sport, there ſhould be a game to enflame it, and to give fatiery a fresh appetite. Love-lineſe in favour, ſympathy in yeares, Manners, and Beauties: all which the Moore is defective in. Now for want of theſe requir'd Conveniences, her delicate tenderneſſe will find it ſelf abus'd, begin to heave the gorge, diſtreſſh and abhorre the Moore, very Nature will inſtruct her in it, and compell her to ſome ſecond choyce. Now, fir, this granted (as it is a moſt pregnant and unfor'd poſition) who ſtands ſo eminent in the degree of this Fortune, as Caffio do's: a Knave very voluble : no further conſeacionable, than in putting on the meer form of Civil, and humane ſceming, for the better compaſſe of his Salt, and moſt hidden loofe affection ? Why none, why none: A flippery, and fubtle Knave, a finder of occafion: that has an eye can ſtamp and counterfeit advantages, though true advantage never preſent it ſelf. A Devililh Knave: befides, the Knave is hanfome, young: and hath all thofe requisites in him, that folly and green minds look after. A peſtulent compleat Knave, and the woman hath found him already.

Rod. I cannot believe that in her, ſhe's full of moſt bleſs'd condition,

Iago. Bleſs'd Figs-end. The Wine he drinks is made of Grapes. If he had been bleſs'd, he would never have lov'd the Moore: Bieſs'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 courteſie.

Iago. Leachery by this hand: an Index, and obſcure prologue to the History of Luft and foule Thoughts. They met ſo near with their lips, that their breaths embrac'd together. Villanous Thoughts Rodorigo, when theſe mutabilities ſo marſhall the way, hard at hand comes the Maſter, and main exercife, th'incorporate conclusion: Pifh. But, fir, be you rul'd by me. I have brought you from Venice. Watch you to night: for the command, I'le lay't upon you. Caffio knows you not: I'le not be farre from you. Doe you find ſome oc-

cation to anger Caffio, either by speaking too loud, or tainting his diſcipline, or from what other courſe you pleafe, which the time ſhall more favourably miniſter.

Rod. Well.

Iago. Sir, he's rafh, and very ſudden in Choller: and happily may ſtrike at you, provoke him that he may: for even out of that will, I cauſe theſe of Cyprus to Mutiny. Whole qualification ſhall come into no true tafte again, but by diſplanting of Caffio. So ſhall you have a ſhorter journey to your defires, by the means I ſhall then have to preferre them. And the impediment moſt profitably removed, without the which there were no expectation of our p[ro]sperity.

Rod. I will doe this, if you can bring it to any opportunity.

Iago. I warrant thee. Meet me by and by at the Cittadell. I muſt fetch his neceſſaries aſhore. Farewell.

Rod. Adieu.

Exit.

Iago. That Caffio loves her, I doe well believ't: That the loves him, 'tis apt, and of great credite. The Moore (howbeit that I endure him not) Is of a conſtant, loving, noble Nature, And I dare think, he'll prove to Defdemona, A moſt dear Husband. Now I doe love her too, Not out of absolute Luft, (though peradventure I ſtand accountant for as great a fin) But partly led to diet my Revenge, For that I doe ſuppect the luſty Moore Hath leapt into my ſeat. The thought whereof, Doth (like a p[oy]ſonous Minerall) gnaw my Inwards: And nothing can, or ſhall content my Soule Till I am even'd with him, wife for wife. Or failing ſo, yet that I put the Moore, At leaſt into a Jealousie ſo ſtrong, That Judgement cannot cure. Which thing to doe, If this poor Traſh of Venice, whom I trace For his quick hunting, ſtand the putting on, I'le have our Michael Caffis on the hip, Abufe him to the Moore, in the right garbe (For I fear Caffio with my Night-Cap too) Make the Moore thank me, love me, and reward me, For making him egregiously an Aſſe, And prætling upon his peace and quiet, Even to madneſſe. 'Tis here: but yet confus'd, Knaveries plain face, is never ſeen, till us'd.

Exit.

## Scena Secunda.

Enter Othello's Herald with a Proclamation.

Herald, It is Othello's pleafure, our Noble and Valiant Generall; That upon certain tydings now arriv'd, importing the meer perdition of the Turkisſh Fleet, every man put himſelf into Triumph. Some to dance, ſome to make Bonefires, each man to what Sport and Revels his addition leads him. For befides theſe beneficill Newes, it is the Delebration of his Nuptiall. So much was his pleafure ſhould be proclaimed. All Offices are open, and there is full liberty of Feasting from this pre-

The Moore of Venice.

797

prefent houre of five, till the Bell have con'd eleven.

Bleſſe the Ille of Cyprus, and our Noble Generall Othello,
Exit.

Enter Othello, Desdemona, Caffisio, and Attendants.

Othel. Good Michael, look you to the Guard to night.

Let's teach our felves that honourable top,
Not to out-fport diſcretion.

Caf. Iago hath direction what to doe,
But notwithstanding with my ſonſonall eye
Will I look to't.

Othe. Iago is moſt honſte:

Michael, good night. To morrow with your earlieſt,

Let me have ſpeech with you. Come my dear Love,

The purchase made, the fruits are to enſue,

That profit's yet to come ? between me and you.

Good night.

Exit.

Enter Iago.

Caf. Welcome Iago; we muſt to the Watch.

Iago. Not this houre Lieutenant: 'tis not yet ten o'clock.
Clock. Our Generall caſt us thus early for the love of his
Desdemona : Whom, let us not therefore blame; he
hath not yet made wanton the night with her: and ſhe
is ſport for Jove.

Caf. She's a moſt exquifite Lady.

Iago. And, I'le warrant her, full of Game,

Caf. Indeed ſhe's a moſt fresh and delicate creature.

Iago. What an Eye ſhe has?

Me thinks it founds a parley to provocation.

Caf. An inviting eye:

And yet me thinks right modèts

Iago. And when the ſpeaks,

Is it not an Alarum to Love?

Caf. She is indeed perſection.

Iago. Well: happineſſe to their ſheers, Come Lieu-
tenant, I have a ſtope of Wine, and here without are a
brace of Cyprus Gallants, that would fain have a meaſure
to the health of black Othello.

Caf. Not to night, good Iago: I have very poor, and
unhappy Brains for drinking. I could well with count-
tefie would invent ſome other eſtume of entertainment.

Cafisio. Oh, they are our Friends : but one Cup, I'll
drink for you.

Cafisio. I have drunk but one Cup to night; and that
was craftily qualified too: and behold what innovation
it makes here. I am inſortunate in the infirmity, and
dare not task my weakneſſe with any more.

Iago. What man ? 'tis a night of Revels, the Gallants
defire it.

Caf. Where are they?

Iago. Here, at the door: I pray you call them in,

Caf. Ile do't, but it diſlikes me.

Iago. If I can faſten but one Cup upon him
With that which he hath drunk to night already,
He'll be as full of Quarrell, and Offence

As my young Miftris's Dog,

Now my ſick Foole, Radorigo,

Whom Love hath turn'd almost the wrong ſide out,

To Desdemona hath to night Carrows'd,

Potations, pottle-deep; and he's to watch.

Three ſelfe of Cyprus, Noble ſwellung (pirits,

(That hold their honours in a wary diſtance,
The very Elements of this warlike Ille)

Have I to night flutter'd with flowing Cups,
And they Watch too.

Now 'mongſt this Flock of Drunkards,

And I to put our Caffisio in some Action

That may offend the Ille. But here they conie,

Enter Caffisio, Montano, and Gentlemen.

If ſequence doe but approve my dreame,

My Boat ſailes freely, both with wind and ſtreame.

Caf. 'Fore heaven, they have given 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 Cannakin clink, clink:

And let me the Cannakin clink.

A Souldier's a man : Ob, man's life's but a ſpan,

Why then let a Souldier drink.

Some Wine Boyes,

Caf. 'Fore heaven, an excellent Song.

Iago, I learn'd it in England: where indeed they are
moſt potent in Potting. Your Dane, your Germane, and
your twag-belly'd Hollander, (drink hoa) are nothing to
your English.

Caffisio. Is your English-man ſo exquifite in his drinking?

Iago. Why, he drinks you with facility, your Dane
dead Drunk. He ſweares not to overthrow your Al-
main. He gives your Hollander a vomit, ere the next
Pottle can be fill'd.

Caf. To the health of our Generall,

Mou. I am for it, Lieutenant: and I'le do you Juitſice.

Iago. Oh ſweet England.

King Stephen was and a worthy Peer,

His Breeches coſt him but a Crown,

He held them ſix pence all too dear,

With that he call'd the Taylor Lowne :

He was a Wight of high Renown,

And thou art but of low degree :

'Tis Pride that pulls the Countrey down,

And take thy awl'd Cloak about thee.

Some Wine hoa,

Caffisio. Why this is a more exquifite Song than the other.

Iago. Will you hear't again ?

Caf. No: for I hold him to be unworthy of his place,
that do's those things. W'LL: heaven's above all: and
there be foules muſt be ſaved, and there be ſoules muſt
not be ſaved.

Iago. It's true, good Lieutenant.

Caf. For mine own part, no offence to the Generall,
nor any man of quality: I hope to be ſaved.

Iago. And ſo do I too, Lieutenant.

Caffisio. I: (but by your leave) not before me. The
Lieutenant is to be ſaved before the Ancient. Lets have
no more of this: lets to our affaires. Forgive our fins :
Gentlemen, lets look to our buſineſſe. Do not think
Gentlemen, I am Drunk: this is my Ancient, this is my
ight hand, and this is my left. I am not drunk now: I
can stand well enough, and I ſpeak well enough.

Gent. Excellent well,

Caf. Why very well then: you muſt not think then,
that I am drunk.

Montano. To th' Platforme (Masters) come, lets let
the Watch.

Iago. You fee this fellow that is gone before,

He is a Soldier, fit to stand by Caſar,

And give direction. And doe but fee his vice,

'Tis to his Virtues a juſt Equinox,

The

The Tragedy of Othello

799

The one as long as th'other. 'Tis pitty of him;
I fear the truff Othello puts him in,
On some odde time of his infirmity
Will flake this Ifland,

Mont. But is he often thus

Iago. 'Tis evermore his prologue to his fleep,
He'll watch the Horologue a double Set,
If drink rock 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 Virtue that appears in Caffio,
And looks not on his evill is not this true ?

Enter Rodorigo.

Iago. How now, Redorigo ?

I pray you after the Lieutenant, go.

Mont. And 'tis great pitty that the Noble Moore
Should hazard such a place, as his own Second,
With one ingraft Infirmity,
It were an honest Action, to say so
To the Moore,

Iago. Nor I, for this fair Ifland,

I do love Caffio well: and would do much

To cure him of this evil. But hark, what noyf ?

Enter Caffio purfuing Rodorigo.

Caf. You Rogue: you Ratcall.

Mon. What's the matter Lieutenant ?

Caf. A Knave teach myemy duty ? I'le beat the
Knave into a Tiggen Bottle.

Rod. Beat me.

Caf. Doft thouprate, Rogue ?

Mon. Nay, good Lieutenant :

I pray you, fir, hold your hand.

Caf. Let me go (fir)

Or I'le know you o're the Mazzard.

Mon. Come, come, you're Drunk.

Caffio. Drunk ?

Iago. Away I say: go out and cry a Muriny.

Nay, good Lieutenant. Alafs, Gentlemen :

Help hoa, Lieutenant. Sir Montano :

Help mafters. Here's a goodly Watch indeed.

Who's that which rings the Bell : Diablo, hoa :

The Town will rife. Fie, fie, Lieutenant,

You'll be affam'd for ever.

Othe. What is the matter here ?

Man. I bleed ſtil, I am hurt, but not to th' death.

Othe. Hold for your lives.

Iago. Hold hoa : Lieutenant, Sir Montane, Gentlemen :
Have you forgot all place of fenfe and duty ?

Hold. The Generall ſpeaks to you : hold for ſhame.

Oth. Why how now hoa ? From whence arifeth this?
Are we turn'd Turks and to our ſelves do that

Which heaven hath forbid the Ottamites.

For Chriſtian ſhame, put by this barbarous brawle :

He that ſtrifes next to carve for his own rage,
Holds his ſoule light: He dies upon his Motion.

Silence, that dreadfull Bell, it frights the Ifle

From her propriety. What is the matter, Maſters.

Honeſt Iago, that looks dead with grieving,

Speek : who began this ? On thy love I charge thee ?

Iago. I do not know : Friends all, but now, even now
In Quarter, and in terms like Bride and Groom

Deveſting them for Bed : and then, but now :

(As if ſome Planet had unwitted men)

Sword out, and tilting one at others breaths,
In opposition bloody. I cannot ſpeak
Any beginning to this peevish oddes,
And would in Action glorious, I had loft
Thofe legs that brought me to a part of it.

Othe. How comes it (Michael) you are thus forgot?

Caf. I pray you pardon me, I cannot ſpeak.

Othe. Worthy Montano, you were wont to be civil :

The gravity and ſtineſſe of your youth

The world hath noted. And your name is great

In mouthes of wifef Cenſure. What's the matter

That you unlace your reputation thus,

And ſpend your rich opinion, for the name

Of a night-brawler ? Give me anſwer to it.

Mon. Worthy Othello, I am hurt to danger,

Your Officer Iago can inform you,

While I ſpare ſpeech, which ſomething now offends me.

Of all that I do know, nor know I ought

By me ; that's faſt, or done amſſe this night,

Unleſſe ſelf-charity be ſometimes a vice,

And to defend our ſelves it be a ſin,

When violence affailes us.

Othe. Now by heaven,

My blood begins my faſer Guides to rule,

And Paffion (having my beſt judgement collied)

Aſſayes to lead the way. If I once ſtrifle,

Or doe but lift this Arme, the beſt of you

Shall ſink in my rebuke. Give me to know

How this foul Rout began : Who fet it on,

And he that is approv'd in this ſoffence,

Thou he had twinn'd with me, both at a birth,

Shall lioſe me. What in a Town of warre,

Yet wilde, the peoples hearts brim-full of fear,

To manage private, and domeſtick Quarrell ?

In night, and on the Court and Guard of ſafety ?

'Tis monſtrous : Iago, who began't ?

Man. If partially Aſſ'nd, or league in office,

Thou doſt deliver more, or leſſe than truth,

Thou art no ſouldier.

Iago. Touch me not so near,

I had rather have this tongue cut from my mouth,

Than it ſhould doe ſoffence to Michael Caffio.

Yet I perſwade my ſelf, to ſpeak ſo the truth

Shall nothing wrong him. This it is Generall :

Montano and my ſelf being in ſpeech,

There comes a Fellow, crying out for help,

And Caffio following him with determin'd Sword,

To execute upon him. Sir, this Gentleman,

Steps in to Caffio, and intreats his pawſe :

My ſelf, the crying ſellow did purſue,

Left by his clamour (as it ſo fell out)

The Town might fall in fright. He, (ſwift of foot)

Out-ran my purpofe : and I return'd the rather

For that I heard the clink and ſall of Swords,

And Caffio high in oath : which till to night

I ne're might ſay before. When I came back

(For this was brief) I found them cloſe together

At blow, and thraſt, even as again they were

When you your ſelf did part them :

More of this matter, cannot I report,

But men are men : the beſt ſometimes forget,

Though Caffio did ſome little wrong to him,

As men in rage ſtrike thofe that with them beſt,

Yet ſurely Caffio, I believe, receiv'd

From him that ſled, ſome ſtrange indignity,

Which patience could not paffe.

Othe.

The Moore of Venice.

799

Orhe. I know, Iago,

Thy honefty and love doth mince this matter,
Making it light to Caffio: Caffio, I love thee,
But never more be Officer of mine.

Enter Defdemona attended.

Look if my gentle Love be not rais'd up:
I'le make thee an example.

Def. What's the matter (Dear ?)

Orhe. All's well, Sweeting :

Come away to bed. Sir, for your hurts,

My felf will be your Surgeon. Lead him off :

Iago, look with care about the Town,

And silence thofe whom this vile brawle diftraeted.

Come, Defdemona, 'tis the Souldiers life,

To have their Balmy flumbers wak'd with ftrife. Exit.

Iago. What, are you hurt, Lieutenant ?

Caf. I, paft all Surgery.

Iago. Marry heaven forbid,

Caf. Reputation, Reputation, Reputation : Oh I have
loft my Reputation. I have loft the immortall part of my
felf, and what remains is beſtiall. My Reputation, Iago,
my Reputation.

Iago. As I am an honest man, I had thought you had
received fome bodily wound § there is more fence in that
then in Reputation, Reputation is an idle, and moſt falſe
impoſition ; oft got without merit, and loft without de-
ferving. You have loft no Reputation at all, unleſſe you
repute your felf ſuch a loofer. What man, there are more
wayses to recover the Generall again. You are but now
caſt in his mood, (a puniſhment more in policy, than in
malice) even ſo as one would beat his offenceleſſe dog,
to affright an Imperious Lyon. Sue to him again, and
he's yours.

Caf. I will rather fue to be deſpis'd, then to deceive
ſo good a Commander, with ſo flight, ſo drunken, and
ſo indiſcreet an Officer. Drunk ? and ſpeak Parrat ? and
ſquabble ? swagger ? ſwear ? and diſcourſe Fuſtian, which
ones own ſhadow ? O thou invisible ſpirit of Wine,
if thou haſt no name to be known by, let us call the
Devil.

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 Enemy in their mouths, to ſteale a-
way their Brains ? that we ſhould with joy pleafance, re-
vel and applaufe, transform our ſelves into Beaſts.

Iago. Why ? But you are now well enough: how came
you thus recovered ?

Caf. It hath pleas'd the Devil Drunkenneſſe, to giue
place to the Devil Wrath, one unperſeetneſſe ſhewes me
another, to make me frankly deſpife my ſelf.

Iago. Come, you are too fevere a Moraller. As the
Time, the Place, and the Condition of this Countray
ſtands, I could heartily with this had not befaln: but ſince
itis , as it is, mend it for your own good.

Caf. I will ask him for my Place again, he ſhall tell
me, I am a Drunkard: had I as many mouthes as Hydra,
fuch an anſwer would ſtop them all. To be now a ſen-
fible man, by and by a Foole, and prefentely a Beaſt. Oh
ſtrange ! Every inordinate Cup is unbleſſ'd, and the In-
gredient is a Devil.

Iago. Come, come : good Wine is a good familiar
Creature, if it be well us'd: exclaire no more againſt
it. And good Lieutenant, I think, you think I love
you.

Caffio. I have well approved it, Sir, I drunk ?

Iago. You, or any man living, may be drunk at a time,
man. I tell you what you ſhall do : Our Generals Wife
is now the Geuerall. I may ſay ſo in this reſpect, for
that he hath devoted, and given up himself to the con-
templation, marke : and devotement of her parts and
Graces. Conſeſſe your ſelf freely to her: Importune her
help to put you in your place again. She is of ſo free, ſo
kinde, ſo apt, ſo bleſſed a diſpoſition, ſhe holds it a vice
in her goodneſſe, not to do more then ſhe is requeſted.
This broken joynt between you and her Husband, entreat
her to ſplinter. And my Fortunes againſt any lay worth
naming, this crack of your love, ſhall grow ſtronger then
it was before.

Caffio. You advife me well.

Iago. I proteſt in the fincjerity of Love, and honest
kindneſſe.

Caffio. I think it freely : and berimes in the morning,
I will beſeech the virtuous Defdemona to undertake for
me: I am deferpeate 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 fayes I play the Villain ?

When this advice is free I give, and honest,
Proball to thinking, and indeed the courſe
To win the Moor again.

For 'tis moſt eafie
Th'inclining Defdemona to ſubdue

In any honest Suit, She's fram'd as fruitfull
As the free Elements. And then for her
To win the Moore, were to renounce his Baptisme,
Ali Seales, and Symbols of redeemed fin :
His Soule is ſo enfetter'd to her Love,

That ſhe may make, unmake, doe what ſhe lift :

Even as her appetite ſhall play the god

With his weak Function, How am I then a Villain,

To counſell Caffio to this paralell courſe.

Directly to his good ? Divinity of Hell,

When Devils will the blackeſt fins put on,
They do fuggeſt at firſt with heaſenly ſhewes,

As I doe now. For while this honest Foole

Plies Defdemona, to repair his Fortune,

And ſhe for him, pleads ſtrongly to the Moore,

I'le poure this peſtience into his care :

That ſhe repeales him, for her bodies Luft,

And by how much ſhe ſtrives to doe him good,

She ſhall undoe her Credit with the Moore.

So will I turn her virtue into pitch,
And out of her own goodneſſe make the Net,

That ſhall enmaſh them all.

How now, Rodorigo ?

Enter Rodorigo.

Rodorigo. I doe follow here in the Chace, not like a
Hound that Hunts, but one that fills up the Cry. My mo-
ney is almoſt ſpent ; I have been to night exceedingly
well Cudgell'd : And I think the iſſue will be, I ſhall

Yyy

have

800

The Tragedy of Othello

have so much experience for my pains; and to, with no
money at all, and a little more wit, return again to Ve-
nice.

Iago. How poor are they that have not Patience ?
What wound did ever heal but by degrees ?

Thou know'st we work by wit, and not by witchcraft;
And wit depends on dilatory time :

Doth not go well? Caffio hath beaten thee,

And by that small hurt haſt caſheer'd Caffio :

Though other things grow fair againſt the Sun,

Yet Fruits that bloom firſt, will firſt be ripe :

Content thy self a while. Introth 'tis Morning ;

Pleasure and Action make the houres seem ſhort.

Retire thee: go where thou art. Billied :

Away, I say, thou haſt know more hereafter :

Nay, get thee gone.

Exit Rodorigo.

Two things are to be done:

My Wife muſt move for Caffio to her Miftris :

I'le fet her on my ſelf a while, to draw the Moore apart,
And bring him jump, when he may Caffio find

Soliciting his wife: I, that's the way :

Dull not Device, by coldneſſe and delay.

Exit.

Actus Tertius. Scena Prima.

Enter Caffio, Musicians, and Clown.

Caffio. Maſters, play here, I will content your pains,
Something that's brief: and bid good morrow Generall.

Clo. Why Maſters, have your Inſtruments bin in Na-
ples, that they ſpeak ith' Noſe thus ?

Muf. How, Sir ? how ?

Clo. Are theſe, I pray you, wind Inſtruments ?

Muf. I marry are they, fir.

Clo. Oh, thereby hangs a tale.

Muf. Whereby hangs a tale, fir ?

Clo. Marry, fir, by many a wind Inſtrument that I
know. But, Maſters, here's money for you : and the Ge-
nerall ſo likes your Mufick, that he deſires you for loves
fake to make no noyſe with it.

Muf. Well, Sir, we will not.

Clo. If you have any Mufick that may not be heard,
too't again. But (as they tay) to hear Mufick, the Ge-
nerall do's not greatly care.

Muf. We have none ſuch, fir.

Clo. Then put up you Pipes in your bag, for I'le
away. Go, vanifh into ayre, away. Exit Muf.

Caffio. Doth thou hear me, mine honef Friend ?

Clo. No, I hear not your honef Friend :

I hear you.

Caffio. Prethee keep up thy Quillets, there's a poor
piece of Gold for thee : if the Gentlewoman that attends
the Generall be stirring, tell her, there's one Caffio en-
treats her a little favour of ſpeech. Wilt thou do this ?

Clo. She is stirring, fir: if he will stirre hither, I haſl
 seem to notiſe unto her.

Exit Clo.

Enter Iago.

In happy time, Iago.

Iago. You have not bin a bed then ?

Caf. Why no: the day had broke before we parted.
I have made bold (Iago) to fend in to your wife :

My ſuit to her is, that he will to virtuous
Procure me some acceſſe.

Iago. I'l'tend her to you prefently :

And I'le devife a mean to draw the Moore

Out of the way, that your converſe and buſineſſe
May be more free.

Exit.

Caffio. I humbly thank you for't. I never knew
A Florentine more kind and honef. Enter Aemilia.

Amil. Good morrow (good Lieutenant) I am forry
For your displeasure; but all will fure be well,
The Generall and his wife are talking of it,
And the ipeaks for you ſloutly. The Moore replies,
That he you hurt is of great Fame in Cyprus,
And great Affinity: and that in wholome wifedome
He might not but refuse you. But he proteſts he loves you,
And needs no other Suitor but his likings,

To bring you in again.

Caffio. Yet I beſeech you,
If you think fit, or that it may be done,
Give me advantage of ſome brief Difcourse
With Deſdemon alone.

Amil. Pray come in :

I will beſtow you where you ſhall have time
to ſpeak your boſome freely.

Caffio. I am much bound to you.

Exeunt.

Scena Secunda.

Enter Othello, Iago, and Gentlemen.

Othe. Theſe Letters give (Iago) to the Pilot,

And by him do my duties to the Senate :

That done, I will be walking on the Works,
Repair there to me.

Iago. Well, my good Lord, I'le do't.

Oth. This Fortification (Gentlemen) ſhall we fee't ?

Gent. We'll wait upon your Lordship.

Exeunt.

Scena Tertia.

Enter Deſdemona, Caffio, and Aemilia.

Deſ. Be thou affur'd (good Caffio) I will doe
All my abilities in thy behalf.

Amil. Good Madam, doe :

I warrant it grieves my Husband,

As if the caufe were his.

Deſ. Oh that's an honest Fellow: do not doubt, Caffio
But I will have my Lord and you again,
As friendly as you were.

Caffio. Bounteous Madam,
What ever ſhall become of Michael Caffio,
He's never any thing but your true Servant.

Deſ. I know't: I thank you: you do love my Lord :
You have known him long, and be you well affur'd,
He ſhall in ſtrangeneſſe ſtand no farther off,
Then in a politick diſtance.

Caffio. I, but Lady,
That policy may either laſt so long,
Or feed upon ſuch nice and watery diet,
Or breed it ſelf ſo out of Circumſtances,
That I being abſent, and my place ſuppli'd,
My Generall will forget my Love, and Service.

Deſ. Doe not doubt that : before Aemilia here,

I

802

The Tragedy of Othello

The work of words.

*Iago.* Good my Lord, pardon me...
Though I am bound to every Act of duty,
I am not bound to that: All Slaves are free :
Uter my thoughts ? Why fay they are vild, and falfe ?
As where's that Palace, whereinto foule things
Sometimes intrude not ? who has that breath so pure,
Wherein uncleanly apprehensions
Keep Leets, and Law-dayes, and in Seffions fit
With meditations lawfull ?

*Orb.* Thou doft confpire against thy Friend (*Iago*)
If thou but think't him wrong'd, and mak't his care
A stranger to thy thoughts.

*Iago.* I do beleech you,
Though I perchance am vicious in my gueffe
(As I confesse it is my Natures plague
To ſpie into abufes, and of my jealousy
Shapes faults that are not) that your wifedome
From one, that so imperfectly conceits,
Would take no notice, nor build your ſelf a trouble
Out of his ſcattering, and unfure obſervance :
It were not for your quiet, nor your good,
Nor for my manhood, honefly and wifedome,
To let you know my thoughts.

*Oth.* What doſt thou mean ?

*Iago.* Good name in man and woman (dear my Lord)
Is the immediate Jewel of their Soules ;
Who ſteales my purſe ſteales trath :
'Tis ſomething, nothing ;
'Twas mine, 'tis his, and has bin ſclave to thouſands :
But he that filches from me my good name,
Robs me of that, which not enriches him,
And makes me poor indeed.

*Oth.* Ile know thy Thoughts.

*Iago.* You cannot, if my heart were in your hand,
Nor ſhall not, while't 'tis in my cuſtody.

*Oth.* Ha ?

*Iago.* Oh, beware, my Lord, of jealousy,
It is the green-ey'd Monſter, which doth mock
The meat it feeds on. That Cuckold lives in blifſe,
Who certain of his Fate, loves not his wronger :
But oh, what damned minuſtells he o're,
Who dotes, yet doubts : Sufſpects, yet foundly loves ?

*Oth.* O miſery.

*Iago.* Poor, and Content, is rich, and rich enough,
But riches fineſſe, is as poor as Winter,
To him that ever ſeares he ſhall be poor :
Good Heaven, the Soules of all my Tribe defend
From jealousy.

*Oth.* Why ? why is this ?
Think't thou, I'd make a Life of Jealousie ;
To follow ſtill the changes of the Moon
With fresh ſuſpitions ? No : to be once in doubt,
Is to be refolv'd : Exchange me for a Goat,
When I ſhall turn the buſineſſe of my Soule
To ſuch exuſſicate, and blowed Surmiſes,
Matching the inference. 'Tis not to make me Jealous,
To ſay my wife is faire, feeds well, loves company,
Is free of ſpeech, Sings, Playes, and Dances :
Where Virtue is, there are moſt virtuous.
Nor from mine own weak merits, will I draw
The ſmallest ſeare, or doubt of her revolt,
For ſhe had eyes, and chofe me, No, *Iago*,
I'll fee before I doubt ; when I doubt, prove :
And on the proof, there is no more but this,
Away at once with Love, or Jealousie.

*Iago.* I am glad of this : for now I ſhall have reaſon
To ſhow the Love and Duty that I bear you
With franker ſpirit. Therefore (as I am bound)
Receive it from me. I ſpeak not yet of proof:
Look to your wife, obſerve her well with *Caffia*,
Wear your eyes, thus : not Jealous, nor Secure :
I would not have your free, and Noble Nature,
Out of ſelf-bounty be abus'd, look to't :
I know our Country diſpoſition well :
In *Venice*, they do let Heaven fee the pranks
They dare not ſhow their Husbands.
Their beſt Conſcience,
Is not to leav't undone, but kept unknown.

*Oth.* Doſt thou ſay ſo ?

*Iago.* She did deceive her Father, marrying you,
And when ſhe ſeem'd to ſhake, and fear your looks,
She ſlov'd them moſt.

*Oth.* And fo ſhe did.

*Iago.* VVhy, go to then :
She that ſo young could give out ſuch a Seeming
To feale his Fathers eyes up, close as Oake,
He thought 'twas witchcraft.
But I am much too blame :
I humbly do beſeech you of your pardon
For too much loving you.

*Oth.* I am bound to thee for ever.

*Iago.* I fee this hath a little daſh'd your Spirits :
*Oth.* Not a jot, not a jot.

*Iago.* Truſt me, I fear it has :
I hope you will confider what is ſpoke
Comes from my Love.
But I doe ſee y'are mov'd :
I am to pray you, not to ſtrain my ſpeech
To groſſer ſlues, nor to larger reach,
Then to Sufpition.

*Oth.* I will not.

*Iago.* Should you doe ſo (my Lord)
My ſpeech ſhould fall into ſuch vilde ſucceffe,
VVhich my thoughts ain'd not.

*Caffia's* my worthy friend :

*My Lord, I fee y'are mov'd :*

*Oth.* No, not much mov'd :

I do not think but *Deſdemona's* honest.

*Iago.* Long live the ſo ;

And long live you to think ſo.

*Oth.* And yet how Nature erring from it ſelf—

*Iago.* I there's the point :

As (to be bold with you)

Not to affect many proposed Matches
Of her own Clime, Complexion and Degree,
VWhere to we fee in all things, Nature tends :
Foh, one may ſmell in ſuch, a will moſt rank,
Foule diſproportions, thoughts unnaturall.
But (pardon me) I doe not in poſition
Difſtinctly ſpeak of her, though I may fear
Her will, recoyling to her better judgment,
May fall to match you with her Counſrey ſormes,
And happily repent.

*Oth.* Farewell, farewell :

If more thou doſt perceive, let me know more :

Set on thy wife to obſerve.

Leave me, *Iago*.

*Iago.* My Lord, I take my leave.

*Oth.* VVhy did I marry ?

This honest Creature (doubtſeſſe).

Sees, and knowes more, much more then he unfolds.

*Iago.*

The Moore of Venice.

803

Iago. My Lords, I would I might entreat your Honour

To can this thing no farther : Leave it to time,
Although 'tis fit that Caffio have his place;
For sure he fills it up with great ability;
Yet if you pleafe to put him off a while,
You shall by that perceive him, and his meanses :
Note if your Lady train his Entertainment
With any strong, or vehement importunity,
Much will be seen in that : In the mean time,
Let me be thought too bufte in my fears,
(As younigh t caufe I have to feare I am)
And hold your free, I doe befeech your Honour :

Oth. Feare not my government.

Iago. 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 doe prove her Haggard,
Though that her Jeffes were my dear heart-strings,
I'd whiftle her off, and let her downe the winde
To prey at Fortune. Haply, for I am black,
And have not those soft parts of Converfation
That Chamberers have : Or for I am declin'd
Into the vale of yeares (yet that's not much)
She's gone. I am abus'd, and my relief
Muft be to loathe her. Oh Curfe of Marriage !
That we can call these delicate Creatures ours,
And not their Appetites : I had rather be a Toad,
And live upon the Vapour of a Dungeon,
Then keep a corner in the thing I love
For others uſes. Yet 'tis the plague to Great-ones,
Prerogativ'd are they leſe then the Bafe ;
'Tis deftiny unſunnable like death :
Even then, this forked plague is Fated to us,
V When we do quicken. Look where ſhe comes :

Enter Defdemona, and Æmilia.

If she be falſe, Heaven mock'd it ſelf :
I'le not believe't.

Def. How now, my dear Othello ?

Your Dinner, and the generous Iſlanders
By you invited, do attend your prefence.

Oth. I am too blame.

Def. VVhy do you ſpeak fo faintly ?

Are you not well ?

Oth. I have a pain upon my Forehead here.

Def. VVhy that's with watching, 'twill away again.
Let me but binde it hard, within this houre
It will be well.

Oth. Your Napkin is too little :

Let it alone : Come, I'le go in with you. Exenct.

Def. I am very forry that you are not well.

Æmil. I am glad I have found this Napkin :
This was her firſt remembrance from the Moore,
My wayward Husband hath a hundred times
Woo'd me to ſteale it: But ſhe do loves the Token,
(For he conjur'd her, ſhe should ever keep it)
That ſhe reserves it evermore about her,
To kiffe, and talke to. I'le have the work tane out,
And giv't Iago : what he will doe with it
Heaven knowes, not I :
I nothing, but to pleafe his Fantafie.

Enter Iago.

Iago. How now? what does you here alone ?

Æmil. Doe not you chide : I have a thing for you.

Iago. You have a thing for me?

It is a common thing------

Æmil. Hah ?

Iago. To have a foolish wife.

Æmil. Oh, is that all ? what will you give me now
For that fame Handkerchiffe ?

Iago. What Handkerchiffe ?

Æmil. What Handkerchiffe ?

Why that the Moore firſt gave to Defdemona,
That which ſo often you did bid me ſteale.

Iago. Haſt ſtoln it from her ?

Æmil. No : but ſhe let it drop by negligence,
And to th'advantage, I being here, took't up :
Look, here 'tis.

Iago. A good wench, give it me.

Æmil. What will you doe with't, you have been ſo
earned to have me filch it ?

Iago. Why, what is that to you ?

Æmil. If it be not for ſome purpose of import,
Giv't me again. Poor Lady, ſhe'll run mad
When ſhe shall lack it.

Iago. Be not acknowledged on't :

I have uſe for it. Go, leave me,
I will in Caffio's Lodging loofe this Napkin,
And let him finde it. Trifles light as aire
Are to the jealous, confirmations strong,
As proofs of holy Writ. This may do ſomething.
The Moore already changes with my poyfons :
Dangerous conceits, are in their natures poyfons,
Which at the firſt are ſcarce found to diſtaſſe :
But with a little act upon the blood,

Enter Othello.

Look where he comes : Not Poppy nor Mandragora,
Nor all the drowſe Syrrups of the world,
Shall ever medicine thee to that ſweet ſleep.
Which thou ow'dt yeſterday.

Oth. Ha, ha, falſe to me ?

Iago. Why how now, Generall ? no more of that.

Oth. Avant, be gone : thou haſt let me on the Rack :
I ſwear 'tis better to be much abus'd,
Then but to know a little.

Iago. How now, my Lord ?

Oth. What ſent had I, in her ſtoln hours of Luft ?
I ſaw't not, thought it not : it harm'd not me :

I ſlept the next night well, fed well, was free, and merry.
I found not Caffio's kiffes on her Lips :

He that is robb'd, not wanting what is ſtoln,
Let him not know't, and he's not robb'd at all.

Iago. I am forry to hear this ?

Oth. I had been happy if the generall Camp,
Pioneers and all, had taſted her ſweet Body,
So I had nothing known. Oh now, for ever
Farewell the Tranquill minde ; farewell Content ;
Farewell the plumed Troops, and the big Warres,
That make Ambition Virtue ! Oh farewell,
Farewell the neighing Steed, and the thrill Trump,
The Spirit-stirring Drum, th' Eare-piercing Fife,
The Royall Banner, and all Quality,

Pride, Pomp and Circumſtance of glorious Warre:
And O you morall Engines, whoſe rude throats
Th'immortall Jove's dread Clamours couterfeit,
Farewell : Othello's Occupation's gone.

Iago. Is't poffible, my Lord ?

Oth. Villain, be ſure thou prove my Love a Whore :
Be ſure of it: Give me the Ocular proof,

Y y 3

The Tragedy of Othello

804

Or by the worth of mine eternal Soule,
Thou hadst bin better have bin born a Dog
Then anfwer my wak'd wrath.

Iago. Is't come to this?

Oth. Make me to fee't: or (at the leaft) to prove it,
That the probation bear no Hindge, nor Loop,
To hang a doubt on: Or woe upon thy life.

Iago. My Noble Lord.

Oth. If thou doft flander her, and torture me,
Never pray more: a abandon all remorfe
On horrors head, horrors accumulate,
Doe deeds to make heaven weep, all earth amaz'd;
For nothing can't thou to damnation adde,
Greater then that.

Iago. O Grace ! O heaven forgive me !
Are you a man ? have you a foule ? or fenfe ?
God buy you : take mine Office. Oh wretched Foole,
That lov'd to make thine honefty a vice !
Oh monftrous world ! Take note, take note (O World)
To be direct and honest, is not fafe.

I thank you for this profit, and from hence
I'le love no friend, fith love breeds fuch offence.

Oth. Nay flay : thou shouldft be honest.

Iago. I should be wife, for honeſty's a Foole,
And loſes that it works for.

Oth. By the world,

I think my Wife is honest, and think ſhe is not :
I think that thou art juſt, and think thou art not :
I'le have ſome proof. My name that was as freſh
As Dians Viſage, is now begrim'd and black
As mine own face. If there be Cords or Knives,
Poyſon, or Fire, or ſuffocating ſtreames.

I'le not endure it. Would I were ſatisfied,

Iago. I fee you are eaten up with paffion :
I doe repent me that I put it to you,
You would be ſatified ?

Oth. Would! Nay, and I will.

Iago. And may : but now? how ſatisfied, my Lord ?
Would you the ſuper-vifion groſſely gape on ?
Behold her topp'd ?

Oth. Death, and damnation. Oh !

Iago. It were a tedious difficulty I think,
To bring to that profect : Damn them then,
If ever mortall eyes doe ſee them boulſter

More then their own. What then ? how then ?
What ſhall I ſay ? Where's ſatisfaction ?
It is impoffible you should ſee this,

Were they as prime as Goats, as hot as Monkies,
As falt as Wolves in pride, and Fooles as groſſe
As Ignorance, made drunk. But yer, I ſay,
If imputation and ſtrong circumſtances,
Which lead directly to the door of truth,
VWill give you ſatification, you might have't.

Oth. Give me a living reafon ſhe's difſloyall.

Iago. I do not like the Office ;
But ſith I am entred in this caufe ſo farre
(Prick'd to't by foolifh Honefty, and Love)
I will go on. I lay with Caffio lately,
And being troubled with a raging tooth,
I could not ſleep. There are a kind of men,
So loofe of Soule, that in their ſleeps will mutter
Their Affaires: one of this kinde is Caffio :

In ſleep I heard him ſay, ſweet Desdemona,
Let us be wary, let us hide our Loves,
And then (Sir) would he gripe, and wring my hand :
Cry, oh ſweet Creature : then kiffe me hard,

As if he pluckt up kiffes by the roots,
That grew upon my lips, laid his Leg o're my Thigh,
And ſigh and kiffe, and then cry curſed Fate,
That gave 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 hrewde doubt, though it be but a Dreame.

Iago. And this may help to thicken other proofs,
That doe demonſtrate thinly.

Oth. I'le teare her all to pieces.

Iago. Nay yet be wife ; yet we fee nothing done,
She may be honest yet : Tell me but this,
Have you not fometimes feen a Handkerchiffe
Spotted with Straw-berries, in your Wives hand ?

Oth. I gave her fuch a one : was my first gift.

Iago. I know not that : but fuch a Handkerchiffe
I am ſure it was your Wives) did I to day
See Caffio wipe his Beard with.

Caffio. If it be that.

Iago. If it be that, or any, if'twas hers,
It speaks againſt her with the other proofs.

Oth. O that the ſlave had forty thouſand lives :
One is too poor, too weak for my revenge.
Now doe I fee 'tis true. Look here, Iago,

All my fond love thus doe I blow to heaven. 'Tis gone,
Ariſe black vengeance from the hoilow hell,
Yield up (O Love) thy Crown and hearted Thrope
To tyrannous Hate. Swell boſome with thy fraught,
For 'tis of Aſpicks tongues.

Iago. Yet be content.

Oth. Oh blood, blood, blood.

Iago. Patience I ſay : your minde may change.

Oth. Never, Iago. Like to the Pontick, Sea,
Whofe Iſie Current, and compulſive Courſe,
Ne're keeps retiring ebbe, but keeps due on
To the Propontick, and the Hellepfont :
Even ſo my bloody thoughts, with violent pace
Shall ne're look back, ne're ebbe to humble Love,
Till that a capable, and wide Revenge
Swallow them up. Now by yond Marble Heaven,
In the due reverence of a Sacred vow,
I here engage my words------

Iago. Doe not rife yet :

Witneſſe you ever-burning Lights above,
You Elements, that clip us round about.

Witneſſe that here Iago doth give up
The execution of his wit, hands, heart,
To wrong'd Othello's Service. Let him command,
And to obey ſhall be in me remorſe,
What bloody buſineſſe ever.

Oth. I greet thy love,
Not with vain thanks, but with acceptance bountious,
And will upon the instant put thee to't.
Within theſe three dayes let me hear thee ſay,
That Caffio's not alive.

Iago. My friend is dead:
'Tis done at your requeſt.
But let her live.

Oth. Damn her lewde Minx :
O damn her, damn her.
Come go with me apart, I will withdraw
To furnish me with ſome ſwift meanes of death
For the fair Devil.

Now art thou my Lieutenant.

Iago. I am your own for ever.

Exeunt.
Scena.

The Tragedy of Othello

806

Def. How now, (good Caffio) what's the newes with you ?

Caffio. Madam, my former fuit. I doe befeech you, That by your virtuous meanes, I may again Exit, and be a member of his love, Whom I, with all the Office of my heart Intirely honour, I would not be: delay'd. If my offence be of luch mortall kinde, That not my Service paft, nor prefent Sorrowes, Nor purpos'd merit in futurity, Can ransome me into his love again, But to know so, muft be my benefit : So shall I cloathe me in a forc'd content, And flut my felf up in some other courfe To Fortunes Almes.

Def. Alafs (thrice-gentle Caffio)

My Advocation is not now in tune ;
My Lord, is not my Lord ; nor should I know him,
Were he in favour, as in humour alterd.
So help me every fpirit ſanctified,
As I have ſpoken for you all my beſt,
And flood within the blank of his diſpleaſure
For my free ( speech.) You muſt a while be patient :
What I can doe, I will : and more I will
Then for my ſelf I dare. Let that ſuffice you,
Iago. Is my Lord angry ?

Aemil. He went hence but now :
And certainly in ſtrange unquietneſſe.

Iago. Can he be angry? I have feen the Cannon,
When it hath blown his Ranks into the aire,
And like the Devil from his very Arme
Puſt his own Brother : And is he angry ?

Something of moment then ; I will go meet him,
There's matter in't indeed, if he be angry,
Def.

I. I prethee doe so. Something ſure of State,
Either from Venice, or ſome unhatch'd practice,
Made demonſtrable here in Cyprus, to him,
Hath pudled his clear Spirit : and in ſuch cafes,
Mens Natures wrangle with inferiour things,
Though great ones are their object. 'Tis even so.
For let our finger ake, and it endues

Our other healthfull members, even to a ſenſe
Of pain. Nay, we muſt think men are not Gods,
Nor of them look for ſuch obſervance
As fits the Bridall. Beſhrew me much, Aemilia,
I was (unhandſome Warriour as I am)

Arraigning his unkindneſſe with my ſoule :
But now I finde, I had ſuborn'd the Witneſſe,
And he's Indited falſely.

Aemil. Pray heaven it be

State matters, as you think, and no Conception,
Nor no jealous toy concerning you.

Def. Alafs-the-day, I never gave him caufe.

Aemil. But Jealous ſoules will not be anſwer'd ſo ;
They are not ever jealous for the caufe,
But jealous, for they're jealous. It is a Monſter
Begot upon it ſelf, Born on it ſelf.

Def. Heaven keep the Monſter from Othello's minde.

Aemil. Lady, Amen.

Def. I will go feek him. Caffio, walk hereabout:
If I doe finde him fit, I'le move your ſuit,
And feek to effect it to my uttermoſt.
Caff.

I humbly thank your Ladifhip.

Enter Bianca.

Bian. Save you (Friend Caffio.)

Caffio. What make you from home ?

How is't with you, my moſt fair Bianca?

Indeed (sweet Love) I was comming to your house.

Bian. And I was going to your Lodging, Caffio.
What ? keep a week away ? Seven dayes, and nights ?
Eight ſcore eight houres ? And Loves abſent houres
More tedious then the Diall, eight ſcore times ?
Oh weary reek'ning.

Caffio. Pardon me, Bianca:

I have this while with leaden thoughts been preſt,
But I ſhall in a more continente time
Strike off this ſcore of abſence. Sweet Bianca,
Take me this work out,

Bianca. Oh Caffio, whence came this ?
This is ſome token from a newer Friend,
To the felt-abſence : now I feel a Caufe:
Is't come to this ? Well, well,

Caffio. Go to, woman :

Throw your vilde gueſſes in the Devils teeth,
From whence you have them. You are jealous now
That this is from ſome Miftris, ſome remembrance ;
No, in good troth, Bianca.

Bian. Why, whoſe is it ?

Caffio. I know not neither :

I found it in my Chamber,
I like the work well: Ere it be demanded

(As like enough it will) I would have it copped :
Take it, and do't, and leave me for this time.

Bian. Leave you ? wherefore ?

Caffio. I doe attend here on the Generall,
And think it no addition, nor my will
To have him fee me woman'd.

Bian. Why, I pray you ?

Caffio. Nor that I love you not.

Bian. But that you doe not love me,
I pray you bring me on the way a little,
And ſay, if I ſhall fee you ſoon at night ?

Caffio. 'Tis but a little way that I can bring you,
For I attend here, But I'le fee you ſoon.

Bian. 'Tis very good : I muſt be circumſtanc'd.

Exeunt omnes.

Actus Quartus. Scena Prima.

Enter Othello, and Iago.

Iago. Will you think fo ?

Oth. Think fo, Iago ?

Iago. What, to kiffle in private ?

Oth. An unauthoriz'd kiffie?

Iago. Or to be naked with her Friends in bed,

An houre, or more, not meaning any harme ?

Oth. Naked in bed (Iago) and not mean harme ?

It is hypocrifie againſt the Devil :
They that mean virtuouſly. and yet do so,

The Devil their virtue tempts, and they tempt Heaven.

Iago. If they do nothing, 'tis a Veniall ſlip :

But I give my wife a Handkerchiffe.

Oth. What then ?

Iago. Why then 'tis hers (my Lord) and being hers,
She may (I think) beſtow't on any man,

Oth. She is Proteſtreſſe of her honour too :
May I the give that?

Iago.

The Moore of Venice.

807

Iago. Her Honour is an Efence that's not teen,
They have it very oft that have it not.
But for the Handkerchiffe.

Orb. By heaven I would moft gladly have forgot it :
Thou laidt (oh, it comes o're my memory,
As doth the Raven o're the infectious houfe :
Boading to all) he had my Handkerchiffe.

Iago. I : what of that ?
Orb. That's not so good now :
Iago. What if I had laid, I had seen him do you wrong?
Or hear him say, as Knaves be such abroad,
Who having by their own importunate suit,
Or voluntary detage of some Miftris,
Convinced or suppli'd them cannot chufe
But they muft blab.

Orb. Hath he faid any thing ?

Iago. He hath (my Lord) but be you well affui'd,
No more then he'll unwear.

Orb. What hath he faid ?

Iago. Why, that he did : I know not what he did.

Orb. What ? what ?

Iago. Lye.

Orb. With her ?

Iago. With her ? on her : what you will.

Oth. Lie with her ? lie on her ? we say, lie on her,
when they be-lye her. Lie with her ? that's fulsome:
Handkerchiffe : Confessions : Handkerchiffe. To con-
fefſe, and be hang'd for his labour. Firſt, to be hang'd,
and then to confefſe : I tremble at it. Nature would not
inveſt her ſelf in ſuch ſhadowing paffion, without ſome
inſtruction. It is not words that ſhakes me thus, (pith)
Nofes, Eares, and Lips : is't poffible. Conſeſſe ? Hand-
kerchiffe ? O Devil.

Falls in a Traunce.

Iago. Work on,

My Medicine works. Thus credulous Fooles are caught,
And many worthy, and chaſſe Dames even thus
(All guiltleſſe) meet reproach : what hoa ? My Lord ?
My Lord, I ſay Othello.

Enteo Caffio.

How now, Caffio ?

Caf. What's the matter ?

Iago. My Lord is faln into an Epileſſe,

This is his ſecond Fit : he had one yefterday.

Caf. Rub him about the Temples.

Iago. The Lethargy muſt have his quiuer courfe :
If not, he foames at mouth: and by and by
Breaks out to savage madneſſe: Look, he ſtirres :
Doe you withdraw your ſelf a little while,
He will recover ſtraight : when he is gone,
I would on great occafion, ſpeak with you.

How is it Generall ? Have you not hurt your hand ?

Orb. Doſt thou mock me ?

Iago. I mock you not, by Heaven :
Would you would bear your Fortune like a Man.

Orb. A Horned man's a Monster and a Beaſt.

Iago. There's many a Beaſt then in a populous City,
And many a civil Monſter,

Orb. Did he confeſſe it ?

Iago. Good Sir, be a man :
Think every bearded fellow that's but yoak'd
May draw with you. There's millions now alive,

That nightly lie in thofe unproper beds,
Which they dare ſwear peculiar. Your cauſe is better.
Oh, 'tis the ſpight of hell, the Fiends Arch-mock,
To lip a wanton in a ſecre Cowch ;

And to fuppòre her chaſſe, No, let me know,
And knowing what I am, I know what ſhe ſhall be.
Orb. Oh, thou art wife : 'tis certain.

Iago. Stand you a while apart,
Confine your ſelf but in a patient Lift,
Whil't you were here, o're-whelmed with your grief
(A paffion moſt reſulting ſuch a man)

Caffio came hither, I ſhifted him away,
And laid good ſcufes on your Extaſſe,
Bad him anon return, and here ſpeak with me,
The which he promis'd. Doe but encave your ſelf,
And marke the Fleeres, the Gybes and notable Scorns,
That dwell in every Region of his face.

For I will make him tell the tale anew :
Where, how, how oſe, how long ago, and when
He hath, and is again to cope your wife.
I ſay, but marke his geſture : marry Patience,
Or I ſhall ſay y'are all in all in Spleen,
And' nothing of a man.

Orb. Doſt thou hear, Iago,
I will be found moſt cunning in my Patience :
But (doſt thou hear) moſt bloody.

Iago. That's not amifle.
But yet keep time in all : will you withdraw ?
Now will I queſtion Caffio of Bianca,
A Hufwife, that by ſelling her defires,
Buyes her ſelf Bread and Cloth. It is a Creature
That dotes on Caffio, (as 'tis the Scrumpets plague
To beguile many, and be beguil'd by one)
He, when he heares of her, cannot reſtrain

From the exceſſe of Laughter. Here he comes,

Enter Caffio.

As he ſhall ſmile, Othello ſhall go mad :
And his unbookiſh Jealousy muſt confere,

Poor Caffio's ſmiles, geſtures and light behaviours
Quite in the wrong. How doe you, Lieutenant ?

Caf. The worſer, that you gave me the addition,
Whole want even kills me.

Iago. Ply Defdemona well, and you are ſure on't :
Now, if this Sute lay in Bianca's dowre,
How quickly ſhould you ſpeed ?

Caf. Alafs, poor Caitiffe.

Orb. Look how he laughs already.

Iago. I never knew woman love man fo.

Caf. Alafs, poor Rogue, I think indeed he loves me.

Orb. Now he denies it faintly : and laughs it out,

Iago. Doe you hear, Caffio ?

Orb. Now he importunes him

To tell it o're : go to, well faid, well ſaid,

Iago. She gives it out, that you ſhall marry her.

Doe you intend it ?

Caf. Ha, ha, ha.

Orb. Doe ye triumph, Roman ? doe you triumph ?

Caf. I marry. What ? a cuſtomer; prethee bear

Some Chariſt to my wit, doe not think it
So unwholſome. Ha, ha, ha.

Orb. So, fo: they laugh, that winnes.

Iago. Why, the cry goes, that you ſhall marry her.

Caf. Prethee ſay true.

Iago. I am a very Villain elfe.

Orb. Have you ſcoar'd me ; well.

Caf. This is the Monkies own giving out :

She is perſwaded I will marry her

Out of her own love & ſlattery, not out of my prouſe.

Othea

The Moore of Venice.

809

Othe. Miftris.
Def. My Lord.
Othe. What would you with her, Sir ?
Lod. VWho I, my Lord ?
Othe. I, you did with that I would make her turn :
Sir, she can turn, and turn : and yet go on
And turn again. And she can weep, Sir, weep.
And she's obedient : as you say obedient.
Very obedient: proceed you in your teares,
Concerning this, Sir, (oh well painted paffion)
I am commanded home : get you away :
I'le fend for you anon. Sir, I obey the Mandate.
And will return to Venice. Hence, avant :
Caffio shall have my Place. And, Sir, to night
I do entreat, that we may fup together.
You are welcome, Sir, to Cyprus.
Goats and Monkjes. Exit.

Lod. Is this the Noble Moore, whom our full Senate
Call all in all sufficient ? Is this the Nature
VVhom Paffion could not fhape ? whofe solid virtue
The fhot of Accident, nor dart of Chance
Could neither graze, nor pierce ?
Iago. He is much chang'd.

Lod. Are his wits fafe ? is he not of light Brain ?

Iago. He's that he is : I may not breathe my cenfure.
VVhat he might be : if what he might, he is not,
I would to heaven he were.

Lod. VVhat, ftrike his wife ?

Iago. 'Faith that was not so well ; yet would I knew
That froake would prove the worft.
Lod. Is it his ufe ?

Or did the Letters work upon his blood,

And new create his fault ?

Iago. Alafs, alafs :

It is not honefty in me to speak:

VVhat I have feen and known. You ſhall obſerve him,

And his own courſes will denote him ſo,

That I may ſave my ſpeech : do but go after

And mark how he continues.

Lo. I am forry that I am deceiv'd in him.

Exeunt.

## Scena Secunda.

Enter Othello, and Œmilia.

Othe. You have been nothing then ?

Emil. Nor ever heard : nor ever did ſupſect.

Othe. Yes, you have been Caffio and the together.

Emil. But then I faw no harme : and then I heard
Each ſyllable that breath made up between them.

Othe. VVhat ? Did they never whisper ?

Emil. Never, my Lord.

Othe. Nor fend you out oth' way ?

Emil. Never.

Othe. To fetch her Fan, her Gloves, her Mask, nor
Emil. Never, my Lord.

Othe. That's ſtrange.

Emil. I durſt (my Lord) to wager ſhe is honest,
Lay down my Soule at ſtake: If you think other,

Remove your thought. It doth abufe your boſome,
If any wretch hath put this in your head,

Let heaven requite it with the Serpents curſe,

For if the be not honest, chafte, and true,
There's no man happy, the pureſt of their Wives
Is foul as Slander.

Othe. Bid her come hither: go.

Exit Œmilia.

She faies enough: yet ſhe's a ſimple Baud

That cannot ſay as much. This is a flubtle Whore :

A Cloſet Lock and Key of Villanous Secrets,

And yet ſhe'll kneel, and pray : I have been her do't.

Enter Defdemona, and Œmilia.

Def. My Lord, what is your will ?

Othe. Pray you Chuck come hither.

Def. What is your pleafure ?

Othe. Let me fee your eyes: look in my face.

Def. What horrible Fancie's this ?

Othe. Some of your Function, Miftris,
Leave Procreants alone, and flut the door :

Cough, or cry hem ; if any body come :

Your Mуſtery, your Mуſtery; Nay difpatch. Exit Œmi.

Def. Upon my knee, what doth your ſpeech import ?

I underſtand a Fury in your words,

Othe. Why ? What art thou ?

Def. Your wife my Lord : your true and loyal wife.

Othello. Come ſwear it : damne thy ſelf, being like
one of Heaven, the devills themefelvcs ſhould fear to
ceife thee. Therefore be double damn'd : ſwear thou art
honest.

Def. Heaven doth truly know it.

Othe. Heaven truly knows, , that thou art falſe as hell.

Def. To whom, my Lord ?

With whom ? How am I falſe ?

Othe. Ah Dſdemon, away, away, away.

Def. Alas the heavy day: why do you weep ?

Am I the motive of theſe tears, my Lord ?

If happily you my Father do ſupſpect,

An Inſtrument of this your calling back,

Lay not your blame on me : if you have loft him,
I have loft him too.

Othe. Had it pleas'd Heaven,

To try me with Affliction, had they rain'd

All kind of foreſ, and ſhames on my bare-head;

Steep'd me in poverty to the very lps.

Given to Captivity, me and my utmoſt hopes,

I should have found in ſome place of my foul

A drop of patience. But alas, to make me

The fixed Figure for the time of Scorn,

To point his flow, and moving finger at.

Yet could I bear that too, well, very well :

But there where I have garnerd up my heart,

Where either I muſt live, or bear no life,

The fountain from the which my currant runs,

Or eſſe dries up : to be diſearded thence,

Or keep it as a Ceſtern, for foul Toads

To knot and gender in. Turn thy complexion there :

Patience, thou young and roſe-lipp'd Cherubin,

I here look grim as hell.

Def. I hope my Lord eſteems me honest.

Othe. O I, as Sommer Flies are in the Shambles,

That quicken even with blowing. Oh thou weed :

Who art so lovely fair, and ſmell it so ſweet,

That the Sence asks at thee,

Would thad'ft never been born.

Def. Alas, what ignorant fin have I committed ?

Othe. Was this fair Paper ? this moſt goodly Book
Made to write Whore upon ? What committed,

Com

810

The Tragedy of Othello

Committed ? Oh, thou publick Commoner,
I should make very Forges of my Checks,
That would to Cynders burn up Modefty,
Did but I speak thy deeds. What committed ?
Heaven flops the Noſe at it, and the Moon winks :

The bawdy wind that kiffes all it meets,
Is huff'd within the hollow Myne of Earth
And will not hear't. What committed ?

Def. By Heaven you doe me wrong.

Othe. Are not you a Strumpet?

Def. No, as I am a Christian.

If to prefer this Veffell for my Lord,
From any other foule unlawfull touch
Be not to be a Strumpet, I am none,

Othe. What, not a Whore ?

Def. No, as I shall be fav'd.

Othe. Is't poffible ?

Def. Oh Heaven forgive us.

Othe. I cry you mercy then.

I took you for that cunning Whore of Venice,
That married with Othello, You Miltris,
Enter Œmilia.

That have the Office opposite to Saint Peter,
And keeps the gate of hell. You, you: I you.

We have done our courfe: there's money for your pains :

I pray you turn the key and keep our counſit. Exit.

Œmil. Alas, what do's this Gentleman conceive ?

How doe you, Madam ? how doe you, my good Lady ?

Def. Faith, half a fleep.

A mi. Good Madam,

What's the matter with my Lord ?

Def. With whom ?

A mi. Why, with my Lord, Madam ?

Def. Who is thy Lord ?

A mil. He that is yours, sweet Lady.

Def. I have none: doe not talk to me, Œmilia,
I cannot weep: nor anſwers have I none,
But that should go by water. Prethee to night,
Lay on my bed my wedding ſheets, remember,
And call thy Husband hither.

A mil. Here's a change indeed.

Def. 'Tis meet I should be us'd so: very meet.

How have I bin behav'd, that he might ſtick

The ſmall'ft opinion on my leaſt miſufe ?

Enter Iago, and Œmilia.

Iago. What is your pleasure, Madam ?

How is't with you ?

Def. I cannot tell: thofe that doe teach your Babes

Doe it with gentle meanes, and eafe tasks.

He might have chid me to ſo: for in good faith

I am a Child to chiding.

Iago. What is the matter, Lady ?

A mil. Alas! (Iago) my Lord, hath ſo behaw'd her,
Thrown ſuch deſpight, and heavy terms upon her,
That true hearts cannot bear it.

Def. Am I that name, Iago ?

Iago. What name (fair Lady)?

Def. Such as he faid my Lord did ſay I was.

A mil. He call'd her whom: a Beggar in his drink,
Could not have laid ſuch terms upon his Callet.

Iago. Why did he ſo ?

Def. I doe not know: I am ſure I am none ſuch.

Iago. Doe not weep, doe not weep: alaſs-the-day.

A mil. Hath the forſook ſo many Noble Matches ?
Her Father ? and her Countrie ? and her Friends ?

To be call'd Whore ? would it not make one weep ?

Def. It is my wretched Fortune.

Iago. Beſhrew him for't:

How comes this trick upon him ?

Def. Nay, heaven doth know.

A mi. I will be hang'd, if fome eternall Villain,
Some buſie and inſinuating Rogue,
Some cogging, cozening Slave, to get ſome ſOffice,
Has not devis'd this Slander: I will be hang'd else.

Iago. Fie, there is no ſuch man : it is impoffible.

Def. If any ſuch there be, heaven pardon him.

A mil. A halter pardon him :
And hell gnaw his bones.

Why should he call her Whore ?

Who keeps her company ?

What Place ? what Time ?

What Form ? what Likelihood ?

The Moore's abus'd by ſome moſt villanous Knave,
Some bafe notorious Knave, ſome ſcurvy Fellow.
Oh heavens, that ſuch companions thoud'ſt unfold,
And put in every honeſt hand a whip
To laſh the Rafter call naked through the world,
Even from the Eaſt to th' Weſt.

Iago. Speak within door.

A mil. O ſhe upon them: ſome ſuch ſquire he was
That ſhould your wit, the ſcamy ſide without,
And made you to ſuſpect me with the Moore.

Iago. You are a Foeſe: go to.

Def. Alas, Iago.

What ſhall I do to win my Lord again ?

Good Friend, go to him : for by this light of Heaven,

I know not how I loſt. Here I kneele :

If e're my will did treſpaffe 'gainſt his Love,
Either in diſcourſe of thought, or actual deed,
Or that mine Eyes, mine Ears, or any Sence
Delighted them : or any other Form :

Or that I do not yet, and ever did,

And ever will, (though he ſhake me off

To beggerly divorcement) Love him dearly,

Comfort forſwear me. Unkindneſſe may do much,
And his unkindneſſe may defeat my life,
But never taint my Love. I cannot ſay Whore,

It doth abhorre me now I speak the word,

To do the Act, that might the addition earn,

Not the worlds Maſſe of vanity could make me.

Iago. I pray you be content: 'us but his humour :
The buſineſſe of the State do's him offence.

Def. If 'twere no other.

Iago. It is but ſo, I warrant:

Heark how theſe Inſtruments ſummon to ſupper :

The Meſtenger of Venice ſtayes the Meat ;

Go in, and weep not: all things ſhall be well.

Exeunt Desdemona and Œmilia.

Enter Rodorigo.

How now, Rodorigo ?

Rod. I do not finde.

That thou deal'ſt juſtly with me.

Iago. What in the contrary ?

Rod. Every day thou doſes me with ſome device, Iago,
and rather as it seems to me now, keep'ſt from me all
conveniency, then ſupplies me with the leaſt advantage
of hope: I will indeed no longer endure it. Nor am I yet
perſwaded to put up in peace, what already I have fool-
ſhly ſuffer'd.

Iago. Will you hear me, Rodorigo ?

Rod.

the Moor of Venice.

811

Rodo. I have heard too much: and your words and performances are no kin together.

Iago. You charge me molt unjustly.

Rodo. With naught but truth: I have wafted my self out of my meanes. The Jewels you have had from me to deliver Defdemona, would half have corrupted a Votarist. You have told me she hath receiv'd them, and return'd me expectations and comforts of sudden reſpect, and acquaintance, but I find none.

Iago. Well, go to: very well.

Rodo. Very well, go to: I cannot go to, (man) nor 'tis not very well: nay, I think it is ſcurly: and begin to find my ſelf foſt in it.

Iago. Very well.

Rodo. I tell you, 'tis not very well: I will make my ſelf known to Defdemona. If she will return me my Jewels, I will give over my ſuits, and repent my unlawful ſolicitation. If not, affure your ſelf, I will feek ſatisfaction of you.

Iago. You have faid now.

Rod. I, and faid nothing but what I proteſt intendment of doing.

Iago. Why, now I fee there's mettle in thee: and even from this inſtant doe build on thee a better opinion then ever before: give me thy hand Roderigo. Thou haſt taken againſt me a molt juſt exception: but yet I proteſt I have dealt molt directly in thy Aſſaire.

Rod. It hath not appear'd:

Iago. I grant indeed it hath not appear'd: and your ſupſition is not without wit and judgement. But, Roderigo, if thou haſt that in thee indeed, which I have greater reaſon to believe now then ever (I mean purpote, Contrage, and Valour) this night ſhew it. If thou the next night following enjoy not Defdemona, take me from this world with Treachery, and devife Engines for my life.

Rod. Well: what is it? Is it within reaſon and compiece?

Iago. Sir, there is eſpeciall Commission come from Venice to depute Caffio in Othello's place.

Rod. Is that true? Why then Othello and Defdemona, return again to Venice.

Iago. Oh no: he goes into Mauritania, and taketh away with him the fair Defdemona, unleſſe his abode be lingred here by ſome accident. Wherein none can be to determine, as the removing of Caffio.

Rod. How doe you mean removing him ?

Iago. Why, by making him uncapable of Othello's place: knocking out his brains.

Rod. And that you would have me to doe.

Iago. I: if you dare doe your ſelf a profit, and a right. He fups to night with a Harlorry: and thither will I go to him. He knowes not yet of his honourable fortune, if you will watch his going thence (which I will fashion to fall out between twelve and one) you may take him at your pleasure. I will be near to ſecond your Attempt, and he ſhall fall betwen us. Come, ſtand not amaz'd at it, but go along with me: I will ſhow you ſuch a neceſſity in his death, that you ſhall think your ſelf bound to put it on him. It is now high ſupper time: and the night growes to waſte. About it.

Rod. I will hear further reaſon for this.

Iago. And you ſhall be ſatisfied,

Exeunt.

## Scena Tertia.

Enter Othello, Lodovico, Defmona, Amilia and Attendats.

Lod. I do beſeech you, fir, trouſe your ſelf no further.

Orhe. Oh pardon: 'twill do me good to walk.

Lod. Madam, good night! I humbly thank your Ladi.

Def. Your honour is molt welcome.

Orhe. Will you walk fir? Oh Defdemona.

Def. My Lord.

Orhe. Get you to bed on th'inſtant, I will be return'd forthwith: diſmiffle your Attendant there: look't be done.

Def. I will, my Lord.

Ami. How goes it now? he looks genderl then he did.

Def. He fays he will return incontinent,

And hath commanded me to go to bed,

And bid me to diſmiffle you.

Amil. Diſmiffle me?

Def. It was his bidding: therefore good Amilia, Give me my nightly wearing, and adieu.

We muſt not now diſpleafe him.

Amil. I would you had never ſeen him.

Def. So would not I: my love doth ſo approve him, That even his ſtubborneſs, his checks, his frowns, (Prithee un-pin me) have grace and favour.

Ami. I have laid theſe fleets you bad me on the bed.

Def. All's one: good Father, how foolish are our minds? I do die before thee, prithee ſhowd me

In one of theſe fame fleets.

Amil. Come, come: you talk.

Def. My Mother had a Maid call'd Barbara, She was in love: and he ſhe lov'd prov'd mad, And did forſake her. She had a Song of Willow, An old thing: 'twas: but it expreſſ'd her Fortune,

And he dy'd ſinging it. That ſong to night,

Will not go from my mind: I have much to do,

But to go hang my head all at one ſide

And ſing it like poor Barbara: prithee diſpatch.

Amil. I ſhall I go fetch your Night-gown?

Def. No, unpin me here,

This Lodovico is a proper man.

Amil. A very handſome man.

Def. He ſpeaks well.

Amil. I know a Lady in Venice would have walk'd bare-foot to Paleſtine for a touch of his nether lip.

Def. The poor Soul ſat ſinging, by a Sicamore tree.

Sing all a green Willough.

Her hand on her boſome, her head on her knee,

Sing Willough, Willough, Willough.

The fresh ſtreams ran by her, and murmur'd her moans

Sing Willough, &c.

Her ſalt tears ſell from her, and ſoftned the ſlones,

Sing willow, &c.

(Lady by the ſe)

Willough, Willough. (Prithee high thee, he'll come anon)

Sing all a green Willough muſt be my Garland.

Let no body blame him, his ſcorn I approve.

(Nay that's not next. Hark who is't that knocks?

Amil. It's the wind.

Def. I call it my Love ſalſe Love: but what ſaid he then?

Sing Willough, &c.

If I court no women, you'll couch with me men.

Zzz

So

The Tragedy of Othello

812

So get thee gone, good night: mine eyes do ich : Doth that load weeping ?

*Amil.* 'Tis neither here, nor there,

*Def.* I have heard it said fo, O thefe Men, thefe men! Daft thou in confidence think (tell me *Amilia*) That there be women do abuse their husbands In such groffe kind

*Amil.* There be some such, no queftion.

*Def.* Would'ft thou do such a deed for all the world :

*Amil.* Why, would not you ?

*Def.* No, by this heavenly light,

*Amil.* Nor I neither, by this heavenly light.

I might do't as well ith'dark.

*Def.* Would'ft thou do such a deed for all the world ?

*Amil.* The world's a huge thing:

It is a great price, for a full vice.

*Def.* In troth I think thou would'ft not.

*Amil.* In troth I think I should, and undo't when I had done, Marry, I would not do such a thing for a joynt Rring, nor for meaures of Lawn, nor for Gowns, Petticoats, nor Caps, nor any petty exhibition. But for all the whole world: why, who would not make her hus- band a Cuckold, to make him a Monarch ? I should ven- ture Purgatory for't.

*Def.* Bethrow me, if I would do such a wrong For the whole world.

*Amil.* Why, the wrong, is but a wrong ith'world; and having the world for your labour, 'tis a wrong in your own world, and you might quickly make it right.

*Def.* I do not think there is any such woman.

*Amil.* Yes, a dozen : and as many to th'vantage, as would flore the world they plaid for.

But I do think it is their husbands faults

If Wives do fall: (Say, that they flack their duties, And pour our treasures into forraign laps ;

Or else break out in peevish Jealousies,

Throwing reftraint upon us: Or say they strike us, Or fiant our former having in defpight)

Why we have galls: and though we have fonic Grace, Yet have we fome Revenge. Let husbands know, Their wives have fenfe like them: They fee and smell, And have their Palats both for sweet and fowre,

As husbands have, What is it that they do

When they change us for others ? Is it ſport ?

I think it is: and doth affection breed it ?

I think it doth: Is't frailty that thus erres ?

It is ſo too. And have not we affections ?

Defies for ſport ? and frailty as men have?

Then let them uſe us well; else let them know, The ills we do, their ills inſtruct us to.

*Def.* Good night, good night :

Heaven me fuch uſes ſend,

Not to pick bad, from bad; but by bad, mend.

Exeunt.

*Enter Iago, and Redorigo.*

*Iago.* Here, ſtand behind this Bark, Straight will he come:

Wear thy good Rapier bare, and put it home:

Quick, quick, fear nothing; I'll be at thy Elbow, It makes us, or it marrs us, think on that,

And fix moſt firm thy Refolufion ;

*Rod.* Be near at hand, I may miſcarry in't.

*Iago.* Here, at thy hand: Behold, and take thy ſtand.

*Rod.* I have no great devotion to the deed,

And yet he hath given me fatſatisfing Reafons :

*Tis but a man gone. Forth my Sword: he dies.*

*Iago.* I have rub'd this young Quat almost to the fenſe, And he growes angry. Now, whether he kill *Caffio*, Or *Caffio* him, or each do kill the other,

Every way makes my gain. Live *Rodorigo*,

He calls me to a reſtitution large

Of Gold, and Jewels, that I bob'd from him, As gifts to *Defdemona*.

It muſt not be: if *Caffio* do remain,

He hath a daily beauty in his life,

That makes me ugly: and befides, the *Moor*.

May unfold me to him: there ſtand I in much perill: No, he muſt die. But fo, I hear him coming.

*Enter Caffio.*

*Rod.* I know his gate, 'tis he: Villain thou dyſt.

*Caff.* That thrust had been mine enemy indeed,

But that my Coat is better then thou know'ſt : I will make proof of thine.

*Rod.* Oh, I am flain.

*Caff.* I am maim'd for ever :

Help hoa: Murther, murther.

*Enter Othello.*

*Otho.* The voice of *Caffio*, *Iago* keeps his word.

*Rod.* O Villain that I am.

*Oth.* It is even fo.

*Caff.* Oh help hoa: Light, a Surgeon.

*Otho.* 'Tis he: O brave *Iago*, honest, and juſt,

That haſt such Noble fenſe of thy friends wrongs,

Thou teacheſt me. Minion, thy dear lies dead,

And your unbleſt Fate highes: Strumpet I come :

For off my heart, that ſhade Charmes thine Eyes, are blotted.

Thy Bed-left-stain'd, ſhall with Luſts bloud be ſpotted.

*Exit Othello.*

*Ecter Lodovico, and Gratiano.*

*Caff.* What hoa? no Watch ? no paſſage ?

Murther, Murther.

*Gra.* 'Tis fome miſchance, the voice is very direfull.

*Caff.* Oh help.

*Lodo.* Hark,

*Rod.* Oh wretched Villain.

*Lodo.* Two or three groan. 'Tis heavy night ;

Theſe may be counterfeits: Let's think't unsafe

To come into the cry, without more help.

*Rod.* No body come: then ſhall I bleed to death.

*Enter Iago.*

*Lodo.* Hark,

*Gra.* Here's one comes in his ſhirt, with Light, and Weapons.

*Iago.* Who's there ?

Whofe noife is this that cryes out murther ?

*Lodo.* We do not know,

*Iago.* Do not you hear a cry ?

*Caff.* Here, here: for heaven ſake help me.

*Iago.* What's the matter ?

*Gra.* This is *Othello's* Ancient as I take it.

*Lodo.* The fame indeed, a very valiant Fellow.

*Iago.* What are you here, that cry ſo grievouſly ?

*Caff.* Iago ? Oh I am ſpoyl'd, undone by Villains:

Give me ſome help.

*Iago.* O me, Lieutenant ?

What Villains have done this ?

*Caff.* I think that one of them is hereabout,

And

the Moor of Venice.

813

And cannot make away.

Iago. Oh trecherous Villains:

What are you there? Come in, and give some help.

Rod. O help me there.

Caff. That's one of them.

Iago. Oh murd'rous Slave ! O Villain !

Rod. O damn'd Iago ! O inhumane Dog !

Iago. Kill men ith'dark?

Where be thefe bloody Thieves ?

How silent is this Town ? Hoa, murther murther.

What may you be ? Are you of good or evil?

Lod. As you shall prove us, praiseth us.

Iago. Signior Lodovico.

Lod. He, Sir.

Iago. I cry you mercy : here's Caffio hurt by Villains.

Gra. Caffio.

Iago. How is't, brother ?

Caf. My Leg is cut in two.

Iago. Marry heaven forbid :

Light Gentlemen, I'le bind 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 dear Caffio,

My sweet Caffio : Oh Caffio, Caffio, Caffio.

Iago. O notable Strumper. Caffio, may you sufpect

Who they should be, that have thus mangled you?

Caf. No.

Gra. I am forry to find you thus :

I have been to feek you.

Iago. Lend me a Garter. So :--------Oh for a Chair

To bear him easily hence.

Bian. Alas he faints. Oh Caffio, Caffio, Caffio.

Iago. Gentlemen all, I do sufpect this Traff

To be a party in this injury.

Patience a while, good Caffio. Come, come :

Lend me a Light : know we this face, or no ?

Alas my friend, and my dear Countryman

Roderigo ? No: Yes fure : Yea, 'tis Roderigo.

Gra. What, of Venice ?

Iago. Even he, Sir: did you know him?

Gra. Know him ? I.

Iago. Signior Gratiano ? I cry you your gentle pardon :

Thefe bloody accidents muft excuse my Manners,

That so neglected you.

Gra. I am glad to fee you.

Iago. How do you, Caffio ? Oh a Chair, a Chair.

Gra. Roderigo?

Iago. He, he, 'tis he :

Oh that's well faid, the Chair.

Some good man bear him carefully from hence,

I'le fetch the Generals Surgeon. For you, Miftris,

Save you your labour. He that lies flain here (Caffio)

Was my dear friend. What malice was between you?

Caf. None in the world : nor do I know the man ?

Iago. What look you pale? Oh bear him out oth'Aire.

Stay you good Gentlemen. Look you pale Miftris ?

Do you perceive the gaftneffe of her eye ?

Nay, if you fteare, we shall hear more anon.

Behold her well : I pray you look upon her :

Do you fee, Gentlemen ? Nay, guiltineffe will speak

Though tongues were out of ufe.

Aemil. Alas, what is the matter ?

What is the matter, husband.

Iago. Caffio hath here bin fet on in the dark

By Rodorigo, and Fellows that are leap'd :

He's almost flain, and Rodorigo quite dead.

Aemil. Alas good Gentleman: alas good Caffio.

Iago. This is the fruits of whoring. Prithee Aemilia,
Go know of Caffio where he fupt to night.

What do you shake at that ?

Bian. He fupt at my house, but I therefore shake not.

Iago. O did he fo? I charge you go with me.

Aemil. Oh fie upon thee, Strumper.

Bian. I am no Strumper, but of life as honest,
As you that thus abufe me.

Aemil. As I ? Fie upon thee.

Iago. Kind Gentlemen :

Let's go fee poor Caffio dreft.

Come Miftris, you muft tell's another Tale.

Aemilia, run you to the Citradell,

And tell my Lord and Lady, what hath hap'd:

Will you go on afore ? This is the night

That either makes me, or foredoes me quite,

Exeunt.

## Scena Secunda.

Enter Othello, and Defdemona in her bed.

Orb. It is the Caufe, it is the Caufe (my foul)

Let me not name it to you, you chafte Starrs,

It is the Caufe. Yet I'le not fbed her cloud,

Nor fear that whiter skin of hers then Snow,

And fmooth as Monumental Alablatter:

Yet the muft die, elfe ſhe'll betray more men :

Put out the Light, and then put out the Light:

If I quench thee, thou flaming Minifter,

I can again thy former light restore,

Should I repent me, But once put out thy light,

Thou cunning'ft Pattern of excelling Nature,

I know not where is that Promethean heat

That can thy Light re-Lume.

When I have pluck'd thy Rofe,

I cannot give it vital growth again,

It needs muſt wither. I'le ſmell the on the tree :

Oh Balmy breath, that doſt almost perfwade

Juſtice to break her ſword. One more, one more;

Be thus when thou art dead, and I will kill thee,

And love thee after. One more, and that's the laſt.

So sweet, was ne're to fatal. I muſt weep,

But they are cruel tears: this forrows heavenly,

It strikes, where it doth love. She wakes.

Def. Who's there? Othello?

Othe. I, Defdemona.

Def. Will you come to bed, my Lord ?

Othe. Have you pray'd to night, Defdemona?

Def. I, my Lord.

Othe. If you bethink your ſelf of any Crime

Unreconcil'd as yet to heaven, and Grace,

Solicit for it ſtraight.

Def. Alack, my Lord,

What may you mean by that ?

Othe. Well, do it, and be brief, I will walk by ?

I would not kill thy unprepared ſpirit,

No, (Heavens fore-fend) I would not kill thy foul.

Def. Talk you of killing ?

Othe. I, I do.

Def. Then heaven have mercy on me.

Zzz 2

Othe.

the Moor of Venice.

815

Emil. My husband ?

Orb. Thy husband.

Emil. That he was falfe to Wedlock ;

Oth. I, with Caffio : had he bin true,

If heaven would make me such another world,
Of one entire and perfect Chrysolite,
I'd not have fold her for it.

Emil. My husband ?

Oth. I, 'twas he that told me on her firft,

An honest man he is, and hates the flime
That ficks on filthy deeds.

Emil. My husband ?

Oth. What needs this iterance, woman ?

I fay thy husband.

Emil. Oh Miftris,

Villany hath made mocks with love :

My husband fay he was falfe ?

Othe. He, woman ;

I fay thy husband: do'ft understand the word?

My friend, thy husband; honest, honest Iago.

Emil. If he fay so, may his pernicious foul
Rot half a grain a day: he lies to'th'heart,
She was too fond of her moft filthy Bargain.

Oth. Hah?

Emil. Do thy workt :

This deed of thine is no more worthy heaven,
Then thou waft worthy her.

Oth. Peace, you were beft.

Emil. Thou haft not halfe that power to do me harme
As I have to be hurt. Oh gull, oh dolt,

As ignorant as durt : thou haft done a deed
(I care not for thy sword) I'le make thee known,
Though I loft twenty lives, Help, help, hoa, help :
The Moor hath kill'd my Miftris. Murther, murther.

Enter Montano, Gratiano, and Iago.

Mon. What is the matter ? How now General ?

Emil. Oh, are you come, Iago : you have done well,
That men muft lay their Murthers on your neck.

Gra. What is the matter ?

Emil. Diſprove this Villain, if thou be'ft a man,
He fayes, thou told'ſt him that his wife was falfe :
I know thou did'ſt not : thour't not fuch a Villain,
Speak, for my heart is full.

Iago. I told him what I thought,

And told no more

Then what he found himſelf was apt, and true.

Emil. But did you ever tell him,

She was falfe ?

Iago. I did.

Emil. You told a Lie, an odious damned Lie :

Upon my foul, a Lye; a wicked Lie.

She falſe with Caffio ?

Did you fay with Caffia ?

Iago. With Caffio, Miftris,

Go to, charme your tongue.

Emil. I will not charme my tongue ;

I am bound to ſpeak,

My Miftris here lies murthered in her bed.

Alt. Oh heavens, foreſend.

Emil. And your reports have ſet the Murther on.

Oth. Nay ſare not Maſters,

It is true indeed.

Gra. 'Tis a ſtrange Truth,

Mont. O monſtrous Act.

Emil. Villany, villany, villany :

I think upon't, I think : I ſmelt : O Villany :

I thought fo then : I'le kill my ſelf for grief,
O villany ! villany ?

Iago. What, are you mad ?

I charge you get you home.

Emil. Good Gentlemen, let me have leave to ſpeak :

'Tis proper I obey him; but not now:

Perchance Iago, I will ne're go home.

Oth. Oh, oh, oh.

Emil. Nay, lay thee down and roar :
For thou haſt kil'd the ſweeteſt innocent,
That e're did lift up eye.

Oth. Oh he was foul !

I ſcarce did know you Uncle, there lies your Niece,
Whose breath (indeed) theſe hands have newly ſtopp'd :
I know this act ſhews horrible and grim,

Gra. Poor Deſdemona :

I am glad thy father's dead,
Thy Match was mortal to him; and pure grief
Shore his old thred in twain. Did he live now,
This fight would make him do a desperate turn:
Yea, curſe his better Angel from his ſide,
And fall to Reprobance.

Oth. 'Tis pittifull; but yet Iago knows,
That he with Caffio hath the act of ſhame
A thouſand times committed. Caffio confect it,
And he did gratifie his amorous works
With that Recognizance and pledge of Love
Which I firſt gave her : I faw it in his hand :
It was a Handkerchief, an Antick Token
My father gave my mother.

Emil. Oh heaven! oh heavenly Powers !
Iago. Come, hold your peace.

Emil. 'Twill out, 'Twill out, I ſpeak ;
No, I will ſpeak as liberal as the North,
Let heaven, and men, and devils, let them all,
All, all, cry ſhame againſt me, yet I'le ſpeak.

Iago. Be wife and get you home.

Emil. I will not.

Gra. Fie, your ſword upon a woman.

Emil. Oh thou dull Moor,

That Handkerchief thou ſpeak'ſt of
I found by fortune, and did give my husband,
For often, with a ſolelme carneſtneſſe,
( More then indeed belong'd to ſuch a Trifle )
He begg'd of me, to ſveal'.

Iago. Villanous Whore.

Emil. She give it Caffio ? alas I found it,
And I did giv't my husband.

Iago. Filth thou lieſt.

Emil. By heaven I do not, I do not Gentlemen :
Oh murd'rous Coxcomb, what should ſuch a ſool
Do with fo good a wife ?

Oth. Are there no ſtones in heaven,
But what ſerves for the Thunder ?
Precious Villain.

Gra. The woman falls :

Sure he hath kill'd his Wife.

Emil. I, I; oh lay me by my Miftris ſide.

Gra. He's gone, but his wife's kill'd.

Mont. 'Tis a notorious Villain: take you this weapon
Which I have recover'd from the Moor :
Come guard the door without, let him not paffe,
But kill him rather: I'le after that fame villain,
For 'tis a damned Slave.

Zzz 3

316

The Tragedy of Othello

Oth. I am not valiant neither :
But every Puny whipper gets my sword,
But why should honour out-live honesty ?
Let it go all.

Amil. What did thy Song boad, Lady ?
Hark canst thou hear me ? I will play the Swan,
And die in Mufick: Willow, willow, willow.
Moor, the was chafe : the lov'd thee, cruel Moor :
So come my foul to bliffe, as I speak true :
So speaking as I think, alas, I die.

Oth. I have another weapon in this Chamber,
It was a sword of Spain, the Ice brooks temper :
Oh here it is : Uncle I muft come forth.

Gra. If thou attempt it, it will coft thee dear;
Thou haft no weapon, and perforce muft suffer.
Oth. Look in upon me then, and speak with me,
Or naked as I am I will affault thee.

Gra. What is the matter ?

Oth. Behold, I have a weapon :

A better never did it self fuftain
Upon a Souldiers Thigh. I have seen the day,
That with this little Arme, and this good sword,
I have made my way through more impediments
Then twenty times you stop. But (oh vain boaf)
Who can controll his fate ? 'tis not so now.
Be not affaiff, though you do fee me weapon'd :
Here is my journeys end, here is my But,
And very Sea-mark of my utmoft Sail.
Do you go back ditmaid ? 'Tis a loft fear,
Man but a Rush against Othello's breft,
And he retires. Where should Othello go ?
Now: how doft thou look now ? oh ill-Starr'd wench,
Pale as thy Smock: when we shall meet at compt,
This look of thine will hurle my foul from Heaven,
And fiends will snatch at it. Cold, cold, my Girtle?
Even like thy Chaftity. O curfed, curfed Slave !
Whip me, ye Devi's,
From the poſſation of this heavenly fight :
Blow me about in winds, and roaſt me in Sulphure,
Wash me in fteep-down gulfs of Liquid Fire.
Oh Desdemona ! dead Desdemona : dead, dead. Oh, oh!

Enter Lodovico, Caffio, Montano, and Iago
with Officers.

Lod. Where is this raſh, and moſt unfortunate man ?
Oth. That's he that was Othello : here I am.
Lod. Where is that Viper ?
Bring the Villain forth.
Oth. I look down towards his feet; but that's a fable,
If that thou bect a devil, I cannot kill thee.
Lod. Wrench his sword from him.
Iago. I bleed, fir, but not kill'd.
Oth. I am not forry neither, I'd have thee live :
For in my ſenſe, 'tis happineſſe to die.
Lod. Oh thou, Othello, that was once so good,
Fain in the practice of a curſed Slave,
What ſhall be faid to thee.
Oth. Why any thing:
An honorable Murderer, if you will :
For nought I did in hate, but all in Honor.
Lod. This wretch hath part confelt his Villany :
Did you and he confent in Caffio's death.
Oth. I.
Caf. Dear General, I never gave you cauſe,
Oth. I do believe it, and I ask your pardon :
Will you, I pray, demand that demy-Devil,

Why he hath thus entar'd my foul and body.
Iago. Demand me nothing: what you know, you know:
From this time forth, I never will ſpeak word.
Lod. What ? not to pray ?

Lod. What ? not to pray ?
Gra. Torments will ope your lips.
Oth. Well, thou doſt beſt.
Lod. Sir,
You shall understand what hath beſaln,
(Which as I think, you know not) here is a Letter
Found in the pocket of the flain Roderigo,
And here another, the one of them imports
The death of Caffio, to be undertook
By Roderigo.

Oth. O Villain !
Caffio. Moſt heatheninſh, and moſt groſſe.
Lod. Now, here's another diſcontented paper
Found in his pocket too: and this it ſeems
Roderigo meane to have ſent this damned villain:
But that (belike) Iago in the interim
Came in, and faſiſt him.

Oth. Oh thou pernicious Caiciffes:
How came you (Caffio) by that Handkerchief
That was my wives ?

Caf. I found it in my Chamber :
And he himſelf confect it but even now,
That there he dropt it for a ſpecial purpofe,
Which wrought to his defire.

Oth. O fool, fool, fool !
Caf. There is befides, in Roderigo's Letter,
How he upbraids Iago, that he made him
Brave me upon the Watch: whereon it came
That I was caſt; and even but now he ſpake
(After long feeming dead) Iago hurt him,
Iago ſet him on.

Lod. You muſt forſake this room, and go with us:
Your power, and your command is taken off,
And Caffio rules in Cyprus. For this Slave,
If there be any cunning Cruelty,
That can torment him much, and hold him long,
It shall be his. You shall cloſe Přifoner reſts,
Till that the Nature of your fault be known
To the Venetian State. Come, bring away.

Oth. Soft you; a word or two before you go :
I have done the State ſome ſervice, and they know't :
No more of that. I pray you in your Letters,
When you ſhall theſe unlucky deeds relate,
Speak of me, as I am. Nothing extenuate,
Nor fet down ought in malice.
Then muſt you ſpeak,
Of one that lov'd not wifely, but too well :
Of one, not caſily Jealous, but being wrought,
Perplexed in the excrean : Of one, whole hand
(Like the bafe Indian) threw a Pearle away
Richer then all his Tribe : Of one, whole ſubd'd Eyes,
Albeit unſuſed to the melting mood,
Drop tears as faſt as the Arabian trees.
Their Medicinable gumme. Set you down this :
And ſay befides, that in Aleppo once,
Where a malignant, and a Turbond-Turk
Beats a Venetian, and traduſt'd the State,
I took by th'throat the circumſcified Dog,
And ſmote him, thus.

Lod. Oh blondy period.

Gra. All that is ſpoke is marr'd.
Oth. I kiff thee, ere I kill'd thee: Now way but this,
Killing my ſelf, to die upon a kifs.
Dies.

Caffio.

818

THE TRAGEDY OF
ANTHONY and CLEOPATRA.

Actus Primus. Scena Prima.

Enter Demetrius, and Philo.

Philo.

Ay, but this dotage of our General
Ore-flows the meaſure: thofe his goodly eyes
That o're the Files and Muſters of the War,
Have glow'd like plated Mars,

Now bend, now turn

The Office and Devotion of their view
Upon a Tawny Front. His Captains heart,
Which in the ſcuffles of great fights hath buſt
The Buckles on his breſt rencages all temper,
And is become the Bellows and the Fan
To cool a Gypſes Luſt.

Enter Anthony, and Cleopatra, her Ladies;
the Train, with Eunuchs fan-
ning her.

Look where they come :
Take but good note, and you ſhall fee him
The tripple Pillar of the world transform'd
Into a Strumpets Fool. Behold and fee.

Cleo. If it be Love indeed, tell me how much ?

Ant. There's beggery in the love that can be reckon'd.

Cleo. I'le ſet a bourn how far to be belov'd.

Ant. Then muſt thou needs find out new heaven,
new earth.

Enter a Meſſenger.

Mef. News (my good Lord) from Rome.

Ant. Rate me, the ſumm.

Cleo. Nay hear them Anthony.

Fulvia perchance is angry: or who knows,
If the ſcarce-bearded Cæsar have not ſent
His powerfull 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 ſtay here longer, your difmiffion
Is come from Cæsar, therefore hear it Anthony.

Where's Fulvia's Proceſſe ? (Caſars I would ſay) both
Call in the Meſſengers: as I am Egypts Queen,
Thou bluſhed Anthony, and that bloud of thine
Is Caſars homager: eſſe to thy cheeks payes ſhame,
When ſhilling-tongu'd Fulvia ſcolds. The Meſſengers.

Ant. Let Rome in Tyber melt, and the wide Arch
Of the reaign'd Empire fall: Here is my ſpace,
Kingdomes are clay: Our dungy earth alike

Feeds beaſt as Man ; the Noblenſe of life

Is to do thus: when ſuch a mutual pair,
And ſuch a twain can do't, in which I bind,
On pain of puniſhment, the world to weet
We ſtand up Peerleſſe.

Cleo. Excellent falſhood :

Why did he marry Fulvia, and not love her?

I'le feem the fool I am not. Anthony will be himself,

Ant. But ſtrird by Cleopatra.

Now for the love of love, and her ſoft hours,

Let's not confound the time with Conference harſh;

There's not a minute of our lives ſhould ſtretch

Without ſome pleaſure now. What ſport to night?

Cleo. Hear the Ambaſſadors.

Ant. ſie wrangling Queen :

Whom every thing becomes, to chide, to laugh,

To weep : wholeſe every paſſion fully ſtrives

To make it ſelf (in Thee) fair, and admir'd,

No Meſſenger but thine, and all alone, to night

We'll wander through the ſtrects, and note

The qualities of people. Come my Queen,

Laſt night you did deſire it. Speak not to us.

Exeunt with the Train.

Dem. Is Cæsar with Anthonius priz'd ſo ſlight ?

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 forry, that he approves the common
Lyar, who thus ſpeaks of him at Rome : but I will hope
of better deeds to morrow. Reſt you happy.

Exeunt.

Enter Enobarbus, Lamprius, a Southfayer, Rannius,
Lusillius, Charmian, Iras, Mardian
the Eunuch, and Alexas,

Char. L. Alexas, ſweet Alexas, moſt any thing Alexas,
almost moſt abſolute Alexas, where's the South-
fayer that you prais'd to th'Queen? Oh that I knew
this Husband, which you ſay, muſt change his horns with
Garlands.

Alex. Soothfayer.

Sooth. Your will ?

Char. Is this the Man? Is't you, fir, that know things?

Sooth. In Natures infinite book of Secrecy, a little I
can read.

Alex. Shew him your hand.

Enob. Bring in the Banquet quickly: Wine caugh,
Cleo.

Anthony and Cleopatra.

819

Cleopatra's health to drink.

Char. Good fir, give me good Fortune.

Sooth. I make not, but foreflee.

Char. Pray then, foreflee me one.

Sooth. You shall be yet far fairer then you are,

Char. He means in fleft,

Iras. No, you shall paint when you are old.

Char. Wrinkles forbid.

Alex. Vex not his patience, be attentive.

Char. Hufh,

Sooth. You shall be more beloved, then beloved.

Char. I had rather heat my Liver with drinking.

Alex. Nay, hear him.

Char. Good, now some excellent Fortune. Let me be married to three Kings in a forenoon, and Widow them all: Let me have a Child at fifty, to whom Herod of Jezous may do Honame. Finde me to marry me with Octavius Cæsar, and companion me with my Miftris.

Sooth. You shall out-live the Lady whom you ferve.

Char. Oh excellent, I love long life better then Figs.

Sooth. You have feen and proved a fairer former fortune, then that which is to approach.

Char. Then belike my Children (shall have no names: Prithee how many Boyes and Wenches muft I have.

Sooth. If every of your wifhes had a womb, and foretell every wifh, a Million.

Char. Out Fool, I forgive thee for a Witch.

Alex. You think none but your Sheets are privy to your wifhes.

Char. Nay come, tell Iras hers.

Alex. We'll know all our Fortunes.

Enob. Mine, and moft of our Fortunes to night, shall be drunk to bed.

Iras. There's a Palm prefages Chaftity, if nothing eſſe.

Char. E'ne as the o're-flowing Nylus prefageth Faſt mine.

Iras. Go you wild Bedſellow, you cannot Soothſay.

Char. Nay, if an oyly Palme be not a fruitfull Proſ notification, I cannot scratch mine ear. Prithee tell her but a workyday Fortune.

Sooth. Your Fortunes are alike.

Iras. But how, but how, give me particulars.

Sooth. I have 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 choſe it.

Iras. Not in my husbands Nofe.

Char. Our worſer thoughts heavens mend.

Alexas. Come, his Fortune, his Fortune. Oh let him marry a woman that cannot go, sweet Ifis, I beſeech thee, and let her die too, and give him a worſe, and let worſe follow worſe, till the worſt of all follow him laughing to his grave, fifty-fold a Cuckold. Good Ifis, hear me this Prayer, though thou deny me a matter of more weight: good Ifis, I beſeech thee.

Char. Amen, dear Goddeſſe, hear that prayer of the people. For, as it is a heart-breaking to fee a handſome man loofe-wiv'd, so it is a deadly forrow, to behold a foul Knave uncuckold'd: therefore, dear Ifis, keep deco-rum, and Fortune him accordingly.

Char. Amen.

Alex. Loe now, if it lay in their hands to make me a Cuckold, they would make themſelves Whores, but they'd do't.

Enter Cleopatra.

Eno. Hufh, Here comes Anthony,

Char. Not he, the Queen.

Cleo. Saw you my Lord?

Eno. No Lady.

Cleo. Was he not here?

Char. No Madam.

Cleo. He was diſpos'd to mirth, but on the sudden

A Roman thought hath ftruck him.

Enobarbus ?

Enob. Madam.

Cle. Seek him, and bring him hither: where's Alexas ?

Alex. Here at your ſervice.

My Lord approaches.

Enter Anthony with a Meſſenger.

Cleo. We will not look upon him: Go with us,

Exenent.

Mef. Fulvia thy Wife,

First came into the Field.

Ant. Againſt my Brother Lucius.

Mef. I, but ſoon that War had end,

And the times ſtate

Made friends of them, joypning their force 'gainſt Cæsar.

Whofe better ilſue in the war of Italy,

Upon the ſiſt encounter drave them.

Ant. Well, what worſt.

Mef. The nature of bad news inſects the Teller.

Ant. When it concerns the Fool or Coward: On.

Things that are paſt, are done, with me. 'Tis thus,

Who tells me true, though in his Tale lye death, I hear him as he flatter'd.

Mef. Labienus (this is ſliffe-news)

Hath with his Parthian Force

Extended Afia: from Euphrates his conquering

Bannor shook, from Syria to Lydia,

And to Ionia, whilft---------

Ant. Anthony thou would't ſay.

Mef. Oh my Lord.

Ant. Speak to me home,

Mince not the general tongue, name

Cleopatra as ſhe is call'd in Rome:

Rail thou in Fulvia's phraſe, and taunt thy faults

With ſuch full Licence, as both Truth and Malice

Have power to utter. Oh then we bring forth weeds,

When our quick winds lye ſtill, and our ills told us

Is as our ear-ring: fare thee well a while.

Mef. At your Noble pleasure.

Exit Meſſenger.

Enter another Meſſenger.

Ant. From Sciccion how the news ? ſpeak there,

1 Mef. The man from Sciccion,

Is there ſuch an one ?

2 Mef. He ſtayes upon your will,

Ant. Let him appear:

These ſtrong Egyptian Fetters I muſt break,

Or loofe my ſelf in dotage.

Enter another Meſſenger with a Letter.

What are you ?

3 Mef. Fulvia thy wife is dead.

Ant. Where died ihe.

Mef. In Sciccion, her length of ſickneſſe,

With what elfe more ſerious,

Importe to thee to know, this bears,

Ant. Forbear me

There's a great ſpirit gone, thus did I define it:

What our contempts do often hurle from us,

We

The Tragedy of

We with it ours again, the present pleasure,
By revolution lowring, does become
The opposite of it felt: she's good being gon,
The hand could pluck her back, that fhow'd her on.
I muft from this Queen break off,
Ten thousand barnes, more then the ills I know
My idlenesse doth hatch,

Enter Enobarbus.

How now Enobarbus.

Eno. What's your pleasure, fir ?

Ant. I muft with haft from hence.

Eno. Why then we kill all our Women. We fee how mortall an unkindneſſe is to them, if they ſuffer our de-parture, death's the word.

Ant. I muſt be gone,

Eno. Under a compelling an occafion, let women die. It were pitty to caſt them away for nothing, though be-tween them and a great caufe, they should be eſteemed nothing. Cleopatra catching but the leaſt noife of this, dies inſ instant: I have ſeen her, die twenty times upon far poorer moment: I do think there is mettle in death, which commits ſome loving act upon her, ſhe hath ſuch a celenty in dying,

Ant. She is cunning paſt mans thought.

Eno. Alack, fir, no, her paffions are made of nothing but the fineſt part of pure love. We cannot call her winds and waters, ſights and tears: they are greater ſtormes and Tempeſts then Almanacks can report. This cannot be cunning in her; if it be, ſhe makes a ſhowre of Rain as well as Jove.

Ant. Would I had never ſeen her.

Eno. Oh fir, you had then left unfeen a wonderful piece of work, which not to have bin bleſt withall, would have diſeemed your Travel,

Ant. Fulvia is dead.

Eno. Sir.

Ant. Fulvia is dead.

Eno, Fulvia?

Ant. Dead.

Eno. Why fir, give the gods a thankfull Sacrifice: when it pleafeth their Deities to take the wife of a man from him, it ſhews to man the Tailors of the earth: comforting therein, that when old Robes are worn out, there are members to make new. If there were no more Women but Fulvia, then had you indeed a cut, and the cafe to be lamented: this grief is crown'd with Conſolation, your old Smock brings forth a new Petticoat, and indeed the tears live in an Onion, that ſhould water this ſorrow.

Ant. The buſineſſe ſhe hath broached in the State,
Cannot endure my abſence.

Eno. And the buſineſſe you have broach'd here can-
not be without you, eſpecially that of Cleopatra's,
wholly depends on your aboad.

Ant. No more like Anſwers:
Let our Officers

Have notice what we propoſe. I ſhall break
The cauſe of our Expedience to the Queen,
And get her love to part. For not alone
The death of Fulvia, with more urgent touches
Do strongly ſpeak to us: but the letters too
Of many our contriving friends in Rome,
Petition us at home. Sextus Pompeius
Hath given thee dare to Caſar, and commands
The Empire of the Sea. Our slippery people
Whofe love is never link'd to the deferver,

Till his delerts are paſt, begin to throw
Pompey the great, and all his dignities
Upon his Son, who high in Name and Power,
Higher then both in cloud and life, ſtands up
For the main Souldier. Whofe quality going on,
The fides oth'world may danger. Much is breeding,
Which like the Courſers hare, hath yet but life,
And not a Serpents poifon. Say our pleaſure,
To ſuch whoſe place is under us, requires
Our quick remove from hence.

Eno. I ſhall do't,

Exenunt.

Enter Cleopatra, Charmian, Alexas, and Irae.

Cleo. Where is he ?

Char. I did not fee him ſince.

Cleo. See where he is,

Who's with him, what he do's:

I did not ſend you. If you find him ſad,

Say I am dancing: if in mirth, report

That I am ſudden ſick. Quickly, and return.

Char. Madam, I thinks if you did love him dearly

You do not hold the method, to enforce
The like from him.

Cleo. What should I do, I do not ?

Ch. In each thing give him way, croſſe him in noth ing

Cleo. Thou teacheſt like a fool: the way to loſe him.

Char. Tempt him not ſo too far. I with forbear,
In time we hate that which we often fear.

Enter Anthony.

But here comes Anthony.

Cleo. I am ſick, and ſullen.

Anth. I am forry to give breathing to my purpofe.

Cleo. Help me away, dear Charmian, I ſhall fall,
It cannot be thus long, the fides of Nature

Will not ſuſtain it.

Ant. Now, my deareſt Queen.

Cleo. Pray you ſtand farther from me,

Ant. What's the matter ?

Cleo. I know by that fame eye there's ſome good news
What faies the married woman you may go ?

Would ſhe had never given you leave to come,

Let her not ſay 'tis I that keep you here,

I have no power upon you: Hers you are.

Ant. The gods beſt know.

Cleo. Oh never was there Queen

So mightily betrayed: yet at the first
I law the treaſons planted.

Ant. Cleopatra.

Cleo. Why ſhould I think you can be mine, and true
(Though you ſwear ing ſhake the Throned gods)
Who have bin ſalſe to Fulvia ?

Riotous madneſſe,

To be entangled with thofe mouth-made vows,
Which break themſelves in ſwearing.

Ant. Moſt ſweet Queen.

Cleo. Nay pray you ſee k no colour for your going,

But bid farewell, and go:

When you ſued ſtaying,

Then was the time for words: No going then,
Eternity was in our Lips, and Eyes.

Bliffe in our brows bent: none our parts ſo poor,

But was a race of heaven. They are ſo ſtill,

Or thou the greatest Souldier of the world,

Art turn'd the greater Lyar.

Ant. How now, Lady ?

Cleo.