14

The Tempeft.

Ant. I'le be thy fecond.

Exeunt.

Gon. All three of them are desperate: their great guilt
(Like yoyson given to work a great time after)
Now gins to bite the spirits; I doe befeech you
(That are of fuppler joynts) follow them twifly,
And hinder them from what this extafie
May now provoke them to.

Ad. Follow, I pray you.

Exeunt omnes.

Actus Quartus. Scena Prima.

Enter Profpero, Ferdinand, and Miranda.

Pro. If I have too auferely punifh'd you,
Your compensation makes amends, for I
Have given you here, a third of mine own life,
Or that for which I live: who once again
I tender to thy hand: All thy vexations
Were but my trialls of thy love, and thou
Haft fttrangely flood the reft: here, afore heaven
I ratifie this my rich gift: O Ferdinand,
Do not smile at me, that I boast her off,
For thou fhalt find the will out-flup all praisc
And make it halt, behind her.

Fer. I doe believe it
Against an Oracle.

Pro. Then, as my gueft, and thine own acquifition
Worthily purchase'd, take my daughter:
If thou do't break her Virgin-knot, before
All fanfimonious ceremonies may
With full and holy right be miniftred,
No sweet aspersion fhall the heavens let fall
To make this Contraft grow; but barren hate,
Sower-ey'd difdain, and difcord fhall beftrew
The union of your bed, with weeds fo loathly
That you fhall hate it both: Therefore take heed,
As Hymens Lamps fhall light you.

Fer. As I hope
For quiet dayes, fair ille, and long life.
With much love, as 'tis now the murkieft den,
The moft opportunities place, the ftrong't ſt feggeſtion,
Our worſer Genius can, ſhall never melt
Mine honour into luſt, to take away
The edge of that dayes celebration,
When I ſhall think, or Phædus ſteeds are founderd,
Or night kept chain'd below.

Pro. Fairly ſpoke;
Sit then, and talk with her, ſhe is thine own;
What Ariell; my industrious ſervant Ariel. Enter Ariel.

Ari. What would my potent maſter ? here I am.
Pro. Thou, and thy meaneer ſellows, your laſt ſer vice

Did worthily perform: and I muſt uſe you
In ſuch another trick: go bring the rabble
(O're whom I give thee power) here, to this place:
Incite them to quick motion, for I muſt
Beflow upon the eyes of this young couple
Some vanity of mine Art: it is my promife,
And they expect it from me.

Ari. Preiently ?
Pro. I: with a twincke,
Ari. Before you can ſay come, and go,
And breathe twice; and cry, ſo, ſo:
Each one tripping on his Toe,
Will be here with mop, and mowe.
Doe you love me Maſter ? no ?

Pro. Dearly, my del cate Ariell: doe not approach
Till thou do'ſt hear me call.

Ari. Well: I conceive.

Exit.

Pro. Look thou be true: doe not give dalliance
Too much the raign: the ſtrongeſt oathes, are ſtraw
To th'fire ith'blood: be more abſtemious,
Or eſſe good night your vow.

Fer. I warrant you, Sir,

The white cold virgin Snow, upon my heart
Abates the ardour of my Liver.

Pro. Well,
Now come my Ariell, bring a Corolary;
Rather then want a ſpirit; appear, and pertly. Soft Maſſick.
No tongue: all eyes: be ſilent.
Enter Iris.

Ir. Ceres, moſt bounteous Lady, the rich Leas
Of Wheat, Rye, Barley, Fetches, Oats, and Peaſe;
Thy Turphy Mountains, where live nibling Sheep,
And flat Medes thethd with Stover, them to keep:
Thy banks with pioned, and twilled brims,
Which ſpungy April, at thy heſt betrims;
To make cold Nymphs chaſt crowns; and thy broom-

Whofe ſhadow the diſmiffed Batchelor loves, (groves;
Being laſſe-lorn: thy pole-clipt vineyard;
And thy Sea-marge ſteril, and rocky-hard,
Where thou thy ſelf doſt aire, the Queen o' th' Skie,
Whofe watry Arch, and meſſenger, am I,
Bids thee leave theſe, and with her ſoveraign grace, Juno

Here on this graſſe-plot, in this very place (descends.
To come, and ſport: here Peacocks flye amain:
Approach, rich Ceres, her to entertain.
Enter Ceres.

Cer. Hail, many coloured Meſſenger, that ne're
Do't diſobey the wife of Jupiter:
Who, with thy ſaffron wings, upon my flowers
Diffuseſt hony drops, refreshing ſhowres,
And with each end of thy blew bow doſt crown
My bosky acres, and my unſhub'd downe,
Rich ſcarph to my proud earth: why hath thy Queen
Summiſond me hicher, to this ſhort graſ'd Green ?

Ir. A contract of true Love, to celebrate,
And ſome donation freely to eſtate
On the bleſ'd Lovers.

Cer. Tell me heavenly Bow,
If Venns or her Son, as thou do'ſt know,
Doe now attend the Queen ? ſince they did plot
The means, that dusky Dis, my daughter got:
Her, and her blind Boyces ſcandal'd company,
I have forſworn.

Ir. Of her ſociety
Be not afraid: I met her deſty
Cutting the clouds towards Paphos: and her Son
Dove-drawn with her: here thought they to have done
Some wanton charm, upon this man and maid,
Whofe vows are, that no bed-right ſhall be paid
Till Hymens Torch be lighted: but in vain,
Mars's hot Minion is return'd again,
Her waſpife headed Son, has broke his arrows,
Swears he will ſhoot no more, but play with Sparrows,
And be a boy right out.

Cer. Higheſt Queen of State,
Great Juno comes, I know her by her gate.
Ju. How do's my bounteous ſitter ? go with me
To bleſſe this twain, that they may prosperous be,
And honor'd in their ilſue.
They Sing.

Ju. Honour, riches, marriage, bleſsing,
Long continuance, and encreasing,
Hourly joyes, be ſtill upon you,

Juno

The Tempest.

15

Funo sings her bleffings on you.
Earths increafe, and foyzou plenty,
Barns, and Garners, never empty.
Vines, with cluſtring bunches growing;
Plants, with goodly burthen bowing:
Spring come to you at the fartheſt,
In the very end of Harvest.
Scarcity and want ſhall ſun you,
Ceres bleſſing ſo is on you.

Fer. This is a moſt majefick vifion, and
Harmonious charmingly : may I be bold
To think theſe spirits ?

Pro. Spirits, which by mine Art
I have from all their confines call'd to enaſt
My preſent fancies.

Fer. Let me live here ever,
So rare a wondred father, and a wife,
Makes this place Paradife.

Pro. Sweet now, ſilence :
Funo and Ceres ſwhisper feriouſly,
There's something eſſe to doe : hufh, and be mute
Or eſſe our ſpelf is marr'd.

Funo and Ceres ſwhisper, and ſend Iris on employment.
Ir. You Nymphs call'd Nayades of the windring brooks
With your fed'd crowns, and ever-harmleſſe looks,
Leave your crifp channels, and on this green-land
Anſwer your ſummons, Funo do's command
Come temperate Nymphs, and help to celebrate
A Contraſt of true Love : be not too late.

Enter certain Nymphs.
You Sun-burn'd Sicklemen of Auguſt weary,
Come hither from the furrow, and be merry,
Make holly-day : your Rye-ſtraw Hats put on,
And theſe freſh Nymphs encounter every one
In Country footing.

Enter certain Reapers (properly habited :) they join with
the Nymphs in a graceful dance, towards the end whereof,
Proſpero starts suddenly and speaks, after which to
a ſtrange hollow and confused noſe, they heavily vanilſh.

Pro. I had forgot that foul conspiracy
Of the beaſt Calliban, and his conſederates
Agaſt my life : the minute of their plot
Is almoſt come : Well done, avoid : no more.

Fer. This is ſtrange : your Father's in ſome paſſion
That works him strongly.

Mir. Never till this day
Saw I him touch'd with anger, ſo diſtemper'd.

Pro. You doc look (my Son) in a mov'd ſort,
As if you were diſmald : be cheerfull Sir,
Our Revells now are ended : Theſe our actors,
( As I foretold you ) were all Spirits, and
Are melted into air, into thin air,
And like the bafeleſſe fabric of their vifion,
The Clowd-capt Towers, the gorgeous Pallaces,
The ſolemn Temples, the great Globe it ſelf,
Yea all which it inherit, ſhall diſſolve,
And like this inſubſtantiall Pageant faded
Leave not a rack behind : we are ſuch ſtuffe
Bear with my weakneſſe, my old brain is troubled :
Be not diſturb'd with my infirmity,
If you be pleas'd; retire into my Cell,
And there repofe ; a turn or two I'll walk
To ſtill my beating mind.

Fer. Mir. We will with your peace.

Exit.

Pro. Come with a thought; I thank thee Ariell: come.
Enter Ariell.

Ari. Thy thoughts I cleave to, what's thy pleafure ?
Pro. Spirit: we muſt prepare to meet with Caliban.
Ari. I my Commander, when I prefented Ceres
I thought to have told thee of it, but I fear'd
Leaſt I might anger thee.

Pro. Say again, where didſt thou leave theſe varlots ?
Ar. I told you Sir, they were red-hot with drinking,
So full of valour, that they ſmore the aire
For breathing in their faces : beat the ground
For kifſing of their feet ; yet always bending
Towards their project : then I beat my Tabor;
At which like unback't Colts they pricct their cares,
Advanc'd their eye-lids, lifted up their noſes
As they ſmelt muſick, ſo I charm'd their eares
That Calf-like, they my lowing follow'd, through
Tooth'd briars, ſharp firzes, pricking goſſe, and thorns,
Which entred their frail thins : at laſt I left them
I'ch filthy mandled pool beyond your Cell,
There dancing up to th' chins, that the foul Lake
O're-flunk their feet.

Pro. This was well done (my bird)
Thy shape invifible retain thou ſtill :
The trumpercy in my houſe, go bring it hither
For ſtale to catch theſe theeves. Ariell. I go, I go. Exit.

Pro. A devil, a born-devil, on whose nature
Nurture can never ſtick : on whom my pains
Humanely taken, all, all loſt, quite loſt,
And, as with age, his body uglier grows,
So his mind cankers : I will plague them all,
Even to roaring : Come, hang on this line.
Enter Ariell, loaden with glistering apparell, &c. Enter
Caliban, Stephano, and Trinculo, all wet.

Cal. Pray you tread softly, that the blind Mole may
not hear a foot fall : we now are near his Cell. (Fairy,
Ste. Monſter, your Fairy, which you ſay is a harmleſſe
Has done little better then plaid the Jack with us.
Trin. Monſter, I doe ſmell all horſe-piffe, at which
My noſe is in great indignation.
Ste. So is mine. Doe you hear Monſter : If I should
Take a diſpleasure against you : Look you.
Trin. Thou wert but a loſt Monſter.
Cal. Good my Lord, give me thy favour ſtill ;
Be patient, for the prize I'le bring thee to
Shall hood-wink this miſchance : therefore ſpeak ſoftly,
All's hufht as midnight yet.

Trin. I, but to loſe our Bottles in the Poole.
Ste. There is not onely diſgrace and diſhonour in
that (Monſter) but an infinite loſſe.

Trin. That's more to me then my wetting :
Yet this is your harmleſſe Fairy, Monſter.

Ste. I will fetch off my Bottle,
Though I be o're eares for my labour.

Cal. Prethee (my King) be quiet. See ſt thou here
This is the mouth o' the Cell : no noſe, and enter :
Doe that good miſchief, which may make this Inſland
Thine own for ever, and I thy Caliban
For aye thy foot-licker.

Ste. Give me thy hand,
I doe begin to have bloody thoughts.

Trin. O King Stephano, O Peer : O worthy Stephano,
Look what a wardrobe here is for thee.

Cal. Let it alone thou fool, it is but trath.
Tri. Oh, ho, Monſter : we know what belongs to a
frippery, O King Stephano.

B 2

Ste.

The Tempeſt.

17

Didst thou *Alonſa*, use me, and my daughter:
Thy Brother was a furtherer in the act,
Thy art pinched'd for't now *Sebastian*. Flesh, and blood,
You, Brother mine, that entertain'd ambition,
Expell'd remorſe, and nature, whom, with *Sebastian*
(Whofe inward pinches therefore are moſt ſtrong)
Would here have kill'd your King : I doe forgive thee,
Unnaturall though thy art : their understanding
Begins to ſwell, and the approaching tide
Will shortly fill the reaſonable ſhore
That now lies foul and muddy : not one of them
That yet looks on me, or would know me : *Ariell*,
Fetch me the Hat, and Rapier in my Cell,
I will diſcaſe me, and my ſelf preſent
As I was ſometime *Millain* : quickly ſpirit,
Thou ſhalt ere long be free.

*Ariell's* ſongs, and helps to act his him.
> Where the Bee ſucks, there ſuck I,
> In a Cowflips bell, I lie.
> There I crowch when Owles do cry,
> On the Bats back I doe flie
> after Summer merrily.
> Merrily, merrily, shall I live now,
> Under the Bloſſons that hangs on the Bow.

*Pro.* Why that's my dainty *Ariell*: I shall miffle thee,
But yet thou ſh. It have freeſome : fo, fo, fo.
To the Kings Ship, inviſible as thou art,
There ſhalt thou find the Mariners aſleep
Under the Hatches : the Maſher and the Boat-ſwain
Being awake, enforce them to this place ;
And preſently, I prethee.

* Ari*.
I drink the aire before me, and return
Or ere your pulſe twice beat.

*Exit*.

*Gon.* All torment, trouble, wonder, and amazement
Inhabit's here : ſome heavenly power guide us
Out of this fearfull Countrey.

*Pro.* Behold Sir King
The wronged Duke of *Millain*, *Proſpero* :
For more affurance that a living Prince
Do's now ſpeak to thee, I embrace thy body,
And to thee, and thy Company, I bid
A hearty welcome.

* Alo*.
Where thou be't he or no,
O ſome inchaſted trifle to abuſe me,
(As late I have been) I not know : thy Pulſe
Beats as of fleſh, and blood : and ſince I ſaw thee,
Th' aſſiſtion of my mind amends, with which
I fear a madneſſe held me : this muſt crave
(And if this be at all) a moſt ſtrange ſtory.
Thy Dukedome I reſign, and do entreat
Thou pardon me my wrongs : but how ſhould *Proſpero*
Be living, and be here ?

*Pro.* Firſt, noble friend,
Let me embrace thyne age, whose honour cannot
Be meaſur'd, or confin'd.

*Gon.* Whether this be,
Or be not, I'le not ſwear.

*Pro.* You doe yet taſſe
Some ſubtilties o'th' Iſle, that will not let you
Believe things certain : Welcome, my friends all,
But you, my brace of Lords, were I, ſo minded
I here could pluck his Highneſſe frown upon you
And juſtifie you Traiſons: at this time
I will tell no tales.

*Seb.* The devil ſpeaks in him :

*Pro.* No.

For you (moſt wicked Sir) whom to call Brother
Would even inſect my mouth, I doe forgive
Thy rankeſt fault : all of them : and require
My Dukedom of thee, which, perſorce I know
Thou muſt reſfore.

* Alo*.
If thou beſt *Proſpero*,
Give us particulars of thy preſervation,
How thou haſt met us here, who three hours ſince
Were wrackt upon this ſhore ? where I have loſt
(How ſharp the point of this remembrance is)
My dear Son *Ferdinand*.

*Pro.* I am woe for't, Sir.

* Alo.* Irreparable is the loſſe, and patience
Sayes, it is paſt her eure.

*Pro.* I rather think
You have not fought her help, of whose ſoft grace
For the like loſſe, I have her ſoveraigh aid,
And reſt my ſelf content.

* Alo.* You the like loſſe ?

*Pro.* As great to me, as late, and inſupportable
To make the dear loſſe, have I means much weaker
Then you may call to comfort you ; for I
Have loſt my daughter.

* Alo.* A daughter ?
Oh heavens, that they were living both in *Naples*
The King and Queen there, that they were, I with
My ſelfe were mudded in that oo-zy bed
Where my Son lies : when did you loſe your daughter ?

*Pro.* In this laſt Tempeſt. I perſive theſe Lords
At this encounter doe ſo much admire,
That they devour their reaſon, and ſcarce think
Their eye do ſe offices of truth : their words
Are naturall breath : but howfoever you have
Been juſtled from your ſences, know for certain
That I am *Proſpero*, and that very Duke
Which was thuſt forth of *Millain*, who moſt ſtrangely
Upon this ſhore (where you were wrack't) was landed
To be the Lord on't : no more yet of this,
For 'tis a Chronicle of day by day,
Not a relation for a break-faſt, nor
Befitting this firſt meeting : Welcome, Sir;
This Cell's my Court : here have I few attendants;
And Subjeſts none abroad : pray you look in :
My Dukedome ſince you have given me again,
I will requite you with as good a thing,
At laſt bring forth a wonder, to content ye
As much, as me my Dukedome.

*Here Proſpero* *dif* *cover* *s Ferdin* *and* *Miranda*,
*playing at Cheſſe*.

*Mr.* *Sweet Lord*, you play me ſalſe,
*Fer.* No my deareſt love,
I would not for the world,

*(Swrangle)*

*Mir.* Yes, for a ſcore of Kingdomes, you ſhouſd
And I would call it fair play.

* Alo.* If this prove
A viſion of the ſlland, one dear Son
Shall I twice loſe.

*Seb.* A moſt high miraſe.
*Fer.* Though the Seas threaten they are merciſul;
I have curs'd them without cauſe.

* Alo.* Now all the bleſſings
Of a glad father, compaſſe thee about ;
Arife, and ſay how thou cam't here.

*Mir.* O wonder !
How many goodly creatures are there here ?
How beauteous mankind is ? O brave new world !

B 3

That

18

The I empeſt.

Thut has ſuch people in't.

Pro. 'Tis new to thee.

(play ?)

Alo. What is this Maid, with whom thou was't at
Your eld'ft acquaintance cannot be three hours :

Is ſhe the goddeſſe that hath feve'rd us,
And brought us thus together ?

Fer. Sir, ſhe is mortall;

But by iminortall providence, ſhe's mine;
I chofe her when I could not ask my Father
For his advife: nor thought I had one: She
Is Daughter to this famous Duke of Millain,
Of whom, fo often I have heard renoun,
But never ſaw before: of whom I have
Receiv'd a ſecond life; and ſecond Father
This Lady makes him to me.

Alo. I am hers.

But O, how odly will it found, that I

Muſt ask my child ſorgiveneffe ?

Pro. There Sir, ſtop.

Let us not burthen our remembrances, with
A heavineſſe that's gone.

Gon. I have inly wept,

Or ſhould have ſpoke ere this: look down you gods
And on this couple drop a bleſſed crown;
For it is you that have chalk'd forth the way
Which brought us hither.

Alo. I ſay Amen, Gonzalo.

Gon. Was Millain thurſt from Millain, that his iſſue

Should become Kings of Naples ; O rejoyce
Beyond a common joy, and let it down

With gold on laſting Pillars: In one voyage
Did Claribell her Husband find at Tuntis,
And Ferdinand her Brother, found a Wife,
Where he himſelf was loſt: Proſpero his Dukedome
In a poor Ifle: and all of us, our ſelves,
When no man was his own.

Alo. Give me your hands :

Let grief and forrow till embrace his heart,
That doth not with you joy.

Gon. Be it ſo, Amen.

Enter Ariell, with the Master and Boatswain
amazedly following.

O look Sir, look, hear is more of us !

I propheſt'd, if a Gallows were on Land

This fellow could not droun ; Now blaſphemy,
That ſwear'ſt grace ore-board, not an oath on ſhore,
Haſt thou no mouth by Land ?
What is the newes ?

Boat. The beſt newes is, that we have ſafe found

Our King and company : The next : our Ship,
Which but three glaſſes ſince, we gave out ſplit,
Is tyce, and yare, and bravely rig'd, as when
We ſiſt put out to Sea.

Ar. Sir, all this ſervice

Have I done ſince I went.

Pro. My trickſey ſpirit.

Alo. Theſe are not naturall events, they ſtrengthen
From ſtrange to ſtranger : ſay, how came you hither ?

Bot. If I did ſink, Sir, I were well awake,

I'd ſrive to tell you: we were dead of ſleep,
And (how we know not) all clapt under hatches,
Where, but even now, with ſtrange and ſeveral noſes
Of roring, shreeling, howling, gingling chains,

And moe diversity of ſounds, all horrible,
We were awake'd : ſtraight way at liberty ;
Where we, in all our trim, freshly beheld

Our royall, good, and gallant Ship : our Maſter

Capring to eye her: on a trice, ſo pleate you,
Even in a dream, were we divided from them,
And were brought moping hither,

Ar. Was't well done ?

Pro. Bravely (my diligence) thou ſhalt be free,

Ar. This is a ſtrange a Maze, as e're men trod,
And there is in this buſineſſe, more then nature
Was ever conduct of: ſome Oracle

Muſt reſtifie our knowledge.

Pro. Sir, my Liege,

Do not inſeft your mind, with beating on
The ſtrangen ſeffe of this buſineſſe, at pickt ſeizure
(Which ſhall be ſhortly ſingle) I'le resolve you,
(Which to you ſhall ſeem probable) of every

Theſe happen'd accidents: till when, be cheerfull
And think of each thing well: Cone hither ſpirit ;

Set Caliban, and his companions free:

Untye the Spell: How farres my gracious Sir ?

There are yet miſling of your Company

Some ſew odde Lads, that you remember not,

Enter Ariell, driving in Caliban, Stephano, and
Trinculo, in their ſoln Apparell.

Ste. Every man ſhift for all the reſt, and let

No man take care for him ſelf; for all is

But fortune: Coragio: Bully-Monſter, Coragio.

Tri. If theſe be true ſpies which I wear in my head,
Here's a goodly fight.

Cal. O Setebos, theſe be brave ſpirits indeed ;

How fine my Maſter is ? I am afraid

He will chaſtife me.

Seb. Ha, ha :

What things are theſe my Lord Anthony ?

Will money by 'em ?

Ant. Very like: one of them

Is a plain Fifth, and no doubt marketable,

Pro. Mark but the badges of theſe men, my Lords,
Then ſay if they be true: This miſhapen knave ;
His Mother was a Witch, and one ſo ſtrong
That could controul the Moon, make ſlowes, and eb's,
And deal in her command, without her power ;
Theſe three have robb'd me, and this demy-devil ;
(For he's a baſtard one) had plotted with them
To take my life: two of theſe Fellows, you
Muſt know, and own, this Thing of darkneſſe, I
Acknowledge mine.

Cal. I ſhall be pincht to death.

Alo. Is not this Stephano, my drunken Butler ?

Seb. He is drunk now.

Where had he the Wine?

Alon. And Trinculo is reeling ripe: where ſhould they
Find this grand Liquor that hath gilded 'em ?

How cam't thou in this pickle ?

Tri. I have been in ſuch a pickle ſince I ſaw you laſt,
That I fear me will never out of my bones :
I ſhall not fear ſlie-blowing.

Seb. Why how now Stephano ?

Ste. O touch me not, I am not Stephano, but a Cramp.

Pro. You'd be King o' th' Ifle, Sirra ?

Ste. I ſhould have been a ſore one then.

Alo. 'Tis a ſtrange thing as e're I look'd on.

Pro. He is as diſproportion'd in his manners
As in his ſhape : Go Sirra, to my Cell,

Take with you your Companions: as you look
To have my pardon, trim it handſomly.

Cal. I that I will: and I'le be wife hereafter,

And

20

THE
Two Gentlemen of Verona.

*Actus Primus, Scena Prima.*

Valentine, Protheus, and Speed.

Valentine.

Eafe to perfwade, my loving Protheus;
Home-keeping youth, have ever homely wits,
Wer't not affection chaines thy tender days,
To the sweet glances of thy honour'd Love,
I rather would entreat thy company,
To fee the wonders of the world abroad,
Then (living dully fluggardiz'd at home)
Wear out thy youth with shapelefs idlenefs.
But since thou lov't; love fill, and thrive therein,
Even as I would, when I to love begin.

Pro. Wilt thou be gone ? Sweet Valentine adieu,
Think on thy Protheus, when thou (happly) leest
Some rare note-worthy object in thy travaile.
With me partaker in thy happineſs,
When thou do'ſt meet good hap ; and in thy danger,
(If ever danger do environ thee)

Commend thy grievance to my holy prayers,
For I will be thy Bead's-man, Valentine.

Val. And on a Love-book pray for thy ſucces ?

Pro. Upon fome book I love, Ile pray for thee.

Val. That's on fome ſhallow Story of deep love,

How young Leander croft the Helleſpont.

Pro. That's a deep Story of a deeper love.

For he was more then over-ſhoos in love.

Val. 'Tis true; for you are over-boots in love,
And yet you never ſwom the Helleſpont.

Pro. Over the Boots ? nay give me not the Boots.

Val. No, I will not; for it boots thee not

Pro. What ?

Val. To be in love, where ſcore is bought with groans:
Coy lookes, with heart-fore ſighes: one fading moments
With twenty watchfull, weary, tedious nights: (mirth,
If haply won, perhaps a hapleſs gain :

If loft, why then a grievous labour won ;

How ever, but a folly bought with wit,

Or eſſe a wit, by folly vanquifhed.

Pro. So, by your circumſtance, you call me fool.

Val. So, by your circumſtance, I fear you'l prove.

Pro. 'Tis love you cavil at, I am not Love.

Val. Love is your Maſter, for he Maſters you ;

And he that is ſo yoked by a fool,

Methinks ſhould not be Cronicled for wife.

Pro. Yet Writers ſay; as in the ſweetest Bud,

The eating Canker dwels; ſo eating Love

Inhabit in the fineſt wits of all.

Val. And Writers ſay; as the moſt forward Bud

Is eaten by the Canker ere it blow,
Even ſo by Love, the young and tender wit
Is turn'd to folly, blaſting in the Bud,
Loofing his verdure, even in the prime,
And all the fair effects of future hopes.

But wherefore waſſe I time to counſail thee
That are a Votary to fond define ?

Once more adieu: my Father at the Road
Expects my coming, there to fee me ſhip'd.

Pro. And thither will I bring thee Valentine.

Val. Sweet Protheus, no: Now let us take our leave :
At Millain let me hear from thee by Letters

Of thy ſucces in love; and what news eſſe

Betiſeth here in abſence of thy Friend :

And I likewise will viſit thee with mine.

Pro. All happineſs bechance to thee in Millain.

Val. As much to you at home: and to farewell, Exit.

Pro. He after honour hunts; I after Love ;

He leaves his friends to dignify them more ;

I love my ſelf, my friends, and all for love :
Thou Julia, thou haſt metamorphos'd me :

Made me negleſt my ſtudies, Iſe my time ;

War with good counſail; fet the world at naught ;

Made wit with mufing, weak; heart ſick with thought.

Sp. Sir Protheus: 'lave you: ſaw you my Maſter ?

Pro. But now he parted hence to embarke for Millain.

Sp. Twenty to one then, he is ſhip'd already,
And I have plaid the ſheep in loſing him.

Pro. Indeed a ſheep doth very often fly, And if the Shepheard be awhil e away.

Sp. You conclude that my Maſter is a Shepheard then,
and I a ſheep?

Pro. I doe.

Sp. Why then my hornes are his hornes, whether I
wake or ſleep.

Pro. A filly anſwer, and fitting well a ſheep.

Sp. This proves me fit a ſheep.

Pro. True; and thy Maſter a ſhepheard.

Sp. Nay, that I can deny by a circumſtance.

Pro. It ſhall go hard but I prove it by another.
Sp. The Shepheard ſeeks the ſheep, and not the
Sheep the ſhepheard; but I ſeek my Maſter, and my
Maſter ſeeks not me : therefore I am no ſheep.

Pro. The Sheep for Fodder follow the Shepheard, the
Shepheard for food follow's not the Sheep: thou for wages
followeſt the Maſter, thy Maſter for wages follow's not
thou : therefore thou art a ſheep.

Sp. Such a nother proof will make me cry Baß.

Pro. But doſt thou hear: gav'ft thou my Letter to
Julia?

Sp. I

The two Gentlemen of Verona

21

Sp. 1 Sir : 1 (a loft-Mutton) gave your Letter to her (a lac'd Mutton,) and the (a lac'd Mutton) gave me (a loft-Mutton) nothing for my labour.

Pro. Here's too small a Pafture for such aore of Muttons.

Sp. If the ground be over-charg'd, you were beft fick her.

Pro. Nay in that you are aftray : 'twere beft pound you.

Sp. Nay Sir, leſs then a pound ſhall ſerve me for carrying your letter.

Pro. You miſtake ; I mean the Pound, a Pinfold.

Sp. From a pound to a pin ? fold it over and over,

'Tis three fold too little for carrying a letter to your Lover.

Pro. But what faid ſhe ?

Sp. I.

Pro. Not-I, why that's Noddy.

Sp. You riltook, Sir, I faid ſhe did nod :

And you ask me if ſhe did nod, and I faid I.

Pro. And that ſet together, is noddy.

Sp. Now you have taken the paines to ſet it together, take it for your paines.

Pro. No, no, you ſhall have it for bearing the Letter.

Sp. Well, I perceive I muſt be faіn to bear with you.

Pro. Why fir, how do you bear with me?

Sp. Marry fir, the Letter very orderly,

Having nothing but the word noddy for my paines.

Pro. Behrew me, but you have a quick witt.

Sp. And yet it cannot overtake your flow purſe.

Pro. Come, come, open the matter in brief ; what ſaid ſhe?

Sp. Open your purſe, that the money and the matter may be both delivered.

Pro. Well fir : here is for your paines: what ſaid ſhe ?

Pro. Truly fir, I think you! hardly win her.

Pro. Why? could'ſt thou perſence ſo much from her?

Sp. Sir, I could perſence nothing at all from her ;

No, not ſo much as a Ducket for delivering your letter :

And being ſo hard to me, that brought your minde ;

I fear ſhee! I prove as hard to you in telling her minde.

Give her no token but ſtones, for ſhee's as hard as ſeel.

Pro. What ſaid ſhe, nothing ?

Sp. No, no ſo much as take this for thy paines: (me; To ſcrtifie your bounty, I thank you, you have Teſtern't In requital whereof, henceforth carry your letter your ſelf; And ſo fir, I leſt commend you to my Maſter.

Pro. Go, go, be gone, to ſave your ſhip from wrack, Which cannot perſih having thee aboard,

Being deſtin'd to a dryer death on ſhore :

I muſt go ſend ſome better Meſſenger,

I fear my *Julia* would not deign my lines,

Receiving them from ſuch a worthleſs poſt. Exit.

## Scena Secunda.

### Enter Julia and Lucetta.

Jul. But say *Lucetta* (now are we alone) Would'ſt thou then confail me to fall in love ?

Luc. I Madam, ſo you ſtumble not unheededly.

Jul. Of all the faire ſeort of Gentlemen,

That every clay with parle encounter me,

In thy opinion which is worthiſt love ?

Luc. Please you repeat their names, Ile ſhow my mind,

According to my ſhallow ſimple skill.

Ju. What think'ſt thou of the fair Sir *Eglamser* ?

Luc. As of a Knight, well ſpoken, near, and fine ;

But were I you, he never ſhould be mine.

Ju. What think'ſt thou of the rich *Mercatio* ?

Lu. Well of his wealth; but of himſelf, ſo, ſo.

Ju. What think'ſt thou of the gentle *Protheus* ?

Lu. Lord, Lord : to ſee what folly raignes in us.

Ju. How now ? what means this paſſion at his name?

Lu. Pardon dear Madam, 'tis a paffing ſhame,

That I (unworthy body as I am)

Should cenſure thus on lovely Gentlemen.

Lu. Why not on *Protheus*, as of all the reſt ?

Lu. Then thus: of many good, I think him beſt.

Lu. Your reaſon?

Lu. I have no other but a womans reaſon.

I think him ſo, becauſe I think him ſo.

Ju. And would'ſt thou have me caſt my love on him ?

Lu. I : if you thought your love not caſt away.

Lu. Why he, of all the reſt, hath never mov'd me.

Lu. Yet he, of all the reſt, I think beſt loves ye.

Lu. His little ſpeaking ſhews his love but ſmall.

Lu. Fire that's cloſeſt kept, burns moſt of all.

Lu. They do not love, that do not ſhow their love.

Ku. Oh, they love leaſt, that let men know their love.

Lu. I would I knew his minde.

Lu. Perufe this Paper Madam.

Lu. To *Julia*: ſay, from whom ?

Lu. That the Contents will ſhow.

Lu. Say, ſay : who gave it thee ?

Lu. Sir *Valentines* Page: & ſent I think from *Protheus*.

He would have given it you, but I being in the way,

Did in your name receive it: pardon the fault I pray.

Lu. Now (by my modeſtly) a goodly Broker :

Dare you preſume to harbour wanton lines ?

To whifper and confpire againſt your youth ?

Now truſt me, 'tis an office of great worth,

And you an officer fit for the place.

There : take the Paper : ſee it be return'd,

Or eſſe return no more into my fight.

Lu. To plead for love, deſerves more ſee then hate.

Lu. Will ye be gone ?

Lu. That you may ruminate.

Exit.

Lu. And yet I would I had ore-look'd the Letter ;

It were a ſhame to call her back again,

And pray her to a fault, for which I chid her.

What 'ſool is ſhe, that knows I am a Maid,

And would not force the letter to my view ?

Since Maids in modeſtly, ſay No to that,

Which they would have the proſherer conſtrue, I.

Fie, ſie; how way-ward is this fooliſh love ;

That (like a teſty Babe) will ſcatch the Nurſe,

And prefently, all humbled, kiffle the Rod ?

How churliſhly I chid *Lucetta* hence,

When willingly I would have had her here ?

How angerly I taught my brow to frown,

When inward joy enforc'd my heart to ſmile ?

My penance is, to call *Lucetta* back,

And ask remiſion for my ſolly paſt.

What hoe : *Lucetta*.

Lu. What would your Ladship ?

Lu. Is't near dinner time ?

Lu. I would it were,

That you might kill your ſtomack on your meat,

And

The two Gentlemen of Verona.

25

Son, and am going with Sir *Protheus* to the Imperials
Court: I think *Crab* my Dog, be the fowrest natured
Dog that lives: My Mother weeping: my Father wail-
ing: my Sifter crying: our Maid howling: our Cat
wringing her hands, and all our houſe in a great perple-
xity, yet did not this cruell-hearted Curre ſhed one tear:
he is a ſtone, a very pibble-ſtone, and has no more pity
in him then a Dog: a Jew would have wept to have ſeen
our paring: why my Grandam having no eyes, look you,
wept her ſelf blind at my paring: nay, I'le ſhow you the
manner of it. This ſhooe is my father: no, this left ſhooe
is my father; no, no, this left ſhooe is my mother: nay,
that cannot be ſo neither: yes: it is ſo, it is ſo; it hath the
worſer ſole: this ſhooe with the hole in it, is my mother:
and this my father: a veng'ance on't, there 'tis: Now fir,
this ſtaffe is my ſifter: for look you, ſhe is as white as a
lilly, and as ſmall as a wand: this hat is Nan our maid:
I am the dog: no, the dog is himſelf, and I am the dog:
oh, the dog is me, and I am my ſelf: I ſo, ſo: now
come I to my Father; Father, your bleſſing: now
thou should not the ſhooe ſpeak a word for weeping:
now ſhould I kiffe my Father; well, he weeps in:
Now come I to my Mother: Oh that ſhe could ſpeak
now, like a would-woman: well, I kiffe her: why
there 'tis: here's my mothers breath up and down:
Now come I to my ſifter; marke the moan ſhe makes:
now the dogge all this while ſheds not a tear: nor
ſpeakes a word: but ſee how I lay the duſt with my
tears.

*Panth.* *Launce*, away, away : a Board thy Maſters is
(hip'd, and thou art to poſt after oars; what's the
matter ? why weep 't thou man ? away affe, you'l looſe
the Tide, if you tarry any longer.

*Lann.* It is no matter if the tide were loft, for it is the unkindeſt Tide, that ever any man tyde.

*Panth.* What's the unkindeſt tide ?

*Lau.* Why, he that's tide here, *Crab* my dog.

*Pan.* Tut man : I mean thou'l loofe the floud, and
in loofing the flood, loofe thy voyage, and in loofing thy
voyage, loofe thy Maſter, and in loofing thy Maſter,
loofe thy ſervice, and in loofing thy ſervice : ——why
doft thou ſtop my mouth ?

*Lau.* For fear thou should'ft loofe thy tongue,

*Panth.* Where ſhould I loofe my tongue ?

*Lau.* In thy Tale.

*Panth.* In thy Tale.

*Lau.* Loofe the Tyde, and the voyage, and the Ma-
ſter, and the ſervice, and the tide: why man if the River
were drie, I am able to fill it with my tears : if the wind
were down, I could drive the boat with my ſighs.

*Panth.* Come : come away man, I was ſent to call
thee.

*Lau.* Sir : call me what thou dar'ft.

*Pan.* Wilt thou go.

*Lau.* Well, I will go.

Exeunt.

## Scena Quarta.

*Enter Valentine, Silvia, Thurio, Speed, Duke, Protheus.*

*Sil.* Servant.

*Val.* Miftris.

*Sp.* Maſter, Sir *Thurio* frowns on you.

*Val.* I boy it's for love.

*Sp.* Not of you.

*Val.* Of my Miftris then.

*Sp.* 'Twere good you knockt him.

*Sil.* Servant, yor are ſad.

*Val.* Indeed, Madam, I ſeem ſo.

*Thu.* Seem you that you are not ?

*Val.* Hap'ly I do.

*Thu.* So do Counterfeits.

*Val.* So do you.

*Thu.* What ſeem I that I am not ?

*Val.* Wife.

*Thu.* What inſtance of the contrary ?

*Val.* Your ſolly.

*Thu.* And how quoat you my ſolly ?

*Val.* I quoat it in your Jerken.

*Thu.* My Jerken is a doublet.

*Val.* Well then, Ile double your ſolly.

*Thu.* How ?

*Sil.* What, angry, Sir *Thurio*, do you change colour?

*Val.* Give him leave, Madam, he is a kind of *Camelion*.

*Thu.* That hath more minde to feed on your bleud,
then live in your aire.

*Val.* You have faid Sir.

*Thu.* I Sir, and done too for this time.

*Val.* I know it well fir, you always end ere you begin.

*Sil.* A fine volly of words, gentlemê, & quickly ſhot off.

*Val.* 'Tis indeed, Madam, we thank the giver.

*Sil.* Who is that Servant ?

*Val.* Your ſelf (sweet Lady) for you gave the fire,
Sir *Thurio* borrows his wit from your Ladiflips looks,
And ſpends what he borrows kindly in your company.

*Thu.* Sir, if you ſpend word for word with me, I ſhall
make your wit bankrupt.

*Val.* I know it well fir, you have an Exchequer of words,
And I think, no other treaſure to give your ſollowers :
For it appears by their bare Liveries
That they live by your bare words.

*Sil.* No more, gentlemen, no more :

Here comes my father.

*Duke.* Now, daughter, *Silvia*, you are hard beſer.

*Sir Valentine*, your father is in good health,
What ſay you to a Letter from your friends
Of much good news ?

*Val.* My Lord I will be thenkfull,
To any meſſenger from thence.

*Duke.* Know you *Don Antonio*, your Countriman ?

*Val.* I, my good Lord, I know the Gentleman
To be of worth, and worthy eſtimation,
And not without defert ſo well reputed.

*Duke.* Hath he not a Son ?

*Val.* I my good Lord, a Son ; that well deſerves
The honoor, and regard of ſuch a father.

*Duke.* You know him well ?

*Val.* I knew him as my ſelf: for from our Inſancie
We have converſt, and ſpent our hours together,
And though my ſelf have been an idle Trewant,
Omitting the ſweet benefit of time
To clothe me mine age with Angel-like perfection ;

Yet hath Sir *Protheus* (for that his name)

Made uſe, and fair advantage of his dayes:

His years but young, but his experience old :

His head unmellowed, but his judgement ripe;

And in a word (for far behinde his worth

Comes all the prieſes that I now beſtow.)

C

He

The two Gentlemen of Verona.

26

He is compleat in feature, and in minde,
With all good grace, to grace a Gentleman.

Duk. Before me fir, but if he make this good
He is as worthy for an Emprefs love,
As meet to be an Emperours Councellor :
Well, Sir: this gentleman is come to me.
With Commendation from great Potentates,
And here he means to spend his time a while,
I think 'tis no welcome news to you.

Val. Should I have wifh'd a thing, it had been he.

Duk. Welcome him then according to his worth:

Silvia, I speak to you, and you Sir Thurio,

For Valentine, I need not cite him to it,
I will fend him hither to you prefently.

Val. This is the gentleman I told your Ladifip
Had come along with me, but that his Miftrès
Did hold his eyes, lockt in her Chrifital looks.

Sil. Belike that now she hath enfranchis'd them
Upon fome other pawne for fealty.

Val. Nay fure, I think she holds them prifoners fill.

Sil. Nay then he should be blind, and being blind

How could he fee his way to feek out you ?

Val. Why Lady, Love hath twenty pair of eyes.

Thy. They fay that love hath not an eye at all.

Val. To fee fuch Lovers, Thurio, as your self,

Upon a homely object love can wink.

Enter.

Sil. Have done, have done; here comes the gentleman.

Val. Welcome, deer Protheus: Miftris, I befeech you
Confirm this welcome, with fome special favour,
Sil. His worth is warrant for his welcome hither,

If this be he you oft have wifh'd to hear from.
Val. Miftris, it is: sweet Lady, entertain him
To be my fellow-fervant to your Ladifhip.

Sil. Too low a Miftris for fo high a fervant.

Pro. Not fo, sweet Lady, but too, mean a fervant,

To have a look of fuch a worthy Miftris.

Val. Leave off difcourfe of difabilitie :

Sweet Lady, entertain him for your fervant.

Pro. My dutie will I boast of, nothing else.

Sil. And dutie never yet did want his meed.

Servant, you are welcome to a worthleſs Miftris.

Pro. I'le die on him that faies fo but your felf.

Sil. That you are welcome ?

Pro. That you are worthleſs.

(you,

Thur. Madam, my Lord your father would speak with

Sil. I wait upon his pleafure: Come Sir Thurio,
Go with me: once more, new fervant welcome;
I'le leave you to confer of home affairs,

When you have done, we look to hear from you.

Pro. Wee'! both attend upon your Ladifhip.
Val. Now tell me how do all from whence you came ?

Pro. Your friends are well, and have them much com-

Val. And how do yours?

(mended.

Pro. I left them all in health.

Val. How does your Lady ? and how thrives your love?

Pro. My tales of love were wont to weary you,
I know you joy not in a Love-difcourſe.

Val. I Protheus, but that life is alter'd now,
I have done penance for contemning Love,

With wide high emperious thoughts have punifh'd me
with bitter faſts, with penetential groans,

With nightly tears, and daily heart-fore fig hés,
For in revenge of my contempt of love,

Love hath chaé'd fleep from my enthralled eyes,
And made them watchers of mine own hearts forrow.

O gentle Protheus, Lov's a mighty Lord,

And hath fo humbled me, as I confefs
There is no woe to his correction,

Nor to his ſervice, no fuch joy on earth:

Now, no diſcourſe, except it be of love:

Now can I break my faſt, dine, fup, and ſleep,
Upon the very naked name of love.

Pro. Enough; I read your fortune in your eye:
Was this the Idoll, that you worſhip ſo ?

Val. Even She; and is ſhe not a heavenly Saint ?

Pro. No; But ſhe is an earthly Paragon.

Val. Call her divine.

Pro. I will not flatter her.

Val. O flatter me: for love delights in praeſe.

Pro. When I was ſick, you gave me bitter pills,

And I muſt minifter the like to you.

Val. Then ſpeak the truth by her, if not divine,
Yet let her be a principalitie,

Soveraigne to all the Creatures on the earth.

Pro. Except my Miftris.

Val. Sweet: except not any,
Except thou wilt except againſt my Love.

Pro. Have I not reaſon to prefer mine own ?

Val. And I will help thee to prefer her too;
She ſhall be dignified with this high honour,
To bear my Ladies train, leaſt the bafe earth
Should from her veſture chance to ſteale a kife,
And of ſo great a favour growing proud,
Difdain to root the Summer-ſwellſing flower,
And make rough Winter everlaſtingly.

Pro. Why Valentine, what Bragadifm is this ?

Val. Pardon me (Protheus) all I can is nothing;
To her, whose worth makes other worthies nothing;
She is alone.

Pro. Then let her alone.

Val. Not for the world: why man, ſhe is mine own,
And I as rich in having ſuch a Jewell
As twenty Seas, if all their ſand were pearle,
The water Nectar, and the Rock pure gold.
Forgive me, that I do not dream on thee,
Because thou feeſt me doat upon my love:
My foolifh Rivall that her father likes
(Onely for his poſſeffions are ſo huge)
Is gone with her along, and I muſt after,
For Love (thou know't) is full of jealouſe,

Pro. But ſhe loves you?

(hour,

Val. I, and we are betroached: nay more, our marriage
With all the cunning manner of our flight
Determin'd off: how I muſt climbe her window,
The Ladder made of Cords, and all the means
Plotted, and 'greed on for my happineſs.
Good Protheus, go with me to my chamber,
In theſe affaires to aid me with thy counsel.

Pro. Go on before: I ſhall enquire you forth:
I muſt unto the Road, to diſ-embarque
Some neceſſaries; that I needs muſt uſe,
And then I'le prefently attend you.

Val. Will you make hafe ?

Pro. I will.

Even as one heat, another heat expels,
Or as one nail by ſtrength drives out another :

So the remembrance of my former Love

Is by a new object quite ſorgotten,
Is it mine then, or Valentine ans praeſe ?

Her true perſection, or my falſe tranſgreſſion ?

That makes me reaſonleſs, to reaſon thus ?

She is fair: and ſo is Iulia that I love,

(The

The two Gentlemen of Verona.

## Scena Septima.

### Enter Julia and Lucetta.

Jul. COUNFEL, Lucetta, gentle girl, affift me,
And even in kind love, I doe conjure thee,
Who art the Table wherein all my thoughts
Are vifibly Character'd, and Engrav'd,
To leſſon me, and tell me ſome good mean.
How with my honour I may undertake

A journey to my loving Protheus.

Luc. Alas, the way is weariſome and long.

Jul. A true devoted Pilgrim is not weary

To measure Kingdomes with his feeble ſteps,
Much leſſe ſhall that hath loves wings to flie,
And when the flight is made to one ſo dear,

Of ſuch divine perſectiſs as Sir Protheus.

Luc. Better forbear till Protheus make return.

Jul. Oh, know'ſt thou not, his looks are my ſouls food?
Pity the dearth that I have pined in,

By longing for that food ſo long a time.

Didſt thou but know the inchly touch of Love,
Thou would'ſt it ſoon go kindle fire with ſnow
As ſeek to quench the fire of Love with words.

Luc. I do not ſeek to quench your Loves hot fire,

But qualife the fires extream rage,

Leaſt it ſhould burn above the bounds of reaſon.

Jul. The more thou dam'ſt it up, the more it burns :

The Current that with gentle murmur glides
(Thou know'ſt) being ſtop'd, impatiently doth rage :

But when his fair course is not hindered,

He makes ſweet muſick with the enameld ſtones,
Giving a gentle kiffle to every ſedge

He overtaketh in his pilgrimage.

And ſo by many winding nooks he ſtrayes
With willing ſport to the wild Ocean.

Then let me go, and hinder not my course :

I'le be as patient as a gentle ſtream,

And make a paſtine of each weary ſtep,

Till the laſt ſtep have brought me to my Love,

And there I'le reſt, as after much turmoil

A bleſſed foul doth in Elizium.

Luc. But in what habit will you go along ?

Jul. Not like a woman, for I would prevent

T he looke encounters of laſcivious men :

Gentle Lucetta, fit me with ſuch weeds

As may beſeem ſome well reputed Page.

Luc. Why then your Ladieſhip muſt cut your hair.

Jul. No girl, I'le knit it up in ſilken ſtrings,

With twenty od-conceited true-love knots :

To be fantaſtick, may become a youth

Of greater time then I ſhall how to be.

(ches ?

Luc. What ſaſhion (Madam) ſhall I make your bree-

Jul. That fits as well, as tell me (good my Lord)

What compaſſe will you wear your Farthingale ?

Why even what ſaſhion thou beſt likes (Lucetta.)

Luc. You muſt needs have them with a cod-piece (Ma-

Jul. Out, cut (Lucetta) that will be ill-favor'd. (dam

Luc. A round hofe (Madam) now's not worth a pin

Unleſſe you have a cod-piece to ſtick pins on.

Jul. Lucetta, as thou lov'ſt me let me have.

What thou think'ſt meet, and is moſt manerly,

But tell me (wench) how will the world repute me

For undertaking ſo unſtaid a journey ?

I fear me it will make me ſcandaliz'd.

Luc. If you think ſo, then ſtay at home and go not,

Jul. Nay, that I will not.

Luc. Then never dream on Infamy, but go :

If Protheus like your journey when you come,

No matter who's diſpleas'd when you are gone :

I fear me he will ſcarce be pleas'd withall.

Jul. That is the leaſt (Lucetta) of my fear :

A thouſand oathes, an Ocean of his tears

And inſtances as infinite of Love,

Warrant me welcome to my Protheus.

Luc. All theſe are ſervants to deceitfull men.

Jul. Bafe men, that uſe them to ſo bafe effect ;

But truer ſtars did govern Protheus birth,

His words are bonds, his oathes are oracles,

His love ſincere, his thoughts immaculate,

His tears pure meſſengers, ſent from his heart,

His heart as far from fraud, as heaven from earth.

Luc. Pray heaven he prove ſo when you come to him.

Jul. Now, as thou lov'ſt me, do him not that wrong,

To bear a hard opinion of his truth :

Onely defer my love, by loving him,

And prefently go with me to my chamber

To take a note of what I ſtand in need of,

To furniſh me upon my longing journey :

All that is mine I leave at thy diſpoſe,

My goods, my Lands, my reputation,

Onely in lieu thereof, diſpatch me hence :

Come ; anſwer not : but to it prefently,

I am impatient of my trarriance.

Exeunt.

## Actus Tertius. Scena Prima.

### Enter Duke, Thurio, Protheus, Valentine, Launce, Speed.

Duk, Sir Thurio, give us leave (I pray) awhile,

We have ſome ſecrets to confer about.

Now tell me Protheus, what's your will with me ?

Pro. My gracious Lord, that which I would diſcover,

The law of friendiſhip bids me to conceal,

But when I call to mind your gracious favours

Done to me (undefefying as I am)

My duty pricks me on to utter that

Which eſſe no worldly good ſhould draw from me :

Know (worthy Prince) Sir Valentine my friend

This night intends to ſteal away your daughter :

My ſelf am one made privy to the plot.

I know you have determin'd to beſtow her

On Thurio, whom your gentle daughter hates ;

And should the thus be ſoln away from you,

It would be much vexation to your age.

Thus (for my duties ſake) I rather chose

To croſſe my friend in his intended drift,

Then (by concealing it) heap on your head

A pack of forrowrs, which would preſſe you down

(Being unprepared) to your timeleſſe grave.

Duk, Protheus, I thank thee for thine honeſt care,

Which to requite, command me while I live.

This love of theirs, my ſelf have often seen,

Happily when they have judg'd me ſaſt aſleep,

And oftentimes have purpos'd to forbid

Sir

The two Gentlemen of Verona.

Sir *Valentine* her company, and my Court.
But fearing leapt my jealous aime might erre,
And so (unworthily) difgrace the man
*(A rahneffelle that I ever yet have flunk'd)*

I gave him gentle looks, thereby to find

That which thy self haſt now diſclos'd to me,

And thou maſt perceive my fear of this,

Knowing that tender youth is ſoon ſuggedted,
I nightly lodge her in an upper Tower,

The key whereof my ſelf have ever kept :

And thence ſhe cannot be convey'd away.

*Pro.* Know (noble Lord) they have deviſ'd a mean
How he her Chamber window will affend,

And with a Corded Ladder fetch her down :

For which, the youthfull Lover now is gone,

And this way comes he with it prefently.

Where (if it pleafe you) you may intercept him.

But (good my Lord) doe it ſo cunningly

That my diſcovery not aimed at :

For, love of you, not hate unto my friend,

Hath made me publifher of this pretence.

*Duk.* Upon my honour, he ſhall never know
That I had any light from thee of this.

*Pro.* Adieu, my Lord, Sir *Valentine* is comming. Enter.

*Duk.* Sir *Valentine*, whether away ſo faſt ?

*Va.* Pleafe it your Grace, there is a Meſſenger

That ſlayes to bear my Letters to my friends,

And I am going to deliver them.

*Duk.* Be they of much import ?

*Val.* The tenure of them doth but ſignifie

My health, and happy being at your Court.

*Duk.* Nay then no matter : ſlay with me awhile,

I am to break with thee of ſome affairs

That touch me near : wherein thou muſt be ſecret

'Tis not unknown so thee, that I have ſought

To match my friend Sir *Thurio*, to my daughter.

*Val.* I know it well (my Lord) and ſure the Match

Were rich and honourable : befides, the gentleman

Is full of Virtue, Bounty, Worth, and Qualities

Bec馀ing ſuch a Wife, as your fair daughter :

Cannot your Grace win her to fancy him ?

*Duk.* No, truſt me, She is preeſuſh, ſullen, ſroward,

Proud, diſobedient, ſtubborn, lacking duty,

Neither regarding that ſhe is my child,

Nor fearing me, as if I were her Father :

And may I ſay to thee, this pride of hers

(Upon advice) hath drawn my love from her,

And where I thought the remnant of mine age

Should have been cheriſh'd by her child-like duty,

I now am full refolv'd to take a wife,

And turn her out to who will take her in :

Then let her beauty be her wedding Dowre :

For me and my poſſeffions ſhe eſteems not.

*Val.* What would your Grace have me to do in this?

*Duk.* There is a Lady in Verona here

Whom I affect : but ſhe is nice, and coy,

And nought eſteems my aged eloquence.

Now therefore would I have thee to my Tutor

(For long agone I have forgot to court ;

Befides the ſashion of the time is chang'd)

How, and which way I may beſtow my ſelf

To be regarded in her fun-bright eye.

*Va.* Win her with gifts, if the reſpect not words,
Dumb Jewels often in their ſilent kind

More then quick words, doe move a wonians mind.

*Duk.* But ſhe did ſcorn a prefent that I ſent her,

*Val.* A woman ſometimes ſcons what ſott contents
Send her another : never give her o're,
(her.

For ſcorn at ſuſt makes after-love the more.

If ſhe do frown, 'tis not in hate of you,

But rather to beget more love in you.

If ſhe doe chide, 'tis not to have you gone,

For why, the fools are mad, if left alone.

Take no repulſe, whatever ſhe doeth ſay,

For, get you gone, ſhe doth not mean away.

Flatter, and prieſe, commend, extoll their graces :

Though ne're ſo black, ſay they have Angels faces,

That man that hath a tongue, I ſay is no man,

If with his tongue he cannot win a woman.

*Duk.* But ſhe I mean, is promis'd by her friends

Unto a youthfull Gentleman of worth,

And kept feverely from reſort of men,

That no man hath acceſſe by day to her.

*Val.* Why then I would reſort to her by night.

*Duk.* I, but the doors be lockt, and keys kept ſafe,

That no man hath recourse to her by night.

*Val.* What lets but one may enter at her Window ?

*Duk.* Her Chamber is aloſt far from the ground,

And built ſo ſhelving, that one cannot climbe it

Without apparent hazard of his life.

*Val.* Why then a Ladder quarily made of Cords

To caſt up, with a pair of anchoring hooks,

Would ſerve to ſcale another *Hero's* Tower,

So bold *Leander* would adventure it.

*Duk.* Now as thou art a Gentleman of blood

Advife me, where I may have ſuch a Ladder,

*Val.* When would you uſe it ? pray fir, tell me that:

*Duk.* This very night; for Love is like a child

That longs for every thing that he can come by.

*Val.* By ſeven a clock, I'le get you ſuch a Ladder,

*Duk.* But hark thee : I will go to her alone,

How ſhall I beſt convey the Ladder thither?

*Val.* It will be light (my Lord) that you may bear it

Under a Cloak, that is of any length.

*Duk.* A Cloak as long as thine will ſerve the turn ?

*Val.* I my good Lord.

*Duk.* Then let me fee thy Cloak,

I'le get me one of ſuch another length.

*Val.* Why any Cloak will ſerve the turn (my Lord)

*Duk.* How ſhall I fashion me to wear a Cloak ?

I pray thee let me feel thy Cloak upon me.

What Letter is this fame ? what's here ? to *Silvia* ?

And here an Engine fit for my proceeding,

I'le be ſo bold to break the ſeal for once.

*My thoughts do harbour with my Silvia nightly,*

*And flaves they are to me, that ſend them flying.*

*Oh, could their Maſter come, and go as lightely,*

*Himſelf would lodge, where (ſenſeleſſe) they are lying.*

*My Herald Thoughts, in thy pure boſome reſt-them,*

*While I (their King) that thither them importune.*

*Do curſe the grace that with ſuch grace hath bleſſ them,*
*Because my ſelfe doe want my ſervants fortune.*

*I curſe my ſelf, for they are ſent by me,*

*That they ſhould harbour where their Lord would be.*

*What's here ? *Silvia* ? this night I will *infranchiſe thee.*

'Tis ſo : and here's the Ladder for the purpofe.

*Why Phaeton (for thou art *Merops* ſon)*

Wilt thou afpire to guide the heavenly Cat ?

And with thy daring folly burn the world ?

Wilt thou reach ſtars, because they ſhine on thee ?

C. 3

Go

The two Gentlemen of Verona.

Pro. And that (my Lord) I shall be loath to do.
'Tis an ill office for a Gentleman,
Especially against his very friend.

Du. Where your good word cannot advantage him,
Your flander never can endammage him;
Therefore the office is indifferent:
Being intreated to it by your friend.

Pro. You have prevail'd (my Lord) if I can do it
By ought that I can speak in his dispraishe,
She shall not long continue love to him:
But fay, this weed her love from Valentine,
It follows not that she will love fir Thurio.

Th. Therefore as you unwinde her love from him;
Leaft it should ravel, and be good to none,
You muft provide to bottome it on me :
Which muft be done, by Praising me as much
As you in worth dispraishe fir Valentine.

Du. And Protheus, we dare trust you in this kinde,
Because we know (on Valentines report)
You are already loves firm votary,

And cannot foone revolt, and change your minde.
Upon this warrant, shall you have acceds,
Where you, with Silvia may confer at large.

For she is lumpish, heavy, melancholly,
And (for your friends fake) will be glad of you ;
Where you may temper her, by your perfwation,
To hate young Valentine, and love my friend.

Pro. As much as I can do, I will effect :
But you fir Thurio, are not sharp enough :
You muft lay Lime, to tangle her desires

By waifull Sonnets, whole compoſed Rimes

Should be full fraught with ſervicable vows,

Du. I, much is the force of heaven-bred Pœſie.

Pro. Say that upon the altar of her beauty
You facrifice your tears, your fighes, your heart :
Write till your ink be dry; and with your tears

Moift it again: and frame fome feeling line,

That may discover such integrity :

For Orpheus Luce was ſtrung with Poets ſnows,
Whole golden touch could soften ſteele and ſlones;
Make Tygers tame, and huge Leviathans

Forſake unfounded deeps, and dance on Sands.

After your dire-lamenting Elegies,

Vifit by night your Ladies chamber-window

With ſome sweet comfort; To their Inſtruments

Tune a deploring dump: the nights dead ſilence

Will well become ſuch sweet complaining grievance :

This, or eſſe nothing, will inherit her.

Du. This discipline, ſhews thou haſt been in love.

Th. And thy advice, this night, I'le put in præſtife :
Therefore ſweet Protheus, my direction-giver,
Let us into the City p[ro]ſently

To fort ſome Gentlemen, well skil'd in Muſick.

I have a Sonnet, that will ſerve the turn

To give the on-fet to thy good advice.

Du. About it Gentlemen.

Pro. We'll wait upon your Grace, till after Supper,
And afterward determine our proceedings.

Du. Even now about it, I will pardon you, Exeunt.

Actus Quartus. Scena Prima.

Enter Valentine, Speede, and certain Out-laws.

1. Out-l. Fellows, ſtand faſt : I fee a paſſenger.

2. Out. If there be ten, ſhrink not, but down with'em.

3. Out. Stand fir, and throw us that you have about'ye.
If not: we'll make you fir, and rifle you.

Sp. Sir, we are undone; theſe are the Villains
That all the Travellers do fear ſo much.

Val. My friends,

1. Out. That's not ſo, fir: we are your enemies,

2. Out. Peace: we'll hear him.

3. Out. I by my beard w[ill] we: for he is a proper man,
Val. Then know that I have little to loſe ;

A man I am, croſſ'd with adverſitie :

My riches, are theſe poor habiliments,
Of which, if you should here disſurniſh me,
You take the ſum and ſubſtance that I have.

2. Out. Whither travel you ?

Val. To Verona.

1. Out. Whence came you ?

Val. From Millain.

3. Out. Have you long ſojourn'd there ? (flaid,

Val. Some fixteen moneths, and longer might have
If crooked fortune had not thwarted me.

1. Out. What, were you baniſh'd thence ?

Val. I was.

2. Out. For what offence ?

Val. For that which now torments me to rehearſe ;

I kil'd a man, whole death I much repent,

But yet I flew him manfully in fight,
Without falſe vantage, or bafe treachery.

1. Out. Why were nere repent it, if it were done ſo ;

But were you baniſh'd for ſo finall a ſault ?

Val. I was, and held me glad of ſuch a doom.

2. Out. Have you the tongues ?

Val. My youthfull travel, therein made me happy,

Or eſſe often had been niſerable.

3. Out. By the bare ſalpe of Robin hoods fat Fryer,
This fellow were a King, for our wild ſaſtio[n]e.

1. Out. We'll have him: Sirs, a word,

Sp. After, be one of them :

It's an honourable kind of thievery.

Val. Peace villain.

2. Out. Tell us this: have you any things to take to?

Val. Nothing but my fortune.

3. Out. Know then, that ſome of us are Gentlemen,
Such as the ſurie of ungovern'd youth

I'fruſt from the company of an awfull men.

My ſelf was from Verona banſhed,

For præſting to ſteal away a Lady,

An heir, and Neice allide unto the Duke.

2. Out. And I from Mantua, for a gentleman,
Who, in my moode, I ſtab'd unto the heart.

1. Out. And I, for ſuch like petty crimes as theſe.
But to the purpofe: for we cite our ſaults,

That they may hold excas'd our lawleſs lives;

And partly feeing you are beautiſt'de

With goodly ſhape; and by your own report,

A Linguift, and a man of ſuch perſection,

As we do in our quality much want.

2. Out. Indeed because you are a baniſh'd man,
There, above the reſt, we parley to you :

Are you content to be our general ?

To make a vertue of neceſſitie,

And live as we do in the wilderneſs ?

3. Out. What faiſt thou? wilt thou be of our confort?
Say I, and be the captain of us all :

We'll do thee homage, and be rul'd by thee,

Love thee as our Commander, and our King.

1. Out

The two Gentlemen of Verona.

34

Pro. I likewise hear that Valentine is dead.
Sil. And so fuppote am I; for in his grave
Afflure thy self, my love is buried.
Pro. Sweet Lady, let me rake it from the earth.
Sil. Go to thy Ladies grave and call her thence,
Or at the leaſt,, in hers, ſepulchre thine.
Iul. He heard not that.
Pro. Madam: if your heart be so obdurate:
Vouchsafe me yet your Picture for my love,
The Picture that is hanging in your chamber:
To that I'le ſpeak, to that I'le ſigh and weep:
For ſince the ſubſtance of your perſeſt ſelf
Is eſſe devoted, I am but a ſhadow;
And to your ſhadow, will I make true love.
Iul. If it were a ſubſtance you would ſure deceive it,
And make it but a ſhadow, as I am.

Sil. I am very loath to be your Idol Sir;
But, ſince your falſehood ſhall become you well
To worſhip ſhadows, and adore falſe ſhapes,
Send to me in the morning, and I'le fend it:
And so, good reſt.

Pro. As wretches have ore-night
That wait for execution in the morne.

Exeunt.

Iul. Hoc, will you go ?

Ho. By my hallidome, I was ſaſt aſſleep.

Iul. Pray you where lies Sir Protheus ?

Ho. Marry at my houſe :

Trauſt me, I think 'tis almost day.

Iul. Not to: but it hath been the longeſt night
That ere I watch'd, and the moſt heavyſt.

Exeunt.

## Scena Tertia.

Enter Eglamore, Silvia.

Eg. This is the hour that Madam Silvia
Entreated me to call, and know her minde :
That's fome great matter ſhe'd employ me in,
Madam, Madam.

Sil. Who calls ?

Eg. Your ſervant. and your friend ;

One that attends your Ladilíphs command,

Sil. Sir Eglamore, a thouſand times good morrow.

Eg. As many (worthy Lady) to your ſelf:

According to your Ladilíphs impoſe,

I am thus early come, to know what ſervicè,

It is your pleasure to command me in,

Sil. Oh Eglamore, thou art a Gentleman :
Think not I flatter ( for I ſwear I do not)

Valiant, wife, remorſe-full, well accomplilſh'd.

Thy ſelf haſt lov'd, and I have heard thee ſay

No grief did come to near thy heart,

I bear unto the banilſh'd Valentine :

Nor how my father would enforce me marry

Vain Thurio (whom my very ſoul abhor'd)

As when thy Lady, and thy true-love di'd,

Upon whose Grave thou vow'dſt pure chaſtitie ;

Sir Eglamore : I would to Valentine

To Mantua, where I hear, he makes abroad ;

And for the wayes are dangerous to pafs ;

I do define thy worthy company,

Upon whoſe faith and honour, I repofe.

Urge not my fathers anger (Eglamore)

But think upon my grief (a Ladies grief)

And on the juſtice of my flying hence,

To keep me from a moſt unholy match,

Which heaven and fortune ſtill rewards with plagues,

I do define thee, even from a heart

As full of forrows, as the Sea of lands,

To bear me company and go with me :

If not, to hide what I have ſaid to thee,

That I may venture to depart alone.

Eg. Madam, I pitty much your grievances,
Which, ſince I know they vertuouſly are plac'd,
I give confent to go along with you,
Wrecking as little what betideth me,
As much, I with all good beſtortune you.
When will you go?

Sil. This evening coming.

Eg. Where ſhall I meet you ?

Sil. At Frier Patricks Cell,

Where I intend holy conſeſſion.

Eg. I will not fail your Ladilíph:

Good morrow (gentle Lady.)

Sil. Good morrow, kind Sir Eglamore.

Exeunt.

## Scena Quarta.

Enter Launce, Protheus, Iulia, Silvia.

Lau. When a man's ſervant ſhall play the Cur with
him (look you) it goes hard: one that I brought up of
a puppy: one that I lov'd from drowning, when three or
four of his blinde brothers and fifters went to it: I have
taught him (even as one would ſay precifely, thus I
would teach a dog) I was ſent to deliver him, as a pre-
fent to Miftris Silvia, from my Maſter; and I camenco
fooner into the dyning-chamber, but he ſteps me to her
Trencher, and ſteals her Capons-leg: O, 'tis a ſoule
thing, when a Cur cannot keep himſelf in all compa-
nies: I would have (as one ſhould ſay) one that takes up-
on him to be a dog indeed, to be, as it were, a dog at all
things. If I had not had more wit then he, take a ſault
upon me that he did, I think verily he had been hang'd
for't: ſure as I live he had ſuffer'd for't: you ſhall judge:
He thrauſes me himſelf into the company of three or
four gentleman-like-dogs, under the Dukes table: he
had not been there (bleſſe the marke) a pifſing white, but
all the chamber ſmelt him: out with the dog (faies one)
what cur is that (faies another) whip him out (faies the
third) hang him up (faies the Duke.) I having been ac-
quainted with the ſmell before, knew it was Crab; and
goes me to the fellow that whips the dogges: friend
(quoth I) you mean to whip the dog: I marry do I
(quoth he) you do him the more wrong (quoth I) 'twas
I did the thing you wot of: he makes me no more adoe,
but whips me out of the chamber: how many Maſters
would do this for his ſervant ? nay, I'le be ſworne I have
fat in the ſtocks for puddings he hath ſtoſn, otherwise
he had been executed: I have ſtood on the Pillorie for
Geefe he hath kiſd, otherwise he had ſuffered for't: thou
think'ſt not of this now: nay, I remember the trick you
ferv'd me, when I took my leave of Madam Silvia: did not

The two Gentlemen of Verona.

37

We must bring you to our Captain.

Sil. A thousand more milchances then this one
Have learn'd me how to brook this patiently.

2 Out. Come, bring her away.

1 Out. Where is the Gentleman that was with her.

3 Out. Being nimble footed, he hath out-run us.

But *Moyse* and *Valerius* follow him :

Go thou thither to the Weft end of the Wood,
There is our Captain : we'll follow him that's fled,
The thicket is beset, he cannot escape.

1 Out. Come, I must bring you to our Captains, Cave.

Fear not : he bears an honourable mind,
And will not use a woman lawfully.

Sil. O Valentine : this I endure for thee.

Exeunt.

## Scena Quarta.

Enter Valentine, Protheus, Silvia, Julia, Duke.
Thurio, Out-lawes.

Val. How use doth breed a habit in a man ?

This shadowy Defiant, unfrequented woods,
I better brook then flourishing peopled townes :

Here can I fit alone, unseen of any,
And to the Nightingales complaining Notes :
Tune my difficulties, and record my woes.

O thou that doft inhabit in my breft,
Leave not the Manifold so long Tenantleffe,

Left growing ruinous, the building fall ;

And leave no memory of what it was,
Repair me with thy prefence, Silvia :

Thou Gentle Nymph, cherish thy forlorn Swain.

What hallowing, and what ſtirre is this to day ?

Thefe are my mates, that make their wills their Law,
Have fome unhappy paſſenger in chafe ;

They love me well, yet I have much to doe

To keep them from uncivil outrages.

Withdraw thee Valentine : who's this comes here ?
Pro. Madam, this ſervice I have done for you,

(Though you reſpect not ought your ſervant doth)

To hazard life, and reſcue you from him,

That would have forſe'd your honour and your love,
Vouchſaſe me for my meed, but one fair look :

(A fmaller boon than this I cannot beg,

And leſſe than this I am ſure you cannot give.)

Val. How like a dream is this ? I fee and hear :
Love, lend me patience to forbear a while.

Sil. O miſerable unhappy that I am.

Pro. Unhappy were you (Madam) ere I came :

But by my comming I have made you happy.

Sil. By thy approach thou mak'st me moſt unhappy.

Iu. And me, when he approacheth to your preſence.

Sil. Had I been ſeized by a hungry Lion,
I would have been a breakſaſt to the Beaſt,
Rather than have falſe Protheus reſcue me :

O heaven be judge how I love Valentine,
Whofe life's as tender to me as my foul,
And full of much (for more there cannot be)
I doe detreſſe falſe perjur'd Protheus :

Therefore be gone, ſolict me no more.

Pro. What dangerous action, ſtood it next to death,
Would I not undergo for one calme look :
Oh, 'tis the curſe in Love, and ſtill approv'd,

When women cannot love, where they're belov'd,

Sil. When Protheus cannot love, where he's belov'd :
Read over Iulia's heart, (thy firſt beſt Love)

For whoſe dear fake thou didſt then rend thy faith
Into a thouſand oathes; and all thatothes,

Defcended into perjury to deceive me,
Thou haſt no faith left now, unleſſe thou'd ſt two,

And that's far worſe than none: better have none
Then plural faith, which is too much by one :

Thou counterfeit to thy true friend.

Pro. In love,

Who reſpects friend?

Sil. All men but Protheus.

Pro. Nay, if the gentle ſpirit of moving words
Can no way change you to a milder ſorm ;
I'll move you like a Soldier, at armes end,

And love you 'gainſt the nature of love : force ye.

Sil. Oh heaven,

Pro. I'll force thee yield to my deſire.

Val. Ruffian let go that rude uncivil touch,
Thou friend of an ill fashion.

Pro. Valentine!

Val. Thou common friend, that's without faith or love,
For that is a friend now : Though treacherous man,

Thou haſt beguil'd my hopes; nought but mine eye

Could have perſwaded me : now I dare not ſay

I have one friend alive : thou would'ſt diſprove me :

Who should be truſted now, when ones right hand

Is perjured to the boſome ? Protheus,

I am forry I must never truſt thee more,

But count the world a ſtranger for thy fake :

The private wound is deſeſt: oh time, moſt accuſt :

'Mongſt all foes, that a friend ſhould be the worſt ?

Pro. My ſhame and guilt confounds me :

Forgive me Valentine : if hearty ſorrow

Be a ſufficient Ranſome for offence,

I tender't here : I doe as truly ſuffer,

As e're I did commit.

Val. Then am I paid :

And once again, I doe receive thee honef;

Who by repentance is not ſatisfied,

Is nor of heaven, nor earth; for theſe are pleas'd :

By Penitence th'Eternal's wrath's appears'd :

And that my love may appear plain and free,

All that was mine in Silvia, I give thee.

Iu. Oh me unhappy.

Pro. Look to the Boy.

Val. Why, Boy ?

Why Wag: how now? what's the matter ? look up : ſpeak.

Iu. O good Sir, my Maſter charg'd me to deliver a Ring
to Madam Silvia : which (out of my neglect) was never

Pro. Where is that Ring, Boy ?

(done.

Iu. Here 'tis: this is it.

Pro. How ? let me fee.

Why this is the Ring I gave to Iulia.

Iu. Oh, cry your ſeruy fir, I have miſtook :

This is the Ring you ſent to Silvia.

Pro. But how cam't thou by this Ring ? at my depart

I gave this unto Iulia.

Iu. And Iulia her ſelf did give it me,

And Iulia her ſelf hath brought it hither.

Pro. How ? Iulia ?

Iu. Behold her that gave aim to all thy oathes,
And entertain'd'em deeply in her heart.

How oft haſt thou with perjury cleft the root ?

Oh Protheus, let this habit make thee bluſh.

D

Be

The two Gentlemen of Verona.

B: thou aſham'd that I have took upon me,
Such an immodeſt rayment : if ſhame live
In a diſguſe of love?

It is the leſſer blot modeſty finds,

Women to change their ſhapes, than men their minds.

Pro. Than men their minds? 'tis true, oh heaven, were
Man but conſtant, he were perſect; that one exhou
Fills him with faults: makes him run through all th'ins;
Inconſtancy falls off ere it begins:

What is in Silvia's face, but I may ſpie

More fresh in Julia's with a conſtant eye ?

Val. Come, come : a hand from either :
Let me be bleſt to make this happy cloſe :

'Twere pity two ſuch friends ſhould be long foes.

Pro. Bear witnessleſe (heaven) I have my will for ever.

Iul. And I mine.

Out-l. A prize, a prize, a prize.

Val. Forbear, forbear I ſay: it is my Lord the Duke.

Your grace is welcome to a man diſgrac'd,
Banifhed Valentine.

Duke. Sir Valentine?

Thu. Yonder is Silvia ; and Silvia's mine.

Val. Thurio give back ; or else imbrace thy death :

Come not within the mcaſure of my wrath :
Doe not name Silvia thine : if once again,
Verona shall not hold thee: here ſhe stands,
Take but poſſection of her, with a Touch :
I dare thee, but to breathe upon my Love.

Thur. Sir Valentine, I care not for her, I:
I hold him but a fool that will endanger
His body, for a Girl that loves him not :
I claim her not, and therefore ſhe is thine.

Duk. The more degenerate and base art thou,
To make ſuch means for her as thou haſt done,
And leave her on ſuch flight conditions,

Now, by the honour of my Anceſtry,
I doe applaud thy ſpirit Valentine,

And think thee worthy of an Empreſſe love :
Know then, I here forget all former griefs,
Cancell all grudge, repeal the home again,
Plead a new ſtate in thy arrival'd merit,

To which I thus ſubſcribe : Sir Valentine,
Thou art a Gentleman and well deriv'd,
Take thy Silvia, for thou haſt deferv'd her.

Val. I thank your grace, the gift hāth made me hap-
I now beſeech you (for your Daughters ſake)
To grant one Boon that I ſhall aske of you.

Duke. I grant it for thine own what ere it be.

Val. Theſe banifh'd men, that I have kept withall,
Are men endu'd with worthy qualities:

Forgive them what they have committed here,
And let them be recall'd from their exile :
They are reform'd, civil, full of good,

And fit for great employment (worthy Lord.)

Duk. Thou haſt prevail'd, I pardon them and thee :
Dipſpofe of them, as thou knowſt their deferts,
Come, let us go, we will include all jarrs,
With Triumphs, Mirth, and all Solemnity.

Val. And as we walk along, I dare be bold
With our diſcourſe, to make your grace to ſmile.
What think you of this Page (my Lord?)

Duk. I think the Boy hath grace in him, he bluſhes.

Val. I warrant you (my Lord) more grace then Boy.

Duk. What mean you by that ſaying ?

Val. Pleafe you, I'll tell you as we paffe along,
That you will wonder what hath fortuned :
Come Protheus, 'tis your penance but to hear
The ſtory of your Loves diſcovered.

That done, our day of marriage ſhall be yours,
One ſeaf't, one houſe, one mutuall happineſſe.

Exeunt.

The Names of the Actours.

Duke: Father to Silvia.

Valentine.

Protheus. The two Gentlemen.

Anthony: Father to Protheus.

Thurio: a fooliſh rivall to Valentine.

Eglamore: Agent for Silvia in her eſcape.

Hoſt, where Iulia lodges.

Out-lawes with Valentine.

Speed: A clowniſh ſervant to Valentine.

Launce, the like to Protheus,

Panthion: ſervant to Antonio.

Iulia: beloved of Protheus.

Silvia: beloved of Valentine.

Lucetta: VVaiting-woman to Iulia.

F I N I S.

THE
Merry Wives of WINDSOR.

Actus Primus. Scena Prima.

Enter Justice Shallow, Slender, Sir Hugh Evans, Master Page, Falstaffe, Bardolph Nym, Pistoll, Anne Page, Mistris Ford, Mistris Page, Simple.

Shallow.

It Hugh, perfwade me not: I will make a Star-Chamber matter of it, if he were twenty Sir John Falstaffe, he shall not abuse Robert Shallow, Enquire.

(Coram.

Slen. In the County of Gloceſter, Jüſtice of Peace, and
Shal. I (Couſin Slender) and Cuff-alorum

Sl. I, and Rato-lorum too; and Gentleman born (Master Parfon) who writes himſelf Armigero, in any Bill, Warrant, Quittance, or Obligation, Armigero.

Shal. I that I do, and have done any time theſe three hundred years.

Slen. All his Succerſors (gone before him) have don't: and all his Anceſters (that came after him) may: they may give the dozen white Luces in their Coat.

Shal. It is an old Coat.

Evans. The dozen white Lowſes do become an old Coat well: it agrees well paffant: it is a familiar beaſt to man, and ſignifies Love.

Shal. The Luce is the freſh-ſiſh, the falſtſiſh, is an old Coat.

Slen. I may quarter (Coz.)

Shal. You may, by marrying.

Evans. It is marrying indeed, if he quarter it.

Shal. Not a whit.

Evans. Yes per-lady: if he has a quarter of your Coat, there is but three skirts for your ſelf, in my ſimple conjec-tures: but that is all one: if Sir John Falſtaſſe h ve committed diſparagements unto you, I am of the Church and will be glad to do my benevolence, to make atone-ments and compremifes between you.

Shal. The council ſhall hear it, it is a Riot.

Evans. It is not meet the Council hear of a Riot: there is no fear of Got in a Riot: The Council (look you) ſhall define to hear the fear of Got, and not to hear a Riot: take you viza-ments in that.

Shal. Ha; o' my life, if I were young again, the ſword ſhould end it.

Evans. It is petter that friends is the ſword, and end it: and there is alſo another device in my prain, which peradventure prings good diſcreſtions with it. There is Anne Page, which is daughter to Maſter Thomas Page, which is pretty virginity.

Slen. Mistris Anne Page? ſhe has brown hair, and ſpeaks like a woman.

Evans. I is that ferry perfon for all the orld, as juſt as you will define, and ſeven hundred pounds of monies, and gold, and filver, is her Grandſire upon his deaths-bed, (Got deliver to a joyfull Refuſection) give, when ſhe is able to overtake ſeventeen years old. It were a good motion, if we leave our pribbles and prabbles, and define a marriage between Maſter Abraham, and Mistris Anne Page.

Slen. Did her Grandſire leave her ſeven hundred pound?

Evans. I, and her Father is make her a petter penny.

Slen. I know the young Gentlewoman, ſhe has good gifts.

Evans. Seven hundred pounds, and poffibility is goot gifts.

Shal. Well let us fee honeſt Mr. Page: is Falſtaſſe there?

Evans. Shall I tell you a lie? I do deſpite a liar, as I do deſpife one that is falſe, or as I deſpife one that is not true: the Knight Sir John is there, and I beſeech you be ruled by your well-willers: I will peat the door for Maſter Page. What hoa? Got bleſſe your house here.

M. Page. Who's there?

Evans. Here is Got's pleſing and your friend, and Juſtice Shallow, and here's young Maſter Slender: that peradventures (hall tell you another tale, if matters grow to your likings.

Mr. Page. I am glad to fee your Worſhips well: I thank you for your Venifon, Maſter Shallow.

Shal. Maſter Page, I am glad to fee you: much good do it your good heart: I with'd your Venifon better, it was ill kill'd: how doth good Mistris Page? and I thank you always with my heart, la: with my heart.

Mr. Page. Sir, I thank you.

Shal. Sir, I thank you: by yea and no I do.

M. Page. I am glad to fee you good Maſter Slender.

Slen. How do's your fallow Greyhound, Sir, I heard ſay he was out-run on Corſale.

M. Page. It could not be judg'd fir.

Slen. You'll not conſeſſe, you'll not conſeſſe.

Shal. That he will not, 'tis your fault, 'tis your fault: 'tis a good dog.

M. Page. A Cur fir.

Shal. Sir, he's a good Dog, and a fair Dog, can there be more faid? he is good and fair. Is Sir John Falſtaſſe here?

M. Page. Sir, he is within; and I would I could do a good office between you.

Evans. It is ſpoke as a Chriſtians ought to ſpoke,

Shal. He hath wrong'd me (Maſter Page.)

M. Page. Sir, he doth in ſome fort conſeſſe it.

D 2

Shal.

The Merry Wives of Windsor.

45

Ford. Good mine Hott o’th’Garter: a word with you.

Holt. What say’st thou, my Bully-Rook?

Shal. Will you go with us to behold it ? My merry Hott hath had the meafuring of their weapons ; and (I think) hath appointed them contrary places : for ( believe me ) I hear the Parfon is no Jefter : harke, I will tell you what our sport shall be.

Holt. Haft thou no suit againft my Knight ? my guest-Cavalier ?

Shal. None, I protest : but I’le give you a potte of burn’d Sack, to give me recourse to him, and tell him my name is Brooms : onely for a jef.

Holt. My hand, ( Bully : ) thou haft have egrrels and regreis, (said I well ? ) and thy name shall be Broom. It is a merry Knight: will you go An-heis ?

Shal. Have with you mine Hott.

Page. I have heard the French-man hath good skill in his Rapier.

Shal. Tut Sir, I could have told you more : in thefe times you stand on diftance : your Paffes, Stoccado’s, and I know not what : ’tis the Heart (Mafter Page) ’tis here, ’tis here : I have seen the time, with my long-fword, I would have made you four tall fellows skip like Rats.

Holt. Here Boyes, here : shall we wag ?

Page. Have with you : I had rather here them foid, then fight.

Ford. Though Page be a fecure fool, and fands fo firmly on his wives frailty ; yet, I cannot put-off my opinion fo easily : he was in his company at Page’s house : and what they made look : I know not. Well, I will look further into’t, and I have a difguife , to found Falſaffe ; if I find her honeſt, I love not my labour : if she be other-wife, ’tis labour well beftowed.

Exeunt.

## Scena Secunda.

Enter Falſaffe, Pistol, Robin, Quickly, Bar-dolph, Ford.

Fal. I will not lend thee a penny.

Pistol. Why the world’s mine Oyſter, which I, with Sword will open.

Fal. Not a penny : I have been content (Sir) you should lay my countenance to pawn : have grated upon my good friends for three Reprievs for you, and your Coach-fellow Nim ; or else you had look’d through the Grate, like a Gemini of Baboons : I am damn’d not hell, for ſwearing to Gentlemen my friends, you were good Souldiers, and tall fellows. And when Miftres’s Bridget left the handle of her Fan, I took’t upon mine honour thou had’st it not.

Pistol. Did’ft thou not ſhare ? had’ft thou not fifteen pence ?

Fal. Reaſon, you rogue, reaſon : think’ft thou that I’ll endanger my foul gratis? at a word, hang no more about me, I am no Gibbet for you: go, a ſhort knife, and a throng, to your Mannor of Picket-hatch : go, you’ll not bear a Letter for me, you Rogue? you stand upon your Honour: why (thou unconſinable bafeſens) it is as much as I can doe to keep the term of my Honour precife : I, I, I my ſelf fometimes, leaving the fear of heaven on

the left hand, and hiding mine Honour in my neceſſity, am fain to ſhuffle: to hedge, and to lurch, and yet you, your Rogue, will enſconce your rags; your Cat-a-Mountain- looks, your red-lattice phraſes, and your bold-beating-oathes, under the ſhelter of your Honour ? you will not do it ? you ?

Pistol. I do relent : what would’ſt thou more of man ?

Rob. Sir, here’s a woman would ſpeak with you,

Fal. Let her approach.

Qui. Give your worſhip good morrow.

Qui. God-morrow, good-wife.

Qui. Not ſo, and’t pleafe your worſhip.

Fal. Good maid then.

Qui. I’le be ſworn,

As my mother was the firſt hour I was born,

Fal. I do believe the ſwearer ; what with me ?

Qui. Shall I vouchſafe your worſhip a word, or two ?

Fal. Two thouſand ( fair woman) and I’le vouchſaſe thee the hearing.

Qui. There is one Miftref’s Ford, (Sir) I pray come a little nearer this wayes : I my ſelf dwell with Mr. Doctor Caius.

Fal. Well, on ; Miftref’s Ford, you ſay.

Qui. Your worſhip ſayes very true ; I pray your worſhip come a little nearer this wayes.

Fal. I warrant thee, no body hears: mine own people, mine own people.

Qui. Are they to ? heaven bleſſes them, and make them his ſervants.

Fal. Well ; Miftref’s Ford, what of her ?

Qui. Why, Sir ; ſhe’s a good creature ; lord, lord, your Worſhip’s a wanton : well, heaven forgive you, and all of us, I pray ——

Fal. Miftref’s Ford; come, Miftref’s Ford.

Qui. Marry this is the ſhort, and the long of it : you have brought her into ſuch a Canaries, as ’tis wonderfull : the beſt Courtier of them all (when the Court lay at Windsor) could never have brought her to ſuch a Canary : yet there has been Knights, and Lords, and Gentlemen, with their Coaches ; I warrant you Coach after Coach, letter after letter, gift after gift, ſmelling ſo ſwectly ; all musk, and ſo rufhling I warrant you, in filk and gold, and in ſuch alligant termes, and in ſuch wine and Sugar of the beſt, and the faireſt, that would have won any woman’s heart : and I warrant you they could never get an eye-wink of her : I had my ſelf twenty Anſels given me this morning, but I deſe all Anſels (in my ſuch fort, as they ſay) but in the way of honeſy : and I warrant you, they could never get her ſo much as ſip on a cup with the proudeſt of them all, and yet there has been Earls : may, (which is more) Pensioners ; but I warrant you all is one with her.

Fal. But what ſayes he to me ? be brief my good the-Mercury.

Qui. Marry, ſhe hath receiv’d your Letter: for the which ſhe thanks you a thouſand times; and ſhe gives you to notiſe, that her husband will be abſence from his houſe, between ten and eleven.

Fal. Ten, and eleven.

Qui. I, forſooth : and then you may come and fee the picture(he ſayes) that you wor of : After Ford her huſand will be from home; alas, the ſweet woman leads an ill life with him : he’s a very jelouſe-man ; the leads a very frampold life with him, (good heart.)

Fal. Ten, and eleven.

Woman

The Merry Wives of Windsor.

Woman, commend me to her, I will not fail her.

Qui. Why, you say well; but I have another meffen-
ger to your worship: Miftris Page hath her hearty com-
nendations to you too: and let me tell you in your ear,
he's as fartuous a civil modeft wife, and one (I tell you)
that will not miffie you morning nor evening prayer, as
any is in Windsor, who ere be the other: and the bad me
tell your worship, that her husband isfeldome from
home, but the hopes there will come a time. I never knew
a woman fo doat upon a man; furely I think you have
charmes, la: yes in truth.

Fal. Not I, I affure thee; fetting the attraction of
my good parts afide, I have no other charmes.

Qui. Bleffing on your heart for't.

Fal. But I pray thee tell me this: has Fords wife, and
Pages wife acquainted each other, how they love me?

Qui. That were a jef t indeed: they have not fo little
grace I hope, that were a trick indeed: But Miftris Page
would define you to fend her your little Page of all loves:
her husband has a marvellous infection to the little Page:
and truly Mafter Page is an honest man: never a wife in
Windsor leads a better life then the do's: do what the
will, say what the will, take all, pay all, go to bed when
the lift, rife when the liftall is as the will: and truly the
deferves it; for if there be a kind woman in Windsor, the
is one: you muft fend her your Page, no remedy.

Fal. Why, I will.

Qui. Nay, but do fo then, and look you, he may
come and go between you both: and in any cafe have
a nay-word, that you may know one anothers mind,
and the Boy never need to underftand any thing; for 'tis not
good that children should know any wickedneſſe: old
folks you know, have difcretion, as they ſay, and know
the world.

Fal. Fare thee well, commend me to them both there's
my purſe; I am yet thy debtor: Boy, go along with this
woman, this news diftracts me.

Pist. This punk is one of Cupids Carriers,
Clap on more fails, purſue: up with your fights:
Give fire: ſhe is my prize, or Ocean whom them all.

Fal. Saift thou fo (old Jack) go thy wayes: I'll make
more of thy old body then I have done: will they yet
look after thee? wilt thou after the expence of so much
money, be now a gainer? good body, I thank thee: let
them ſay 'tis groſſly done, fo it be fairly done, no mat-
ter.

Bar. Sir John, there's one Mafter Broom below would
fain ſpeak with you, and be acquainted with you; and
hath fent your worship a mornings draught of Sack.

Fal. Broom is his name?

Beſt. I, Sir.

Fal. Call him in: fuch Brooms are welcome to me,
that o're flows fuch liquor: ah, ah, Miftris Ford and
Miftris Page, have I encompafſed you? go to, via.

Ford. Bleſſe you fir.

Fal. And you fir: would you ſpeak with me?

Ford. I make bold, to prefence, with ſo little prepara-
tion upon you.

Fal. You'r welcome, what's your will; give us leave
Drawer.

Ford. Sir, I am a Gentleman that have ſpent much,
my name is Broom.

Fal. Good Mafter Broom, I defire more acquaintance
of you.

Ford. Good Sir John, I fure for yours: not to charge
you, for I muſt let you understand: I think my ſelf in

better plight for a Lender, then you are: the which hath
something emboldned me to this uneſtaſon'd intruſion:
for they ſay if money go before, all wayes doe lye o-
pen.

Fal. Money is a good Souldier (Sir) and will on.

Ford. Troth, and I have a bag of money here trou-
bles me: if you will help to bear it (Sir John) take all, or
half, for eafing me of the carriage.

Fal. Sir, I know not how I may deferve to be by our
Porter.

Ford. I will tell you fir, if you will give me the hear-
ing.

Fal. Speak (good Mafter Broom) I shall be glad to be
your ſervant.

Ford. Sir, I hear you are a Scholler: (I will be brief
with you) and you have been a man long known to me,
though I had never ſo good means as define, to make my
ſelf acquainted with you. I ſhall discover a thing to you,
wherein I muſt very many lay open mine own imperſe-
ſt: but (good Sir John) as you have one eye upon my
follicies, as you hear them unfolded, turn another into
the Register of your own, that I may paffe with a re-
proof the eſter, ſith you your ſelf know how eafe it is
to be fuch an offender.

Fal. Very well Sir, proceed.

Ford. There is a Gentlewoman in this Town, her
husbands name is Ford.

Fal. Well Sir.

Ford. I have long lov'd her, and I proteſt to you, be-
flowed much on her: followed her with a doating obfer-
vance: Ingreſſ'd opportunities to meet her: fee'd every
flight occafion that could but niggardly give me fight of
her: not only bought many preſents to give her, but have
given largely to many, to know what the would have gi-
ven: briefly, I have purfu'd her, as Love hath purfu'd me,
which hath been on the wing of all occafions: but what-
foever I have merited, either in my mind, or in my
means, meed I am future I have received none, unleſſe ex-
perience be a Jewish, that I have purchased at an infinite
rate, and that hath taught me to ſay this.

“Love like a shadow flies, when subſtance Love purſues;

“Purſuing that thnaſties, and flying what purſues.

Fal. Have you receiv'd no promife of ſatisfaction at
her hands?

Ford. Never.

Fal. Have you importun'd her to ſuck a purpofe?

Ford. Never.

Fal. Of what quality was your love then?

Ford. Like a fair houſe, built on another man's ground,
ſo that I have left my edifice, by mitaking the place,
where I erected it.

Fal. To what purpose have you unfolded this to me?

Ford. When I have told you that, I have told you all:
Some ſay, that though the appear-honest to me, yet in
other places the enlargeth her mirth so far, that there is
ſhrew'd conſtruction made of her. Now (Sir John) here
is the heart of my purpose: you are a Gentleman of ex-
ecellent breeding, admirable discourſe, of great admi-
tance, authentick in your place and perſon, generally
allow'd for your many war-like, court-like, and learned
preparations.

Fal. O Sir.

Ford. Believe it, for you know it: there is money,
ſpend it, ſpend it, ſpend more; ſpend all I have; only
give

The merry Wives of Windfor.

47

give me so much of your time in exchange of it, as to lay
an amiable liege to the honefty of this Fords wife: ufe
your Art of wooing; win her to consent to you: if any
man may, you may as soon as any.

Fal. Would it apply well to the vehemency of your af-
feest that I should win what you would enjoy? Me-
thinks you prescribe to your self very prepofterouffly.

Ford. O, understand my drift: the dwels so securely
on the excellency of her honour, that the folly of my foul
dares not preſent it ſelf: as ſhe is too bright to be look'd
againſt. Now, could I come to her with any detection
in my hand; my deſires had inſtance and argument to
commit themselves, I could drive her then from the
ward of her purity, her reputation, her marriage-vow,
and a thouſand other her defences, which now are too-
too strongly embattailed againſt me: what ſay you too't,
Sir John

Fal. Maſter Broom, I will firſt make bold with your
money: next give me your hand: and laſt, as I am a Gen-
tleman, you ſhall, if you will, enjoy Fords wife.

Ford. O good Sir.

Fal. I ſay you ſhall.

Ford. Want no money (Sir John) you ſhall want none.

Fal. Want no Miftreſs Ford (Maſter Broom) you ſhall
want none: I ſhall be with her (I may tell you) by her
own appointment, even as you came into me, her affi-
ſtant, or go-between, parted from me: I ſay I ſhall be
with her between ten and eleven: for at that time the jea-
lious-raſcally-knaſe her husband will be forſt: come you
to me at night, you ſhall know I ſpeed.

Ford. I am bleſt in your acquaintance: do you know
Ford Sir?

Fal. Hang him ( poor Cuckoldly knaſe) I know him
not: yet I wrong him to call him poor: They ſay the
jealous wittily-knaſe hath maſſes of money, for the
which his wife ſeems to me well-favour'd. I will uſe her
as the key of the Cuckold-rogues Coffer, and there's my
harvest-home.

Ford. I would you knew Ford, fir, that you might avoid
him, if you faw him.

Fal. Hang him, mechanicall-faſt-butter rogue; I will
ſtare him out of his wits: I will awe him with my cud-
gell: it ſhall hang like a Meteor o're the Cuckolds horns:
Maſter Broom, thou ſhalt know; I will predominate o-
ver the pezant, and thou ſhalt lye with his wife. Come
to me ſoon at night: Ford's a knaſe, and I will aggra-
vate his ſtyle: thou (Maſter Broom) ſhalt know him for
knaſe, and Cuckold. Come to me ſoon at night Exit.

Ford. What a damn'd Epicurian-Raſcall is this ? my
heart is ready to erack with inſpatience: who faies this
is improvident jealouſe ? my wife hath ſent to him, the
hour is fixt, the match is made: would any man have
thought this ? fee the helſ of having a ſalſe woman : my
bed ſhall be abus'd, my Coffers ſanſack'd, my reputati-
on gnawn at, and I ſhall not onely receive this villanous
wrong, but ſtand under the adoption of abhominable
termes: and by him that does me this wrong: Termes,
names: Amaſaimon ſounds well: Luciſer, well: Barbaſon,
well: yet they are Devils additions, the names of fiends:
But Cuckold, Wittoll, Cuckold ? the Devill himself,
hath not ſuch a name. Ford is an Aſſe, a ſecure Aſſe; he
will truſt his wife, he will not be jealous: I will rather
truſt a Fleming with my butter, Parſon Hauſh the Welch-
man with my Cheefe, an Irifh-man with my Aqua-vitæ-
bottle, or a Thieſt to walke my ambling gelding, than
my wife with her ſelf. Then the plots, then the rumi-

nates, then the devites: and what they think in their
hearts they may effect; they will break their hearts but
they will effect: Heaven be prais'd for my jealouſe ele-
ven o' clock the hour, I will prevent this, detect my
wife, be reveng'd on Falfaffe, and laugh at Page. I will
about it, better three hours too ſoon, then a minute too
late: ſie, ſie, ſie: Cuckold, Cuckold, Cuckold. Exit.

## Scena Tertia.

Enter Cains, Rugby, Shallow, Slender, Page, Hoſt.

Cains. Jack Rugby.

Rug. Sir.

Cains. Vat is de clock, Jack.

Rug. 'Tis paſt the hour (Sir) that Sir Hugh promis'd
to meet.

Cai. By gar, he has ſave his ſoul, dat he is no-come:
he has pray his Pible well, dat he is no come: by gar
(Fack Rugby) he is dead already, if he become.

Rug. He is wife Sir: he knew your worſhip would
kill him if he came.

Cai. By gar, de herring is no dead, so as I vill kill him:
take your Rapier, (Jack) I vill tell you how I vill kill
him.

Rug. Alas fir, I cannot fence.

Cai. Villany, take your Rapier.

Rug. Forbear: here's company.

Hoſt. 'Bleſs thee; bully-Doctor.

Shal. 'Save you Mr. Doctor Cains.

Page. Now good Mr. Doctor.

Slen. 'Give you good-morrow, fir.

Cains. Vat be all you one; two; tree, four, come for.

Hoſt. To fee thee fight, to fee thee foigne, to fee thee
traverſe, to fee thee here, to fee thee there, to fee thee
paffe thy puncto, thy ſtock, thy reverſe, thy diſtance, thy
montant: Is he dead, my Ethiopian? Is he dead, my Fran-
cifco? ha Bully? what ſays my Eſculapius? my Gallen? my
heart of Elder? ha ? is he dead bully-Stale ? is he dead ?

Cai. By gar, he is de Coward-Jack-Prieſt of de world:
he is not ſhow his face.

Hoſt. Thou art a Caſtalion-king-Urinall: Héctor of
Greece (my boy.)

Cai. I pray you bear witneſſe, that me have ſtay,
fix or ſeven, two tree houres for him, and he is no-
come.

Shal. He is the wifer man (Mr. Doctor) he is a curer
of ſouls, and you a curer of bodies: if you should fight,
you go againſt the hair of your proſeſions: is it not true,
Maſter Page ?

Page. Maſter Shallow; you have your ſelf been a great
fighter, though now a man of peace.

Shal. Body-kins Mr. Page, though I now be old,
and of peace; if I fee a ſword out, my finger itches to make
one: though we are Juitices, and Doctors, and Church-
men (Mr. Page) we have ſome ſalt of our youth in us, we
are the ſons of women (Mr. Page.)

Page. 'Tis true Mr. Shallow.

Shal. It will be found ſo, (Mr. Page) Mr. Doctor Cai-
us, I am come to fetch you home: I am ſworn of the
peace: you have ſhew'd your ſelf a wife Phyſician, and
fir Hugh hath ſhown himself a wife and patient Church-
man: you muſt go with me, Mr. Doctor.

Hoſt.

The Merry Wives of WInfor.

48

Höst. Pardon, Gueft-Juſtice; a Mounſeur Mockwa-
ter.

Cai. Mock-water ? vat is dat ?

Höst. Mock-water, in our English tongue is Valour
(Bully.)

Cai. By gar, then I have as much Mock-water as de
Englifhman: ſcui vy-Jack-dog-Prieft : by gar, me vill cut
his ears.

Höst. He will Clapper-claw thee tightly (Bully.)

Cai. Clapper-de-claw ? vat is dat ?

Höst. That is, he will make thee amends.

Cai. By gar, me do look he ſhall clapper-de-claw me,
for by-gar, me vill have it.

Höst. And I will provoke him to't, or let him wag.

Cai. Me tanck you for dat.

Höst. And moreover, (Bully) but firſt, Mr. Gueſt, And Mr. Page, and eek Cavalerio Slender, go you through the Town to Frogmore,

Page. Sir Hugh is there, is he ?

Höst. He is there, see what humour he is in: and I will bring the Doctor about the Fields: will it do well?

Shal. We will do it.

All. Adien, good Mr. Doctor.

Cai. By gar, me vill kill de Prieft, for he ſpeak for a Jack-an-Ape to Anne Page.

Höst. Let him die: ffeath thy impatience: throw cold water on thy Choller : goe about the fields with me through Frogmore, I will bring thee where Miftris Anne Page is, at a Farme, houſe a Feaſting: and thou ſhalt wooe her: Cride-game, faid I well?

Cai. By-gar, me danck you vor dat : by gar I love you : and I ſhall procure 'a you de good Gueſt : de Earl, de Knight, de Lords, de Gentlemen, my patients.

Höst. For the which, I will be thy adverfary toward

Anne Page: faid I well ?

Cai. By-gar, 'tis good: vell faid.

Höst. Let us wag then.

Come at my heels, Jack Rughy.

Exeunt.

Altus Tertius, Scena Prima.

Enter Evans, Simple, Page, Shallow, Slender, Höft, Caius,
Rughy.

Evans. I pray you now, good Maſter Slenders, ſen-
ving-man, and friend Simple by your name; which way
have you look'd for Maſter Caius, that calls himſelf Do-
ctor of Pniſhick.

Sim. Marry Sir, the pitty-wary, the Park-ward; e-
very way : old Windfor way, and every way but the
Town way.

Evan. I moſt feehemently deſire you, you will alſo
look that way.

Sim. I will fir.

Evan. 'Pleſs my foul: how full of Chollars I am, and
trempling of minde: I ſhall be glad if he have deceived
me: how melancholies I am ? I will knog his Urinalls a-
bout his knaves coſtard, when I have good opportunities
for the orke: 'Pleſs my foul: To ſhallow Rivers to whose
falls, melodious Birds ſings Madrigalls : There will we
make our Peds of Reſes: and a thousand fragrant poſies.
To ſhallow.'Mercy on me, I have a great diſpoſition to cry.

Melodious birds ſing Madrigall: ---When as I ſat in Pa-
bilon: and a thousand vagram Poſies. To ſhallow, &c.

Sim. Yonder he is coming, this way, Sir Hugh.

Ev. Hee's welcome: To ſhallow Rivers, to whose falls:
Heaven proper the right: what weapons is he ?

Sim. No weapons, Sir: there comes my Maſter, Mr. Shallow; and another Gentleman; from Flegmore, over the ſile, this way.

Evan. Pray you give me my gown, or else keep it in
your arms. Enter All.

Shal. How now Maſter Parfon ? good morrow good
Sir Hugh: keep a gameſter from the dice, and a good
Student from his book, and it is wonderfull.

Slen. Ah sweet Anne Page.

Page. 'Save you good Sir Hugh.

Evan. 'Pleſs you from his mercy-fake, all of you.

Shal. What ? the Sword, and the word ?

Do you fludy them both, Mr. Parfon ?

Page. And youthfull ſtill, in your doublet and hofe,
this raw-ruomatick day ?

Evan. There is reaſons, and cauſes for it.

Page. We are come to you : to do a good office, Mr. Parfon.

Evan. Fery well: what is it ?

Page. Yonder is a moſt reverend Gentleman; who (be-
like) having received wrong by ſome perfon, is at moſt
odds with his own gravity and patience, that ever you
ſaw.

Shal. I have lived fourſcore years; and upward: I never heard a man of his place, gravity, and learning, ſo wide of his own reſpect.

Evan. What is he ?

Page. I think you know him : Mr. Doctor Caius the renowned French Philifian.

Evan. Got's-will, and his paſſion of my heart: I had as lief you would tell me of a meſs of porridge.

Page. Why ?

Evan. He has no more knowledge in Hibocrates and Galen, and he is a knave beſides: a cowardly knave, as you would deſire to be acquainted withall.

Page. I warrant you, hee's the man ſhould fight with
him.

Slen. O sweet Anne Page.

Enter Caius.

Shal. It appears so by his weapons: keep them as
funder: here comes Doctor Caius.

Page. Nay good Mr. Parfon, keep in your weapon.

Shal. So do you, good Mr. Doctor.

Höst. Difarm them, and let them queſtion: let them keep their limbs whole, and hack our English.

Cai. I pray you let-a-me ſpeak a word with your ear;
wherefore will you not meet-a me ?

Evan. Pray you ſufe your patience in good time.

Cai. By-gar, you are de Coward: de Jack dog: John
Ape.

Evan. Pray you let us not be laughing-ſtocks to other
mens humours: I deſire you in friendſhip, and I will one
way or other make you amends: I will knog your Urinal
about your knaves Cogs-combe.

Cai. Diable, Jack Rughy mine Höft de Fartee, have I not ſlay for him, to kill him ? have I not at de place I did appoint ?

Evan. As I am a Chriſtians-foul, now look you:
this is the place appointed, I'le be judgement by mine
Höst of the Garter.

Höst. Peace, I ſay, Gallia, and Gaul, French, and
Welch, Soul-Curer, and Body-Curer.

Cai.

50

The merry Wives of WIndfor.

Be gone, and come when you are call'd.

*Mif. Page.* Here comes little Robin. (with you ?

*Mif. Ford.* How now my Eyas-Musket, what news,

*Rob.* My M, Sir John is come in at your back door
(Mif. Ford), and requefts your company.

*Mif. Pa.* You little Jack-a-lent, have you bin true to us?

*Rob.* I, I'le be (worn : my Mafter knows not of your
being here: and hath threatened to put me into everla-
ting liberty, if I tell you of it: for he fwears he'l turn
me away.

*Mif. Page.* Thou'rt a good boy : this fecrecy of thine
shall be a Taylor to thee, and shall make thee a new dou-
blet and hofe. I'le go hide me.

*Mif. Ford.* Doe so : go tell thy Mafter, I am alone :
Miftreffe Page, remember you your Qu.

*Mif. Page.* I warrant thee, if I doe not act it, hiffle me.

*Mif. Ford.* Go to then : we'll use this unwholfsome hu-
midity, this groſſe watry Pumpion ; we'll teach him to
know Turtles from Jayes. Enter Fal.

*Fal.* Have I caught thee, my heavenly Jewell ? Why
now let me die, for I have liv'd long enough : This is the
period of my ambition : O this bleſſed hour.

*Mif. Ford.* O sweet Sir John.

*Fal.* Miftreſſe Ford, I cannot cog, I cannot prace
(Miftreſſe Ford) now ſhall I fin in my with; I would thy
Husband were dead, I'le ſpeak it before the beſt Lord, I
would make thee my Lady.

*Mif. Ford.* I your Lady Sir John? Alafs, I should be
a pittifull Lady.

*Fal.* Let the Court of France ſhew me ſuch another :
I fee how thine eye would emulate the Diamond : Thou
hast the right arched-beauty of the brow, that becomes
the Ship-tyre, the Tyre-valiant, or any Tire of Venetian
admittance.

*Mif. Ford.* A plain Kerchiffe, Sir John.

My brows become nothing ſelie, nor that well neither.

*Fal.* Thou art a tyrant to ſay so: thou would'ſt make
an absolute Courtier, and the ſinn ſ fixture of thy foot
would give an excellent motion to thy gate, in a ſemi-
circled Farthingale. I fee what thou wert, if Fortune thy
foe were not, Nature thy friend; Come, thou canst not
hide it.

*Mif. Ford.* Believe me, there's no ſuch thing in me.

*Fal.* What made me love thee ? Let that perfwade
thee. There's ſomething extraordinary in thee : Come, I
cannot cog, and ſay thou art this and that, like a many
of theſe liſping Haw-thorn buds, that come like women
in mens apparell, and ſmell like Bucklers-berry in ſim-
plingtime : I cannot, but I love thee, none but thee ; and
thou deferv'ſt it.

*Mif. For.* Do not betray me Sir, I fear you love M, Page.

*Fal.* Thou might'ſt as well ſay, I love to walk by the
Counter Gate, which is as hatefull to me, as the reek of
a Lime-kill.

*Mif. Ford.* Well heaven knowes how I love you,
and you ſhall one day find it.

*Fal.* Keep in that mind, I'le deferve it.

*Mif. Ford.* Nay, I muſt tell you, ſo you doe, or else I
could not be in that mind. Within.

*Rob.* Miftreſſe Ford, Miftreſſe Ford, here's Miftreſſe
Page at the door, ſwearing, and blowing, and looking
wildely, and would needs ſpeak with you prefently.

*Fal.* She ſhall not fee me, I will enſconce me behind
the Arras.

*M. ford.* Pray you doe ſo, ſhe's a very tatling woman.
What's the matter ? how now ? Enter Mif. Page.

*Mif. Page.* O Miftreſſe Ford, what have you done ?
You'fhan'd, y'are overthrown, y'are undone for ever.

*M. Ford.* What's the matter, good Miftreſſe Page ?

*M. Page.* O well-a-day, Miftreſſe Ford, having an honest
man to your husband, to give him ſuch cauſe of ſufpition.

*Mif. Ford.* What cauſe of ſufpition ?

*Mif. Page.* What cauſe of ſufpition ? Out upon you :
How am I miftook in you ?

*Mif. Ford.* Why (alas) What's the matter ?

*Mif. Page.* Your husbands comming hither (woman)
with all the Officers in Windsor, to ſearch for a Gentle-
man, that he fayes is here now in the houſe; by your
confent to take an ill advantage of his abſence : you are
undene.

*Mif. Ford.* 'Tis not ſo, I hope.

*Mif. Page.* Pray heaven it be not ſo, that you have
fuch a man here : but 'tis moſt certain your husband's
comming, with half Windsor at his heels, to ſearch for ſuch
a one, I come before to tell you: If you know your ſelf
clear, why I am glad of it: but if you have a friend here,
convey, convey him out. Be not amaz'd, call all your
ſenſes to you, defend your reputation, or bid farewell to
your good life for ever.

*Mif. Ford.* What ſhall I doe ? There is a Gentleman
my dear friend : and I fear not: mine own ſhame ſo much,
as his perill. I had rather then a thouſand pound he were
out of the houſe.

*Mif. Page.* For ſhame, never ſtand (you had rather,
and you had rather :) your husband's here at hand, be-
think you of ſome conveyance : in the houſe you cannot
hide him. Oh, how have you decei'd me ? Look, here
is a basket, if he be of any reaſonable ſtature, he may
creep in here, and throw ſoul linzen upon him, as if it
were going to bucking : Or it is whiting time, ſend him by
your two men to Datchet-Meade.

*Mif. Ford.* He's too big to go in there: what ſhall I do ?

*Fal.* Let me fee't, let me fee't, O let me fee't :
I'le in, i'le in : Follow your friends counſell, I'le in.

*Mif. Page.* What Sir John Fallſaffe, are theſe your
Letters Knight ?

*Fal.* I love thee; help me away : let me creep in here :
i'le never.

*Mif. Page.* Help to cover your Mafter (boy :) Call
your men (Miftreſſe Ford) You diſembling Knight.

*Mif. Ford.* What John, Robert, John; Go take up
theſe cloathes here, quickly: Where's the Cowle-ſaffe ?
Look how you drumble ? Carry them to the Landreſſe in
Datchet-Mead : quickly, come.

*Ford.* 'Pray you come near : if I ſuſpect without cauſe,
Why then make ſport at me, then let me be your jeſt,
I deferve it : How now ? Whether bear you this ?

*Ser.* To the Landreſſe forfooth ?

*Mif. Ford.* Why, what have you to doe whether they
bear it ? You were beſt meddle with buck-waſhing.

*Ford.* Buck? I would I could waſh my ſelf of the Buck:
buck, buck, buck, I buck: I warrant you Buck, and of the
leafeon too ; it ſhall appear.

Gentlemen, I have dream'd to night, I'le tell you my
dream : here, here, here be my keyes, aſcent my
Chambers, ſearch, ſeek, find out : I'le warrant we'll
unkennell the Fox. Let me ſtop this way firſt : ſo, now
uncape.

*Page.* Good Mafter Ford, be contented :
You wrong your ſelf too much.

*Ford.* True (After Page) up Gentlemen : you ſhall
fee ſport anon : follow me Gentlemen.

Evan.

The merry Wives of WIndfor.

31

Evan. This is ferry fantastically humours and jealousies.
Cairus. By gar, 'tis no-the fashion of France; it is not
jealous in France. Exeunt.

Page. Nay follow him (Gentlemen) see the flue of his feachr,

Mif. Page. Is there not a double excellency in this?

Mif. Ford. I know not which pleafes me better, that my husband is deceived, or Sir John.

Mif. Page. What a taking was he in, when your husband ask't who was in the basket?

Mif. Ford. I am half afraid he will have need of wathing: so throwing him into the water will do him a benefit.

Mif. Page. Hang him, difhonest rafcall : I would all of the fame train, were in the fame diftreffe.

Mif. Ford. I think my husband hath fome speciall fufpition of Falftaffe's being here: I never faw him fto groſſe in his jealouſe till now.

Mif. Page. I will lay a plot to try that, and we will yet have more tricks with Falftaffe : his diffolute difeafe will feare: obey this medicine.

Mif. Ford. Shall we fend that foolifh Carrion, Mift.
Quickly to him, and excufe his throwing into the water,
and give him another hope, to betray him to another pu-
nifhment?

Mif. Page. We'll do it: let him be ſent for to morrow by eight a clock to have amends. Enter All.

Ford. I cannot find him: may be the knave bragg'd of that he could not compaſſe.

Mif. Page. Heard you that ?

Mif. Ford. You uſe me well, Maſt. Ford ? doe you ?

Ford. I, I, I doe ſo.

Mif. Page. Heaven make you better then your thoughts.

Ford. Amen.

Mif. Page. You doe your ſelf mighty wrong(M. Ford)

Ford. I, I: I muſt bear it.

Ev. an If there be any pody in the houſe, and in the
chambers, and in the coffers, and in the preſſes : heaven
forgive my fins.

Cairus. By gar, nor I too: there is no-bodies.

Page. Fie, ſie, M. Ford, are you not afham'd? What ſpirit,
what devil fuggeſts this imagination ? I would not ha
your diſtemper in this kind, for the wealth of Windsor caſſle

Ford. 'Tis my fault (M. Page) I ſuffer for it.

Evan. You ſuffer for a pad confience: your wife is
as honest a o'mans, as I will defures among five thouſand,
and five hundred too.

Cai. By gar, I fee 'tis an honest woman.

Ford. Well, I promis'd you a dinner: come, come, walk
in the Park, I pray you pardon me: I will hereafter make
known to you why I have done this. Come wife, come
Mi. Page, I pray you pardon me, Pray hartly pardon me.

Page. Let's go in Gentlemen, but (truſt me) we'll mock
him: I doe invite you to morrow morning to my houſe
to breakfast: after we'll a Birding together, I have a fine
Hawk for the buff. Shall it be to :

Ford. Any thing.

Ev. If there is one, I ſhall make two in the Company.

Cai. If there be one or two, I ſhall make-a the turd.

Ford. Pray yougo, M. Page.

Evan. I pray you now remembrance to morrow on
the lowſe knave, mine Hoſſ.

Cai. Dat is good by gar, with all my heart.

Evan. A lowſe knave, to have his gibes, and his
mockeries.

Exeunt.

## Scena Quarta.

Enter Fenton, Anne Page, Shallow, Slender,
Quickly, Page, Mif. Page.

Fen. I fee I cannot get thy Fathers love,
Therefore no more, turn me to him (weet Nan.)

Anne. Alafs, how then?

Fev. Why thou muſt be thy ſelf.
He doth object, I am too great of birth,
And that my ſtate being gall'd with my expence,
I ſeek to heal it only by his wealth.

Befides theſe, other barrs he layes before me,

My Riots paſt, my wild Societies,

And tells me 'tis a thing impoffible

I should love thee, but as a property.

Anne. May be he tells you true.

Fen. No, heaven ſo ſpeed me in my time to conae,
Albeit I will conſeſſe, thy Fathers wealth

Was the firſt motive that I woo'd the (Anne :)

Yet wooing thee, I found thee of more value

Then ſtamps in Gold, or ſummes in ſealed-bags :

And 'tis the very riches of thy ſelf,

That now Laim at.

An. Gentle M. Fenton,

Yet ſeek my Father's love, ſtil ſeek it fir,

If opportunity and humbleſt ſuit

Cannot attain it, why then hark you hither,

Shal. Break their talk Miftreſſe Quicſtly,

My Kinfman ſhall ſpeak for himſelf.

Slen. I'le make a ſhaft or a bolt on't, 'd'slid 'tis but

Shal. Be not difmaid.

(venturing.)

Slen. No, the ſhall not difmay me :

I care not for that, but I am affeard.

Qui. Hark ye, M. Slender would ſpeak a word with you.

An. I come to him. This is my Fathers choice :

O, what a world of vilde ili-favour'd ſaults

Looks handſome in three hundred pounds a year ?

Qui. And how do's good Maſter Fenton ?

Pray you a word with you.

Shal. She's comming : to her Coz.

O boy, thou hadſt a Father.

Slen. I had a Father (M. An.) my Uncle can tell you
good jeſts of him: pray you Uncle, tell M. An. the jeſt how
my Father ſtole two Grieſe out of a Pen, good Unkle.

Shal. Miftreſſe Anne, my Couſin loves you.

Slen. I that I doe, as well as I love any woman in Glo-
ceſſerſhire.

Shal. He will maintain you like a Gentlewoman.

Slen. I that I will, come cut and long-tail, under the
degree of a Squire.

Shal. He will make you a hundred and fifty pounds
Jointure,

Anne. Good Maſter Shallow, let him wooe for him-
ſelf.

Shal. Marry I thank you for it: I thank you for that;
good comfort: the calls you (Coz) I'le leave you,

Anne. Now Maſter Slender.

Slen. Now good Miftreſſe Anne.

Anne. What is your will?

Slen. My will? Od's-heart-lings, that's a pretty jeſt
indeed: I ne're made my Will yet, (I thank Heaven :) I
am not ſuch a fickly creature ; I give Heaven praisę.

E 2

Anne.

The merry Wives of Windsor.

Evan. O’man, art thou Lunaties ? Haft thou no underfandings for thy Cafes, and the numerbs of the Genters ? Thou art as foolish Chriftian creatures as I would defines.

Mif. Page. Prethee hold thy peace.

Evan. Shew me now (William) some declensions of your Pronouns,

Will. Forfooth, I have forgot.

Eva. It is *Qui, que, quod*; if you forget your *Quies*, your *Ques*, and your *Quods*, you muſt be preeches: Go your wayes and play, go.

M. Pa. He is a better Schollar then I thought he was.

Eva. He is a good ſprag-m: memory: Farewell M. Pa.

Mif. Page. Adieu good Sir Hugh.

Get you home boy, Come we play too long.

Exeunt.

## Scena Secunda.

Enter Falstaffe. Mif. Ford, Mif. Page, Servants, Ford, Page, Caim, Evans, Shallow.

Fal. Miftris Ford, your forrow hath eaten up my ſuffering; I fee you are obſequious in your love, and I professe requitall to a hairs breadth, not onely Miftris Ford, in the ſimple office of love, but in all the accoutreſtment, complement, and ceremony of it: but are you ſure of your husband now?

Mif. Ford. He’s a birding (ſweet Sir John.)

Mif. Page. What hoa, goſlip Ford: what hoa.

Mif. Ford. Step into th’chamber, Sir John. Enter.

Mif. Page. How now (sweet heart) who’s at home befides your ſelf?

Mif. Ford. Why none but nine own people.

Mif. Page. Indeed?

Mif. Ford. No certainly: ſpeak louder.

Mif. Page. Truly, I am ſo glad you have no body here.

Mif. Ford. Why?

Mif. Page. Why woman, your husband is in his old lines again: he ſo takes on yonder with my husband, fo rails againſt all married mankind; ſo curſes all Eves daughters, of what complexion ſoever; and ſo buffets himself on the forehead: crying peere-out, peere-out, that any madneſſe I ever yet beheld, ſeem’d but tanneſſe, civility, and patience to this his diſtemper he is in now: I am glad the fat Knight is not here.

Mif. Ford. Why do’s he talk of him?

Mif. Page. Of none but him, and ſwears he was carried out the laſt time he ſeareſt for him, in a Basket: Proteſſs to my husband he is now here, and hath drawn him and the reſt of their company from their ſport, to make another experiment of his ſuſpition: But I am glad the Knight is not here; now he ſhall fee his own foolery.

Mif. Ford. How near is he Miftris Page?

Mif. Page. Hard by, at ſtreetes end, he will be here anon.

Mif. Ford. I am undone, the Knight is here.

Mif. Page. Why then you are utterly ſham’d, and he’s but a dead man. What a woman are you? away with him, away with him: Better ſhame then murther.

Mif. Ford. Which way ſhould he go? How ſhould I beſtow him? Shall I put him into the basket again?

Fal. No, I’le come no more i’ch Basket: Enter.
May I not go out ere he come?

Mif. Page. Alas: three of Maſter Ford’s brothers watch the door with Piftolls, that none ſhall iffue out: otherwife you might ſlip away ere he came: But what make you here?

Fal. What ſhall I do? I’ll creep up into the chimney.

Mif. Ford. There they always ſeue to diſcharge their Birding-pieces: creep into the Kill-hole.

Fal. Where is it?

Mif. Ford. He will ſee there on my word: Neither Přesſe, Coffer, Cheſt, Trunk, Well, Vault, but he hath an abſtraſt for the remembrance of ſuch places, and goes to them by his Note: There is no hiding you in the houſe.

Fal. I’ll go out then.

Mif. Ford. If you go out in your own ſemblance, you die Sir John, unleſſe you go out diſguſ’d. How might we diſguſe him?

Mif. Page. Alas! the-day I know not, there is no woman’s Gown big enough for him: otherwife he might put on a Hat, a Muffler, a Kerchiffe, and ſo eſcape.

Fal. Good hearts deviſe ſomething: any extremity, rather then a miſchief.

Mif. Ford. My Maids Aunt, the fat woman of Brainford, has a Gown above.

Mif. Page. On my word it will ſerve him: ſhe’s as big as he is: and there’s her thrum’d Hat, and her Muffler too: run up Sir John.

Mif. Ford. Go, go, ſweet Sir John: Miftris Page and I will look ſome linnen for your head.

Mif. Page. Quick, quick, we’ll come drefſe you ſtraight: put on the Gown the while. Exit.

Mif. Ford. I would my husband would meet him in this ſhape: he cannot abide the old woman of Brainford: he ſwears ſhe’s a Witch, forbad her my houſe, and hath threatened to beat her.

Mif. Page. Heaven guide him to thy husbands cudgell: and the devil guide his cudgell afterwards.

Mif. Ford. But is my Husband comming?

Mif. Page. I in good ſadneſſe is he, and talks of the Basket too, howſoever he hath had intelligence.

Mif. Ford. We’ll try that; for I’ll appoint my men to carry the basket again, to meet him at the door with it, as they did laſt time.

Mif. Page. Nay, but he’ll be here prefently: Iet’s go drefſe him like the Witch of Brainford.

Mif. Ford. I’le firſt direct my men, what they ſhall do with the Basket: Go up, I’le bring linnen for him ſtraight.

Mif. Page. Hang him diſhoneſt Varlet, We cannot miſufe him enough: We’ll leave a proof by that which we will do, Wives may be merry, and yet honeſt too: We do not aſt, that often jeſt and laugh, ’Tis old, but true, ſtill Swine eats all the draugh.

Mif. Ford. Go Sits, take the Basket again on your shoulders: your Maſter is hard at door: if he bid you ſet it down, obey him: quickly, diſpatch. Enter Ser.

I Ser. Come, come, take it up.

2 Ser. Pray heaven it be not full of the Knight again.

I Ser. I hope not, I had as liefe bear ſo much Lead.

Ford. I, but if it prove true (Maſter Page) have you any way then to unſool me again? Set down the Basket villain: fomebody call my wife: Youth in a Basket: Oh you Panderly Raſcalls, there’s a knot: a ging, a pack, a confirpacy againſt me: Now ſhall the devil be ſham’d, What Wife I ſay: Come, come forth: behold what ho-

neſt

The merry Wives of Windsor.

55

next clothes you fend for to bleaching.

*Page.* Why, this paffes Mr. Ford: you are not to go
loofe any longer, you must be pinnion'd.

*Evans.* Why, this is Lunaticks: this is mad as a mad dog.

*Shat.* Indeed M. Ford, this is not well indeed.

*Ford.* So say I too fir, come hither Miftris Ford, Miftris Ford, the honest woman: the modest wife, the vertuous creature, that hath the jealous fool to her husband: I fufpect without caufe (Miftris) do I?

*Mif. Ford.* Heaven be my witneſs you do, if you fufpect me in any diſhonesty.

*Ford.* Well faid brazen-face, hold it out: Come forth firrah,

*Page.* This paffes.

*Mif. Ford.* Are you not aſham'd, let the cloathes alone, Ford. I ſhall find you anon.

*Evans.* 'Tis unreasonable; will you take up your wives cloathes? Come, away.

*Ford.* Empty the basket I lay.

*Mif. Ford.* Why man, why?

*Ford.* After Page, as I am a man, there was one convey'd out of my houſe yefterday in this basket: why may not he be there again? in my houſe I am ſure he is: my intelligence is true, my jealousy is reasonable, pluck me out all the linnen.

*Mif. Ford.* If you find a man there, he ſhall die a Fleas death.

*Page.* Here's no man.

*Shal.* By my fidelity this is not well Mr. Ford: This wrongs you.

*Evan. M. Ford, you muſt pray, and not follow the iminations of your own heart: this is jealousy.

*Ford.* Well, hee's not here I feek for.

*Page.* No, nor no where else but in your brain.

*Ford.* Help to search my houſe this one time: if I find not what I feek, ſhew no colour of my extremity: Let me for ever be your Table-fport: Let them ſay of me as jealous as Ford, that fearch'd a hollow Wall-nut for his Wives Lemman. Satisſue me once more, once more fearch with me.

*Mif. Ford.* What hoa (Miftris Page) come you and the old Woman down: my husband will come into the Chamber,

*Ford.* Old woman? what old woman's that?

*Mif. Ford.* Why it is my Maids Aunt of Brainford.

*Ford.* A Witch, a Quean, an old cozening Quean: Have I not forbid her my houſe? She comes of errands do's ſhe? We are ſimple men, we do not know what's brought to paffs under the preſſion of Fortune-telling. She works by Charmes, by Spels, by th'Figure, and fuch dawbry, as this is, beyond our Element: we know nothing. Come down you Witch, you Hag you, come down I fay.

*Mif. Ford.* Nay, good fweet husband, good Gentlemen, let him not ftrike the old Woman.

*Enter Fal.*

*Mif. Page.* Come Mother Prat, Come give me your hand.

*Ford.* I'le Prat her: Out of my door you Witch, you Hag, you Baggage, you Poulcat, you Runnion, out, out: I'le conjure you, I'le Fortun-e-tell you.

*Exit Fal.*

*Mif. Page.* Are you not aſham'd?

*I think you have kill'd the poor woman.*

*Mif. Ford.* Nay he will do it, 'tis a goodly credit for you.

*Ford.* Hang her Witch,

*Evans.* By yea, and no, I think the o'man is a Witch indeed: I like not when a o'man has a great peard; I ſpie a great peard under his Muffler.

*Ford.* Will you follow Gentlemen, I bebeſch you follow: fee but the ifſue of my jealousy: If I cry out thus upon no trail, never truſt me when I open again.

*Page.* Let's obey his humour a little further:

*Come Gentlemen.*

*Exeunt.*

*Mif. Page.* Truſt me he beat him moſt pitifully.

*Mif. Ford.* Nay by th'Maſs that he did not: he beat him moſt unpitifully, me thought.

*Mif. Page.* I'le have the cudgell hallow'd, and hung o're the Altar; it hath done meritorious ſervice.

*Mif. Ford.* What think you? May we with the warrant of woman-hood, and the witneſs of a good confidence, purſue him with any further revenge?

*Mif. Page.* The ſpirit of wantonneſſe is ſure Icar'd out of him; if the Devil have him not in fee-ſimple, with fine and recovery, he will never; I think; in the way of wafe, attempt us again.

*Mif. Ford.* Shall we tell our husbands how we have ſerved him?

*Mif. Page.* Yes, by all means: if it be but to ſcrape the figures out of your husbands brain: if they can find in their hearts, the poor unvertuous fat Knight shall be any further affliet'd, we two will ſtill be the minifters.

*Mif. Ford.* I'le warrant they'll have him publicly (ham'd, and me thinks there would be no period to the jeſt, should he not be publicly (ham'd.

*Mif. Page.* Come to the Forge with it, then shape it: I would not have things coole.

*Exeunt.*

## Scena Tertia.

*Enter Host and Bardolfe.*

*Bar.* Sir, the Germane deſires to have three of your horſes: the Duke himſelf will be to morrow at Court, and they are going to meet him.

*Host.* What Duke ſhould that be comes ſo ſecreſtly? I hear not of him in the Court: let me ſpeak with the Gentlemen, they speak English.

*Bar.* Sir? I'le call them to you.

*Host.* They ſhall have my horſes, but I'le make them pay: I'le ſawce them, they have had my houſes a week at command: I have turn'd away my other gueſts, they muſt come off, I'le ſawce them, come.

*Exeunt.*

## Scena Quarta.

*Enter Page, Ford, Miftris Page, Miftris Ford, and Evans.*

*Evans.* 'Tis one of the beſt diſeretions of a o'man as ever I did look upon.

*Page.* And did he ſend you both these Letters at an inſtant?

*Mif. Page.* Within a quarter of an hour.

*Ford.* Pardon me (wife) henceforth do what thou wile: I rather will ſuſpect the Sun with gold,

Then thee with wantonneſſs; Now doth thy honor ſtand

(In

The merry Wives of Windsor.

57

her selfe, I had other things to have spoken with her too,
from him.

Fal. What are they ? let us know.

Hoit. I, come : quick.

Fal. I may not conceal them (fir.)

Hoit. Conceal them, or thou di'ft.

Sim. Why fir, they were nothing but about Miftris
Anne Page, to know if it were my Masters fortune to
have her or no.

Fal. 'Tis, 'tis his fortune.

Sim. What Sir,

Fal. To have her, or no: go; fay the woman told
me fo.

Sim. May I be bold to fay fo fir ?

Fal. I fir: like who more bold.

Sim. I thank your worſhip : I ſhall make my maſter
glad with theſe tidings.

Hoit. Thou art clarky : thou art clarkly ( Sir John )
was there a wife woman with thee ?

Fal. I, that there was (mine Hoſt) one that hath
taught me more wit, then ever I learn'd before in my life:
and I paid nothing for it neither, but was paid for my
learning.

Enter Bardolph.

Bar. Out alas (fir) cozonage: meer cozonage.

Hoit. Where be my horſes ? ſpeak well of them var-
letto.

Bar. Run away with the cozons: for ſo foon as I
came beyond Eaton, they threw me of from behinde
one of them in a flow of myre; and fet ſpurres, and
away; like three Germane-Devilſ; three Doctor Fau-
ſtuffes.

Hoit. They are gone but to meet the Duke (villaine)
do not ſay they be fled: Germanes are honest men.

Enter Evans.

Evan. Where is mine Hoſt?

Hoit. What is the matter fir ?

Evan. Have a care of your entertainments: there is a
friend of mine come to town, tells me there is three. Co-
zen-Jermans, that has cozen'd all the Hoffs of Readinſons,
Maidenhead; of Cole-Brooke, of horſes and money: I
tell you for good wil (look you) you are wife, and full
of gibes, and vlounting-stocks: and 'tis not convenient
you should be cozen'd. Eare you well. Exit. Enter Caius.

Cai. Ver'is mine Hoſt de Farțeer ?

Hoit. Here (After Doctor) in perplexity and doubt-
full deſIGN.

Cai. I cannot tell what is dat: but it is tell-a-me, dat you
make a grand preparation for a Duke de Jamany: by my
trot : der is no Duke dat the Court is know, to come : I
tell you for good will : adieu.

Exit.

Hoit. Huy and cry (villane) goe: affift me Knight, I
am undone: flye, run: hu and cry (villaine) I am undone

Exit.

Fal. I would all the world might be cozen'd, for I
have been cozened and beaten too: if it ſhould come to
the ear of the Court, how I have been transform'd; and
how my transformation hath been wath'd and cudgel'd,
they would melt me out of my fat, drop by drop, and li-
quor. Fithermens boots with me: I warrant they would
whip me with their fine wits, till I were as creft-faln as
a dri'd Pear: I never prosper'd, ſince I forſwore my ſelf
at Primero: well, if my wind were but long enough; I
would repent: Now ? whence come you ?

Enter Quickly.

Qui. From the two parties forfooth.

Fal. The Devill take one party, and his Dam the

other: and ſo they ſhall be both beſtow'd; I have ſuffer'd
more for their takes; more than the villanous inconſtan-
cy of mans diſpoſition is able to bear.

Qui. And have not they ſuffer'd ? Yes, I warrant,
fpeciouſly one of then; Miftris Ford (good heart) is beaten
black and blew, that you cannot fee a white ſpot about
her.

Fal. What tell't thou me of black and blew? I was
beaten my ſelf into all the colours of the Rain-bow: and
I was like to be apprehended for the Witch of Brainſord,
but that my admirableness of wit, my counterfeiting
the action of an old Woman deliver'd me, the Knave
Conſtable had fet me ith' Stocks, ith' common Stocks for
a Witch.

Qui. Sir, let me ſpeak with you in your Chamber,
you ſhall hear how things go, and (I warrant) to your
content: here is a letter will ſay ſomewhat: (good hearts)
what a-do here is to bring you together? Sure one of
you do's not ſerve heaven well, that you are to croſſ'd.

Fal. Come up into my Chamber.

Exeunt.

## Scena Sexta.

Enter Fenton, Hoſt.

Hoit. Maſter Fenton, taſke not to me, my minde is
heavy: I will give over all.

Fen. Yet hear me ſpeak: affift me in my purpofe,
And (as I am a Gentleman) I'le give thee.

A hundred pound in gold, more then your loſs.

Hoit. I will hear you ( Maſter Fenton ) and I will (at
the leaſt) keep your counſil.

Fen. From time to time, I have acquainted you
With the dear love I bear to fair Anne Page,
Who, mutually, hath anſwer'd my affection,
(So far forth, as her ſelf might be her chufer )
Even to my wiſh; I have a letter from her
Of ſuch contents, as you will wonder at;
The mirth whereof, ſo larded with my matters,
That neither ſingly can be maniſeſted
Without the ſhow of both: ſat Sir John Falſaſſe
Hath a great Scene; the image of the jeſt
I'le ſhow you here at large (hark good mine Hoſt :)

To night at Hernes Oke, juſt 'twixt twelve and one,

Muſt my ſweet Nan preſent the Fairie Queen :

The purpofe why, is here: in which diſguſe

While other jeſts are ſomething rank on foot,

Her father hath commanded her to ſlip

Away with Slender, and with him at Eaton

Immediately to marry: She hath conſented: Now Sir,

Her mother, (even ſtrong against that match)

And firme for Doctor Caius) hath appointed

That he ſhall likewife ſhuffle her away,

While other ſports are tasking of their mindeſ,
And at the Deanry, where a Priſe attends

Straight marry her: to this her Mothers plot

She (leemingly obedient) likewife hath

Made promife to the Doctor: Now, thus it reſts,

Her father means the ſhall be all in white ;

And in that habit, when Slender ſees his time

To take her by the hand, and bid her go,

She ſhall go with him: her Mother hath intended
(The better to devote her to the Doctor ;

For they muſt all be mask'd and vizarded)

That

That

The merry Wives of WIndfor.

That quaint in green, the shall be loose enroab'd,
With Ribands-pendant, flaring 'bout her head;
And when the Doctor ies his vantage ripe,
To pinch her by the hand, and on that token,
The maid hath given consent to go with him.

Hosf. Which means she to deceive ? Father, or Mo-
ther ?

Fen. Both (my good Hoft) to go along with me,
And here it refts, that you'l procure the Vicar
To fly for me at Church, 'twixt twelve and one,
And in the lawfull name of marrying,
To give our hearts united ceremony.

Hosf. Well, husband your device; I'le to the Vicar,
Bring you the Maid, you shall not lack a Priest.

Fen. So shall I evermore be bound to thee ;

Befides, I'le make a preſent recompence.
Exeunt.

Altus Quintus, Scena Prima.

Enter Falſtaffe, Quickly, and Ford.

Fal. Prethee no more prating : go, I'le hold, this is the third time : I hope good luck lies in odde numbers, A-way, go, they fay there is Divinity in odde numbers, ei-ther in Nativity, chance, or death : away.

Qui. I'le provide you a chain, and I'le do what I can
to get you a pair of horns,

Fal. Away I fay, time wears, hold up your head and
mince. How now M. Broom ? Master Broom, the mat-
ter will be known to night, or never. Be you in the
Parke about midnight, at Hernes-Oake, and you shall
fee wonders.

Ford. Went you not to her yefterday (Sir) as you told
me you had appointed ?

Fal. I went to her (Master Broom) as you fee, like a
poor-old-man, But I came from her (Master Broom)
like a poor-old-woman; that fame Knave (Ford her hut-
band) hath the finest mad Devil of jealouſe in him (Ma-
fter Broom) that ever govern'd Frenzie. I will tell you,
he beat me grievouſly, in the ſhape of a woman: (for in
the ſhape of a man (Master Broom) I fear nor Goliah
with a Weavers beam, (because I know alſo, life is a
Shuttle) I am in hafe, go along with me, I'le tell you alı
(Master Broom:) since I pluckt Geefe, plaid Trewant
and whipt Top, I knew not what 'twas to be beaten, till
lately. Follow me I'le tell you ſtrange things of this
Knave Ford, on whom to night I will be revenged, and I
will deliver his wife into your hand. Follow, ſtrange
things in hand (Master Broom) follow.
Exeunt.

Scena Secunda.

Enter Page, Shallow Slender.

Page. Come, come : we'll couch i'th Cattle-ditch,
till we fee the light of our Fairies, Remember ſon Slender,
my daughter.

Slen. I forfooth, I have spoke with her, and we have
a nay-word how to know one another. I come to her
in white, and cry Mum; ſhe cryes Budget, and by that

we know one another.

Shal. That's good too : but what needs either your
Mum, or her Budget? The white will decipher her well
enough. It hath ftruck ten a'clock.

Page. The night is dark, Light and Spirits will be-
come it well: Heaven proſer our ſport. No man means
evil but the Devil, and we shall know him by his horns.
Let's away: follow me.
Exeunt.

Scena Tertia.

Enter Mif. Page, Mif. Ford, Cains.

Mifl. Page. Mr. Doctor, my daughter is in green, when
you fee your time, take her by the hand, away with her
to the Deanry, and dispatch it quickly : goe before into
the Park : we two muſt go together.

Cai. I know var I have to do, adieu.

Exit.

Mif. Page. Fare you well (for) my husband will not re-
joyce so much at the abuse of Falſtaffe, as he will chafe at
the Doctors marrying my daughter: But 'tis no matter;
better a little chiding, then a great deal of heart-break.

Mif. Ford. Where is Nan now ? and her troop of
Fairies ? and the Welch Devil Herne.

Mif. Page. They are all couch'd in a pit hard by Hernes
Oak, with obſcured Lights; which at the very inſtant
of Falſtaffes and our meeting, they will at once diſplay
to the night.

Mif. Ford. That cannot choofe but amaze him.

Mif. Page. If he be not amaz'd he will be mock'd: If
he be amaz'd, he will be mock'd.

Mif. Ford. Wee'll betray him finely.

Mif. Page. Againſt ſuch Lewdſters, and their Lechery,
Thofe that betray them do no trechery.

Mif. Ford. The hour drawes on: to the Oak, to the
Oake.
Exeunt.

Scena Quarta.

Enter Evans and Fairies.

Evans. Trib, trib, Fairies: Come, and remember your
parts: be pold (I pray you) follow me into the pit, and
when I give the watch-ords: do as I bid you: come,
come, trib, trib.
Exeunt.

Scena Quinta.

Enter Falſtaffe, Miftris Page, Miftris Ford, Evans,
Anne Page, Fairies, Page, Ford, Quickly
Slender, Fenton, Cains, Piftoll.

Fal. The Windfor Bell hath ftruck twelve: the Mi-
nute drawes on: Now the hot-bloudied-god affixt me :
Remember Jove, thou waſt a Bull for thy Europa, Love
ſet on thy horns. O powerfull Love, that in ſome re-
ſpects mak'sa Beaſt a Man: in ſome other, a Man, a Beaſt.
You were alſo (Jupiter) a Swan, for the love of Leda: O
omnipo-

The merry Wives of Windsor.

59

omnipotent Love, how nere the God drew to the complexion of a Goose : a fault done first in the forme of a Beaſt, (O Jove, a beaſtly fault:) and then another fault, in the Temblance of a Fowle, think on't (Jove) a fowlefault. When gods have hot backs, what ſhall poor men doe ? For me, I am here a Windsor Stag, and the farſett (I think) i'th Forreſt. Send me a coole rut-time (Jove) or who can blame me to piffe my Tallow ? Who comes here ? my Doe ?

M. Ford. Sir John ? Art thou there (my Deer) ?

My male-Deer ?

Fal. My Doe with the black Scut ? Let the skie rain Potatoes : let it thunder, to the tune of Green-fleeves, hail-kiffing Comfits, and ſnow Eringoes : Let there come a tempeſt of provocation, I will shelter me here.

M. Ford. Miftris Page is come with me (sweetheart.)

Fal. Divide me like a Briſd'-Buck, each a Haunch : I will keep my fides to my ſelf, my ſhoulders for the fellow of this walke ; and my hornes I bequeath my husbands. Am I a Woodman, ha ? Speak I like Herne the Hunter ? Why, now is Cupid a child of Conſcience, he makes reſtitution. As I am a true ſpirit, welcome.

M. Page. Alas, what noſye ?

M. Ford. Heaven forgive our fins.

Fal. What should this be ?

M. Ford. M. Page. Away, away.

Fal. I think the Devil will not have me damn'd, Leafe the Oyle that's in me should fet hell on fire ; He would never eſſe croſs me thus.

Enter Fairies.

Qui. Fairies, black, gray, green, and white, You Moon-ſhine Revellers, and ſhades of night, You Orophans heis of fixed deſtiny, Attend your office, and your quality.

Crier Hob-goblin, make the Fairy Oyes.

Pisſ. Elves, lift your names : Silence you airy toyes.

Cricket, to Windsor Chimneys ſhalt thou leap : Where fires thou find'ft unrak'd, and Hearths unſwept, There pinch the Maids as blue as Bilbery, Our radiant Queen hates Sluts and fluttery.

Fal. They are Fairies, he that ſpeaks to them ſhall die. I'll wink and couch : No man their works muſt eye.

Ev. Where's Bede ? Go you, and where you find a Maid That ere the ſleep has thrice her prayers ſaid, Raſſe up the Organs of her ſantafie, Sleep ſhe as found as carelesſe infancy, But thofe as ſleep and think not on their fins, Pinch them, armes, legs, backs, ſhoulders, fides and ſkins. Qui. About, about :

Search Windsor Castle (Elves) within, and out.

Strew good luck (Elves) on every facred room, That it may rand till the perpetuall doome, In ſtate as wholſome, as in ſtate 'tis fit, Worthy the Owner, and the Owner it. The ſeveral Chairs of Order, looke you ſowre, With joyce of Balme ; and every precious flowre, Each fair Inſtallment, Coat and ſev'r'al Creſt, With loyal Blazon evermore be bleſt.

And Nightly-medow-Fairies, looke you ſing Like to the Garrer-Compas in a Ring, Th' expreſſure that it bears : Green let it be, More fertile freer than all the field to fee : And, Hony Soir Qui Mal-y-Panſe, write In Emrold-tuffes, Flowers, purple, blue, and white, Like Saphire-pearle, and rich Embroiderie,

Buckled below fair Knight-hoods bending knee ;

Fairies uſe Flowers for their Characterie,
Away, diſperſe : But till 'tis one a clock,
Our dance of custome round about the Oke
Of Herne the Hunter, let us not forget.

Ev. Pray you lock hand in hand, your ſelves in order fet. And twenty Glow-worms ſhall our Lant-horns be To guide our Meaſure round about the tree. But ſtay, I ſmell a man of middle earth.

Fal. Heavens defend me from that Welch Fairie,
Left he transſorme me to a peecie of Cheeſe.

Pisſ. Vilde worm, thou wſot ore-look'd even in thy birth.

Qui. With triall-fire touch me his finger end : If he chaſſe, the flame will back defend And turn him to no pain : but if he ſtart, It is the fleſh of a corrupted heart.

Pisſ. A triall, come.

Evans. Come, will this wood take fire ?

Fal. Oh, oh, oh.

Qui. Corrupt, corrupt, and tainted in defire. About him (Fairies) ſing a ſcornfull Rime, And as you trip, ſtill pinch him to your time.

The Song.

Fie on ſinfull phantafie: Fie on Lust and Luxurie :

Luſt is but a blondy fire, kindled with unchaſt desire.

Fed in heart whose flames aspire,

As thoughts do blow them higher and higher.

Pinch him (Fairies) mutually: pinch him for his Villanie.

Pinch him, and burn him, and turn him about,

Till Candles, and Star-light, and Moon-shine be out.

Page. Nay do not flye, I think I have watcht you now : Will none but Herne the Hunter ſerve your turn ?

M. Page. I pray you come, hold up the jeſt no higher. Now (good Sir John) how like you Windsor Wives ? See you theſe husbands ? Do not theſe fair Okes Become the Forreſt better then the Town ?

Ford. Now Sir, who's a Cuckold now ?

Mr. Broom, Falſtaſſe's a Knave, a Cuckoldly Knave, Here are his horns Maſter Broom :

And Maſter Broom, he hath enjoyed nothing of Fords, but his buck-basket, his Cudgell, and twenty pounds of money, which muſt be paid to Mr. Broom, his horſes are arreſted for it, M. Brooms.

M. Ford. Sir John, we have had ill luck : we could neuer meet : I will never take you for my Love again, but I will alwayse count you my Deer.

Fal. I do begin to perſence that I am made an Aſſe.

Ford. I, and an Oxe to : both the proofes are exant.

Fal. And theſe are not Fairies : I was three or four times in the thought they were not Fairies, and yet the guiltineſs of my minde, the ſoſtain ſurprize of my powers, drove the groſſneſſe of the ſopery into a receiv'd belief, in deſpight of the teeth of all rime and reaſon, that they were Fairies. See now how wit may be made a Jack-a-Lent, when 'tis upon ill employment.

Evan. Sir John Falſtaſſe, ſerve Got, and leave your defires, and Fairies will not pinſe you.

Ford. Well faid Fairy Hugh.

Evan. And leave you your jealousies too, I pray you.

Ford.

62

Measure for Measure.

## *Scena secunda.*

Enter Lucio, and two other Gentlemen.

Luc. If the Duke, with the other Dukes, come not to composition with the King of Hungary, why then all the Dukes fall upon the King.

1 Gent. Heaven grant us its peace, but not the King of Hugaryes.

2 Gent. Amen.

Luc. Thou conclud'st like the Sanctimonious Pyrat, that went to Sea with the ten Commandements, but forad' one out of the Table.

2 Gent. Thou shalt not feale ?

Luc. I, that he raz'd.

1 Gent. Why ? 'twas a Commandement to command the Captain and all the rest from their functions : they put forth to feale : There's not a Souldier of us all, that in the thanksgiving before meat, do rellish the petition well that prays for peace.

2 Gent. I never heard any Souldier dislike it.

Luc. I believe thee : for I think thou never was't where Grace was faid.

2 Gent. No? a dozen times at leaft.

1 Gent. What ? in meeter ?

Luc. In any proportion, or in any language.

1 Gent. I think, or in any Religion.

Luc. I, why not ? Grace, is Grace, despight of all controversy : as for example ; Thou thy self art a wicked villain, despight of all Grace.

1 Gent. Well : there went but a paire of scoors between us.

Luc. I grant : as there may between the Lifts and the Velver. Thou art the Lift.

1 Gent. And thou the Velvet ; thou art good Velvet ; thou'rt a three pil'd-piece I warrant thee : I had as lief be a Lift of an English Kerfey, as be pil'd, as thou art pil'd, for a French Velvet. Do I speak feelingly now ?

Luc. I think thou doft : and indeed with moft painfull feeling of thy speech : I will, out of thine own confection, learn to begin thy health ; but whilk I live, forget to drink after thee.

1 Gent. I think I have done my self wrong, have I not ?

2 Gent. Yes, that thou haft ; whether thou art tainted, or free. Enter Bawd.

Luc. Behold, behold, where Madam Mitigation comes. I have purchas'd as many difeafes under her Roofe, As come to—

2 Gent. To what I pray?

Luc. Judge.

2 Gent. To three thoufand Dollours a year.

1 Gent. I, and more.

Luc. A French crown more.

1 Gent. Thou art always figuring difeafes in me ; but thou art full of error, I am found.

Luc. Nay, nor (as one would fay) healthy : but fo found, as things that are hollow ; thy bones are hollow; Impiety has made a feast of thee.

1 Gent. How now, which of your hips has the moft profound Sciatica ?

Bawd. Well, well: There's one yonder arrefted, and carried to prifon, was worth five thoufand of you all.

2 Gent. Who's that I prethee ?

Bawd. Murry fir, that's Claudio, Signior Claudio.

1 Gent. Claudio to prifon ? 'tis not fo.

Bawd. Nay, but I know 'tis fo : I faw him arrefted ; faw him carried away : and which is more, within thefe three dayes his head to be chopt off.

Lnc. But, after all this fooling, I would not have it fo : Art thou fure of this ?

Bawd. I am too fure of it : and it is for getting Madam Juliana with child.

Luc. Believe me this may be : he promised to meet me two hours hence, and he was ever precife in promife-keeping.

2 Gent. Besides you know, it draws something neere to the ſpeech we had to ſuch a purpofe.

1 Gent. But moſt of all agreeing with the Proclamation.

Luc. Away, let's go learn the truth of it.

Exeunt.

Bawd. Thus, what with the war; what with the ſwear, what with the gallowes, and what with poverty, I am cuſome-thrunke. How now ? what's the newes with you ? Enter Clowne.

Clown. Yonder man is carried to prifon.

Baw. Well: what has he done ?

Clown. A woman.

Baw. But what's his offence ?

Clown. Groping for Trowts, in a peculiar River.

Baw. What ? is there a Maid with child by him ?

Clown. No: but there's a woman with Maid by him: you have not heard of the Proclamation, have you ?

Baw. What Proclamation, man ?

Clown. All houſes in the Suburbes of Vienna muſt be pluck'd down.

Baw. And what shall become of thofe in the Citie ?

Clown. They shall ſtand for feed : they had gone down too, but that a wife Burger put in for them.

Baw. But ſhall all our houſes of refort in the Suburbes be pull'd down?

Clown. To the ground Miftris.

Baw. Why here's a change indeed in the Commonwealth: what ſhall become of me ?

Clown. Come: feare not you: good Counſellours lack no Clients: though you change your place, you need not change your Trade: He be your Tapfter till; courage, there will be pitty taken on you; you that have worn your eyes almoſt out in the ſervice, you will be confidered.

Bawd. What's to do here, Thomas Tapfter ? let's withdraw.

Clown. Here comes Signior Claudio, led by the Provoft to prifon : and there's Madam Juliana.

## *Scena tertia.*

Enter Provoſt, Claudio, Juliet, Officers, Lucio, and two Gent. Clau.

Cla. Fellow, why doſt thou ſhow me thus to th' world ? Beare me to prifon, where I am committed.

Pro. I do it not in evill diſpoſition, But from Angelo by ſpeciall charge.

Cla. Thus can the demy-god (Authority) Make us pay down, for our offence, by waight The words of heaven; on whom it will, it will,

On whom it will not (fo) yet fill tis juſt. (Afraint.

Luc. Why how now Claudio ? whence comes this re-

Cla. From too-much liberty, (my Lucio ) liberty,

As furſet is the father of much faſt,

So every ſcope by the immoderate uſe

Turnes to reſtraint : our Natures do purſue

Like

Measure for Measure.

63

Like Rats that ravin down their proper Bane,
A thirty evil, and when we drink, we die.

Luc. If I could speak so wisely, under an arreft, I
would fend for certain of my Creditors: and yet, to say
the truth, I had as lieſe have the foppery of freedome,
as the mortality of imprisonment: what's thy offence,
Claudio?

Cla. What (but to speak of) would offend againe.

Luc. What is't murder?

Cla. No.

Luc. Lechery?

Cla. Call it so.

Pro. Away, fir, you muſt go.

Cla. One word, good friend:

Lucio, a word with you.

Luc. A hundred:

If they'll do you any good: Is Lechery fo' look'd after?

Cla. Thus stands it with me: upon a true contract
I got poſſection of *Julietta's* bed,
You know the Lady, the is faſt my wife,
Save that we do the denunciation lack
Of outward Order. This we came not to,
Only for propagation of a Dowrd.

Remaining in the Coffer of her friends,
From whom we thought it meet to hide our Love
Till Time had made them for us. But it chances
The fealth of our moſt mutual entertainment
With Character too groſſe, is writ in *Juliet*.

Luc. With Childe, perhaps?

Cla. Unhappily, even so.

And the new Deputy, now for the Duke,
Whether it be the fault and glimpſe of newneſſe,
Or whether that the body publique, be
A horſe whereon the Governour doth ride,
Who newly in the ſeat, that it may know
He can command; lets it ſtrait feel the ſpur;
Whether the tyranny be in his place,
Or in his eminence that ſils it up
I ſagger in: But this new Governour
Awakes me all the enrolled penalties
Which have (like unſcow'd Armour) hung by th'wall
So long, that nineteen Zodiacks have gone round,
And none of them been worn; and for a name
Now puts the drowſe and neglected Act
Freshly on me: 'tis ſurely for a name.

Luc. I warrant it is: and thy head stands so tickle on thy shoulders, that a Milk-maid, if she be in love, may fight it off: Send after the Duke and appeale to him.

Cla. I have done so, but he's not to be found.

I prethee (*Lucio*) do me this kinde ſervice:
This day, my ſifter should the Cloyſter enter,
And there receive her approbation.

Acquaint her with the danger of my ſtate,
Implore her, in my voyce, that she make friends
To the ſtrict Deputy: bid her ſelf afflay him,
I have great hope in that: for in her youth
There is a prone and ſpeechleſſe Dialect,
Such as move men: beſide ſhe hath proſperous Art
When ſhe will play with reafon, and diſcourse,
And well ſhe can perſwade.

Luc. I pray ſhe may; as well for the encouragement
of the like, which eſſe would stand upon grievous impo-
ſition: as for the enjoying of thy life, who I would be for-
ry should be thus fooliſhly loft, at a game of Tick-tack:
Ile to her.

Cla. I thank you good friend *Lucio*.

Luc. Within two hours.

Cla. Come Officer, away.

Exeunt.

## Scena Quarta.

Enter Duke and Frier Thomas.

Duke. No: holy Father, throw away that thought,
Believe not that the dribbling dart of love
Can pierce a compleat boſome: why, I define thee
To give me ſecret harbour, hath a purpofe
More grave and wrinkled, than the aimes and ends
Of burning youth.

Fri. May your Grace speak of it.

Duke. My holy fir, none better knows than you
How I have ever lov'd the life remov'd
And held in idle price, to haunt aſſembles
Where youth and coſt, and witleſſe bravery keeps
I have delivered to Lord *Angelo*

(A man of ſtricture and firme abſtinence)
My absolute power, and place here in *Viennæ*,
And he ſuppofes me travail'd to *Poland*,

(For fo I have flew'd it in the common eare)
And fo it is receiv'd: Now (pious fir)
You will demand of me, why I do this.

Fri. Gladly, my Lord.

Duke. We have ſtrict Statutes, and moſt biting Laws,
(The needfull bits and curbs for head-ſtrong weeds,)
Which for this fourteen years, we have let slip,
Even like an ore-grown Lyon in a Cave

That goes not out to prey: Now, as fond Fathers,
Having bound up the threatening twigs of Birch,
Only to ſlick it in their childrens fight,
For error, not to uſe: in time the rod
More mock'd than fear'd: ſo our Decrees,
Dead to infiſtion, to themſelves are dead,
And liberty plucks Juſtice by the noſe;
The Baby beats the Nurſe, and quite athwart
Goes all decorum.

Fri. It reſted in your Grace

To unlooke this tyde-up Juſtice, when you pleas'd:
And it in you more dreaſull would have ſeem'd
Than in Lord *Angelo*.

Duke. I do feare, too dreadfull:
Sith 'twas my fault to give the people ſcope,
'Twould be my tyranny to ſtrike and gall them,
For what I bid them do: For we bid this be done
When evill deeds have their permiffive pafle,
And not the puniſhment: therefore indeed (my father)
I have on *Angelo* impos'd the offiſe,
Who may in th'ambuſh of my name, ſtrike home,
And yet, my nature never in the fight

To do in ſlander: And to behold his ſway
I will, as 'twere a brother of your Order,
Visit both Prince and people: Therefore I prethee
Supply me with the habit, and inſtruct me
How I may formally in perſon beare

Like a true Frier: Moe reaſons for this action
At your more leiſure, (thall I render you;)

Only this one: Lord *Angelo* is precife,
Stands at a guard with Envie: ſcarce conſeſſes
That his blood flowes: or that his appetite
Is more to bread than flone: hence ſhall we fee

If power change purpofe: what our Seemers t Exeunt.

Scena

F 2

arreſt'd,
within the
have it for
ting Ma-
d to meet
promife
ing neere
alation.
Exeunt.
the ſwear,
erry, I am
es with

r.
by him
u?
muſt be
Citie? no
down
Suburbe
Common-
ours lack
need not
age, there
your eyes
t's with-
the Prov
e Provo
Exeunt.

o Gent.
world.

o Gent.
world.

o Gent.
world.

(draint)
this re-
erry,
Like

Like

Measure for Measure.

65

Another thing to fall : I not deny
The Jury paffing on the prisoners life
May in the Sworn-twelve have a theef, or two
Guiltier than him they try ; what's open made to Juſtice,
That Juſtice ceizes ; What knows the Laws
That theeves do paffe on theeves ? 'Tis very pregnant,
The Jewel that we finde, we floop, and take't,
Because we fee it ; but what we do not fee,
We read upon, and never think of it.
You may not do extenuate his offence,
Fot I have had fuch faults; but rather tell me
When I, that cenſure him, do ſo offend,
Let mine own Judgement pattern out my death,
And nothing come in partiall. Sir, he muſt die.

Enter Provoſt.

Eſc. Be it as your wifedome will.

Ang. Where is the Provoſt ?

Pro. Here if it like your Honour.

Ang. See that Claudis

Be executed by nine to morrow morning,
Bring him his Conſeſſor, let him be prepar'd,
For that's the utmoſt of his Pilgrimage.

Eſc. Well : heaven forgive him ; and forgive us all :
Some life by fine, and ſome by vertue full :
Some Run from brakes of Ice, and anſwer none,
And ſome condemned for a ſault alone.

Enter Elbow, Froth, Clowne, Officers.

Elb. Come, bring them away : if there be good people
in a Common-weale, that do nothing but uſe their a-
bufes in common houſes, I know no law : bring them a-
way.

Ang. How now fir, what's your name? And what's the matter?

Elb. If it pleafe your honour, I am the poor Dukes Conſtable, and my name is Elbow ; I do leane upon Juſtice fir, and do bring in here before your good honour, two notorious Benefactors.

Ang. Benefactors ? Well : What Benefactors are they ?
Are they not Malefactors ?

Elb. If it pleafe your honour, I know not well what
they are : But precife villaines they are, that I am ſure of,
and voyd of all prophanation in the world, that good
Christians ought to have.

Eſc. This comes off well : here's a wife Officer.

Ang. Go to : What quality are they of ? Elbow
your name ?

Why doſt thou not ſpeak Elbow ?

Clo. He cannot fir : he's out at Elbow.

Ang. What are you fir ?

Elb. He fir, a Tapfter fir : parcell Bawd : one that
ferves a bad woman : whose houſe fir was ( as they ſay)
pluckt down in the Suburbs : and now the proſeffes a
hot-houſe ; which, I think is a very ill houſe too.

Eſc. How know you that ?

Elb. My wife Sir, whom I dereſt before heaven and
your honour.

Eſc. How ? thy wife ?

Elb. I Sir : whom I thank heaven is an honest wo-
man.

Eſea. Do't thou dereſt her therefore ?

Elb. I ſay fir, I will dereſt my ſelf alſo, as well as the
that this houſe, if it be not a Bawds houſe, it is pitty of her
life, for it is a naughty houſe.

Eſea. How do't thou know that, Conſtable ?

Elb. Marry fir, by my wife, who, if he had been a wo-
man Cardinally g ven, might have been accus'd in forni-

cation, adultery, and all uncleannefle there.

Eſc. By the womans means ?

Elb. I fir, by Miftris Over-dons means : but as the ſpit
in his face, to the defi'd him.

Clo. Sir, if it pleafe your honour, this is not ſo.

Elb. Prove it before theſe Varlets here, thou honoura-
ble man, prove it.

Eſc. Do you hear how he miſplaces ?

Clo. Sir, the came in great with child ; and longing
(faving your honors ſeverence) for ſtew'd Prewynes ; fir,
we had but two in the houſe, which at that very instant
time flood, as it were in a fruit diſh, (a diſh of ſome three
pence ; your honours have ſeen ſuch diſhes ) they are not
China-diſhes, but very good diſhes.

Eſc. Go too, go too : no matter for the diſh fir.

Clo. No indeed fir not of a pin ; you are therein the
right : but, to the point : as I ſay, this Miftris Elbow, being
(as I ſay) with child, and being great bellied, and longing
(as I ſaid) for Prewynes : and having no more in the diſh
(as I ſaid) Maſter Froth here, this very man, having eaten
the reſt (as I ſaid) and (as I ſay) paying for them very ho-
neſtly : for, as you know Maſter Froth, I could not give
you three pence again.

Fro. No indeed.

Clo. Very well : you being then (if you be remembred)
cracking the ſlones of the foreſaid Prewyns.

Fro. I, so I did indeed.

Clo. Why, very well : I telling you then (if you be
remembred ) that ſuch a one, and ſuch a one, were paſt
cure of the thing you wot of, unleſſe they kept very good
dyer, as I told you.

Fro. All this is true.

Clo. Why very well then.

Eſc. Come : you are a tedious fool : to the purpufe : what was done to Elbows wife, that he hath cauſe to com-
plain of ? Come me to what was done to her.

Clo. Sir, your honour cannot come to that yet.

Eſc. No fir, nor I mean it not.

Clo. Sir, but you shall come to it, by your Honours
leave : And I beſeech you, look into Maſter Froth here
fir, a man of four ſcore pound a year ; whose Father
dyed at Hallowmas : Was not at Hallowmas Maſter
Froth ?

Fro. All-hallond-Eve.

Clo. Why very well : I hope here he truths : he Sir,
fitting (as I ſay) in a lower Chaire, Sir, 'twas in the bunch
of Grapes, where indeed you have a delight to fit, have
you not ?

Fro. I have ſo, becauſe it is an open room, and good
for Winter.

Clo. Why very well then : I hope here be truths.

Ang. This will laſt out a night in Ruffed,
When nights are longeſt there : He take my leave,
And leave you to the hearing of the cauſe.

Hoping you'll find good cauſe to whip them all.

Exit.
Eſc. I think no leſſe : good morrow to your Lordship.

Now fir, come on : What was done to Elbows wife, once
more ?

Clo. Once fir ? there was nothing done to her once.

Elb. I beſeech you fir, ask him what this man did to
my wife.

Clo. I beſeech your honour, ask me.

Eſc. Well fir, what did this Gentleman to her ?

Clo. I beſeech you fir, look in this Gentlemans face :
good Maſter Froth look upon his honour ; 'tis for a good
purpufe ; doth your honour mark his face ?

F 3

Eſc. I

Measure for Measure.

## Scena Secunda.

Enter Provoſt, Servant.

Ser. Hee's hearing of a Caufe; he will come straight,
I'le tell him of you.

Pro. Pray you do; Ile know

His pleasure, may be he will relent; alas

He hath but as offended in a dream,

All Seeds, all Ages ſmack of this vice, and he

To dye for't !

Enter Angelo.

Ang. Now, what's the matter Provoſt ?

Pro. Is it your will Claudio shall dye to morrow ?

Ang. Did not I tell thee yea? hadst thou not order ?

Why doſt thou ask again ?

Pro. Left I might be too raſh :

Under your good correction, I have been

When after execution, Judgement hath

Repented ore his doom.

Ang. Go to : let that be mine,

Do you your office, or give up your Place,

And you shall well be ſpar'd.

Pro. I crave your Honors pardon :

What shall be done fir, with the groaning Jnliet ?

Shee's very neer her houre.

Ang. Difpofe of you.

To ſome more firer place's and that with ſpeed.

Ser. Here is the firer of the man condemn'd,

Defines acceſſe to you.

Ang. Hath he a firſer ?

Pro. I my good Lord, a very vertuous maid,

And to be ſhortly of a firſer-hood,

If not already.

Ang. Well: let her be admitted,

See you the Fornicatrefſe be remov'd.

Let her have needfull, but not lavilſh means,

There ſhall be order for't.

Enter Lucio, and Isabella.

Pro. 'Save your Honor,

Ang. Stay a little while: y'are welcome: what's your

Isab. I am a wofull Sutor to your Honor,

(will ?) Pleafe but your Honor hear me.

Ang. Well: what's your ſuite ?

Isab. There is a vice that muſt I do abhorre,

And muſt define should meet the blow of juſtice;

For which I would not plead, but that I muſt,

For which I muſt not plead, but that I am

At warre, twixt will, and will not.

Ang. Well: let the matter ?

Isab. I have a brother that is condemn'd to dye,

I do beſeech you let it be his fault,

And not my brother.

Pro. Heaven give thee moving graces.

Ang. Condemn the fault, and not the aſtor of it,
Why every fault's condemn'd ere it be done :

Mine were the very Cipher of a Function.

To fine the faults, whose ſine stands in record,

And let go by the Aſtor.

Isab. Oh juſt, but ſevere law :

I had a brother then; heaven keep your honor.

Luc. Give 't not ore to: to him again, enereat him,
Kneel down before him, hang upon his gown,

You are too cold: if you should need a pin,

You could not with more tame a tongue define it :

To him, I ſay.

Isab. Muſt he needs dye?

Ang. Maiden, no remedy.

Isab. Yes: I do think that you might pardon him,

And neither heaven, nor man grieve at the mercy.

Ang. I will not do't.

Isab. But can you if you would ?

Ang. Look what I will not, that I cannot do!

Isab. But might you do't and do the world no wrong

If ſo your heart were touch'd with that remorſe,

As mine is to him ?

Ang. Hee's ſentenc'd, tis too late.

Luc. You are too cold.

Isab. Too late ? why ſo: I that do ſpeak a word,

May call it back again: well, believe this

No ceremony that to great ones longs,

Not the Kings Crown; nor the deputed ſword,

The Marthals Truncheon, nor the Judges Robe

Become them with one half ſo good a grace

As mercy does: If he had been as you, and you as he,

You would have flipt like him, but he like you

Would not have been ſo ſtern.

Ang. Pray you be gone.

Isab. I would to heaven I had your potency,

And you were Isabell: should it then be thus ?

No: I would tell what 'were to be a judge,

And what a prifieron.

Luc. I touch him: there's the veine.

Ang. Your brother is a forfeit of the Law,

And you but wafe your words.

Isab. Alas, alas :

Why all the fouls that were, were forfeit once,

And he that might the vantage beſt have took,

Found out the remedy: how would you be,

If he, which is the top of judgement, ſhould

But judge you, as you are? Oh, think on that,

And mercy then will breathe within your lips

Like man new made.

Ang. Be you content, (faire Maid)

It is the Law, not I, condemn your brother,

Were he my kinfman, brother, or my fon ;

It ſhould be thus with him: he muſt dye to morrow.

Isab. To morrow ? oh, that's ſudden,

Spare him, ſpare him :

Hee's not prepar'd for death; even for our kirchins

We kill the fowle of ſeafon: ſhall we ſerve heaven

With leſſe reſpect then we do minifter

To our groſſe-felves ? good, good my Lord, bethink you ;

Who is it that hath di'd for this offence ?

There's many have committed it.

Luc. I., well ſaid.

Ang. The Law hath not been dead, though it hath flept

Thofe many had not dar'd to do that evil

If the firſt, that did th'Edict infringe

Had anſwer'd for his deed. Now 'tis awake,

Takes note of what is done, and like a Prophet

Looks in a glaſſe that ſhews what future evils

Either now, or by remiſneſs, new conceiv'd,

And ſo in progreſs to be hatch'd, and born,

Are now to have no ſucceſſive degrees,

But here they live to end.

Isab. Yet ſhow ſome pitty.

Ang. I ſhew it moſt of all, when I ſhow Juſtice ;
For then I pitcy that ſo I do not know,

Which a diſmis'd offence would after gaule

And

Measure for Measure.

69

Duk. 'Tis meet so (daughter) but least you do repent
As that the finne hath brought you to this shame,
Which sorrow is always toward our felves, not heaven,
Showing we would not spare heaven, as we love it,
But as we stand in feare.

Duk. I do repent me, as it is an evil,
And take the shame with joy.

Duk. There reft:
Your partner (as I heare) must dye to morrow,
And I am going with infruption to him:
Grace go with you, Benedicte.
Exit.

Jul. Must dye to morrow ? oh injurious love
That relpits me a life, whose very comfort
Is full a dying horror.

Pro. 'Tis pity of him.

Exeunt.

## Scena Quarta.

### Enter Angelo.

An. When I would pray, and think, I think, and pray
To severall subjects: heaven hath my empty words,
Whilft my Invention, hearing not my Tongue,
Anchors on Ifabell: heaven in my mouth,
As if I did but only chew his name,
And in my heart the strong and swelling illv
Of my conception: the tare whereon I studied
Is like a good thing, being often read
Crowne feard, and tedious: yea, my Gravity
Wherein (let no man heare me) I take pride,
Could I, with boore, change for an idle plume
Which the ayre beats for vaine: oh place! oh form!
How often doft thou watch thy cafe, tiny habit
Wrench awe from fools, and eye the wifer fouls
To thy falfe feeming? Blood, thou art blood,
Let's write good Angell on the Devils horne,
'Tis not the devills Creft: how now ? who's there?

### Enter Servant.

Ser. One Ifabell, a fitter, defires acceffe to you,
Ang. Teach her the way: oh, heavens
Why doe's my blood thus mufter to my heart,

Making both it unable for it self,
And diſpoſſing all my other parts
Of neceffary fitneſſe ?

So play the fooliſh throngs with one that fwounds,
Come all to help him, and ſo ſtop the ayre

By which he should revive : and even ſo
The general ſubject to a wel-wiſht King

Quit their own part, and in obſequious fondneſſe
Crowd to his prefence, where their untaight love
Muſt needs appeare offence: how now faire Maid ?

### Enter Ifabella.

Iſa. I am come to know your pleafure.

(me,

An. That you might know it, would much better pleafe
Then to demand what 'tis : your brother cannot live.

Iſa. Even ſo: heaven keep your Honor.

An. Yet may he live a while: and it may be
As long as you, or I: yet he muſt dye.

Iſab. Under your Sentence ?

Ang. Yea.

Iſab. When, I beſeech you ? that in his Reprieve
( Longer, or shorter ) he may be ſo fitted
That, his foul ſicken not.

Ang. Ha ? ſie, theseſe filthy vices: It were as good

To pardon him, that hath from nature ſolne
A man already made, as to remit

Their fawcy ſweetneſſe, that do coyne heavens Image
In ſtamps that are forbid: 'tis all as eafe,

Falfely to take away a life true made,
As to put merſtle in reſtrained means

To make a falſe one.

Iſab. 'Tis ſet down ſo in heaven, but not in earth.

Ang. Say you ſo: then I haſt poze you quickly.

Which had you rather, that the moſt juſt Law
Now took your brothers life, and to redeem him
Give up your body to ſuch ſweet uncleanneſſe,
As ſhe that he hath ſtaind ?

Iſab. Sir, believe this,

I had rather give my body, than my foul.

Ang. I talk not of your foul : our compel'd finnes
Stand more for number, than for accompt.

Iſab. How ſay you ?

Ang. Nay Ile not warrant that : for I can ſpeak
A gainſt the thing I ſay: Anſwer to this,
I ( now the voyce of the recorded Law)
Pronounce a ſentence on your brothers life,

Might there not be a charity in finne,
To ſave this brothers life ?

Iſab. Pleafe you to do't,

He take it as a perill to my foul,
It is no finne at all, but charity.

Ang. Pleaſ'd you to do't, at perill of your foul
Were equal poize of finne, and charity.

Iſab. That I do beg his life, if it be finne
Heaven let me beare it; you granting of my ſuit,
If that be finne, Ile make it my Morne-prayer,
To have it added to the faults of mine,
And nothing of your anſwer.

Ang. Nay, but hear me.

Your fence purſues not mine: either you are ignorant,
Or ſeem ſo crafty ; and that's not good.

Iſab. Let me be ignorant, and in nothing good,
But graciously to know I am no better.

Ang. Thus wifdome wishes to appear moſt bright,
When it doth tax it ſelf: As theſe black Maſques
Proclaime an en-ſhield beauty ten times louder
Than beauty could diſplayed: But mark me,
To be received plain, Ile ſpeak more groſſe:
Your brother is to dye.

Iſab. So.

Ang. And his offence is ſo, as it appears,
Accountant to the Law, upon that paine.

Iſab. True.

Ang. Admit no other way to ſave his life
(As I subſcribe not that, nor any other,
But in the loſſe of queſtion) that you, his Sifter,
Finding your ſelf deſir'd of ſuch a perfon,
Whofe credit with the Judge, or own great place,
Could fetch your brother from the Mannacles
Of the all-building Law: and that there were
No earthly mean to ſave him, but that either
You muſt lay down the treaſures of your body,
To this ſupſofed, or eſſe to let him ſuffer:
What would you do?

Iſab. As much for my poor Brother, as my ſelf;
That is: were I under the tearmes of death,
Th'impreſſion of keen whips, I'd wear as Rubies,
And ſlip my ſelf to death, as to a bed.
That longing have been ſick for, ere I'd yeeld
My body up to ſhame.

Ang. Then

70

Measure for Measure.

Ang. Then muſt your brother dye.
Iſa. And 'cwer the cheaper way :
Better it were a brother di'd at once,
Then that a filter by redeeming him
Should dye for ever.

Ang. Were not you then as cruell as the Sentence,
That you have flander'd fo ?

Iſa. Ignominy in ranfome, and free pardon
Are of two houſes: lawfull mercy,
Is nothing kin to foul redemption.

Ang. You feem'd of late to make the Law a tyrant,
And rather prov'd the fliding of your brother
A merriment, than a vice.

Iſa. Oh pardon me my Lord, it oft faſs out
To have, what we would have,
We ſpeak not what we mean ;

I ſomething do excufe the thing I hate,
For his advantage that I dearly love.

Ang. We are all fraile.
Iſa. Elſe let my brother dye,
If not a ſeodary but only he
Owe, and ſucced thy weakneſſe.

Ang. Nay, women are fraile too.

Iſa. I, as the glaſſes where they view themſelves,
Which are as eſſe broke as they make formes :
Women? Help heaven ; men their creation marre
In profiting by them: Nay, call us ten times fraile,
For we are ſoft, as our complexions are,
And credulous to ſalſe prints.

Ang. I think it well:
And from this teſtimony of your own ſex
(Since I ſuppofe we are made to be no ſtronger
Then faults may ſhake our frames) let me be bold ;

I do arreſt your words ; Be that you are,

That is, a woman ; if you be more, you'r none.
If you be one ( as you are well expreſſ

By all extenſiſt warrants) ſhew it now,
By putting on the deſtin'd Livery.

Iſa. I have no ſonge but one; gentle my Lord,
Let me entreat you ſpeak the former language.

Ang. Plainly conceive I love you.
Iſa. My brother did love Julier.

And you tell me that he ſhall dye for't.

Ang. He ſhall not Ifabell if you give me love.

Iſa. I know your verue hath a licence in't,
Which ſeems a little ſouler than it is,

To pluck on others.

Ang. Believe me on mine Honor,
My words expreſſe my purpofe.

Iſa. Ha ? Little honor, to be much believ'd,
And moſt pernicious purpofe: Seeming, ſeeming,
I will proclaime thee Angelo, look for't.

Signe me a preſent pardon for my brother,
Or with an out-fretent throate Ile tell the world aloud
What man thou art.

Ang. Who will believe thee Ifabell ?
My unfold name, th'autereneſſe of my life,
My vouch againſt you, and my place i'th State,
Will ſo your accuſation over-weigh,
That you ſhall ſtifle in your own report,
And ſmell of cicalum. I have begun,
And now I give my ſenſuall race, the reine,
Fit thy content to my ſharp appetite,
Lay by all nicety, and prolious bluſhes
That banifh what they ſue for: Redeem thy brother,
By yeelding up thy body to my will,

Or eſſe he muſt not only dye the death,
But thy unkindneſſe ſhall his death draw out
To lingring ſufferance: Anſwer me to morrow,
Or by the affection that now guides me moſt,
Ile prove a Tyrant to him. As for you,
Say what you can, my ſalſe, ore-weighs your true: Exit.

Iſa. To whom ſhould I complain ? Did I tell this,
Who would believe me ? O perilous mouths
That bear in them, one and the ſelf-fame tongue,
Either of condemnation, or approſe,
Bidding the Law make curſie to their will,
Hooking both right and wrong to th' appetite,
To follow as it draws. Ile to my brother,
Though he hath ſalſe by prompture of the blood,
Yet hath he in him ſuch a mind of Honor,
That had he twenty heads to tender down
On twenty bloody blocks, hee'd yeeld them up,
Before his filter ſhould her body ſloop
To ſuch abhord pollution.

Then Ifabell live chafe, and brother dye ;
" More than our Brother, is our Chaſtine.

Ile tell him yet of Angelo's requeſt,
And fit his mind to death, for his ſouſs reſt.

Exit.

Actus Tertius, Scena Prima.

Enter Duke, Claudio, and Provoſt.

Duke. So then you hope of pardon from lord Angelo ?

Clau. The miferable have no other medicine

But only hope: I'have hope to live, and am prepar'd to dye.

Duke. Be abſolute for death: either death or life
Shall thereby be the sweeter. Reaſon thus with life:
If I do looke thee, I do looke a thing
That none but fools would keep : a breath thou art,
Servile to all the skyie-influences,

That doſt this habitation where thou keepſt
Hourely afflіct: Meereſly, thou art deaths ſool,
For him thou labourſt by thy flight to ſun,
And yet runſt toward him ſill. Thou art not noble,

For all th'accommodations that thou bearſt,
Are nurſt by bafeſneſſe: Thou'rt by no means valiant,

For thou doſt feare the ſoft and tender fork

Of a poor worm: thy beſt of reſt is ſleep,
And that thou oft provoakſt, yet groſſely fearſt
Thy death, which is no more. Thou art not thy ſelf,
For thou exiſts on many a thouſand graines

That ilſue out of duſt. Happy thou art nor,
For what thou haſt not, ſtill thou ſtrivſt to get,

And what thou haſt, ſorgetſt. Thou art not certain,
For thy complexion shifts to ſtrange effects,

After the Moone : if thou art rich, thou'rt poor,

For like an Aſſe, whoſe back with Ingots bowes ;

Thou bearſt thy heavy riches but a journey,
And death unloads thee; Friend haſt thou none.

For thine own bowels which do call thee, fire
The meere effusion of thy proper loynes,

Do curſe the Gout, Sarpego, and the Rheume
For ending thee no ſooner. Thou haſt nor youth, nor age

But as it were an after-dinners ſleep

Dreaming on both, for all thy bleſſed youth
Becomes as aged, and doth beg the almes

Of palſed-Eld : and when thou art old, and rich

Thou

Measure for Measure.

71

Thou haſt neither hear, affection, limb, nor beauty
To make his riches pleafant: what's yet in this
That bears the name of life? Yet in this life
Lye hid moe thouſand deaths; yet death we feare
That makes theſe oddes, all even.

Clau. I humbly thank you.

To fue to live, I find I ſeek to dye,
And feeking death, find life: Let it come on.

Enter Ifabella.

Ifab. What hoa ? Peace here; Grace, and good company.

Pro. Who's there ? Come in, the which deferves a welcome.

Duk. Dear fir, ere long Ile viſit you again.

Cla. Moſt holy fir, I thank you.

Ifa. My buſineſſe is a word or two with Claudio.

Pro. And very welcome : look Signior, here's your
ſifter.

Duk. Provoſt, a word with you.

Pro. As many as you please.

Duk. Bring them to ſpeak, where I may be conceal'd,
yet hear them.

Cla. Now ſifter, what's the comfort ?

Ifa. Why,

As all comforts are: moſt good, moſt good indeed,
Lord Angelo having affairs to heaven
Intends you for his ſwift Ambaſſador,
Where you ſhall be an everlaſting Leiger ;
Therefore your beſt appointment make with ſpeed,
To Morrow you ſet on.

Cla. Is there no remedy ?

Ifa. None but ſuch remedy, as to ſave a head

To cleave a heart in twaine :

Cla. But is there any ?

Ifa. Yes brother, you may live ;

There is a devilſt mercy in the Judge,
If you't implore it, that will free your life,
But fetter you till death.

Cla. Perpetuall durance ?

Ifa. I juſt, perpetuall durance, a reſtraint
Through all the worlds vaſtidity you had
To a determin'd ſcope.

Cla. But in what nature ?

Ifab. In ſuch a one, as you confenting too't,
Would bark your honor from that trunk you bear,
And leave you naked.

Cla. Let me know the point.

Ifa. Oh, I do ſeare thee Claudio, and I quake,
Leaſt thou a feaſorous life ſhouldt entertain,
And fix or ſeven winters more reſpect
Than a perpetuall honor. Dar't thou dye ?
The fence of death is moſt in apprehenſion,
And the poor Beetle that we tread upon
In corporall ſufferance, finds a pang as great,
As when a Giant dyes.

Cla. Why give you me this ſhame ?
Think you I can a reſolution fetch
From flowry tenderneſſe ? If I muſt dye,
I will encounter darkneſſe as a bride,
And hugge it in mine armes.

Ifa. There ſpake my brother : there my fathers grave
Did utter forth a voyce. Yes, thou muſt dye :
Thou art too noble, to conferve a life
In bafe appliances. This outward ſainted Deputy,
Whofe fetled ſivage, and deliberate word
Nips youth i'th head, and follies doth emmew

As Falcon doth the fowle: is yet a devil :
His filth within being cauſe, he would appear
A pond as deep as hell.

Cla. The Princely, Angelo ?

Ifa. Oh 'tis the cunning Livery of hell,
The damned body to inveſt, and cover
In Princely gardes; doſt thou think Claudio,
If I would yeeld him my virginity

Thou might't be freed ?

Cla. Oh heavens, it cannot be.

Ifa. Yes, he would giv't thee; from this ranke offence
So to offend him full. This night's the time
That I ſhould do what I abhorre to name,
Or elfe thou dieſt to morrow,

Cla. Thou ſhalt not do't.

Ifa. O, were it but my life,

I'le throw it down for your deliverance

As frankly as a pin.

Cla. Thanks dear Ifabell.

Ifa. Be ready Claudio, for your death to morrow.

Cla. Yes. Has he affections in him.

That thus can make him bite the Law by th'noſe,
When he would force it ? ſure it is no finne,
Or of the deadly ſeven it is the leaſt,

Ifa. Which is the leaſt ?

Cla. If it were damnable, he being ſo wife,
Why would he for the momentany trick
Be perdurably fin'd ? Oh Ifabell.

Ifa. What fayes my brother ?

Cla. Death is a ſeafull thing.

Cla. And ſhamed life, a hatefull.

Cla. I, but to dye, and go we know not where.
To lye in cold obſtruction, and to rot,

This ſenſible warme motion, to become

A kneaded clod ; and the delighted ſpirit

To bathe in ſiery floods, or to refide

In thrilling region of thick-ribbed Ice,

To be imprifon'd in the viewleſſe windes

And blown with reſtleſſe violence round about

The pendant world : or to be worſe than worſt

Of thate, that lawleſſe and incertain thought,

Imagine howling, 'tis too horrible.

The wearieſt, and moſt loathed worldlie life

That Age, Ache, penury, and imprisonment

Can lay on nature, is a Paradife

To what we feare of death.

Ifa. Alas, alas.

Cla. Sweet Sifter, let me live.

What finne you do, to ſave a brothers life,

Nature diſpenſes with the deed ſo farre,

That it becomes a vertue.

Ifa. Oh you beaſt !

Oh faithleſſe Coward ! oh diſhoneſt wretch,
Wilt thou be made a man, out of my vice ?

Is't not a kind of inſeſt, to take life

From thine own ſifters ſhame ? What ſhould I think,

Heaven ſhield: my Mother plaid my Father faire :

For ſuch a warped ſip of wilderneſſe

Nere iſlu'd from his blood. Take my defiance,

Dye, perſiſh: Might but my bending down

Reprieve thee from thy fate, it ſhould proceed.

Ile pray a thouſand prayers for thy death ;

No word to ſave thee.

Cla. Nay hear me Ifabell.

Ifa. Oh, ſie, ſie, ſie,

Thy finn's not accidentall, but a Trade ;

Mercy

uie: Exi-
ell this,
gue,

d,

p,

Exi-


Prima.

Angelo ?

Prepar'd to

or life

life,

art,

ble,

able,

liant,

self,

in,

in,

able,

liant,

nage

Thou

72

Measure for Measure.

Mercy to thee would prove it self a Bawd,
'Tis beft that thou diest quickly.

Cla. Oh hear me Ifabella.

Duke steps in.

Duk. Vouchfate a word, yong fitter, but one word,
I/a. What is your Will?

Duk. Might you diffpenfe with your leifure, I would
by and by have fome ſpeech with you : the ſatisfaction I
would require, is likewife your own benefit.

I/a. I have no ſuperfluous leifure, my ſtay muſt be
ſtolen out of other affaires: but I will attend you a while.

Duk. Son, I have over-heard what hath pafft between
you and your fitter. Angelo had never the purpose to cor-
rupt her; only he hath made an affay of her vertue, to
practife his judgement with the diſpoſition of natures.
She (having the truth of honor in her) hath made him
that gracious denial, which he is moſt glad to receive : I
am Confeſſor to Angelo, and I know this to be true, there-
fore prepare your ſelf to death: do not ſatſeſe your re-
ſolution with hopes that are fallible, to morrow you muſt
dye, go to your knees, and make ready.

Cla. Let me ask my fitter pardon, I am ſo out of love
with life, that I will ſue to be rid of it.

Exit.

Duk. Hold you there: farewell: Provoſt, a word with
you.

Pro. What's your will (father ?)

Duk. That now you are come, you will be gone: leave
me a while with the Maid, my mind promiles with my
habit, no loffe ſhall touch her by my company.

Pro. In good time.

Exit.

Duk. The hand that hath made you faire, hath made
you good: the goodneſſe that is cheap in beauty, makes
beauty brief in goodneſſe; but grace being the foul of
your complexion, ſhall keep the body of it ever faire:
the affault that Angelo hath made to you, Fortune hath
conver'd to my understanding; and but that frailty hath
examples for his falling, I should wonder at Angelo: how
will you do to content this Subſtitute, and to have your
brother?

Iſab. I am now going to refolve him: I had rather my
brother dye by the Law, than my ſonne should be un-
lawfully born. But (oh) how much is the good Duke
deceiv'd in Angelo: if ever he return, and I can ſpeak
to him, I will open my lips in vaine, or diſcover his go-
vernment.

Duk. That ſhall not be much amife: yet as the mat-
ter now ſtands, he will avoyd your accuſation: he made
triaill of you only. Therefore faſten your eare on my ad-
viſings, to the love I have in doing good; a remedy pre-
fents it ſelf. I do make my ſelf beleeve that you may
moſt uprighteouſly do'ta poor wronged Lady a merited
benefit: redeem your brother from the angry Law; do
no ſtaine to your own gracious perſon, and much pleafe
the abſent Duke, if peradventure he ſhall ever returne to
have hearing of this buſineſſe.

Iſab. Let me hear you ſpeak farther; I have ſpirit to
do any thing that appears not foule in the truth of my
ſpirit.

Duke. Vertue is bold, and goodneſſe never fearfull:
Have you not heard ſpeak of Mariana the fitter of Fre-
deriche the great Souiloier, who milcarried at Sea?

Iſab. I have heard of the Lady, and good words went
with her name?

Duke. She ſhould this Angelo have married; was affi-
anced to her by oath, and the nuptial appointed: between
which time of the contract, and limit of the Solemnity,
her brother Frederiche was wrackt at Sea, having in that

perithied veſſell, the dowry of his fitter; but mark how
heavily this beſell to the poor Gentlewoman, there the
loft a noble and renowned brother, in his love toward
her, ever moſt kind and naturall: with him the portion
and finew of her fortune, her marriage dowry: with
both, her combynate-husband, this well ſeeming An-
gelo.

Iſab. Can this be ſo? did Angelo ſo leave her ?

Duk. Left her in her teares, and dried not one of them
with his comfort: ſwallowed his vows whole; pretending
in her, diſcoveries of diſhonor: in few words, heſtow'd her
on her own lamentation, which the yet wears for his ſake:
and he, a marble to her eares, is wathed with them but
relents nor.

Iſab. What a merit were it in death to take this poor
maid from the world ? what corruption in this life, that
it will let this man live? But how out of this can the a-
vaile?

Duk. It is a rupture that you may easily heal: and the
cure of it not only faves your brother, but keeps you
from diſhonor in doing it.

Iſab. Shew me how (good father.)

Duk. This forenamed Maid hath yet in her the con-
tinuance of her first affection: his unjust unkindneſſe
(that in all reaſon should have quenched her love) hath
(like an impediment in the Current) made it more vio-
lent and unruly: Go you to Angelo, anſwer his requi-
ring with a plaſuable obedience, agree with his demands
to the point: only referre your ſelfe to this advantage;
first, that your ſtay with him not be long: that the
time may have all ſhadow, and ſilence in it: and the place
anſwer to convenience: this being granted in course,
and now follows all: we ſhall adviſe this wronged Maid
to ſeed up your appointment, go in your place: if the
encounter acknowledge it ſelfe hereafter, it may com-
pell him to her recompence; and here, by this is your
brother ſaved, your honor untainted, the poor Marisa-
na advantaged, and the corrupt Deputy ſcaled. The Maid
will I frame, and make fit for his attempt: if you think
well to carry this as you may, the doubleneſſe of the be-
neſt defends the deceit from reproofe. What think you
of it?

Iſab. The image of it gives me content already, and I
trauſt it will grow to a moſt ſproſerous perſection.

Duk. It lyes much in your holding up: haſte you ſpe-
dily to Angelo, if for this night he intreat you to his bed,
give him promife of ſatisfaction: I will prefently to St.
Lukes, there at the moated-Grange reſides this deſected
Mariana; at that place call upon me, and diſpatch with
Angelo, that it may be quickly.

I/a. I thank you for this comfort: fare you well good
father.

Exit.

Enter Elbow, Clowne, Officers.

El. Nay, if there be no remedy for it, but that you
will needs buy and ſell men and women like beaſts, we
ſhall have all the world drink brown and white baſtard.

Duk. Oh heavens, what ſtuffe is here ?

Clowne. 'Twas never merry world ſince of two uſuries
the merriéſt was put downe, and the worſer allow'd by
order of Law; a ſur'd gowne to keep him warme; and
fur'd with Fox and Lamb-skins too, to ſignifie, that craft
being richer than innocency, ſtands for the facing.

Elbow. Come your way Sir; bleſſe you good father
Frier.

Duk. And you good brother father: what offence hath
this man made you, Sir?

Elb. Marry

Measure for Measure.

73

Elb. Marry fir, he hath offended the Law; and Sir,
we take him to be a Theefe too fir : for we have found
upon him Sir, a strange Pick-lock, which we have sent to
the Deputy.

Duk. Eye, firrah, a Bawd, a wicked bawd,
The evil that thou cauſed to be done,
That is thy means to live. Do thou but think
What 'tis to cram a maw, or cloath a back.

From such a filthy vice : fay to thy ſelf,
From their abominable and beaſtly touches
I drink, I eat away my ſelf, and live :
Can't thou believe thy living is a life,
So flinkingly depending ? Go mend, go mend.

Clo. Indeed, it do's tink in ſome ſort, Sir :
But yet Sir I would prove—

Duk. Nay, if the devil have given thee proofes for fin
Thou wilt prove his. Take him to prifon Officer ;
Correſſion, and intruſſion muſt both work
Ere this rude beaſt will profit.

Elb. He muſt before the Deputy Sir, he ha's given
him warning : the Deputy cannot abide a Whore-ma-
fer : if he be a Whore-monger, and comes before him,
he were as good goe a mile on his errand.

Duk. That we were all, as ſome would seem to be
Free from our faults, as faults from feeming free.

Emer Lucio.

Elb. His neck will come to your waſt, a Cord fir.

Clo. I ſpy comfort, I cry baile: Here's a Gentleman,
and a friend of mine.

Luc. How now noble Pompey ? What, at the wheels
of Caſar ? Art thou led in triumph ? What is there none
of Pigmalions Images newly made woman to be had now,
for putting the hand in the pocket, and extraſturing clutch'd?
What reply ? Ha ? What faſt thou to this Tune, Mat-
ter, and Method ? Is't not droun'd i'th laſt raine ? Ha ?
What faſt thou Trot ? Is the world as it was ? Man?
Which is the way ? Is it ſad, and ſew words ? Or how ?
The trick of it ?

Duk. Still thus, and this: ſill worſe ?

Luc. How doth my dear Morſell ? thy Miſtris ? Pro-
cures the ſill ? Ha ?

Clo. Troch fir, ſhe hath eaten up all her Beeſe, and ſhe
is her ſelf in the tub.

Luc. Why 'tis good: It is the right of it: it muſt be
ſo. Ever your fresh Whore, and your pouderd Baud, an
unflun'd ſeſequence, it muſt be ſo. Art going to pri-
ſon Pompey ?

Clo. Yes faith fir.

Luc. Why 'tis not amiffle Pompey : farewell: go ſay
I ſent thee thither : for debt Pompey ? Or how ?

Elb. For being a baud, for being a baud.

Luc. Well, then imprifon him : If imprifonment be
the due of a baud, why 'tis his right. Baud is he doubt-
leſſe, and of antiquity too: Baud born. Far well good
Pompey : Commend me to the prifon Pompey, you will
turn good husband now Pompey, you will keep the
houſe.

Clo. I hope Sir, your good Worſhip will be my baile ?

Luc. No indeed will I not Pompey, it is not the wear :
I will pray ( Pompey ) to encreſſe your bondage if you take
it not patiently : Why, your mettle is the more : Adieu
truſky Pompey.

Bleſſe you Friar.

Duk. And you.

Luc. Do's Bridget paint ſill, Pompey ? Ha?

Elb. Come your wayes fir, come.

Clo. You will not baile me then Sir ?

Luc. Then Pompey, nor now: what news abroad Fri-
er ? What news?

Luc. Go to kennell ( Pompey ) go:
What news Fryer of the Duke?

Duke. I know none: can you tell me of any ?

Luc. Some ſay he is with the Emperor of Ruffia
other ſome, he is in Rome : but where is he think you ?

Duke. I know not where : but whereſoever, I wifh
him well.

Luc. It was a mad fantascall trick of him to feal
from the State, and uſurp the beggery he was never
born to: Lord Angelo Dukes it well in his abſence: he
puts transgreſſion too't.

Duke. He do's well in't.

Luc. A little more lenitie to Lechery would do no
harm in him: Something too crabbed that way, Fryer.

Duke. It is too general a vice, and ſeverity muſt cure it.

Luc. Yes in good foot, the vice is of a great kindred;
it is well allied, but it is impoffible to exuir it quite,
Friar, till eating and drinking be put down. They ſay
this Angelo was not made by Man and Woman, after
this down-right way of Creation : is it true, think
you ?

Duk. How should he be made then ?

Luc. Some report, a Sea-mid ſpawn'd him. Some,
that he was begot between two Stock-fithes. But it is
certain, that when he makes water, his Urine is con-
geal'd ice, that I know to be true; and he is a motion
generative, that's inſallible.

Duk. You are pleafant fir, and ſpeak apace.

Luc. Why, what a rurſhleſſe thing is this in him, for
the rebellion of a Cod-piece, to take away the life of a
man ? Would the Duke that is abſent have done this?
Ere he would have hang'd a man for the getting a hun-
dred Baſtards, he would have paid for the Nurfing a
thouſand. He had ſone feeling of the ſport, he knew
the ſervice, and that inſtructed him to mercy.

Duk. I never heard the abſent Duke much detected
for Women, he was not enclin'd that way.

Luc. Oh, Sir, you are deceiv'd.

Duk. 'Tis not poffible.

Luc. Who, not the Duke ? Yes, your beggar of fifty:
and his ſue was, to put a ducket in her Click-dish ; the
Duke had Crochets in him. He would be drunk too,
that let me inform you.

Duk. You do him wrong, ſurely.

Luc. Sir, I was an inward of his : a ſhye ſellow was
the Duke, and I believe I know the caufe of his with-
drawing.

Duk. What (I prethee) might be the caufe ?

Luc. No, pardon : 'Tis a ſecrer muſt be lockt with-
in the teeth and the lips: but this I can let you under-
land, the greater file of the ſubject held the Duke to be
wife.

Duk. Wife ? Why no queſtion but he was.

Luc. A very ſuperficial, ignorant, unweighing ſellow.

Duk. Either this is envy in you, folly, or mitſaking:
The very ſtream of his life, and the buſineſſe he hath
helmed, muſt upon a warranted need, give him a better
proclamation. Let him be but cettimonied in his own
bringings forth, and he ſhall appear to the envious, a
Scholler, a Stateſman, and a ſouldier: therefore you ſpeak
unſkilfully: or, if your knowledge be more, it is much
darkned in your malice.

G

Lmc.

Measure for Measure.

74

Luc. Sir, I know him, and I love him.

Duk. Love talks with better knowledge, and knowledge with dear love.

Luc. Come Sir, I know what I know.

Duk. I can hardly believe that, since you know not what you speak. But if ever the Duke returne (as our prayers are he may) let me desire you to make your answer before him : if it be honest you have spoke, you have courage to maintain it ; I am bound to call upon you, and I pray you your name?

Luc. Sir my name is Lucio, well known to the Duke.

Duk. He shall know you better Sir, if I may live to report you.

Luc. I feare you not.

Duk. O, you hope the Duke will returne no more: or you imagine me too unhurtfull an opposite: but indeed I can do you little harme: You'll for-swear this again?

Luc. Ile be hang'd first: Thou art deceiv'd in me Friar. But no more of this. Canst thou tell if Claudio dye to morrow, or no?

Duk. Why should he dye Sir?

Luc. Why ? For filling a bottle with a Tun-diff: I would the Duke we talke of were return'd again: this ungenitur'd Agent will un-people the Province with Continency. Sparrows must not build in his houſe-eeves, because they are lecherous : The Duke. yet would have dark deeds darkly anſwered, he would never bring them to light : would he were return'd. Marry this Claudio is condemned for untrusting. Farewell good Friar, I prethee pray for me: The Duke (I fay to thee againe) would eat Mutton on Fridayes. He's now paſt it, yet (and I fay to thee) he would mouth with a beggar, though he ſmelt brown-bread and Garlick: ſay that I faid so: Farewell.

Exit.

Duke. No might, nor greatneſſe in mortality Can configure ſcabe : Back-wounding calumny The whiteſt vertue strikés, What King ſo strong, Can tye the gall up in the ſlanderous tongue? But who comes here?

Emer Escales, Provoſt, and Baud.

Eſc. Go, away with her to prifon.

Baud. Good my Lord be good to me, your Honor is accounted a mercifull man: good my Lord.

Eſc. Double, and trebble admonition, and ſtill forfeit in the ſame kind ? This would make mercy ſwear and play the Tyrant.

Pro. A Baud of eleven years continuance, may it please your Honor.

Baud. My Lord, this is one Lucio's information against me, Miftris Kate Keep-downe was with child by him in the Dukes time, he promis'd her marriage : his Child is a year and a quarter old come Philip and Jacob: I have kept it my self; and fee how he goes about to abufe me.

Eſca. That fellow is a fellow of much Liceſe: Let him be call'd before us. Away with her to prifon: Go to, no more words. Provoſt, my Brother Angelo will not be alter'd, Claudio muſt dye to morrow: Let him be furniſh'd with Divines, and have all charitable preparation. If my brother wrought by my pitty, it should not be ſo with him.

Pro. So please you, this Friar hath been with him, and adviſ'd him for th'entertainment of death.

Eſca. Good even, good father.

Duk. Blifſe, and goodneſſe on you.

Eſca. Of whence are you?

Duke. Not of this Country, though my chance is now To uſe it for my time: I am a brother Of gracious Order, late come from the Sea, In ſpeciall buſineſſe from his Holinesſe.

Eſca. What newes abroad i'th World?

Duk. None, but that there is ſo great a Feavor on goodneſſe, that the diſolution of it muſt cure it. Novelty is only in requeſt, and it is as dangerous to be aged in any kind of courſe, as it is vertuous to be contſant in any undertaking. There is ſcarce truth enough alive to make Societies ſecure, but Security enough to make Fel lowſhips accuſt. Much upon this riddle runs the wifdome of the world: This newes is old enough, yet it is every dayes newes. I pray you Sir, of what diſpoſition was the Duke?

Eſca. One, that above all other trſifes, Contended especially to know himſelf.

Duk. What pleafure was he given to?

Eſca. Rather rejoycing to fee another merry, than merry at any thing which proſeſt to make him rejoice. A Gentleman of all temperance. But leave him to his events, with a prayer they may prove properous; and let me desire to know, how you find Claudio prepaſt? I am made to underſand, that you have lent him viſitaſtion.

Duk. He proſeſſes to have received no ſinifter meaſure from his Judge, but moſt willingly humbles himſelf to the determination of Juſtice: yet had he framed to him, ſelf (by the intruction of his fraſky) many deceiving promifes of life, which I (by my good leſure) have diſcredited to him, and now is he reſolv'd to dye.

Eſca. You have paid the heavens your Function, and the prifoner the very debt of your Calling. I have labour'd for the poor Gentleman, to the extremest ſhore of my modeſty, but my Brother-Justice have I found ſo ſevere, that he hath forſc'd me to tell him, he is indeed Justice.

Duk. If his own life,

Anſwer the fraſtneſſe of his proceeding,

It shall become him well : wherein if he chance to ſaile, he hath ſentenc'd himſelf.

Eſ. I am going to viſit the prifoner, Fare you well, Exit.

Duk. Peace be with you.

He who the ſword of Heaven will beare,

Should be as holy, as ſevere:

Pattern in himſelf to know,

Grace to ſtand, and Vertue go:

More, nor leſſe to others paying,

Then by ſelf-offences weighing.

Same to him, whoſe cruell strikings,

Kils for faults of his own liking :

Twice trebble ſhame on Angelo,

To weed my vice, and let his grow.

Oh, what may Man within him hide,

Though Angell on the outward ſide?

How may likeneſſe made in crimes,

Making præſtife on the Times,

To draw with idle Spiders strings

Moſt ponderous and ſubſtantiall things?

Craft against vice, I muſt apply.

With Angelo to night ſhall lye

His old betroathed ( but deſpited :)

So diſguife ſhall by th'diſguifed

Pay with falſhood, falſe exacting,

And performe an old contraſting.

Exit.
Actus

Measure for Measure.

75

Actus Quartus, Scena Prima.

Enter Mariana, and Boy singing.

Song. Take, oh take those lips away,
that so sweetly were forsworn,
And those eyes: the break of day
lights that do mislead the Sun;
But my kisses bring again, bring again,
Seals of love, but feal'd in vain, feal'd in vain.

Enter Duke.

Marian. Break off thy fong, and haſte thee quick away,
Here comes a man of comfort, whose advife
Math often fill'd my brawling discontent.
I cry you mercy, Sir, and well could wifh
You had not found me here so muſicall.
Let me excufe me, and believe me so,
My mirth it much diſpleaf'd, but pleaf'd my wo.

Duk. 'Tis good : though Mufick oft hath ſuch a charm
To make bad, good; and good provoke to harm.
I pray you tell me, hath any body enquir'd for me here
to day ? much upon this time have I promiſ'd here to
meer.

Marian. You have not been enquir'd after : I have fa't
here all day.

Enter Isabell.

Duk. I do contantly believe you : the time is come
even now. I ſhall crave your forbearance a little, may be
I will call upon you anon for some advantage to your
ſelf.

Marian. I am always bound to you.

Exit.

Duk. Very well, me, and well come :

What is the newes from this good Deputy ?

Isa. He hath a Garden circummm'd with Brick,
Whofe western ſide is with a Vineyard back't;
And to that Vineyard is a planched gate,
That makes his opening with this bigger Key:
This other doth command a little door,
Which from the Vineyard to the Garden leads,
There have I made my promife, upon the
Heavy middle of the night, to call upon him.

Duk. But ſhall you on your knowledge find this way?

Isa. I have tane a due and wary note upon't,
With whispering, and moſt guilty diligence,
In action all of precept, he did howw me
The way twice ore.

Duke. Are there no other tokens

Between you'reed, concerning her obſervance?

Isa. No: none but only a repair i'th' dark,
And that I have poffeſt him, my moſt flay
Can be but brief : for I have made him know,
I have a Servant comes with me along,
That ſtays upon me, whose perſwafion is,
I come about my brother,

Duk. 'Tis well born up.

I have not yet made known to Mariana.

Enter Mariana.

A word of this: what hoa, within; come forth,
I pray you be acquainted with this Maid,
She comes to do you good.

Isa. I do defire the like.

Duk. Do you perſwade your ſelf that I reſpect you ?

Marian. Good Fryer, I know you do, and have found i.

Duk. Take then this your companion by the hand,
Who hath a ſtory ready for your eare:

I ſhall attend your leifery, but make haſte

The vaporous night approaches.

Marian. Wilt please you walk aſide ?

Exit.

Duk. Oh Place, and greatneſs: millions of falſe eyes
Are fluck upon thee: volumes of report

Run with theſe falſe, and moſt contrarious Queſts

Upon thy doings : thouand ſcapes of witt

Make thee the father of their idle dream,

And rack thee in their fancies. Welcome, how agreed ?

Enter Mariana, and Isabell.

Isa. She'll take the enterprize upon her, father,
If you advife it.

Duk. It is not my conſent,
But my entreaty too.

Isa. Little have you to ſay

When you depart from him, but ſoft and low,
Remember now my brother,

Mar. Feare me nor.

Duk. Nor gentle daughter, ſeare you not at all :
He is your husband on a pre-contradict :

To bring you thus together 'tis no ſinne,

Sith that the Juitſce of your title to him

Doth flourifh the deceit. Come, let us go,

Our Corn's to reap, for yet our Tithes to ſow. Exenunt.

Scena Secunda.

Enter Provoſſ, and Clonu.

Pro. Come hither firſt; can you cut off a man's head ?

Clo. If the man be a Bachelor Sir, I can :

But if he be a married man, he's his wives head,

And I can never cut off a womans head.

Pro. Come fir, leave me your ſnatches, and yeeld me
a direct anſwer. To morrow morning are to dye Clau-
dio, and Barnardine: here is in our prifon a common exe-
cutioner, who in his office lacks a helper, if you will take
it on you to aſſilt him, it ſhall redeem you from your
Gyves: if not, you ſhall have your full time of imprifon-
ment, and your deliverance with an unpittied whipping;
for you have been a notorious baud.

Clo. Sir, I have been an unlawfull baud, time out of
mind, but yet I will be content to be a lawfull hangman :
I would be glad to receive ſome Inſtruction from my fel-
low partner.

Pro. What hoa, Abhorſon: where's Abhorſon there?

Enter Abhorſon.

Abho. Do you call fir ?

Pro. Sirrha, here's a fellow will help you to morrow
in your execution: if you think it meet, compound with
him by the year, and let him abide here with you, if not,
ufe him for the prefent, and diſmiffe him, he cannot
plead his eſtimation with you : he hath been a Baud.

Abho. A Baud Sir ? ſie upon him, he will diſ credit our
myſteriy.

Pro. Go too Sir, you waigh equally; a feather will
turn the Scale. Exit.

Clo. Pray fir, by your good favour : for ſurely fir, a
good favour you have, but that you hve a hanging look :
Do you call fir, your occupation a Myſteriy ?

G 3

Abho. I

Measure for Measure.

81

Of a strange Feaver: upon his meer request
Being come to knowledge, that there was complaint
Intended against Lord Angelo, came I hither
To speak as from his mouth, what he doth know
Is true and false: and what he with his oath:
And all probation will make up full cleare
Whenfoever he is convened: First, for this woman,
To justify this worthy Nobleman,
So vulgarly and personally accus'd:
Her shall you hear disproved to her eyes,
Till she the selfe confesse it.

Duke. Good Fryer let's hear it:

Do you not smile at this, Lord Angelo?
Oh heaven, the vanity of wretched fools.
Give us some feats, Come Cofen Angelo,
In this Ile be impartial: be you Judge
Of your own Caufe: Is this the Witneſſe Fryer?

Enter Mariana.

First, let her ſhew her face, and after ſpeak.

Mar. Pardon my Lord, I will not ſhew my face
Untill my husband bid me.

Duke. What, are you married?

Mar. No, my Lord.

Duke: Are you a Maid ?

Mar. No, my Lord.

Duke. A Widdow then ?

Mar. Neither my Lord.

Duke. Why are you nothing then: neither Maid, Widdow, nor Wife ?

Duke. My Lord, the may be a Punk : for many of
them, are neither Maid, Widdow, nor Wife.

Duke. Silence that fellow: I would he had some caufe
to prattle for himself.

Luc. Well my Lord.

Mar. My Lord, I do confesse I were married,
And I confesse besides, I am ne Maid,
I have known my husband, yet my husband
Knowes not that ever he knew me.

Luc. He was drunk then, my Lord, it can be no better.

Duk. For the benefit of filence, would thou wert so too.

Luc. Well my Lord.

Du. This is no Witneſſe for Lord Angelo.

Mar. Now I come to't, my Lord.

She that accufes him of Fornication,
In self-fame manner doth accufe my husband,
And charges him, my Lord, with such a time,
When Ile depofe I had him in mine Armes
With all th' effect of Love.

Ang. Charges she moe than me?

Mar. Not that I know.

Du. No? you fay your husband.

Mar. Why juſt my Lord, and that is Angelo,
Who thinks he knows, that he neere knew my body,
But knows, he thinks, that he knows Ifabels.

Ang. This is a ſtrange abufe: Let's fee thy face.

Mar. My husband bids me, now I will unmask
This is that face, thou cruell Angelo
Which once thou ſworſt, was worth the looking on:

This is the hand, which with a vow'd contract
Was ſaft belockt in thine: This is the body
That took away the match from Ifabell,

And did supply thee at thy Garden-houfe
In her Imagin'd perſon.

Du. Know you this woman ?

Luc. Carnally ſhe fays.

Du. Sintha, no more.

Luc. Enough my Lord.

Ang. My Lord, I muſt confesse, I know this woman,
And five years ſince there was ſome ſpeech of marriage
Betwixt my ſelf and her: which was broke off,
Partly for that her promis'd proportions

Came ſhort of Compoſition: but in chief
For that her reputation was diſ-valued

In levity: Since which time of five years

I never ſpake with her, ſaw her, nor heard from her
Upon my faith and honour.

Mar. Noble Prince,

As there comes light from heaven, and words from breath,
As there is ſense in truth, and truth in verue,

I am affianced this mans wife, as strongly

As words could make up Vowes: And my good Lord,
But Tuesday night laſt gone, in's Garden-houſe

He knew me as a wife. As this is true,

Let me in safety raiſe me from my knees,

Or eſſe for ever be confixed here
A Marble Monument.

Ang. I did but ſmile till now.

Now, good my Lord, give me the ſcope of Juitſice,

My patience here is touch'd: I do perceive

Theſe poor informall women, are no more

But instruments of ſome more mightier member

That fet them on. Let me have way, my Lord,
To finde this practice out.

Duke. I, with my heart,

And puniſh them to your height of pleaſure.

Thou ſoſilth Fryer, and thou pernicious woman

Compaſt with her that's gone: think't thou thy oaths,

Though they would ſwear down each particular Saint,

Were ſeſtimonies 'gainſt his worth, and credit

'Tis ſeal'd in approbation ? you, Lord Eſcalus,

Sit with my Cofen, lend him your kinde pains

To finde out this abufe, whence 'tis deriv'd.

There is another Fryer that fet them on,

Let him be ſent for.

Peter. Would he were here, my Lord, for he indeed

Hath fet the women on to this complaint ;

Your Provoſt knows the place where he abides,

And he may fetch him.

Duke. Go, do it intantly :

And you my Noble and well-warranted Cofen

Whom it concerns to hear this matter forth,

Do with your injuries as ſeems you beſt

In any chaſtifeMENT; I for a while

Will leave you; but ſtire not you till you have

Well determin'd upon theſe Slanderers.

Exit.

Eſc. My Lord, wee'll do it throughly: Signior Lucio,
did not you ſay, you knew that Fryer Lodowick to be a
difhoneſt perſon ?

Luc. Cucullus non facit Monachum, honet in nothing
but in his Cloaths, and one that hath ſpoke moſt villa-
nous ſpeeches of the Duke.

Eſc. We ſhall intreat you to abide here till he come,
and inſorce them againſt him: we ſhall finde this Fryer a
notable fellow.

Luc. As any in Vienna on my word.

Eſca. Call that fame Ifabell here once againe, I would
ſpeak with her: pray you, my Lord, give me leave to
quethion, you ſhall fee how Ile handle her.

Lmc. Not better than he, by her own report.

Eſca. Say you?

Lmc. Marry Sir, I think, if you handled her privately

She

82

Measure for Measure.

She should fooner confesse, perchance publikly she'll be
afham'd.

Emer Duke, Provoſt, Isabella.

Eſc. I will go darkly to work with her.

Luc. That's the way : for women are light at mid-
night.

Eſc. Come on Miftris, here's a Gentlewoman Denies
all that you have faid.

Luc. My Lord, here comes the Rafcall I spoke of,
Here with the Provoſt.

Eſc. In very good time : ſpeak not you to him, till we
call upon you.

Luc. Mum.

Eſc. Come fir, did you fet these women on to flander
Lord Angelo ? they have confes'd you did.

Duke. 'Tis faſſe.

Eſc. How ? know you where you are ?

Duke. Reſpect to your great place; and let the Devill
Be fome-time honour'd, for his burning throne.

Where is the Duke ? 'tis he I should hear me ſpeak.

Eſc. The Duke's in us; and we will hear you ſpeak,
Look you ſpeak juſtly.

Duke. Boldly at leaſt. But oh poor ſouls,
Come you to feek the Lamb here of the Fox?
Good night to your redresse : is the Duke gone ?
Then is your cauſe gone too : The Duke's unjuſt,
Thus to retort your manifeſt appeale,
And put your tryall in the villaines mouth,
Which here you come to accufe.

Luc. This is the Rafcall : this is he I ſpoke of.

Eſc. Why thou unreverend and unhallowed Fryer :
Is't not enough thou haſt suborn'd these women,
To accufe this worthy man ? but in foul mouth,
And in the wittineſſe of his proper ear,
To call him villaine; and then to glance from him,
To th' Duke himself, to tax him with Injuſtice ?
Take him hence ; to th' rack with him : we'll rowze you
Joymt by joymt, but we will know his purpofe :
What ? unjuſt ?

Duke. Be not ſo hot : the Duke dare
No more ſtretch this finger of mine, than he
Dare rack his own : his Subject am I nor,
Nor here Provinciall: My buſineſſe in this State
Made me a looker on here in Vienna,
Where I have been corruption boyl and bubble,
Till it ore-run the Stew: Laws for all faults,
But faults ſo countenanc'd, that the ſtrong Statutes
Stand like the forfeits in a Barbers ſhop,
As much in mock, as mark.

Eſe. Slander to th'state :

Away with him to prifon.

Ang. What can you vouch againſt him Signior Lucio ?
Is this the man that you did tell us of ?

Luc. 'Tis he, my Lord: come hither goodman bald-
pate, do you know me ?

Duke. I remember you fit by the found of your voyce,
I met you at the prifon in the abſence of the Duke.

Luc. Oh, did you ſo ? and do you remember what you
faid of the Duke ?

Duke. Moſt nor edly fir ?

Luc. Do you ſo fir : And was the Duke a fleſh-mon-
ger, a fool, and a coward, as you then reported him to
be ?

Duke. You muſt (fir) change perſons with me, ere you
make that my report : you indeed ſpoke ſo of him, and

much more, much worie.

Luc. Oh thou damnable fellow : did not I pluck thee
by the noſe, for thy ſpeeches ?

Duke. I protett, I love the Duke as I love my ſelf.

Ang. Hark how the villaine would cloſe now, after
his treaſonable abufes.

Eſc. Such a fellow is not to be talked withall : Away
with him to prifon : Where is the Provoſt ? away with
him to prifon: lay bolts enough upon him: let him ſpeak
no more : away with thofe Giglets too, and with the o-
ther confederate companion.

Duke. Stay fir, ſlay a while.

Ang. What, reſifts he ? help him Lucio.

Luc. Come fir, come fir, come fir : ſoh fir, why you
baldpated lying Rafcall : you muſt be hooded muſt you ?
how your knaves vifige with a pox to you: how your
ſheep-biting ſace, and be hang'd an houre : wilt not
off?

Duke. Thou art the firſt knave that ere mad'nt a Duke.
Firſt Provoſt, let me bayle theseſe gentle three :
Sneak not away fir, for the Fryer and you,
Muſt have a word anon: lay hold on him.

Luc. This may prove worſe than hanging.

Duke. What you have ſpoke, I pardon : it you down.
We'll borrow place of him; Sir, by your leave :
Ha'ft thou or word or wit, or impudence,
That yet can do thee office ? If thou ha'ſt,
Rely upon it, till my tale be heard,
And hold no longer out.

Ang. Oh my dread Lord.

I should be guiltier than my guiltineſſe,
To think I can be undifcernable,
When I perceive your Grace, like power Divine,
Hath look'd upon my paffes. Then good Prince,
No longer Seſſion hold upon my ſhame,
But let my tryall be mine own Conſeſſion :
Immediate ſentence then, and ſequent death,
Is all the grace I beg.

Duke. Come hither Mariana,

Say: was't thou ever contracted to this woman?

Ang. I was my Lord.

Duke. Go take her hence, and marry her infantly.
Do you the office (Fryer) which confummate,
Return him here again : go with him Provoſt.

Exit.

Eſc. My Lord, I am more amaz'd at his diſhonor,
Than at the ſtrangeneſſe of it.

Duke. Come hither Isabel,

Your Fryer is now your Prince : As I was then
Advertising, and holy to your buſineſſe,
(Not changing heart with habit) I am full, full,
Atturnied at your ſervice.

Iſab. Oh give me pardon

That I, your voffaile, have imploy'd and pain'd,
Your unknown Soveraignty.

Duke. You are pardon'd Iſabel :

And now dear Maid, be you as free to us.

Your brothers death, I know, firſs at your heart :

And you may marvail, why I obſcur'd my ſelf,

Labouring to fave his life; and would not rather

Make rafh remonſtrance of my hidden power,

Then let him ſo be loft : Oh moſt kinde Maid,

It was the ſwift celerity of his death,

Which I did think with flower foot came on,

That brain'd my purpose : but peace be with him,

That life is better life paſt fearing death,

Then that which lives to feare: make it your comfort,

So

86

The Comedy of Errors.

For we may pitty, though not pardon thee.

*Merch.* Oh had the gods done so, I had not now
Worthily tearm'd them mercilefle to us :
For ere the Ships could meet by twice five leagues,
We were encountered by a mighty rock,
Which being violently born up upon,
Our helpfull Ship was splitted in the midft;
So that in this unjuft divorce of us,
Fortune had left to both of us alike,
What to delight in, what to forrow for,
Her part, poor foul, feeming as burdened,
With leffer weight, but not with leffer woe,
Was carried with more speed before the winde,
And in our fight they three were taken up
By Fishermen of Corinth, as we thought.
At length another Ship had feiz'd on us,
And knowing whom it was their hap to fave,
Gave helpfull welcome to their Shipwrackt guefts,
And would have reft the Fishers of their prey,
Had not their Bark been very flow of fail;
And therefore homeward did they bend their courfe.
Thus have you heard me fever'd from my bliffe,
That by misfortunes was my life prolong'd,
To tell fae flories of my own mifhaps.

*Dake.* And for the fakes of them thou forroweft for,
Do me the favour to dilate at full,
What hath befall of them and thee till now.

*Merch.* My yongeft boy, and yet my eldeft care,
At eighteen years became inquifitive
After his brother ; and importun'd me
That his attendant, ( for his cafe was like,
Reft of his brother, but retain'd his name, )
Might bear him company in the queft of him :
Whom whil'th I laboured of a love to fee,
I hazarded the loffe of whom I lov'd.
Five Sommers have I spent in fartheft Greene,
Roming clean through the bounds of Afia,
And cofting homeward, came to Ephefus :
Hopeleffe to finde, yet loath to leave unfought
Or that, or any place that harbours men :
But here muft end the ſtory of my life,
And happy were I in my timely death,
Could all my travells warrant me they live.

*Duk.* Hapleſſe Egeon whom the fates have marke
To bear th' extremite of dire mifhap :
Now truſt me, were it not againſt our Lawes,
Aginſt my Crowne, my oath, my dignity,
Which Princes would, they may not diſaulluſt,
My foul ſhouſt ſue as advocate for thee :
But though thou art adjudged to the death,
And paffed ſentence may not be recal'd
But to our honours great diſparagement :
Yet will I favour thee in what I can,
Therefore Merchant, Ile limit thee this day
To feek thy help by beneficill help,
Try all the friends thou haſt in Ephefus,
Beg thou, or borrow, to make up the ſummee,
And live : if no, then thou art doom'd to die :
Jaylor take him to thy cuſtodie.

*Jaylor.* I will my Lord.

*Merch.* Hopeleſſe and helpleſſe doth Egeon wend,
But to procreaſtinate his liveleſſe end.

*Exeunt.*

*Enter Antipholis, Erotes, a Merchant, and Dromio.*

*Mer.* Therefore give out you are of Epidamium,
Left that your goods too ſoon be confiſcate :

*This very day a Syracúſan Merchant
Is apprehended for arrivall here,
And not being able to buy out his life,
According to the flatute of the Town,
Dies ere the weary Sunne ſet in the Weſt;
There is your money that I had to keep.*

*Ant.* Go bear it to the Centaure, where we hoſt,
And fly there Dromio, till I come to thee;
Till that Ile view the manners of the Town,
Within this hour it will be dinner time:
Perufe the traders, gaze upon the buildings,
And then return and ſleep within mine Inne,
For with long travaile I am bliffe and weary.
Get thee away.

*Dro.* Many a man would take you at your word,
And go indeed, having ſo good a means.

*Exit Dromio.*

*Ant.* A truſty villain fir, that very oft,
When I am dull with care and melancholly,
Lightens my humor with his merry jeſts :
What, will you walk with you upon the Mart,
And afterward confort you till bed time :
My prefent buſineſſe cals me from you now.

*E. Mer.* I am invited fir to certain Merchants,
Of whom I hope to make much benefit :
I crave your pardon, ſoon at five a clock,
Please you, Ile meet with you upon the Mart,
And afterward confort you till bed time :
My prefent buſineſſe cals me from you now.

*Ant.* Farewell till then : I will go loofe my life,
And wander up and down to view the Citie.

*E. Mer.* Sir I commend you to your own content.

*Exeunt.*

*Ant.* He that commends me to my own content,
Commends me to the thing I cannot get :
I to the world am like a drop of water,
That in the Ocean feeks another drop,
Who falling there to finde his fellow forth,
( Unſeen, inquiſitive ) confounds himſelf,
So I, to finde a Mother and a Brother,
Inqueſt of him ( unhappie ) loofe my ſelf.

*Enter Dromio of Ephefus.*

Here comes the almanack of my true date :
What now ? How chance thou art return'd ſo ſoon,

*E. Dro.* Return'd ſo ſoon, rather approach too late :

The Capon burnes, the Pig fals from the ſpit;
The clock hath ſtrucken twelve upon the bell :
My Miftris made it one upon my cheek :
She is ſo hot becauſe the meat is cold :
The meat is cold becauſe you come not home :
You come not home, becauſe you have no ſtomack :
You have no ſtomack, having broke your ſaſt :
But we that know what 'tis to ſaſt and pray,
Are penitent for your default to day.

*Ant.* Stop in your winde fir, tell me this I pray,
Where have you left the money that I gave you?

*E. Dro.* Oh ? fix pence that I had a wenſiday laſt,
To pay the Sadler for my Miftris crupper :
The Sadler had it Sir, I kept it not.

*Ant.* I am not in a ſportive humor now :
Tell me, and dally not, where is the money ?
We being ſtrangers here, how dar't thou truſt
So great a charge from thine own cuſtodie.

*E. Dro.* I pray you jeſt fir as you ſit at dinner :
I from my Miftris come to you in poſt :
If I return I ſhall be poſt indeed.

For

The Comedy of Errors.

87

For the will ſcoure your fault upon my pate :

Methinks your maw, like mine, ſhould be your cook,
And ſtrike you home without a meſſenger.

Ant. Come Dromio, come, theſe jeſts are out of ſeafon,
Reſerve them till a merrier houre than this :

Where is the gold I gave in charge to thee ?

E. Dro. To me fir ? why you gave no gold to me ?

Ant. Come on fir knave, have done your foolſihneſs,

And tell me how thou haſt diſpoſ'd thy charge.

E. Dro. My charge was but to fetch you from the Mart
Home to your houſe, ( the Phænix fir ) to dinner :

My Miftris and her ſifter (laſſes for you.)

Ant. Now as I am a Chriſtian anſwer me,

In what ſafe place you have beſtow'd my money :

Or I ſhall break that merry ſconce of yours

That rands on tricks, when I am undiſpoſ'd :

Where is the thouſand Marks thou haſt of me ?

E. Dro. I have ſome marks of yours upon my pate :

Some of my Miftris marks upon my ſhouſders :

But not a thouſand marks between you both.

If I should pay your worſhip thatſe again,
Perchance you will not bear them patiently.

Ant. Thy Miftris marks ? what miftris ſlave haſt thou ?

E. Dro. Your worſhips wife, my miftris at the Phænix ;

She that doth ſaſt till you come home to dinner :

And prays that you will hie you home to dinner.

Ant. What wilt thou flout me thus unto my ſace
Being forbid ? There take you that fir knave.

E. Dro. What mean you fir, for God ſake hold your
Nay, and you will not fir, Ile take my heels. ( hands :

Exit Dromio Ep.

Ant. Upon my life by ſome device or other,
The villain is ore-wrought of all my money.

They ſay this Town is full of cofenage :

As nimble Juglers that deceive the eye :

Dark-working Sorceraſs that change the minde :

Soul-killing Witches, that deforme the body :

Difguſed Cheaters, prating Mountebanks ;

And many ſuch like liberties of finne :

If it prove ſo, I will be gone the ſooner :

Ile to the Centaure to go ſeek this ſlave,

I greatly feare my money is not ſafe.

Exit.

## Actus Secunda.

Enter Adriana, wife to Antipholis Sereptus,
with Luciana her Sifter.

Adr. Neither my husband nor the ſlave return'd,
That in ſuch haſte I ſent to ſeek his Maſter ?

Sure Luciana it is two a clock.

Luc. Perhaps ſome Merchant hath invited him,
And from the Mart he's ſomewhere gone to dinner :

Good Sifter, Let us dine, and never ſret ;

A man is Maſter of his libertie ;

Time is their Maſter, and when they ſee time,

They'll go or come ; if ſo, be patient Sifter.

Adr. Why ſhould their libertie than ours be more ?

Luc. Because their buſineſſe fill lyes out adore.

Adr. Look when I ſerve him ſo, he takes it ill.

Luc. Oh, know he is the bridle of your will.

Adr. There's none but affes will be bridled ſo.

Luc. Why, headſtrong liberty is laſt with woe :
There's nothing ſituate under heavens eye,
But hath his bound in earth, in ſea, in skie.

The beaſts, the ſiſhes, and the winged ſowles

Are their maſes ſubjeſts, and at their controules :

Man more divine, the Maſter of all theſe,

Lord of the wide world, and wide warry ſeas,

Indued with intelleſtuall ſence and ſoul,

Of more preheminence than fifth and ſoſle.

Are maſters to their females, and their Lords :

Then let your will attend on their accords.

Adri. This ſervitude makes you to keep unwed.

Luci. Not this but troubles of the marriage bed.

Adr. But were you wedded, you would bear ſome ſway.

Luc. Ere I learn love, I leaſtife to obey.

Adr. How if your husband start ſome other where?

Luc. Till he come home again, I would thoughrebe.

Adr. Patience unmoſ'd, no marvell though the paſſe,

They can be meek, that have no other cauſe :

A wretched ſoul bruis'd with adverſtie,

We bid be quiet when we hear it crie.

But were we burdned with like waight of pain,

As much, or more, we thought our ſelves complain :

So thou that haſt no unkinde mate to grieve thee,

With urging helſpſe patience would relieve me;

But if thou live to feel like right bereft,

This fool-beeg'd patience in thee will be left.

Luci. Well, I will marry one day but to trie :

Here comes your man, now is your husband nie.

Enter Dromio Eph.

Adr. Say, is your tardie Maſter now at hand ?

E. Dro. Nay, he's at two hands with me, and that my
two eares can witneſſe.

Adr. Say, didt thou ſpeak with him ? knowſt thou
his minde ?

E. Dro. I, I, he told his minde upon mine eare,

Beflirew his hand, I ſcarce could underſand it.

Luc. Spake he ſo doubtfully, thou couldſt not feel
his meaning.

E. Dro. Nay, he ſtruck ſo plainly, I could too well
feel his blows; and withall ſo doubtfully, that I could
ſcarce underſand them.

Adri. But ſay, I prethee, is he coming home ?

It feems he hath great care to pleafe his wife.

E. Dro. Why Miftrſe, ſure my Maſter is horn mad.

Adri. Horn mad, thou villain ?

E. Dro. I mean not Cuckold-mad,

But ſure he is ſtark mad :

When I deſir'd him to come home to dinner ;

He ask'd me for a 1000. marks in gold :

Tis dinner time, quoth I: my gold, quoth he :

Your meat doth burn, quoth I: my gold, quoth he :

Will you come, quoth I: my gold, quoth he ;

Where is the thouſand marks I gave thee villan ?

The Pigge, quoth I, is burn'd: my gold, quoth he :

My miftrſe, fir, quoth I: hang up thy miftrſe ;

I know not thy miftrſe, out on my miftrſe.

Luc. Quoth who ?

E. Dro. Quoth my Maſter, I know, quoth he, no houſe,
no wife, no miftrſe : ſo that my arrant due unto my
tongue, I thank him, I bare home upon my ſhoulders :
for in concluſion, he did beſe me there.

Adr. Go back again thou ſlave, and fetch him home.

Dro. Go back again, and be new beaſten home ?

For Gods ſake ſend ſome other meſſenger.

H 2

Adri. Back

The Comedy of Errors.

88

Adri. Back flive, or I will break thy pate acroffe.
Dro. And he will bleſſe that croſſe with other beating:
Between you, I ſhall have a holy head.
Adri. Hence prating pefant, fetch thy mafter home.
Dro. Am I to round with you, as you with me,
That like a foot-ball you do ſpurn me thus:
You ſpurn me hence, and he will ſpurn me hither,
If I laſt in this ſervice, you muſt cafe me in leather. Exit.

Luci. Fie how impatience lowreth in your face :
Adri. His company muſt do his minions grace,
Whil't I at home ſtarve for a merry look :

Hath homely age th'alluring beauty took
From my poor cheek ? then he hath waſted it.
Are my diſcourſes dull ? Barren my wit,
If voluble and ſharp diſcourſe be mat'd,
Unkindneſſe blots it more than marble hard.
Do their gay vellments his affections bate ?
That's nor my fault, he's matter of my ſtale.
What ruines are in me that can be found,
By him not ruin'd ? Then is he the ground
Of my deafeures. My decayed faire,
A funny look of his, would foon repreife.

But (too unruly Deer,) he breaks the pale,
And feeds from home; poor I am but his ſtale.
Luci. Self-harming jealousy, ſie beat it hence.

Ad. Unfeeling fools can with ſuch wrongs diſpence :

I know his eye doth homage other-where,
Or eſſe, what leſt it but he would be here ?
Sifter, you know he promised me a chain,
Would that alone, alone he would detain,
So he would keep faire quarter with his bed:
I fee the Jewel beſt enamelled

Will loſe his beauty : yet the gold bides full

That others touch, and often touching will :

Since that my beauty cannot plesa his eie,

He weep (what's left ) away and weeping die.

Luc. How many fond fools ſerve mad Jealousie?

Exeunt.

Enter Antipholis Erotes.

Ant. The gold I gave to Dromio is laid up
Safe at the Centaur, and the heedfull flave
Is wandred forch in care to ſee me out
By computation and mine hoſts report.
I could not ſpeak with Dromio, ſince at firſt
I ſent him from the Mart: fee here he comes.

Enter Dromio Siracusan.

How now fir, is your merry humor alter'd ?

As you love ſtrons, ſo jeſt with me again :
You know no Centaur ? you receiv'd no gold?

Your miſtris ſent to have me home to dinner ?

My house was at the Phoenix ? Waſt thou mad,
That thus ſo madly thou didſt anſwer me?

S. Dro. What anſwer fir ? when ſpake I ſuch a word?

E. Ant. Even now, even here, not half an houre ſince.

S. Dro. I did not fee you ſince you ſent me hence

Home to the Centaur with the gold you gave me?

Ant. Villain, thou didſt deny the golds receiv,
And toldſt me of a Miſtris, and a dinner.

For which I hope thou feltſt I was diſpleas'd.
S. Dro. I am glad to fee you in this merry veine,
What means this jeſt, I pray you Maſter tell me?

Ant. Yea, doſt thou jeer and flowt me in the teeth?

Thinkt thou I jeſtzhold, take thou that, & that. Beats Dro.

S. Dro. Hold fir, for Gods ſake, now your jeſt is earneſt,

Upon what bargain do you give it me?

Antiph. Because that I familiarly sometimes
Do uſe you for my fool, and chat with you,
Your ſwineſſe will jeſt upon my love,
And make a Common of my ſerious houres.

When the Sunne ſhines, let foolſh gnats make ſport,
But creep in crannies, when he hides his beames ;
If you will jeſt with me, know my aſpect,
And fashion your demeanor to my looks,
Or I will beat this method in your ſconce.

S. Dro. ſconce call you it ? so you would leave battering, I had rather have it a head, and you uſe theſe blows long, I muſt get a ſconce for my head, and Inſconce it too, or eſſe I ſhall ſeek my wit in my shoulders, but I pray fir, why am I beaten ?

Ant. Doſt thou not know ?

S. Dro. Nothing fir, but that I am beaten.

Ant. Shall I tell you why ?

S. Dro. I fir, and wherefore ; for they ſay, every why
hath a wherefore.

Ant. Why firſt for flouting me, and then wherefore,
for urging it the ſecond time to me.

S. Dro. Was there ever any man thus beaten out of
feaſon, when in the why and the wherefore, is neither
time nor reaſon. Well fir, I thank you.

Ant. Thank me fir, for what ?

S. Dro. Marry fir, for this ſomething that you gave me
for nothing.

Ant. Ile make you amends next, to give you nothing
for ſomething. But ſay fir, is it dinner time?

S. Dro. No fir, I think the meat wants that I have.

Ant. In good time fir, what's that ?

S. Dro. Baſting.

Ant. Well fir, then 'will be dry.

S. Dro. If it be fir, I pray you eat not of it.

Ant. Your reaſon ?

S. Dro. Left it make you chollerick, and purchase me
another dry baſting.

Ant. Well fir, learn to jeſt in good time, there's a
time for all things.

S. Dro. I durſt have denied that before you were ſo
chollerick.

Anti. By what rule fir ?

S. Dro. Marry fir, by a rule as plain as the plain bald
pate of Father time himself.

Ant. Let's hear it.

S. Dro. There's no time for a man to recover his haire
that grows bald by nature.

Ant. May he not do it by fine and recovery ?

S. Dro. Yes, to pay a fine for a perewig, and recover
the loft haire of another man.

Ant. Why, is Time ſuch a niggard of haire, being ( as
it is) ſo plentifull an excrement ?

S. Dro. Because it is a bleſſing that he beſtows on
beaſts, and what he hath ſcanted them in haire, he hath
given them in wit.

Ant. Why, but there's many a man hath more haire
than wit.

S. Dro. Not a man of thate but he hath the wit to loſe
his haire.

Ant. Why, thou didſt conclude hairy men plain dea-
lers without wit.

S. Dro. The plainer dealer, the ſooner loſt ; yet he ſoo-
ſeth it in a kind of jollitie.

Ant. For what reaſon ?

S. Dro. For two, and found ones too.

An. Nay

The Comedy of Errors.

89

An. Nay not found ones I pray you.

S. Dro. Sure ones then.

An. Nay, not fure in a thing falſing.

S. Dro. Certain ones then.

An. Name them.

S. Dro. The one to favre the money that he ſpends in
trying : the other, that at dinner they ſhould not drop in
his porrage.

An. You would all this time have prov'd, there is no
time for all things.

S. Dro. Marry and did ſir: namely, no time to reco-
ver haire loft by Nature.

An. But your reaſon was not ſubſtantiall, why there
is no time to recover.

S. Dro. Thus I mend it: Time himself is bald, and
therefore to the worlds end, with have bald followers.

An. I knew 'twould be a bald conclusion : but loft,
who waſts us yonder ?

Enter Adriana and Luciana.

Adri. I, I, Antipolis, look ſtrange and frowne,
Some other Mifſtreſſe hath ſome ſweer aſpectes :
I am not Adriana, nor thy wife.
The time was once, when thou un-urg'd wouldſt vow,
That never words were muſſick to thine eare,
That never object pleaſing in thine eye,
That never touch well welcome to thy hand;
That never meat (sweet-favour'd in thy taſte)
Unleſſe I ſpake, or look'd, or touch'd or carv'd to thee.
How comes it now, (my Husband) oh how comes it,
That thou art then eſtretched from thy ſelf?
Thy ſelf I call it, being ſtrange to me :

That undividable Incorporate
Am better than thy deere ſelſes better part.
Ah do not tear away thy ſelf from me ;
For my love: as eafie maſt thou fall
A drop of water in the breaking gulfes,
And take unmingled thence that drop again
Without addition or diminifhing,
As take from me thy ſelf, and not me too.
How dearly would it touch thee to the quick,
Shouldſt thou hear I were licencious ?
And that this body confecrate to thee,
By Ruffian Luſt should be contaminate ?
Wouldſt thou not ſpit at me, and ſpurn at me,
And hurl the name of husband in my face,
And tear the ſkin of my Hurſor brow,
And from my ſalſe hand cut the weddling ring,
And break it with a deep-divorcing vow ?
I know thou canſt, and therefore ſee thou do it.
I am poſſett with an adulterate blot,
My bloud is mingled with the crime of luſt :
For if we two be one, and thou play ſalſe,
I do digeſt the poyſon of my fleſh,
Being trumpered by thy contagion.
Keep then faire league and truce with thy true bed,
I live diſtain'd, thou undiſhonoured.

Antip. Plead you to me faire dame ? I know you not:
In Ephesus I am but two hours old,
As ſtrange unto your town, as to your talk,
Who every word by all my wit being ſcan'd,
Wants wit in all, one word to underſtand.

Luci. Fie brother, how the world is chang'd with you:
When were you wont to uſe my filter thus ?
She ſent for you by Dromio home to dinner.

Ant. By Dromio?

Dromio. By me.

Adr. By thee, and thus thou didst return from him.
That he did buffet thee, and in his blows,
Denied my houſe for his, me for his wife.

Ant. Did you converſe ſir with this Gentlewoman:
What is the courſe and drift of your compact?

S. Dro. I ſir ? I never ſaw her till this time.

Ant. Villain thou lieſt, for even her very words,
Didſt thou deliver to me on the Marr.

S. Dro. I never ſpake with her in all my life.

Ant. How can ſhe thus then call us by our names ?
Unleſſe it be by inſpiration.

Adr. How ill agrees it with your gravitie,
To counterſeit thus groſely with your ſlave,
Abetting him to thwart me in my moode ;
Be it my wrong, you are from me exempt,
But wrong not that wrong with a more contempt.

Come I will faſten on this ſleeve of thine:
Thou art an Elme, my husband, I a Vine:

Whose weakneſſe married to thy ſtronger ſlave,
Makes me with thy ſtrength to communicate :

If ought poſſeſſe thee from me, it is droſſe,
Urſurping Ivie, Brier, or idle Moſſe,

Who all for want of pruning, with intrusion,
Inſect thy Sap, and live on thy conſuſion.

Ant. To me ſhe ſpeaks, ſhe moves me for her
theame;

What, was I married to her in my dreame ?

Or ſleep I now, and think I hear all this ?

What error drives our eyes and eares amſiſſe ?

Untill I know this ſure uncertaintie,
Ile entertain the free'd fallacie.

Luc. Dromio, Go bid the ſervants ſped for dinner.

S. Dro. Oh for my beads, I croſſe me for a ſinner.
This is the fairy land, oh ſpite of ſpightes,

We talk with Goblins, Ovles and Elves Sprights ;

If we obey them not, this will inſue :

They'l fuck our breath, or pinch us black and blew.

Luc. Why prat'th thou to thy ſelf,

Dromio, thou Dromio's maſle, thou ſlug, thou ſot,

S. Dro. I am transformed Maſter, am I not?

Ant. I think thou art in minde, and so am I.

S. Dro. Nay Maſter, both in minde, and in my ſhape.

Ant. Thou haſt thine own ſorme.

S. Dro. No, I am an Ape.

Luc. If thou art chang'd to ought, 'tis to an Aſſe.

S. Dro. 'Tis true ſhe rides me, and I long for graſſe.
'Tis so, I am an Aſſe, eſſe it could never be,

But I should know her as well as ſhe knows me.

Adr. Come, come, no longer will I be a fool,
To put the finger in the eye and weep :

Whil'th man and maſter laughs my woes to ſcorn :
Come fir to dinner, Dromio keep the gate :

Husband Ite dine above with you to day,

And ſhrive you of a thouſand idle pranks :

Sirra, if any ask you for your Maſter,

Say he dines forth, and let no creature enter :
Come filter, Dromio play the Porter well.

Ant. Am I in earth, in heaven, or in hell ?
Sleeping or waking, mad or well adviſ'd :

Known unto theſe, and to my ſelf diſguſ'd &
Ile ſay as they ſay, and perſever ſo :

And in this mift at all adventures go.

S. Dro, Maſter, ſhall I be Porter at the gate ?

Adr. I, and let none enter, leaſt I break your pate.

Luci. Come, come, Antipolis, we dine too late.

H 3

ACTUS

The Comedy of Errors.

93

And buy a ropes end, that will I below
Among my wife, and their confederates,
For locking me out of my doors by day :
But soft I see the Goldsmith; get thee gone,
Buy thou a rope and bring it home to me.

Dro. I buy a thousand pound a year, I buy a rope.

Exit Dromio.

Eph. Ant. A man is well holp up that trufts to you,
my prefence, and the Chain,
But neither Chain nor Goldsmith came to me:
Belike you thought our love would last too long
If it were chain'd together: and therefore came not.
Gold. Saving your merry humor, here's the note
How much your Chain weighs to the utmost Raccat,
The fineneſſe of the Gold, and chargefull fashion,
Which doth amount to three odde Ducks more
Then I ſtand debted to this Gentleman,
I pray you fee him prefently diſcharg'd,
For he is bound to Sea, and flays but for it.

Ant. I am not furniſhed with the prefent money:
Besides I have ſome buſineſſe in the Town,
Good Signior take the ſtranger to my houſe,
And with you take the Chain, and bid my wife
Disburſe the ſumme, on the receit thereof,
Perchance I will be there as soon as you.

Gold. Then you will bring the Chain to her your
ſelf.

Ant. No, bear it with you, leaſt I come not time
enough.

Gold. Well fir, I will ? Have you the Chain about
you ?

Ant. And if I have not fir, I hope you have:
Or eſſe you may return without your money.

Gold. Nay come I pray you fir, give me the Chain:
Both winde and tide flays for the Gentleman,
And I to blame have held him here too long.

Ant. Good Lord, you uſe this dalliance to excufe
Your breach of promiſe to the Porpentine,
I should have chid you for not bringing it,
But like a ſhrew you ſtbegin to brawle.

Mer. The houre ſteals on, I pray you fir diſpatch,
Gold. You hear how he importunes me, the Chain :
Ant. Why give it to my wife, and fetch your money.
Gold. Come, come, you know I gave it you even now.
Either ſend the Chain, or ſend me by ſome token.

Ant. Fie, now you run this humor out of breath,
Come where's the Chain, I pray you let me fee it,
Mer. My buſineſſe cannot brook this dalliance,
Good fir ſay, wher' you I anſwer me, or no :

If not, Ile leave him to the Officer.

Ant. I anſwer you ? Why ſhould I anſwer you?

Gold. The money that you owe me for the Chain.

Ant. I owe you none till I receive the Chain.

Gold. You know I gave is you half an houre ſince.

Ant. You gave me none, you wrong me much to
ſay fo.

Gold. You wrong me fir in denying it:

Confider how it stands upon my credit.

Mer. Well Officer, arreſt him at my ſuite,

Offi. I do, and charge you in the Dukes name to o-
bey me.

Gold. This touches me in reputation.
Either conſent to pay the ſum for me,
Or I attach you by this Officer.

Ant. Conſent to pay that I never had :
Arreſt me foolish ſellow if thou dar'ſt.

Gold. Here is thy fee, arreſt him, Officer.
I would not spare my brother in this cafe,
If he should ſcorn me ſo apparently.

Offi. I do arreſt you fir, you hear the ſuite.

Ant. I do obey thee, till I give thee baile.
But firrah you ſhall buy this ſport as deer,
As all the mettall in your shop will anſwer.

Gold. Sir, fir, I ſhall have Law in Ephesius,
To your notorious ſhame, I doubt it nor.

Enter Dromio Sir a, from the Bay.

Dro. Matter, there's a Bark of Epidamium,
That flays but till her Owner comes aboord,
Then fir the bears away. Our fraughtage fir,
I have convey'd aboord, and I have brought
The Oyle, the Balfasum, and Aqua-vitæ.
The Ship is in her trim, the merry winde
Blows faire from land : they ſay for nought at all,
But for their Owner, Matter, and your ſelf.

Ant. How now I a Madman ! Why thou peeviſh sheep,
What Ship of Epidamium flays for me ?

S. Dro. A Ship you ſent me to, to her waſtage.

Ant. Thou drunken ſlave, I ſent thee for a rope,
And told thee to what purpose and what end.

S. Dro. You ſent me for a ropes end as ſoon,
You ſent me to the Bay fir, for a Bark.

Ant. I will debate this matter at more leisure,
And reach your eares to lift me with more heede :
To Adriana Villain hie thee Straight:

Give her this key, and tell her in the Desk
That's cover'd o're with Turkifih Tapitry,
There is a purſe of Ducks, let her ſend it :
Tell her, I am arreſted in the ſtree,
And that ſhall baile me: hie thee ſlave, be gone,
On Officer to prifon, till it come.

Exeunt.

S. Dro. To Adriana, that is where we din'ct,
Where Domſabell did claime me for her husband,
She is too big I hope for me to compaſſe,
Thither I muſt, although againſt my will :

For ſervants muſt their Maſters minds fulfil.

Exit.

Enter Adriana and Luciana.

Adri. Ah Luciana, did he tempt thee ſo,
Might'ſt thou perceive anſteerely in his eye,
That he did plead in earneſt, yea or no :
Look'ſ he or red, or pale, or ſad or merrily ?
What obſervation mad'ſt thou in this cafe ?
Of his hearts Mercors tilting in his face?

Luc. First he denied you had in him no right.

Adr. He meant he did me none : the more my ſpight.

Luc. Then ſwore he that he was a ſtranger here.

Adr. And true he ſwore, though yet forſworne he
were.

Luc. Then pleaded I for you.

Adr. And what ſaid he?

Luc. That love I begg'd for you, he begg'd of me.

Adr. With what perſwafion did he tempt thy love?

Luc. With words, that in an honest ſuit might move.

First, he did praife my beautie, then my ſpeech.

Adr. Did'ſt ſpeak him faire ?

Luc. Have patience I beſeech you.

Adr. I cannot, nor I will not hold me ſill,

My tongue, though not my heart, ſhall have his will.
He is deformed, crooked, old and ſere,

Ill-fac'd, worſe bodied, ſhapeleſſe every where :

Vicious, ungentle, foolish, blunt, unkinde,

Stigma-

The Comedy of Errors.

94

Stigmaticall in making, worfe the minde.

Luc. Who would be jealous then of such a one ?
No evil lot is wail'd, when it is gone.

Adr. Ah but I think him better than I lay :
And yet would herein others eyes were worfe :
Far from her neil the Lapwing cryes away;
My heart prays for him, though my tongue do curse.

Enter S. Dromio.

Dro. Here, go : the desk, the purse, the sweet now make
hafte.

Luc. How haſt thou loft thy breath ?

S. Dro. By running faſt.

Adr. Where is thy Matter Dromio ? Is he well ?

S. Dro. No, he's in Tartar limbo, worſe than hell :

A devill in an everlaſting garment hath him ;
One whole hard heart is button'd up with fleel :

A Feind, a Fairie, pittrilleſe and ruffe :

A Wolfe, my worſe, a fellow all in buffe,
A back friend, a shoulder-clapper, one that countermands
The paſſages of allies, creeks, and narrow lands :
A hound that runs Counter, and yet draws drifoot well,
One that before the Judgement carries poor fouls to hell.

Adr. Why man, what is the matter ?

S. Dro. I do not know the matter, he is reſted on the
cafe.

Adr. What is he arreſted ? tell me at wholeſe ſuite ?

S. Dro. I know not at wholeſe ſuite he is arreſted, well ;
but he's in a ſuite of buffe which reſed him, that I can tell :
Will you ſend him Miftris redemption, the money in his
desk ?

Adr. Go fetch it Sifter: this I wonder at.

Exit Luciana.

That he unknown to me should be in debt :

Tell me, was he areſted on a band ?

S. Dro. Not on a band, but on a ſtronger thing :

A chain, a chain, do you not hear it ring ?

Adria, What, the chain ?

S. Dro. No, no, the bell, 'tis time that I were gone :
It was two ere I left him, and now the clock strikes one.

Adr. The hours come back ! that did I never hear.

S. Dro. Oh yes, if any hour meet a Sergeant, a turns
back for very fear.

Adri. As if time were in debt: how fondly doth thou
reason ?

S. Dro. Time is a very bankrout, and owes more than
he's worth to reason.

Nay, he's a theef too: have you not heard men ſay,
That time comes ſtealing on by night and day ?

If I be in debt and theft, and a Sergeant in the way,
Hath he not reason to turn back an hour in a day ?

Enter Luciana.

Luc. Go Dromio, there's the money, bear it straight,
And bring thy Maſter home immediately.

Come filter, I am preſt down with conceit :

Conceit, my comfort and my injurie.

Exit.

Enter Antipholis Siracusian.

An. S. There's not a man I meet but doth falute me,
As if I were their well acquainted friend,
And every one doth call me by my name :

Some tender money to me, fome invite me ;
Some other give me thanks for kindneſſes ;

Some offer me Commodities to buy.
Even now a tailor call'd me in his ſhop,

And ſhow'd me Silks that he had bought for me,
And therewithall took meaſure of my body.

Sure there are but imaginary wiles,
And Lapland Sorcerers inhabite here.

Enter Dromio, Sir.

S. Dro. Maſter, here's the gold you ſent me for: what
have you got the picture of old Adam new apparell'd ?

Ant. What gold is this ? What Adam do't thou
mean?

S. Dro. Not that Adam that kept the Paradife : but
that Adam that keeps the prifon ; he that goes in the
calves-skin, that was kil'd for the Prodigall : he that
came behinde you fir, like an evill Angel, and bid you for-
fake your liberty.

Ant. I understand thee not.

S. Dro. No ? why 'tis a plain cafe : he that went like
a Bare Viole in a cafe of leather ; the man fir, that when
Gentlemen are tired gives them a fob, and reſts them :
he fir, that takes pitty on decayed men, and gives them
fuſts of durance : he that fet's up his reſt to do more ex-
eploits with his Mace, than a Moris Pike.

Adr. What ! thou mean't an Officer ?

S. Dro. I Sir, the Serjeant of the Band : he that brings
any man to anſwer it that breaks his Band : one that
thinks a man alwayes going to bed, and faith, God give
you good reſt.

Adr. Well fir, there reſt in your foolery :

Is there any Ship puts forth to night ? may we be gone ?

S. Dro. Why fir, I brought you word an hour ſince
that the Bark Expedition put forth to night, and then,
were you hindred by the Serjeant to carry for the Hay
Delay ; Here are the angels that you ſent for to deliver
you.

Adr. The fellow is diſtraſt, and so am I,
And here we wander in illuſions :
Some bleſſed power deliver us from hence.

Enter a Curtizan.

Cur. Well met, well met, Maſter Antipholis :

I fee fir, you have found the Goldſmith now :

Is that the Chain you promis'd me to day ?

Adr. Sathan avoide, I charge thee teem me not.

S. Dro. Maſter, is this Miftris Sathan ?

Adr. It is the devill.

S. Dro. Nay, ſhe is worſe, ſhe is the devills dam :
And here ſhe comes in the habit of a light wench, and
thereof comes that the wenches ſay God dam me, That's
as much to ſay, God make me a light wench : It is writ-
ten, they appeare to men like angels of light, light is an
effect of fire, and fire will burne : ergo, light wenches will
burne, come not neere her.

Cur. Your man and you are marveilous merry fir.

Will you go with me, wee'll mend our dinner here ?

S. Dro. Maſter, if you do, expect ſpoon-meate, or be-
fpeak a long ſpoon.

Adr. Why, Dromio ?

S. Dromio. Marry he muſt have a long ſpoon that muſt
eat with the devill.

Adr. Avoid then fiend, what tel'ſt thou me of ?
Thou art, ( as you are all, ) a forcerereſſe ? (ping)
I conjure thee to leave me, and be gon.

Cur. Give me the ring of mine you had dinner,
Or for my Diamond the chain you promis'd,
And Ile be gon fir, and not trouble you.

S. Dro. Some devills ask but the parings of ones naile,

a

The Comedy of Errors.

95

a rufh, a haire, a drop of bloud, a pin, a nut, a cherry-
flone: but the more covetous, would have a chain: M-
fter be wife, and if you give it her, the devill will shake her
Chain, and fright us with it.

Cur. I pray you fir, my Ring, or elfe the Chain,
I hope you do not mean to cheat me fo?

Ant. Avant thou witch : Come Dromio let us go.

S. Dro. Flie pride fays the Pea-cock, Miftris that you know. Exeunt.

Cur. Now out of doubt Antipholus is mad,
Eſſe would he never ſo demeane himſelf,
A Ring he hath of mine worth forſtie Ducks,
And for the fame he promis'd me a Chain,
Both one and other he denies me now :
The reaſon that I gather he is mad,
(Befides this preſent inſtance of his rage,)
Is a mad tale he told to day at dinner,
Of his own doors being flut against his entrance,
Belike his wife acquainted with his fits,
On purpofe flut the doors against his way.
My way is now to hie home to his houſe,
And tell his wife that being Lunatick,
He rufh'd into my houſe, and took perſence
My Ring away. This courſe I fitteſt choofe,
For forty Ducks is too much to loofe.

Exit.

Enter Antipholus Ephes. with a Jaylor.

An. Fear me not man, I will not break away,
He give thee ere I leave thee ſo much money
To warrant thee as I am reſtied for.
My wife is in a wayward mood to day,
And will not lightly truſt the Meſſenger,
That I should be attach'd in Ephesus,
I tell you 'twill found harſhly in her eares.

Enter Dromio Eph. with a ropes end.

Here comes my Man, I think he brings the money.

How now fir ? Have you that I ſent you for ?

E. Dro. Here's that I warrant you will pay them all.

Ant. But where's the Money ?

E. Dro. Why fir, I gave the Money for the Rope.

Ant. Five hundred Ducks villan for a rope?

E. Dro. Ile ſerve you fir five hundred at the rate.

Ant. To what end did I bid thee hie thee home ?

E. Dro. To a ropes end fir, and to that end am I re-
turn'd.

Ant. And to that end fir, I will welcome you.

Offi. Good fir be patient.

E. Dro. Nay'ris for me to be patient, I am in adver-
ficie.

Offi. Good now hold thy tongue.

E. Dro. Nay, rather perſwade him to hold his hands.

Ant. Thou whorſon ſenſeleſſe Villain.

E. Dro. I would I were ſenſeleſſe fir, that I might not
feel your blows.

Ant. Thou art ſenſible in nothing but blows, and
ſo is an Aſſe.

E. Dro. I am an Aſſe indeed, you may prove it by
my long eares. I have ſerved him from the hour of my
Nativitie to this instant, and have nothing at his hands
for my ſervice but blows. When I am cold, he heats
me with beating; when I am warmes, he cools me with
beating : I am wak'd with it when I ſleep, rais'd with
it when I fir, driven out of doors with it when I go
from home, welcom'd home with it when I return, may

I bear it on my shoulders, as a beggar woont her brat,
and I think when he hath Iam'd me, I shall begge with
it from door to door.

Enter Adriana, Luciana, Courtizan, and a Schoole-
maſter, called Pinch.

Ant. Come go along, my wife is comming yon-
der.

E. Dro. Miftris respice finem, respect your end, or ra-
ther the propheſe like the Parrot, beware the ropes end.

Ant. Wilt thou full talke ?

Beats Dro.

Cur. How ſay you now ? Is not your husband mad ?

Adri. His invicibility confirmes no leſſe :

Good Docto Pinch, you are a Conjurer,

Eſtablish him in his true fence againe,
And I will pleafe you what you will demand.

Luc. Alas how fiery and how sharp he looks,

Cur. Mark, how he trembles in his extaſſe.

Pinch. Give me your hand, and let me feel your pulſe.

Ant. There is my hand, and let it feel your eare.

Pinch. I charge thee Sathan, houſ'd within this man

To yeeld poſſeſſion to my holy prayers,

And to thy flate of darkneſſe hie thee fraight,
I conjure thee by all the Saints in heaven.

Adr. Peace doting wizard, peace; I am not mad,

Adr. Oh that thou wert not, poor diſtrefſed foul.

Ant. You Minion you, are theſe your Cuctomers?

Did this companion with the ſaffron face

Revell and feaſt it at my houſe to day,

Whilft upon me the guilſtje doors were flut,

And I denied to enter in my houſe.

Adr. O husband, God doth know you din'd at home,

Where would you had remain'd untill this time,

Free from theſe flanders, and this open ſhame.

Ant. Din'd at home ? Thou Villain, what ſayſt
thou ?

Dro. Sir footh to ſay, you did not dine at home.

Ant. Were not my doors lockt up, and I flut out ?

Dro. Perdie, your doors were lockt, and you flut
out.

Ant. And did not ſhe her ſelf revile me there?

Dro. Sans Fable, ſhe her ſelf revil'd you there.

Ant. Did not her Kitchen maide raile, taunt, and
ſcorne me?

Dro. Certis ſhe did, the Kitchen veſtall ſcorn'd you :

Ant. And did not I in rage depart from thence?

Dro. In veritie you did, my bones bear witneſſe,

That ſince have felt the ſigor of his rage.

Adr. It's good to ſmooth him in theſe contraries ?

Pinch. It is no ſhame, the fellow finds his veine,

And yeelding to him, humors well his frenſie.

Ant. Thou haſt ſuborn'd the Goldſmith to arreſt
me.

Adr. Alas, I ſent you Money to redeem you,
By Dromio here, who came in haſt for it.

Dro. Money by me ? Heart and good will you might,
But ſurely Maſter not a ragge of Money.

Ant. Wentſt not thou to her for a purſe of Ducks?

Adri. He came to me and I deliver'd it.

Luci. And I am witneſſe with her that ſhe did :

Dro. God and the Rope-maker bear me witneſſe,

That I was ſent for nothing but a rope.

Pinch. Miftris, both Man and Maſter is poſſeſt,
I know it by their pale and deadly looks.

They

96

The Comedy of Errors.

They must be bound and laid in some dark room.

Ant. Say wherefore didst thou lock me forth to day,
And why doft thou deny the bag of gold?

Adr. I did not gentle husband lock thee forth.

Dro. And gentle M. I receiv'd no gold :

But I confesse fir, that we were lock'd out.

Adr. Diffl embling Villain, thou speak'st falfe in both.

Ant. Diffl embling barlot, thou art falfe in all,
And art confederate with a damned pack,

To make a loathfome object fearn of me :

But with thefe nails Ile pluck out theſe falſe eyes,
That would behold in me this ſhamefull ſport.

Enter three or ſoure, and offer to binde him:
He ſtrives.

Adr. Oh binde him, binde him, let him not come
neer me.

Pinch. More company, the fiend is ſtrong within him.

Luc. Aye me poor man, how pale and wan he looks.

Ant. What, will you murther me, thou Jaylor thou?

I am thy prifoner, wilt thou ſuffer them to make a reſ-
cue?

Offi. Maſters let him go : he is my prifoner, and you
ſhall not have him.

Pinch. Go binde this man, for he is frantick too.

Adr. What wilt thou do, thou peevish Officer?

Hart thou delight to fee a wretched man

Do outrage and difpleasure to himself?

Offi. He is my prifoner, if I let him go,
The debt he owes will be reequit'd of me.

Adr. I will difcharge thee ere I go from thee,

Bear me forthwith unto his Creditor,

And knowing how the debt grows I will pay it.

Good Maſter Doctor fee him falſe convey'd

Home to my houſe, oh moſt unhappy day.

Ant. Oh moſt unhappy ſtrumpet.

Dro. Maſter, I am here entred in bond for you.

Ant. Out on thee Villain, wherefore doſt thou mad
me?

Dro. Will you be bound for nothing, be good maſter,
cry the devill.

Luc. God help poor ſouls, how idlely do they
talk.

Adr. Go bear him hence, ſifter go you with me :

Say now, whose ſuite is he arreſted at?

Exeunt. Mawet Offic. Adri. Luci. Courtizan.

Off. One Angelo a Goldsmith, do you know him?

Adr. I know the man : what is the ſumme he owes?

Off. Two hundred Ducks.

Adr. Say, how grows it due.

Off. Due for a Chain your husband had of him.

Adr. He did beſpeak a Chain for me, but had it nor.

Cour. When as your husband all in rage to day
Came to my houſe, and took away my Ring,
The Ring I faw upon his finger now,

Straight after did I meet him with a Chain,

Adr. I may be ſo, but I did never fee it.

Come Jaylor, bring me where the Goldsmith is,
I long to know the truth hereof at large.

Enter Antipolis Siracufian with his Rapier drawn,
and Dromio Sirac.

Luc. God for thy mercy, they are fooſe again.

Adr. And come with naked ſwords,

Let's call more help to have them bound again.

Run all out.

Off. Away, they'l kill us.

Exeunt omnes, as faſt as may be, frighted.

S. Ant. I fee theſe Witches are affraide of ſwords.

S. Dro. She that would be your wife, now ran from

you.

Ant. Come to the Centaure, fetch our fluffe from
thence:

I long that we were ſafe and found aboord.

Dro. Faith ſtay here this night, they will ſurely do us no harm: you faw they ſpake us faire, give us gold: me thinks they are ſuch a gentle Nation, that but for the Mountain of mad ſleth that claims marriage of me, I could finde in my heart to ſtay here ſill, and turn Witch.

Ant. I will not ſtay to night for all the Town,
Therefore away, to get our fluffe aboord.
Exeunt.

Actus Quintus. Scæna Prima.

Enter the Merchant and the Goldsmith.

Gold. I am forry Sir that I have hindred you,
But I proreſt he had the Chain of me,
Though moſt diſhoneſtly he did deny it.

Mer. How is the man eſteem'd here in the Citie?

Gold. Of very reverent reputation fir,
Of credit infinite, highly belov'd.

Second to none that lives here in the Citie:
His word might bear my wealth at any time.

Mer. Speak softly, yonder as I think he walks.

Enter Antipolis and Dromio again.

Gold. 'Tis ſo: and that ſelf-chain about his neck,
Which he forſwore (moſt monſtrouſly) to have.
Good fir draw neer to me, Ile ſpeak to him :
Signior Antipolis, I wonder much
That you would put me to this ſhame and trouble,
And not without ſome ſcandall to your ſelf,
With circumſtance and oaths, ſo to deny
This chain, which now you wear ſo openly,
Befide the charge, the ſhame, imprifonment,
You have done wrong to this my honeſt friend,
Who but for ſtaying on our Controſuer,
Had hoſted fail, and put to ſea to day :
This chain you had of me, can you deny it?

Ant. I think I had, I never did deny it.

Mer. Yes that you did fir, and forſwore it too.

Ant. Who heard me to deny it or forſware it?

Mer. Theſe eares of mine thou knowſt did hear thee:
Fie on thee wretch, 'tis pitty that thou liv't
To walk where any honeſt men refort.

Ant. Thou art a Villain to impeach me thus,
Ile prove mine honour, and mine honeſty.

A gainſt thee prefently, if thou dar't ſtand :

Mer. I dare and do defie thee for a villain.

They draw. Enter Adriana, Luciana, Courtezan, and others.

Adr. Hold, hurt him not for Gods ſake, he is mad,
Some get within him, take his ſword away :
Binde Dromio too, and bear them to my houſe.

S. Dro. Run maſter run, for Gods ſake take a houſe,
This is ſome Priorie, in, or we are ſpoy'l.

Exeunt to the Priorie.

Enter

The Comedy of Errors

97

Enter Lady Abbeſſe.

Abb. Be quiet people, wherefore throng you hither ?

Adr. To fetch my poor diftraſted husband hence,
Let us come in, that we may bind him ſaſt,
And bear him home for his recovery.

Gold. I knew he was not in his perfect wits.

Mer. I am forry now that I did draw on him.

Ab. How long hath this poſſedlion held the man ?

Adr. This week he hath been heavy, ſower, ſad,
And much much different from the man he was:
But till this afternoon his paffion

Ne're brake into extremity of rage.

Ab. Hath he not loft much wealth by wrack at Sea,
Buried fome dear friend, hath not eſſe his eye
Stray'd his affection in unlawfull love,
A fin prevailing much in youthful men,
Who give their eyes the liberty of gazing.
Which of theſe forrows is he ſubject to ?

Adr. To none of theſe except it be the laſt,

Namely, fome love that drew him oft from home.

Ab. You ſhould for that have reprehended him.

Ad. Why ſo I did.

Ab. I, but not rough enough.

Ad. As roughly as my modesty would let me.

Ab. Haply in private.

Ad. And in affembles too.

Ab. I, but not enough.

Ad. It was the copie of our conference.

In bed he flept not for my urging it,

At board he fed not for my urging it:

Alone, it was the ſubject of my Theam :

In company I often glanced it :

Still did I tell him, it was vilde and bad.

Ab. And thereof came it that the man was mad.

The venomous courours of a jealous woman,
Poyſons more deadly then a mad dogs tooth.

It feems his ſleeps were hindred by thy railing,

And thereof comes it that his head is light.

Thou ſaſſt his meat was ſaw'd with thy upbraidings,
Unquiet meals makes ill digeſtions,

Thereof the raging fire of feaver bred,

And what's a Feaver but a fit of Madneſſe ?

Thou fay't his ſports were hindred by thy brawling.

Sweet recreation barr'd, what doth enfue

But muddy and dull melancholly,

Kinfman to grim and comfortſleſſe defpair,

And at her heels a huge infectious troop

Of pale diſtemperatures, and foes to life ?

In food, in ſport, and life-prefering ſreft

To be diſuſb'd, would mad or man or beaſt :

The conſequence is then, thy jealous ſits

Have ſcar'd thy Husband from the uſe of wits,

Luc. She never reprehended him but mildly,

When he demean'd himſelf rough, rude, and wildly,

Why hear you thofe rebukes, and anſwer not ?

Ad. She did betray me to my own reproof,

Good people enter and lay hold on him.

Ab. No, not a creature enters in my houſe.

Ad. Then let your ſervants bring my husband forth.

Ab. Neither : he took this place for ſanctuary,

And it ſhall privilege him from your hands,

Till I have brought him to his wits again,

Or loſe my labour in affaying it.

Ad. I will attend my Husband, be his Nurse,

Diet his ſickneſſe, for it is my Office,

And will have no Antourney but my ſelf,

And therefore let me have him home with me.

Ab. Be patient, for I will not let him flirre,

Till I have u'd the approved means I have,

With wholſome Sirrups, Drugs, and holy Prayers

To make of him a formal man again.

It is a branch and parcell of mine oath,

A charitable duty of my order,

Therefore depart, and leave him here with me.

Ad. I will not hence, and leave my Husband here :

And ill it doth befeem your holineſſe

To ſeparate the Husband and the Wife.

Ab. Be quiet and depart, thou ſhalt not have him.

Luc. Complain unto the Duke of this indignity.

Ad. Come go, I will fall proftrate at his ſeet,

And never rife untill my tears and prayers

Have won his Grace to come in perſon hither,

And take perſence my husband from the Abbeſſe.

Exeunt
Enter Merchant and Goldsmith.

Mer. By this I think the Diall points at five :

Anon I'me ſure the Duke himſelf in perſon

Comes this way to the Melancholly vale ;

The place of death and forry execution,

Behind the ditches of the Abbey here.

Gold. Upon what caufe ?

Mer. To fee a reverend Syracuſian Merchant,

Who put unluckily into this Bay

Againſt the Lawes and Statutes of this Town,

Beheaded publickly for his oſſence.

Gold. See where they come, we will behold his death.

Enter Adriana and Lucio.

Luc. Kneel to the Duke before he paffe the Abbey.

Enter the Duke of Ephesus, and the Merchant of Syracuſe bareheaded, with the Headſman, and other Officers.

Duke. Yet once again proclaime it publickly,

If any friend will pay the ſumme for him,

He ſhall not die, to much we tender him.

Enter Adriana.

Adr. Juitſice moſt ſacred Duke againſt the Abbeſſe.

Duke. She is a virtuous and a reverend Lady,

It cannot be that ſhe hath done thee wrong.

Ad. May it pleafe your Grace, Antipholis my husband,

Whom I made Lord of me, and all I had,

(At your impotent Letters) this ill day,

A moſt outragious fit of madneſſe took him,

That deſp'trately he hurried through the ſtreet,

With him his bondman, all as mad as he,

Doing diſpleasure to the Citizens,

By ruffing in their houſes : bearing thence

Rings, Jewels, any thing his rage did like.

Once did I get him bound, and ſent him home,

Whil't to take order for the wrongs I went,

That here and there his fury had committed,

Anon, I wot not, by what ſtrong eſcape

He broke from thole that had the guard of him,

And with his mad attendant and himſelf,

Each one with irefull paffion, with drawn Swords

Met us again, and madly bent on us,

Chac'd us away : till raſing of more aid,

We came again to bind them : then they fled

Into this Abbey, whether we puruſt'd them,

And here the Abbeſſe fluts the gates on us,

And will not suffer us to fetch him out,

Nor ſend him forth that we may bear him thence.

I

Therefore

The Comedy of Errors.

98

Therefore moft gracious Duke with thy command,
Let him be brought forth, and borne hence for help.

*Duke.* Long since thy husband ſerv'd me in my Wards,
And I to thee ingag'd a Prince word,
When thou didst make him maſter of thy bed,
To do him all the grace and good I could.
Go fome of you knock at the Abbey gate,
And bid the Lady Abbefes come to me :
I will determine this before I flir.

*Enter a Moſſenger.*

*Moff.* O Miftris, Miftris, shift and fave your ſelf,
My Maſter and his man are both broke loose,
Beaten the Maids a-row, and bound the Doctor,
Whole beard they have fing'd off with brands of fire,
And ever as it blaz'd, they threw on him
Great pails of putled myre to quench the hair;
My Mr. preaches patience to him, and the while
His man with Sciffors nicks him like a fool:
And fire (unleſs you ſend fome other preſent help)
Between them they will kill the Conjurer.

*Ad.* Peace fool, thy Maſter and his man are here,
And that is falſe thou doſt report to us.

*Moff.* Miftris, upon my life I tell you true,
I have not breath'd almoſt ſince I did ſee it.
My cryes for you, and vows if he can take you,
To ſeorch your face, and to disfigure you:

*Cry within.*

Hark, hark, I hear him Miftris: flie, be gone.

*Duke.* Come, stand by me, fear nothing: guard with Halberds.

*Ad.* Ay me, it is my husband: witneſs you,
That he is borne about inviſible,
Even now we hous'd him in the Abbey here,
And now hee's there, paſt thought of humane reaſon.

*Enter E. Antipholis, and E. Dromio of Ephesus.*

*E. Ant.* Juitſice moſt gracious Duke, oh grant me Juitſice,
Even for the ſervice that long ſince I did theſe,
When I beſtrid thee in the wars, and took
Deep skars to fave thy life; even for the bloud
That then I loft for thee, now grant me Juitſice.

*Mer. Fat.* Unleſs the fear of death doth make me
note, I fee my ſon *Antipholis* and *Dromio*.

*E. Ant.* Juitſice (ſweet Prince) againſt that woman
She whom thou gav't to me to be my wife;
That hath abufed and diſhonoured me,
Even in the ſtrength and height of injury :
Beyond imagination is the wrong

That She this day hath ſhameleſs thrown on me.

*Duke.* Difcover how, and thou ſhalt find me juſt.

*E. Ant.* This day (great Duke) ſhe flaut the doors upon me.

Whilſt ſhe with Harlots ſeaſted in my house.

*Duke.* A grievous fault: ſay woman didſt thou ſo?

*Ad.* No, my good Lord. My ſelf, he, and my Sifter,
To day did dine together: ſo beſall my ſoul,
As this is falſe he burthens me withall.

*Luc. Ne're may I look on day, nor ſleep on night,
But ſhe tells to your Highneſs ſimple truth.*

*Gold.* O perjur'd woman! They are both forſworn,
In this the Mad man juſtly chargeth them.

*E. Ant.* My Liege, I am adviſed what I ſay,
Neither diſturb'd with the effect of Wine,
Nor heady-raſh provok'd with raging ire,
Albeit my wrongs might make one wiser mad.

This woman lock'd me out this day from dinner;
That Goldſmith there, were he not pack'd with her,
Could witneſs it: for he was with me then,
Who parted with me to go fetch a Chain,
Promiſing to bring it to the Porpentine,
Where Balthazar and I did dine together.
Our dinner done, and he not coming thither,
I went to feek him. In the ſtreet I met him,
And in his company that Gentleman,
There did this perjur'd Goldſmith ſwear me down,
That I this day from him receiv'd the Chain,
Which God he knows, I law not. For the which,
He did arreſt me with an Officer.

I did obey, and ſent my Pefant home
For certain Ducks: he with none return'd.
Then fairly I beſpoke the Officer

To go in perſon with me to my houſe.

By'th'way, we met my wife, her ſifter and a rabble more
Of vilde Confederates: Along with them
They brought one Pinch, a hungry lean-fac'd Villain ;
A meer Anatomy, a Mountebank,

A thred-bare Jugler, and a Fortune-teller,
A needy-hollow-cy'd-lharp-looking-wretch ;

A living dead man. This pernicious ſlave,

Forſtooth took on him as a Conjurer:
And gazing in mine eyes, feeling my pulſe,
And with no-face (as t'were) out-facing me,
Cryes out, I was poffeſt. Then altogether
They fell upon me, bound me, bore me thence,
And in a dark and dankiſh vault at home
There left me and my man, both bound together,
Till gnawing with my teeth my bonds aſunder,
I gain'd my freedom; and immediately
Ran hither to your Grace, whom I beſeech
To give me ample ſatisfaction

For theſe deep ſhames, and great indignities,

*Gold.* My Lord, in truth, thus far I witneſs with him:
That he din'd not at home, but was lock'd out.

*Duke.* But had he ſuch a Chain of thee, or no ?

*Gold.* He had my Lord, and when he ran in here,
Theſe people ſaw the Chain about his neck.

*Mer.* Befides, I will be ſworn theſe ears of mine,
Heard you confes you had the Chain of him,
After you firſt forſwore it on the Mart,
And thereupon I drew my ſword on you :
And then you ſled into this Abbey here,
From whence I think you are come by miracle.

*E. Ant.* I never came within theſe Abbey walls,
Nor ever didſt thou draw thy ſword on me:
I never saw the Chain, ſo help me heaven :
And this is falſe you burthen me withall;

*Duke.* Why what an intricate Impeach is this?
I think you all have drunk of *Cirees* Cup:
If here you hous'd him, here he would have been.
If he were mad he would not plead ſo coldly :
You ſay he din'd at home, the Goldſmith here
Denies that ſaying. Sirra, what ſay you ?

*E. Drá.* Sir he din'd with her there, at the Porpentine.

*Cur.* He did, and froumny finger ſnatch't that Ring.

*E. Ant.* 'Tis true (my Liege) this Ring I had of her.

*Duke.* Saw't thou him enter at the Abbey here?

*Cur.* As ſure (my Liege) as I do ſee your Grace.

*Duke.* Why this is ſtrange: Goe call the Abbefee hither.

I think you are all mated, or ſtark mad.

Exit.

The Comedy of Errors.

99

Enter one to the Abbeſſe.

Fa. Moſt mighty Duke, vouchſaſe me ſpeake a word:
Haply I fee a friend will fave my life,
And pay the ſumme that may deliver me.

Duke. Speak freely *Syracuseu* what thou wilt.
Fath. Is not your name fir call'd *Antipholis*?

And is not that your bond-man *Dromio*?

E. Dro. Within this hour I was his bondman fir,
But he I thank him gnaw'd in two my cords,
Now am I *Dromio*, and his man unbound.

Fath. I am ſure both of you remember me.

Dro. Our ſelves we doe remember ſat by you:

For lately we were bound as you are now.

You are not *Pinches* Patient, are you Sir ?

Father. Why look you ſtrange on me ? you know me
well.

E. Ant. I never faw you in my life till now.

Fa. Oh ! grief hath chang'd me ſince you faw me laſt,
And careful hours with times deformed hand,
Have written ſtrange deſ features in my ſace :

But tell me yet, doſt thou not know my voyce ?

Ant. Neither.

Fat. *Dromio*, nor thou.

Dro. No truſt me fir, nor I.

Fat. I am ſure thou doſt ?

E. *Dromio*. I fir, but I am ſure I doe not, and whatfo-
ever a man denies, you are now bound to believe him.

Fat. Not know my voyce! oh times extremity,
Haſt thou ſo crack'd and ſplitted my poor tongue

In feven ſhort years, that here my only Son
Knowes not my feeble Key of untun'd cares ?

Though now this grained face of mine be hid
In ſwap-confuming Winter drizzled ſnow,
And all the Conduits of my blood froze up :

Yet hath my night of life ſome memory :

My waſting lamps ſome fading glimmer left ;

My dull deaf cares a little uſe to hear :

All theſe old witneſſes, I cannot erre.
Tell me, thou art my Son *Antipholis*.

Ant. I never faw my Father in my life.

Fa. But feven years ſince, in *Syracuse* Boy,
Thou know'd it we part'd, but perhaps my Son,
Thou ſham'd it to acknowledge me in mifery.

Ant. The Duke, and all that know me in the City,
Can witneſſe with me that it is not ſo.

I ne're faw *Syracuse* in my life.

Duke. I tell thee *Syracusean*, twenty years
Have I been Patron to *Antipholis*,
During which time he ne're faw *Syracuse*:
I fee thy age and dangers make thee dote.

Enter the Abbeſſe with Antipholis *Syracusean*,
and *Dromio* *Sirac*.

Abbeſſe. Moſt mighty Duke, behold a man much
wrong'd.

All gather to fee them.

Adr. I fee two husbands, or mine eyes deceive me.

Duke. One of theſe men is *genius* to the other :

And fo of theſe which is the naturall man,
And which the ſpirit ? who deciphers them?

S. *Dromio*. I Sir am *Dromio*, command him away.

E. *Dro*. I Sir am *Dromio*, pray let me flay.

S. Ant. *Egeon* art thou not ? or else his ghast.

S. *Drom*. Oh my old Maſter, who hath bound him
here ?

Abb. Who ever bound him, I will loose his bonds,
And gain a husband by his liberty :

Speak old *Egeon*, if thou beſt the same *Egeon*,

That had'ſt a Wife once call'd *Emilia*,
That bore thee at a burthen two fair Sons ?

Oh if thou beſt the fame *Egeon*, ſpeak :

And ſpeak unto the fame *Emilia*.

Duke. Why here begins this Morning ſtory right :

Theſe two *Antipholis*, theſe two two ſo like,

And thoſe two *Dromio's*, one in ſemblance :

Befides her urging of her wrack at Sea,

Theſe are the Parents to theſe children,

Which accidentally are met together.

Fat. If I dream not, thou art *Emilia*,
If thou art ſhe, tell me, where is that Son
That floated with thee on the fatall rafte.

Abb. By men of *Epidamium*, he, and I,

And the twin *Dromio*, all were taken up :

But by and by, rude Fishermen of *Corinth*

By force took *Dromio* and my Son from them,

And me they left with thoſe of *Epidamium*.

What then became of them I cannot tell,

I, to this fortune that you fee me in.

Duke. *Antipholis* thou cam'd from *Corinth* firſt.

S. Ant. No fir, not I, I came from *Syracuse*.

Duke. Stay, ſtand apart, I know not which is which,

E. Ant. I came from *Corinth* my moſt gracious Lord.

E. Dro. And I with him.

E. Ant. Brought to this Town by that moſt famous

Warriour,

Duke *Menaphon*. your moſt renowned Uncle.

Adr. Which of you two did dine with me to day?

S. Ant. I, gentle Miftris.

Adr. And are not you my husband ?

E. Ant. No, I ſay nay to that.

S. Ant. And ſo doe I, yet did ſhe call me ſo :

And this fair Gentlewoman here

Did call me Brother. What I told you then,

I hope I ſhall have leifure to make good,

If this be not a dream I fee and hear.

Goldsmith. That is the Chain Sir, which you had of
me.

S. Ant. I think it be Sir, I deny it not.

E. Ant. And you fir for this Chain arreſted me.

Gold. I think I did Sir, I deny it not.

Adr. I ſent you money Sir to be your bayle

By *Dromio*, but I think he brought it not.

E. Dro. No, none by me.

S. Ant. This purſe of Ducks I receiv'd from you,
And *Dromio* my man did bring them me :

I fee we till did meet each others man,

And I was tane for him, and he for me,

And thereupon theſe errors are aroſe.

E. Ant. Theſe Ducks pawn I for my Father here.

Duk. It ſhall not need, thy Father hath his life.

Cur. Sir, I muſt have that Diamond from you.

E. Ant. There take it, and much thanks for my good
cheer.

Abb. Renowned Duke, vonchſaſe to take the pains
To go with us into the Abbey here,
And hear at large diſcourſed all our fortunes,

And all that are ſſſsembled in this place :

That by this ſimpathized one dayes error,

Have ſuffered wrong. Go, keep us company.

I 2

And

101

# Much adoe about Nothing.

Actus Primus. Scena Prima.

Enter Leonato Governer of Messina, Innogen his
wife, Hero his Daughter, and Beatrice his
Necce, with a Meſſenger.

Leonato.

Learn in this Letter, that Don Peter of Aragon comes this night to Messina.

Mef. He is very near by this: he was not three Leagues off when I left him.

Leon. How many Gentlemen have you left in this action?

Mef. But few of any fort, and none of name.

Leon. A victory is twice it self, when the atchiever brings home full numbers: I find here that Don Pær hath beftowed much honour on a young Florentine, called Claudio.

Mef. Much deferv'd on his part, and equally remem
bred by Don Pedro, he hath born himſelf beyond the
promife of his age, doing in the figure of a Lamb the
feats of a Lion, he hath indeed bettered expectation,
then you muſt expect of me to tell you how.

Leo. He hath an Uncle here in Messina will be very much glad of it.

Mef. I have already delivered him Letters, and there appears much joy in him, even so much, that joy could not ſhow it ſelf mod ſt enough, without a badge of bitterneſſe.

Leo. Did he break out into teares ?

Mef. In great meaſure.

Leo. A kind overflow of kindneſſe : there are no ſaces truer, then thate that are ſo wath'd, how much better is it to weep at joy, then to joy at weeping ?

Beat. I pray you, is Signior Mountanto return'd from the Warrs, or no ?

Mef. I know none of that name, Lady, there was none
much in the Army of any fort.

Leo. What is he that you ask for Neece ?

Hero. My Couſin means Signior Benedick of Padua.

Mef. O he's return'd, and as pleafant as ever he was.

Beat. He fet up his Bills here in Messina, and chal-
leng'd Cupid at the Flight: and my Uncles fool reading
the Challenge, ſubſcrib'd for Cupid, and chaleng'd him
at the Burbolt. I pray you, how many hath he kill'd and
eaten in theſe Warrs? But how many hath he kill'd ?
for indeed, I promis'd to eat all of his killing.

Leon. 'Faith Neece, you take Signior Benedick too much, but he'll meet with you, I doubt it nor.

Mef. He hath done good ſervice Lady, in that ſ wars.

Beat. You had muſt viſtuall, and he hath help to eat it: he's a very valiant Trencher-man, he hath an excellent ſtomach.

Mef. And a good Soldier too Lady.

Beat. And a good Soldier to a Lady. But what is he to a Lord?

Mef. A Lord to a Lord, a Man to a Man, ſtuff with all honourable virtues.

Beat. It is ſo indeed, he is no leſſe then a ſluſt man : but for the ſtuffing well, we are all mortall.

Leon. You muſt not (fir) miſtake my Neece, there is a kind of merry War betwixt Signior Benedick and her : they never meet, but there is a skirmish of wit between them.

Beat. Alafs, he gets nothing by that. In our laſt conflict, four of his five wits went halting off, and now is the whole man govern'd with one : ſo that if he have wit enough to keep himſelf warm, let him bear it for a difference between himſelf and his horſe. For it is all the wealth that he hath left, to be known a reaſonable creaſure. Who is his Companion now ? He hath every moneth a new ſworn Brother.

Mef. Is't poffible ?

Beat. Very easily poffible: he wears his faith but as the fashion of his hat, it ever changes with the next block.

Mef. I fee (Lady) the Gentleman is not in your books.

Beat. No, and he were, I would burn my ſtudy. But I pray you who is his Companion ? Is there no young ſquarer now, that will make a voyage with him to the Devil ?

Mef. He is moſt in the company of the right noble Claudio.

Beat. O Lord, he willhang upon him like a difeafe : he is ſooner caught then the Pěſitence, and the taker runs preſently mad. God help the noble Claudio, if he have caught the Benedick, it will coſt him a thouſand pound ere it be cur'd.

Mef. I willhold friends with you Lady.

Beat. Doe good friend.

Leo. You'll ne're run mad Neece.

Beat. No, not till a hot January.

Mef. Don Pedro is approach'd.

Enter Don Pedro, Claudio, Benedick, Baltazar,
and John the Bassard.

Pedro. Good Signior Leonato, you are come to meet your trouble: the fashion of the world is to avoid coſt, and you encounter it.

Leon. Never came trouble to my houſe in the likenefs of your Grace: for, trouble being gone, comfort ſhould remain: but when you depart from me, forrow abides, and happineſſe takes his leave.

I 3

Pedro.

102

Much ado about Nothing.

*Pedro.* You embrace your charge more willingly : I think this is your daughter.

Leo, Her Mother hath many times told me so.

Ben. Were you in doubt, that you askt her ?

Leo. Signior Benedick, no, for then were you a Child.

Pedro. You have it full Benedick, we may guffe by this, what you are, being a man, truly the Lady fathers her felf: be happy, Lady, for you are like an honourable father.

Ben. If Signior Leonato be her Father, she would not have his head on her shoulders for all Messina, as like him as she is.

Beat. I wonder that you will ſtill be talking, Signior Benedick, no body marks you.

Ben. What my dear Lady Difdain ! are you yet living ?

Beat. Is it possible Difdain should die, while she hath ſuch meet food to feed it, as Signior Benedick ? Courteſe it ſelf must convert to Difdain, if you come in her preference.

Bene. Then is Courteſe a turn-coat, but it is certain I am loved of all Ladies, only you excepted : and I would I could find in my heart that I had not an hard heart, for truly I love none.

Beat. A dear happineſe to women, they would eſſe have been troubled with a pernicious Sutor, I thank God and my cold blood, I am of your humour for that, I had rather hear my Dog bark at a Crow, then a man ſwear he loves me.

Ben. God keep your Ladiſhip full in that mind, ſo ſome Gentleman or other ſhall ſcape a Predeſtinate (cracht face).

Beat. Scratching could not make it worſe, and 'twere ſuch a face as yours were.

Ben. Well you are a rare Parrat-teacher.

Beat. A Bird of my tongue, is better then a Beaſt of yours.

Ben. I would my horſe had the ſpeed of your tongue, and ſo good a continuer : but keep your way a God's name, I have done.

Beat. You always end with a Jade's trick, I know you of old.

Pedro. This is the ſumme of all : Leonato, Signior Claudio, and Signior Benedick ; my dear friend Leonato hath invited you all, I tell you we ſhall ſtay here, at the leaſt a moneth, and he heartily prays ſome occasion may detain us ſo longer : I dare ſwear he is no hypocrite, but prays from his heart.

Leon. If you ſwear, my Lord, you ſhall not be forſworn, let me bid you welcome, my Lord, being reconciled to the Prince your Brother ; I owe you all duty.

John. I thank you, I am not of many words, but I thank you.

Leon. Please it your Grace lead on ?

Pedro. Your hand Leonato, we will go together.

Exeunt. Manet Benedick and Claudio.

Claud. Benedick, didſt thou note the daughter of Signior Leonato ?

Ben. I noted her not, but I look'd on her.

Claud. Is she not a modeſt young Lady ?

Ben. Doe you queſtion me as an honeſt man ſhould do, for my ſimple true judgement ? or would you have me ſpeak after my cuſtome, as being a proſeſed tyrant to their ſex ?

Claud. No, I prethee ſpeak in ſober judgement.

Ben. Why I faith me thinks ſhe's too low for an high praife, too brown for a fair praife, and too little for a great praife, onely this commendation I can aſſord her, that were ſhe other then ſhe is, ſhe were unhandiome, and being no other but as ſhe is, I doe not like her.

Claud. Thou think'st I am in ſport, I pray thee tell me truly how thou lik'st her.

Ben. Would you buy her, that you enquire after her ?

Claud. Can the world buy ſuch a Jewell ?

Ben. Yea, and a cafe to put it into, but ſpeak you this with a ſad brow ? Or doe you play the flouting Jack, to tell us Cupid is a good Hare-finder, and Vulcan a rare Carpenter : Come, in what Key ſhall a man take you to go in the Song.

Claud. In mine eye, ſhe is the sweeteſt Lady that ever I lookt on.

Ben. I can ſee yet without Spectacles, and I ſeeno ſuch matter : there's her Cofin, and ſhe were not poffeſt with a ſury, exceeds her as much in beauty, as the ſuſt of May doth the laſt of December : but I hope you have no intent to turn husband 'have you ?

Claud. I would ſcarce thrust my ſelf, though I had ſworn the contrary, if Hero would be my wife.

Ben. Is't come to this ? in faith hath not the world one man, but he will wear his cap with ſuſpicion ? ſhall I never ſee a Batchellor of threeſcore again ? goe to I faith, and thou wilt needs thrust ſ thy neck into a yoke, wear the print of it, and ſigh away Sundays : look, Don Pedro is ſeturned to ſeek you.

Enter Don Pedro, John the Bastard.

Pedro. What ſecret hath held you here, that you followed not to Leonato ?

Bened. I would your Grace would conſtrain me to tell.

Pedro. I charge thee on thy allegiance.

Ben. You hear, Count Claudio, I can be ſecret as a dumb man, I would have you think ſo (but on my allegiance, mark you this, on my allegiance) he is in love, with whom ? now that is your Graces part : mark how ſhort his anſwer is, with Hero, Leonato's ſhort Daughter.

Claud. If this were ſo, ſo were it uttered.

Ben. Like the old Tale, my Lord, it is not ſo, nor 'twas not ſo : but indeed, God forbid it should be ſo.

Claud. If my paffion change not ſhortly, God forbid it should be otherwife.

Pedro. Amen, if you love her, for the Lady is very well worthy.

Claud. You ſpeak this to fetch me in, my Lord.

Pedro. By my troth I ſpeak my thought.

Claud. And in faith, my Lord, I ſpoke mine.

Ben. And by my two faiths and troths, my Lord, I ſpeak mine.

Claud. That I love her, I feel.

Pedro. That ſhe is worthy, I know.

Ben. That I neither ſeel how ſhe ſhould be loved, nor know how ſhe ſhould be worthy, is the opinion that fire cannot melt out of me, I will die in it at the ſake.

Pedro. Thou waſt ever an obſtinate Heretick in the deſpight of beauty.

Claud. And never could maintain his part, but in the force of his will.

Ben

Much adoe about Nothing.

103

Bene. That a woman conceived me, I thank her : that
she brought me up, I likewise give her moſt humble
thanks : but that I will have a rechate winded, in my
forehead, or hang my bugie in an invifible baldrick, all
women ſhall pardon me : becauſe I will not doe them the
wrong to miſtraut any, I will doe my ſelf the right to
tuſt none : and the fine is, (for the which I may goe the
finer) I will live a Batchelor.

Pedro. I ſhall fee thee ere I die, look pale with love.

Bene. With anger, with ſickneſſe, or with hunger,
my Lord, not with love : prove that ever I looke more
bloud with love, then I will get again with drinking,
pick out mine eyes with a Ballet-makers penn, and
hang me up at the door of a brothel-house for the ſigne
of blind Cupid.

Pedro. Well, if ever thou doſt fall from this faith,
thou wilt prove a notable argument.

Bene. If I do, hang me in a bottle like a Cat, and ſhoot
at me, and he that hit's me, let him be clapt on the ſhou-
per, and call'd Adam.

Pedro. Well, as the time ſhall try : In time the savage
Bull doth bear the yoak.

Bene. The savage bull may, but if ever the ſensible
Benedick bear it, pluck off the bulls horns, and fet them
in my forehead, and let me be vildely painted, and in
fuch great Letters as they write, Here is good horſe to
hire : let them ſignify under my ſigne, Here you may fee
Benedick the married man.

Clan. If this ſhould ever happen, thou wouldſt be
horn mad.

Pedro. Nay, if Cupid have not ſpent all his Quiver in
Venice, thou wilt quake for this ſhortly.

Bene. I look for an earth quake too then.

Pedro. Well, you will temporize with the time,
in the mean time, good Signior Benedick, repair to Leo-
nato's, commend me to him, and tell him I will not fail
him at ſupper, for indeed he hath made great prepara-
tion.

Bene. I have almost matter enough in me for such an
Embaffage, and so I commit you.

Clan. To the tuition of God. From my houſe, if I
had it.

Pedro. The fixth of July. Your loving friend, Benedick.

Bene. Nay mock not, mock not; the body of your
difſcourfe is fometime guarded with fragments, and the
guards are but flightly baſted on neither : e're you flout
old ends any further, examine your conſcience, and ſo I
leave you. Exit.

Clau. My Liege, your Highneſs now may do me
good.

Pedro. My love is thine to teach, teach it how but
And thou ſhalt fee how apt it is to learn

Any hard Leſſon, that may do thee good.

Clau. Hath Leonato any ſon my Lord?

Pedro. No child but Here, ſhe's his only heir.
Doſt thou affect her, Claudio?

Clau. O my Lord,

When you went onward on this ended action,
I look'd upon her with a ſouldiers eye,

That lik'd, but had a rougher task in hand,

Than to drive liking to the name of love :

But now I am return'd, and that war-thoughts

Have left their places vacant : in their rooms

Come thronged ſoft and delicate defires,

All prompting me how fair young Hero is,
Saying I lik'd her ere I went to wars.

Pedro. Thou wilt be like a lover prefently,

And tire the hearer with a book of words :

If thou doſt love fair Hero, cheriſh it,

And I will break with her : waſt not to this end;

That thou beganſt to twiſt so fine a ſtory ?

Clau. How sweetly do you minifter to love,

That know lovesgrief by his complexion !

But left my liking might too ſodain seem,

I would have falſ'd it with a longer treatife.

Pedro. What need the bridge much broader then the
Taireſt grant in the necefſity : (floud?

Look what will ſerve, is fit : 'tis once, thou loveſt,

And I will fit thee with the remedy,

I know we ſhall have revelling to night,

I will affume thy part in ſome diſguſe,

And tell fair Hero I am Claudio,

And in her boſome I'le unclap my heart,

And take her hearing prifoner with the force

And ſtrong encounter of my amorous tale :

Then after, to her father will I break,

And the conclusion is, ſhe ſhall be thine,

In praſtife let us put it prefently.

Exeunt.

Enter Leonato and an old man, brother to Leonato.

Leo. How now brother, where is my cofen your ſon :
hath he provided this mufick ?

Old. He is very bufſe about it, but brother, I can tell
you news that you yet dream'd not of :

Old. Are they good ?

Old. As the event ſtamps them, but they have a good
cover : they ſhew well outward : the Prince and Count
Claudio walking in a thick pleached alley in my orchard,
were thus over-heard by a man of mine : the Prince dif-
covered to Claudio that he loved my neece your daugh-
ter, and meant to acknowledge it this night in a dance,
and he found her accordant, he meant to take the
prefent time by the top, and inſantly breake with you
of it.

Old. Hath the fellow any wit, that told you this ?

Old. A good ſharp fellow, I will ſend for him, and
queſtion him your ſelf.

Leo. No, no: we will hold it as a dream, till it appear
it ſelf: but I will acquaint my daughter with all, that the
may be the better prepared for anſwer, if peradventure
this be true : go you and tell her of it: cofins, you know
what you have to do, O I cry you mercy friend, go you
with me and I will uſe your skill, good cofin have a care
this bufſe time.

Exeunt.

Enter Sir John the Baſtard, and Conrade his companion.

Con. What the good year my Lord, why are you thus
out of meaſure ſad ?

Iohn. There is no meaſure in the occafion that breeds,
therefore the ſadneſs is without limit.

Con. You should hear reaſon.

Iohn. And when I have heard it, what bleſſing bring-
eth it?

Con. If not a preſent remedy, yet a patient ſufferance,

Iohn. I, wonder that thou (being, as thou faſt thou art,
born under Saturn ) goſt about to apply a mortall me-
decine to a mortifying miſchief : I cannot hide what I
am : I muſt be ſad, when I have cauſe, and ſmile at no
mans jeſts ; eat when I have ſtomach, and wait for no
mans leifure : ſleep when I am drowſe, and tend on no
mans buſineſs ; laugh when I am merry, and claw no man
in his humour.

Con. Yea, but you muſt not make the full flow of this
till you may doe it without controllment, you have of
late

Much adoe about nothing.

104

late ftood out againft your brother, and he hath, tane
you newly into his grace, where it is impoffible you
should take root, but by the fair weather that you make
your felf, it is needfull that you frame the feafon for your
own harveft.

John. I had rather be a canker in a hedge, then a rofe
in his grace, and it better fits my cloud to be difdain'd of
all, then to fashion a carriage to rob love from any: in this
( though I cannot be faid to be a flattering honeſt man.)
it muſſ not be denied but I am a plain dealing villain, I
am truſted with a muſſell, and infranchiſed with a clog,
therefore I have decreed, not to ſing in my cage: if I had
my mouth, I would bite: if I had my liberty, I would do
my likings: in the mean time, let me be that I am, and
ſeek not to alter me.

Conr. Can you make no uſe of your discontent?

John. I will make all uſe of it, for I uſe it only.
Who comes here ? what news Borachio.

Enter Borachio.

Boru. I came yonder from a great ſupper, the Prince
your brother is royally entertained by Leonato, and I can
give you intelligence of an intended marriage.

John. Will it ſerve for any Modell to build miſchſehe
on? What is he for a foole that betroth's himself to un-
unquietneſs?

Bor. Marry it is your brothers right hand.

John. Who, the moſt exquifite Claudio?

Bor. Even he.

John. A proper Squier, and who, and who, which way
looks he?

Bor. Marry on Hero, the daughter and Heir of Leo-
nato.

John. A very forward March-chick, how come you
to this?

Bor. Being entertain'd for a perfumer, as I was finno-
king a muſty room, comes me the Prince and Claudio,
hand in hand in ſad conference: I whipt behind the Ar-
ras, and there heard it agreed upon, that the Prince should
wooe Hero for himself, and having obtain'd her, give
her to Count Claudio.

John. Come, come, let us thither, this may prove ſoone
to my diſpleasure, that young ſtart-up hath all the glory
of my overthrow: if I can croſſe him any way, I bleſſe
my ſelf every way; you are both ſure, and will affiſt
me?

Conr. To the death my Lord.

John. Let us to the great ſupper, their cheer is the
greater that I subſued, would the Cook were of my mind:
thall we go prove what's to be done ?

Bor. We'll wait upon your Lordship.

Exeunt.

Altus Secundus.

Enter Leonato, his brother, his wife, Hero his daughter,
and Beatrice his neece, and kinsman.

Leona. Was not Count John here at ſupper ?

Brot. I saw him not.

Beat. How tartly that Gentleman looks, I never can
fee him, but I am heart-burn'd an hour after.

Hero. He is of a melancholly diſpoſition.

Beat. He were an excellent man that were made juſt in
the mid-way between him and Benedicke, the one is too
like an image and faies nothin g, and the other too like
my Ladies elfeſt fon, evermore tatling.

Leon. Then half Signior Benedick's ſoungue in Count
Johns mouth, and halfe Count Johns melancholly in Sig-
nior Benedick's face------,

Beat. With a good legge and a good foot unkle, and
money enough in his purſe, ſuch a man would win any
woman in the world, if he could get her good will.

Leon. By my troth Neece, thou wilt never get thee a
husband, if thou be so ſhrewd of thy tongue.

Brot. Inſaith he's too curſt.

Beat. Too curſt is more then curſt, I shall leſſen God's
ſending that way: for it is faſd, God ſends a curſt Cow
ſhort horns, but to a Cow too curſt he ſends none.

Leon. So, by being too curſt, God will ſend no
horns.

Beat. Juſt, if he ſend me no husband, for the which
bleſſing, I am at him upon my knees every morning and
evening: Lord, I could not endure a husband with a beard
on his face, I had rather lie in the woollen.

Leona. You may light upon a husband that hath no
beard.

Beat. What ſhould I doe with him ? drefſe him in
my apparell, and make him my waiting-gentlewoman ? he
that hath a beard, is more then a youth: and he that hath
no beard is leſſe then a man: and he that is more then a
youth, is not for me: and he that is leſſ then a man, I am
not for him: therefore I will even take ſix pence in tar-
neſt of the Bearherd and lead his Apes into hell.

Leon. Well then, go you into hell.

Beat. No, but to the gate, and there will the Devil
meet me like an old Cuckold with horns on his head,
and ſay, get you to heaven Beatrice, get you to heaven,
here's no place for you maids, ſo deliver I up my Apes,
and away to Saint Peter : for the heavens, he ſthews me
where the Batchellers ſit, and there live we as merry as
the day is long.

Brot. Well neece, I truſt you will be rul'd by your fa-
ther.

Beat. Yes faith, it is my cofens duty to make curſie,
and ſay, as it pleafe you: but yet for all that cofin, let
him be a handſome fellow, or eſſe make another curſie,
and ſay, father, as it pleafes me.

Leon. Well neece, I hope to ſee you one day ſitted with
a husband.

Beat. Not till God make men of ſome other metall
then earth, would it not grieve a woman to be overma-
ſtred with a piece of valiant duſt ? to make account of
her life to a clod of cold wayward marle ? no uncle, Ile
none: Adams ſons are brethren, and truly I hold it a fin
to match in my kinſtred.

Leon. Daughter, remember what I told you, if the
Prince do ſolicit you in that kind, you know your an-
fwer.

Beat. The fault will be in the muſick, coſin, if you
be not woo'd in good time: if the Prince be too impor-
tant, tell him there is meaſure in every thing, and ſo dance
out the anſwer, for hear me Hero, wooing, wedding, and
repenting, is as a Scotch jigge a meaſure, and a cinque-
pace: the firſt ſuit is hot and haſty like a Scotch jigge
(and full as fantasſicall) the wedding mannerly modest,
(as a meaſure) full of ſtate and anchentry, and then comes
repentance, and with his bad legs falls into the cinque-
pace faſter and faſter, till he finks into his grave.

Leona.

Much adoe about nothing.

105

Leon. Cofin you apprehend pafling firefully.

Beatrice. I have a good eye uncle, I can fee a Church
by day light.

Leon. The revelers are entring brother, make good
room.

Enter Prince, Pedro, Claudio, Benedicke, and Bal-
thazar, or dumb John, Maskers with a drum.

Pedro. Lady, will you walke about with your friend ?

Hero. So you walk softly, and look fwcely, and fay
nothing, I am yours for the walke, and especially when I
walke away.

Pedro. With me in your company.

Here. I may fay fo when I pleafe.

Pedro. And when pleafe you to fay, fo ?

Hero. When I like your favour, for God defend the
Lute should be like the cafe.

Pedro. My viſor is Philemans roofe, within the houſe
is love.

Hero. Why then your viſor ſhould be thateſt.

Pedro. Speak low if you ſpeak Love.

Bene. Well, I would you did like me.

Mask. So would not I for your own ſake, for I have
many ill qualities.

Bene. Which is one ?

Mask. I fay my prayers aloud.

Bene. I love you the better, the hearers may cry. Amen.

Mas. God match me with a good dancer.

Bath. Amen.

Mas. And God keep him out of my fight when the
dance is done: anſwer Clerk.

Bath. No more words, the Clerk is anſwered.

Urſula. I know you well enough, you are Signior An-
thomio.

Anth. At a word, I am not.

Urſula. I know you by the wagling of your head.

Anth. To tell you true, I counterfeit him.

Urſua. You could never doe him ſo ill, unless you
were the very man : here's his dry hand up and down,
you are he, you are he.

Anth. At a word, I am not.

Urſula. Come, come, doe you think I doe not know
you by your excellent wit? can vertue hide it ſelfe ? goe
to, mumme, you are he, graces will appear, and there's
an end.

Beat. Will you not tell me who told you fo ?

Bene. No, you shall pardon me.

Beat. Nor will you tell me who you are ?

Bene. Not now.

Beat. That I was diſdainfull, and that I had my good
wit out of the hundred merry tales: well, this was Signior
Benedicke that faid fo.

Bene. What's he ?

Beat. I am ſure you know him well enough.

Bene. Not I, believe me.

Beat. Did he never make you laugh ?

Bene. I pray you what is he ?

Beat. Why is the Princes jeſter, a very dull ſoole,
onely his gift is, in devifing impoffible ſlanders, none
but Libertines delight in him, and the commendation is
not in his wit, but in his villany, for he both pleafeth
men and angers them, and then they laugh at him, and
beat him; I am ſure he is in the Fleet, I would he had
boarded me.

Bene. When I know the Gentleman, I'll tell him what
you ſay.

Beat. Doe, doe, hee'l but break a comparifon or two
on me, which peradventur (not market), or not laugh'd
at:) (trikes him into melancholly, and then there's a Par-
tridge wing ſaved, for the ſoole will eat no ſupper that
night. We muſt follow the Leaders.

Bene. In every good thing.

Bea. Nay, if they lead to any ill, I will leave them
at the next turning.

Musick for the dance.

John. Sure my brother is amorous on Hero, and hath
withdrawn her father to break with him about it: the
Ladies follow her, and but one viſor remains.

Bora. And that is Claudio, I know him by his bea-
ring.

John. Are not you Signior Benedicke?

Clau. You know me well, I am he.

John. Signior, you are very near my brother in his
love, he is enamor'd on Hero; I pray you diffwade him
from her, ſhe is no equall for his birth: you may do the
part of an honest man in it:

Clau. How know you he loves her ?

John. I heard him ſwear his affection.

Bora. So did I too, and he ſwere he would marry her
to night.

John. Come, let us to the banquet. Exit. manet. Clau.

Clau. Thus anſwer I in name of Benedicke,

But hear this ill news with the ears of Claudio:

Tis certain fo, the Prince woo's for himself:

Friendſhip is conſtant in all other things,

Save in the Office and affairs of love :

Therefore all hearts in love uſe their own tongues:

Let every eye negotiate for it ſelfe,

And truſt no Agent: for beauty is a witch,

Againſt whole charmes, faith melteth into bloud :

This is an accident of hourly proofe,

Which I miſtruſted not. Farewell therefore Here.

Enter Benedicke.

Bene. Count Claudio.

Clau. Yea the fame.

Bene. Come, will you go with me ?

Clau. Whither ?

Bene. Even to the next Willow, about your own bu-
ſineſſe, Count. What fashion will you were the Garland
off? About your neck, like an Uſurphen chain? Or under
your armes, like a Licutenants ſcarſe? You muſt wear it
one way, for the Prince hath got your Hero.

Clau. I wiſh him joy of her.

Bene. Why that's ſpoken like an honest Drovler, ſo
they fell Bullocks: but did you think the Prince would
have ſerved you thus?

Clau. I ptaу you leave me.

Bene. Ho no! you (trike like the blind-man, 'twas the
boy that ſtole your meat, and you'll beat the poſt.

Clau. If it will not be, I'll leave you.

Exit.

Bene. Alas poor hurt ſoul, now will he creep into
fedges: but that my Lady Beatrice should know me, and
not know me: the Princes fool! Ha? it may be I goe
under that title, because I am merry: yet but so I am
apt to do my ſelf wrong: I am not so reputed, it is the
bafe (though bitter) diſposition of Beatrice, that puts
the word into her perſon; and so gives me out: well, Ile
be revenged as I may.

Enter the Prince.

Pedro. Now Signior, where's the Court, did you fee
him?

Ben.

Much adoe about Nothing.

106

Bene. Troth my Lord, I have played the part of Lady
Fame, I found him here as melancholly as a Lodge in a
Warren, I told him, and I think, told him true, that your
grace had got the will of this young Lady, and I offered
him my company to a willow tree, either to make him a
garland, as being forfaken, or to bind him a rod, as be-
ing worthy to be whipt.

Pedro. To be whipt, what's his fault ?

Bene. The flat transgression of a School-boy, who
being over-joyed with finding a birds neft, fhews it his
companion, and he feals it.

Pedro. Wilt thou make a truſt, a transgression ? the
transgression is in the ſtealer.

Bene. Yet it had not been amifs the rod had been
made, and the garland too, for the garland he might have
worn himſelf, and the rod he might have beſtowed on
you, who (as I take it) have ſtoſn his birds neſt.

Pedro. I will but teach them to ſing, and reſtore them
to the owner.

Bene. If their ſinging anſwer your ſaying, by my faith
you ſay honefly.

Pedro. The Lady *Beatrice* hath a quarrell to you, the
Gentleman that danc'd with her, told her ſhe is much
wrong'd by you.

Bene. O ſhe miſus'd me paſt the indurance of a block:
an oake but with one green leaf on it, would have an-
fawered her; my very viſor began to aſſume life, and ſoild
with her: ſhe told me, not thinking I had been my
ſelf, that I was the Princes Jefter, and that I was duſler
then a great thaw, hudling jeft upon jeft; with ſuch im-
poſſible conveiance upon me, that I ſtood like a man at a
mark, with a whole army ſhooting at me: ſhe ſpeaks
poyniards, and every word ſtabs me: if her breath were
as terrible as terminations, there were no living near
her, ſhe would inſect to the north ſtar: I would not
marry her, though ſhe were indowed with all that *Adam*
had left him before he tranſgreſt, ſhe would have made
*Hercules* have turnd ſpit, yea, and have cleft his club to
make the fire too: come, talk not of her, you ſhall find
her in the infernal Ate in good appaill. I would to God
fome ſcholler would conjure her, for certainly while ſhe
is here, a man may live as quiet in hell, as in a fanſtuary,
and people ſin upon purpofe, because they would goſ
thither, ſo indeed all diſquiet, horror, and perturbation
follows her.

Enter Claudio, and Beatrice, Leenato, Hero.

Pedro. Look here ſhe comes.

Bene. Will your Grace command me any ſervicè to
the worlds end ? I will go on the flighteſt errand now
to the Antipodes that you can devife to ſend me on: I
will fetch you a tooth-picker now from the furtheſt inch
of Africa: bring you the length of *Prefter Johns* foot: fetch
you a hair off the great *Chams* beard: doe you any em-
baffage to the Pignies, rather then hold three words
conference with this Harpy: you have no employment
for me?

Pedro. None, but to define your good company.

Bene. O God ſir, heres a diſh I love not, I cannot in-
dure this Ladies tongue.

Pedro. Come Lady, come, you have loſt the heart of
Signior Benedicke.

Beat. Indeed my Lord, he lent it me a while, and I
gave him ſuſe for it, a double heart for a ſingle one. marry
once before he won it of me, with ſalſe dice, therefore
your Grace may well ſay I have loſt it.

Pedro. You have put him down Lady, you have put
him down.

Beat. So I would not he ſhould do me, my Lord, left I
should prove the mother of fools: I have brought Count
Claudio, whom you ſent me to ſeek.

Pedro. Why how now Count, wherefore are you ſad?

Clau. Not ſad my Lord.

Pedro. How then ? ſiek ?

Clau. Neither, my Lord.

Beat. The Count is neither ſad, nor ſiek, nor merry,
nor well: but civil Count, civil as an Orange, and some-
thing of a jealous complexion.

Pedro. Iſaith Lady, I think your blazon to be true,
though I beſworn, if he be ſo, his conceit is ſalſe:
here *Clandio*, I have wooed in thy name, and fair *Hero*
is won, I have broke with her father, and his good will
obtained, name the day of marriage, and God give thee
joy.

Leona. Count, take of me my daughter, and with her
my fortunes: his grace hath made the match, and all grace
ſay, Amen to it.

Beat. Speak Count, 'tis your Qu.

Clau. Silence is the perfecte Heralt of joy; I were
but little happy if I could ſay, how much ? Lady, as you
are mine, I am yours, I give away my ſelfe for you, and
doat upon the exchange.

Beat. Speak cofin, or (if you cannot) ſtop his mouth
with a kifs, and let not him ſpeak neither.

Pedro. Inſaith Lady you have a merry heart.

Beat. Yea my Lord I thank it, poore ſoole it keeps
on the windy ſide of care, my cofin tells him in his eare
that he is in my heart.

Clau. And so ſhe doth cofin.

Beat. Good Lord for alliance: thus goes every one to
the world but I, and I am ſun-burn'd, I may ſit in a cor-
ner and cry, heigh ho for a husband.

Pedro. Lady *Beatrice*, I will get you one.

Beat. I would rather have one of your fathers getting:
hath your Grace ne're a brother like you ? your father
got excellent husbands, if a maid could come by them.

Prince. Will you have me ? Lady.

Beat. No, my Lord, unleſſe I might have another for
working-dayes, your Grace is too coſtly to wear every
day: But I beſeech your Grace pardon me, I was born
to ſpeak all mirth, and no matter.

Prince. Your ſilence moff offends me, and to be mer-
ry, beſt becomes you, for out of queſtion, you were born
in a merry hour.

Beat. No ſure my Lord, my mother cryed, but then
there was a flat danc'd, and under that I was borne: cofins
God give you joy.

Leona. Neece, will you look to that ſhings I told you
of?

Beat. I cry you mercy Uncle, by your Graces pardon.

Exit Beatrice.

Prince. By my troth a pleafant ſpirited Lady.

Leon. There's little of the melancholly element in her
my Lord, ſhe is never ſad, but when ſhe ſeepſ, and not
ever ſad then: for I have heard my daughter ſay, ſhe hath
often dreamt of unhappineſs, and wak't her ſelf with
laughing.

Pedro. She cannot indure to hear ſell of a husband.

Leon. O, by no means, ſhe mocks all her wooers out
of ſuit.

Prince. She were an excellent wife for Benedicke.

Leona. O lord, my Lord, if they were but a week mar-
ried,

Much adoe about Nothing.

107

married, they would talk themselves mad.

Prince. Count Claudio, when mean you to go to Church ?

Claud. To morrow my Lord, Time goes on crutches, till love have all his rites.

Leona. Not till Monday, my dear Son, which is hence a just seven night, and a time too brief too, to have all things anfwer mind.

Prince. Come, you shake the head at so long a break- thing, but I warrant thee Claudio, the time shall not go dully by us, I will in the interim, undertake one of Her- cules labours, which is to bring Signior Benedicke and the Lady Beatrice into a mountain of affeition, th' one with th' other, I would fain have it a match, and I doubt not but to fashion it, if you three will but minifter such affi- ance as I shall give you direction.

Leona. My Lord, I am for you, though it coft me ten nights watchings.

Claud. And I my Lord.

Prin. And you too gentle Hero.

Hero. I will do any modest office, my Lord, to help my cofin to a good husband.

Prin. And Benedicke is not the unhopeffullest husband that I know: thus farre can I praise him, he is of a noble ſtrain, of approved valour, and confirm'd honeſty. I will teach you how to humour your coſin, that he ſhall fall in love with Benedicke, and I, with your two helps, will ſo præſtife on Benedicke, that in deſpite of his quick wit, and his queafie ſtomack, he ſhall fall in love with Beatrice: if we can do this, Cupid is no longer an Archer, his glory ſhall be ours, for we are the only love-gods, go with me, and I will tell you my drift.

Exeunt.

Enter John and Borachio.

Bora. Yea my Lord, but I can croſt it.

John. Any bar, any croſs, any impediment, will be medicinable to me; I am ſick in difpleasure to him, and whatſever comes athwart his affection, ranges evenly with mine, how canſt thou croſs this marriage ?

Bor. Not honeſtly my Lord, but ſo covertly, that no diſhonesty ſhall appear in me.

John. Show me briefly how.

Bor. I think I told your Lordship a year ſince, how much I am in the favour of Margaret, the waiting gen- tlewoman to Hero.

John. I remember.

Bor. I can at any uneſtaſonable inflant of the night, ap- point her to look out at her Ladies chamber window.

John. What life is in that, to be the death of this marriage ?

Bor. The poyſon of that lies in you to temper, goe you to the Prince your brother, ſpare not to tell him, that he hath wronged his Honor in marrying the renowned Claudio, whose eſtimation do you mightily hold up, to a contaminated ſtale, ſuch a one as *Hero*.

John. What proofe ſhall I make of that ?

Bor. Proſe enough, to miſe the Prince, to vex Claudio, to undoe *Hero*, and kill *Leonato*, look you for any other illſue ?

John. Onely to deſpite them, I will endeavour any thing.

Bor. Goe then, find me a meet houre, to draw on Pedro and the Count Claudio alone, tell them that you know that *Hero* loves me, intend a kind of zeal both to the Prince and Claudio (as in a love of your brothers

honor who hath made this match) and his friends reſu- tation, who is thus like to be cofen'd with the ſembance of a maid, that you have difeover'd thus: they will ſcare- ly believe this without triall: offer them inſtances which shall bear no leſſe likelihood, than to fee me at her cham- ber window, hear me call Margaret, *Hero*; hear Mar- garet terme me Claudio, and bring them to fee this, the very night before the intended wedding, for in the mean time, I will fashion the matter, that *Hero* ſhall be abſent, and there ſhall appear ſuch ſeeming truths of *Hero's* difloyalty, that jealouſe ſhall be call'd affurance, and all the preparation overthrown.

Bor. Grow this to what adverſe ill ſcan it, I will put it in præſtife: be cunning in the working this, and thy fee is a thousand ducats.

Bor. Be thou conſtant in the accufation, and my cunning ſhall not ſhame me.

John. I will prefently goe learn their day of marri- age.

Exit.

Enter Benedicke alone.

Bene. Boy.

Boy. Signior.

Bene. In my chamber window lies a book, bring it hither to me in the orchard.

Boy. I am here already fir.

Exit.

Bene. I know that, but I would have thee hence, and here again. I doe much wonder, that one man ſeeing how much another man is a ſool, when he dedicates his behaviours to love, will after he hath taught at ſuch ſhallow follies in others, become the argument of his own ſcorne, by falling in love, and ſuch a man is Claudio, I have known when there was no mufick with him but the drum and the ſife, and now had he rather hear the taber and the pipe: I have known when he would have walkt ten mile a foot, to fee a good armor, and now will he lie ten nights awake carving the ſashion of a new dub- let: he was want to ſpeak plain, and to the purpofe (like an honeſt man and a louldier) and now is he turn'd ortho- graphy, his words are a very fantaſtical banquet, juſt ſo many ſtrange diſhes: may I be ſo converted, and fee with theſe eyes? I cannot tell, I think not: I will not be ſworn, but love may transform me to an oyſter, but I'le take my oath on it, till he have made an oyſter of me, he ſhall never make me ſuch a ſool: one woman is fair, yet I am well: another is wife, yet I am well: another ver- tuous, yet I am well: but till all graces be in one woman, one woman ſhall not come in my grace: rich he ſhall be, that's certain: wife, or I'le none; vertuous, or I'le never cheapon her: fair, or I'le never look on her: milde, or come not near me: Noble, or not for an Angell: of good diſcourſe: an excellent Mufitian, and her hair ſhall be of what colour it pleaſe God, hah ! the Prince and Monfieur Love, I will hide me in the Arbor.

Enter Prince, Leonato, Claudio, and Jack Wilson.

Prince. Come, ſhall we hear his this mufick ?

Claud. Yea my good Lord: how full the evening is, As hufft on purpose to grace harmony.

Prince. See you where Benedicke hath hid himſelf ?

Claud. O very well my Lord: the mufick ended, We'll fit the kid-fox with a penny worth.

Prince. Come Baltibazar, we'll hear that ſong again, Baltb. O good my Lord, taxe not ſo bad a voyce,

To flander mufick any more then once.

Prince.

Much adoe about Nothing.

109

love, 'tis very poffible he'll fcorn it, for the man (as you know all) hath a contemptible spirit.

Clau. He is a very proper man.

Prin. He hath indeed a good outward happineſſe.

Clau. 'Fore God, and in my mind very wife.

Prin. He doth indeed ſhew ſome ſparks that are like wit.

Leon. And I take him to be valiant,

Prin. As Hector, I affure you, and in the managing of
quarrels you may fee he is wife, for either he avoids them
with great diftinction, or undertakes them with a Christian like fear.

Leon. If he do fear God, a muſt neceſſarily keep peace,
if he break the peace, he ought to enter into a quarrell
with fear and trembling.

Prin. And ſo will he do, for the man doth fear God,
howſever it ſeems not in him, by ſome large jeaſts he
will make : well I am forry for your niece, ſhall we goe
fee Benedick, and tell him of her love ?

Clau. Never tell him, my Lord, let her wear it out
with good countſell.

Leon. Nay that's impoſſible, ſhe may wear her heart
out firſt.

Prin. Well, we will hear further of it by your daugh-
ter, let it coole the while, I love Benedick, well, and I
could with him would modetſly examine himselfſelf, to fee
how much he is unworthy to have ſo good a Lady.

Leon. My Lord, will you walk ? dinner is ready.

Clau. If he do not doat on her upon this, I will never
traſt my expectation.

Prin. Let there be the fame Net ſpred for her, and that
muſt your daughter and her gentlewoman carry : the
ſport will be, when they hold one an opinion of another
dotage, and no fuch matter, that's the Scene that I would
fee, which will be merely a dumb ſhew : let us ſend her
to call him into dinner.

Exenent.

Ben. This can be no trick, the conference was fadly
borne, they have the truth of this from Hero, they ſeem
to pity the Lady : it ſeems her affections have the full
bent: love me ? why it muſt be requited: I hear how I
am cenſur'd, they ſay I will bear my ſelf proudly, If I
perceive the love come from her: they ſay too, that ſhe
will rather die than give any ſign of affection: I did ne-
ver think to marry, I muſt not ſeem proud, happy are
they that hear their detractions, and can put them to
mending: they ſay the Lady is fair, 'tis a truth, I can
bear them witneſſe: and vertuous, 'tis ſo, I cannot re-
prove it : and wife, but for loving me, by my troth it is
no addition to her wit, nor no great argument of her
folly: for I will be horribly in love with her, I may chance
have ſome odde quirks and remains of wit broken on
me, becaufe I have rail'd ſo long againſt marriage: but
doth not the appetite alter ? a man loves the meat in
his youth, that he cannot indure in his age. Shall quips
and ſentences, and theſe paper bullets of the brain awe
a man from the career of his humour ? No, the world
muſt be peopled. When I faid I would die a batchelor, I
did not think I should live till I were married: here comes
Beatrice: by this day, ſhe's a fair Lady, I do ſpie ſome
marks of love in her.

Enter Beatrice.

Beat. Againſt my will I am ſent to bid you come into
dinner.

Ben. Fair Beatrice, I thank you for your pains.

Beat. I took no more pains for that thanks, then you
take pains to thank me; if it had been paintull, I would
not have come.

Ben. You take pleasure then in the meſſage.

Beat. Yea juff to much as you may take upon a knives
point, and choak a daw withall: you have no ſromach
Signior, fare you well.

Exit.

Ben. Ha, againſt my will I am ſent to bid you come
in to dinner: there's a double meaning in that: I took
no more pains for that thanks, then you took pains to
thank me, that's as much as to ſay, any pains that I take
for you is as eafie as thanks: if I do not take pity of her
I am a villain, if I do not love her I am a Jew, I will
goe get her picture.

Exit.

Actus Tertius.

Enter Hero and two Gentlemen, Margaret, and Ursula.

Hero. Good Margaret, run thee to the parlour;
There fhalt thou find my Cofin Beatrice,

Propofing with the Prince and Claudio,

Whisper her ear, and tell her I and Ursula

Walk in the Orchard, and our whole dift course

Is all of her, ſay that thou over-heardſt us,

And bid her ſteal into the pleached bower,

Where hony-fuckles ripened by the ſun

Forbid the ſun to enter : like favourites,

Made proud by Princes, that advance their pride.

Againſt that power that bred it, there will ſhe hide her,

To liffen to our purpofe, this is thy Office,

Bear thee well in it, and leave us alone.

Marg. Ile make her come I warrant prefently.

Exit.

Hero. Now Ursula, when Beatrice doth come,

As we do trace this alley up and down,

Our talk muſt onely be of Benedick,

When I do name him, let it be thy part,

To praife him more then ever Man did merit,

My talk to thee muſt be how Benedick

Is fick in love with Beatrice: of this matter,

Is little Cupids crafty arrow made,

That onely wounds by hear-fay: now begin,

Enter Beatrice.

For look where Beatrice like a Lapwing runs

Cloſe by the ground, to hear our conference.

Urf. The pleafant'ſt anfling is to fee the fifth

Cut with her golden oars the filver ſtream,

And greedily devour the treacherous bait :

So angle we for Beatrice, who even now,

Is couched in the woodbine coverture,

Fear you not my part of the Dialogue,

Her. Then goe we near her that her ear ſoſe nothing,
Of the falſe ſweet bait that we lay for it :

No truely Urfula, ſhe is too diſdainfull,

I know her ſpirits are as coy and wild,

As Haggards of the rock,

Urf. But are you ſure,

That Benedick loves Beatrice ſo intirely ?

Her. So fayes the Prince, and my new trothed Lord.

Urf. And did they bid you tell her of it, Madam?

Her. They did intreat me to acquaint her of it,

But I perfwaded them, if they lov'd Benedick,

K

To

IIo

Much adoe about Nothing.

To with him wrattle with affection,
And never to let *Beatrice* know of it.

*Urf.* Why did you so, doth not the Gentleman
Deferve as full, as fortunate a bed,
As ever *Beatrice* shall couch upon?

*Hero.* O God of love ! I know he doth deferve,
As much as may be yielded to a man :
But nature never fram'd a woman's heart,
Of prouder fluffe then that of *Beatrice* :
Of daind and Scorn ride sparkling in her eye,
Mif-prizing what they look on, and her wit
Values it self so highly, that to her
All matter else seems weak : she cannot love,
Nor take no shape nor project of affection :
H: is so self indeed.

*Urf.* Sure I think so,
And therefore certainly it were not good
She knew his love, left the make sport at it.

*Hero.* Why you speak truth, I never yet saw man,
How wife, how noble, young, how rarely featur'd.
But the would spell him backward: if fairfa'd,
She would wear the gentleman should be her fitter:
If black, why Nature drawing of an antick,
Made a foul blot : if tall, a launce ill-headed:
If low, an agot very wildly cut :
If speaking, why a vane blown with all winds,
If silent, why a black moved with none.
So turnes the every man the wrong fide out,
And never gives to truth and Vertue, that
Which fimplenefſe and merit puchafeth.

*Urf.* Sure, ſure, ſuch carping is not commendable.

*Hero.* No, not to be so odds, and from all falfions,
As *Beatrice* is, cannot be commendable,
But who dare tell her ſo ? if I should ſpeak,
She would mock me into aire, O she would laugh me
Out of my ſelf, preſſe me to death with wit,
Therefore let Benedick like'd covered fire,
Confume away in ſighs, waſte inwardly :
It were a bitter death, to die with moſts,
Which is as bad as die with tickling.

*Urf.* Yet tell her of it, hear what the ſhe will ſay.

*Her.* No, rather I will goe to Benedick,
And confail him to fight againſt his paffion,
And truly he deviſe ſome honest ſlanders,
To ſtain my coſin with : one doth not know,
How much an ill word may impoſon liking.

*Urf.* O do not do your coſin ſuch a wrong.
She cannot be so much without true judgement,
Having to swift and excellent a wit
As he is priz'd to have, as to refuſe

So rare a Gentleman as ſignior Benedick,
*Her.* He is the only man of Italy,

Alwaies excepted, my dear *Claudio*.

*Urf.* I pray you be not angry with me, Madam,
Speaking my fancy: Signior Benedick,
For shape, for hearing argument and valour,
Goes formoft in report through Italy.

*Her.* Indeed he hath an excellent good name.

*Urf.* His excellence did earn it ere he had it:
When are you married Madam ?

*Her.* Why every day to morrow, come goe in,
Ile shew thee ſome attires, and have thy counſell,
Which is the best to furniſh me to morrow.

*Urf.* She's tane I warrant you,
VVe have caught her Madam ?

*Hero.* If it prove so, then loving goes by haps,

Some *Cupids* kills with arrows, ſome with traps. *Exit.*

*Beat.* What fire is in mine ears ? can this be true?

Stand I condemn'd for pride and ſcorn so much ?

Contempt, farewell, and maiden pride, adieu,

No glory lives behind the back of ſuch,

And *Benedick*, love on, I will requite thee,

Taming my wild heart to thy loving hand :

If thou dost love, my kindneſſe shall incite thee

To bind our lovesup in a holy band.

For others ſay thou doſt deferve, and I

Believe it better then reſoorthly. *Exit.*

*Enter Prince, Claudio, Benedick, and Leonato.*
Prince. I doe but lay till your marriage be confum-
mate, and then I go toward *Arragon*.

*Claud.* I'll bring you thither my Lord, if you'l vouch-
ſafe me.

*Prin.* Nay, that would be as great a foil in the new
gloſe of your marriage, as to ſhow a child his new coat
and forbid him to wear it, I will onely be bold with
Benedick for his company; for from the crown of his
head, to the ſole of his foot, he is all mirth, he hath twice
or thrice cut *Cupids* bow-tring, and the little hang-man
dare not shoot at him, he hath a heart as found as a bell,
and the tongue is the clapper, for what his heart thinks,
his tongue speaks.

*Ben.* Gallants, I am not as I have bin,

*Leo.* So ſay I; methinks you are fadder.

*Claud.* I hope he be in love.

*Prin.* Hang him truant, there's no true drop of blood
in him to be truly toucht with love, if he be ſad, he wants
money.

*Ben.* I have the tooth-ach.

*Prin.* Draw it.

*Ben.* Hang it.

*Claud.* You muſt hang it firſt, and draw it afterwards.

*Prin.* What ? ſigh for the tooth-ach.

*Leon.* Where is but a humour or a worm.

*Ben.* Well, every one cannot maſter a grief, but he
that has it.

*Claud.* Yet ſay I, he is in love.

*Prin.* There is no appearance of ſancie in him, unleſſe
it be a fancy that he hath to ſtrange diſguſes, as to be
a Dutchman to day, a Frenchman to morrow : unleſſe he
have a fancy to this ſoolery, as it appears he hath, he
is no fool for fancy, as you would hiv'e it to appear
he is.

*Claud.* If he be not in love with ſome woman, there is
no believing old ſignes, a brushes his hat a mornings;
What should that bode?

*Prin.* Hath any man ſeen him at the Barbers ?

*Claud.* No, but the Barbers man hath been ſeen with
him, and the old ornament of his cheek hath already
ſtuſt tennis balls.

*Leon.* Indeed he looks younger than he did, by the loſſe
of a beard.

*Prin.* Nay a rubs himself with Civit, can you finell
him out by that ?

*Claud.* That's as much as to ſay, the ſweet youth's in
love.

*Prin.* The greatest note of it is his melancholy.

*Claud.* And when was he went to waſh his face?

*Prin.* Yea, or to paint himself? for the which I hear
what they ſay of him.

*Claud.* Nay, but his jeſting (spirit, which is now crept
into a lute-tring, and now govern'd by flops.*

*Prince.*

Much adoe about Nothing.

III

Prin. Indeed that tells a heavy tale for him: conclude,
he is in love.

Clau. Nay, but I know who loves him.

Prin. That would I know too, I warrant one that
knows him not.

Clau. Yes, and his ill conditions, and in depfight of
all, dies for him.

Prin. She shall be buried with her face upwards.

Ben. Yes is this no charm for the tooth-ake, old fig-
nior, walk afide with me, I have studied eight or nine
wife words to speak to you, which these hobby-horces
muft not hear.

Prin. For my life to break with him about Beatrice.

Clau. 'Tis even so, Hero and Margaret have by this
played their parts with Beatrice, and then the two Bears
will bite one another when they meet.

### Enter John the Bastard.

Bast. My Lord and brother, God fave you,

Prin. Good den brother.

Bast. If your leifure ferv'd, I would ſpeak with you,

Prin. In private?

Bast. If it pleafe you, yet Count Claudio may hear,
for what I would ſpeak of, concerns him,

Prin. What's the matter?

Bast. Means your Lordship to be married to mor-
row?

Prin. You know he does.

Bast. I know not that when he knows what I know.

Clau. If there be any impediment, I pray you difco-
ver it.

Bast. You may think I love you not, let that appear
hereafter, and aim better at me by that I now will ma-
nifeft, for my brother (I think, he holds you well, and in
dearneſſe of heart) hath holpe to effect your ensuing
marriage: ſurely ſute ill ſpent, and labour ill beſtowed.

Prin. Why, what's the matter?

Bast. I came hither to tell you, and circumstances
shortned, (for she hath been too long a talking of) the
Lady is difloyal.

Clau. Who! Hero!

Bast. Even ſhe, Leonato's Hero, your Hero, every
mans Hero.

Clau. D.loyal?

Bast. The word is too good to paint out her wicked-
neſſe, I could ſay ſhe were worſe, think you of a worſe
circle, and I will fit her to it: wonder not till further war-
rant: goe but with me to night, you ſhall fee her cham-
ber window entred, even the night before her wedding
day, if you love her, then to morrow wed her: but it
would better fit your honour to change your mind.

Clau. May this be ſo?

Prin. I will not think it.

Bast. If you dare not truſt that you fee, confefſe not
that you know: if you will follow me, I will ſhow you
enough, and when you have ſeen more, and heard more,
proceed accordingly.

Clau. If I fee any thing to night, why I should not
marry her to morrow in the congregation, where I should
wed, there will I ſhame her.

Prin. And as I wooed for thee to obtain her, I will
join with thee to diſgrace her.

Bast. I will diſparage her no farther, till you are my
witneſſes, bear it coldly but till night, and let the iſſe
thew it ſelf.

Prin. O day untowardly turned?

Clau. O miſchief ſtrangeiy thwarting!

Bast. O plague right well prevented! ſo will you fay,
when you have ſeen the ſequele.

Enter Doghery and his compartner with the watch.

Dog. Are you good men and true?

Verg. Yea, or eſſe it were pity but they ſhould ſuffer
ſalvation body and foul.

Dog. Nay, that were a puniſhment too good for them,
if they ſhould have any allegiance in them, being choſen
for the Princes watch.

Verg. Well, give them their charg, neighbour Dog-
bery.

Dog. First, who think you the moſt deſartleſſe man to
be Conſtable?

Watch. 1. Hugh Ote-cake fir, or George Sea-cole, for
they can write and reade.

Dog. Come hither neighbour Sea-cole, God hath
bleſt you with a good name: to be a well-favoured man,
is the gift of fortune, but to write and read, comes by
Nature.

Watch. 2. Both which Maſter Conſtable

Dog. You have: I knew it would be your anſwer:
well, for your favour fir, why, give God thanks, and make
no boast of it, and for your writing and reading, let that
appear when there is no need of much vanity: you are
thought here to be the moſt ſenſſeſſe and fit man for the
Conſtable of the watch: therefore bear you the lan-
thorn: this is your charge: You ſhall comprehend all
vagrom men, you are to bid any man ſtand in the Princes
name.

Watch. 2. How if a will not ſtand?

Dog. Why then take no note of him, but let him
go, and prefently call the reſt of the Watch together, and
thank God you are ridde of a knave.

Verg. If he will not ſtand when he is bidden, he is
none of the Princes ſubjects.

Dog. True, and they are to meddle with none but the
Princes ſubjects: you ſhall alſo make no noife in the
ſtreets: for, for the Watch to babble and talk, is moſt
tollerable, and not to be indured.

Watch. We will rather ſleep then talk, we know
what belongs to a Watch.

Dog. Why you ſpeak like an ancient and moſt quiet
watchman, for I cannot ſee how ſleeping ſhould offenſ:
only have a care that your bills be not ſtoſn: well, you
are to call at all the Ale-houses, and bid them that are
drunk get them to bed.

Watch. How if they will not?

Dog. Why, then let them alone till they are ſober, if
they make you not then the better anſwer, you may ſay,
they are not the men you took them for.

Watch. Well fir.

Dog. If you meet a thief, you may ſuſpect him, by
vertue of your office, to be no true man: and for ſuch
kind of mon, the leſſe you meddle or make with them,
why the more is for your honcſt.

Watch. If we know him to be a thief, ſhall we not
lay hands on him?

Dog. Truly by your office you may, but I think they
that touch pitch will be ſleſſ'd: the moſt peaceable way
for you, if you do take a thief, is, to let him ſhow him-
ſelf what he is, and ſteal out of his company.

Verg. You have bin alwaies call'd a mercifull man
partner.

Dog. Truely I would not hang a dog by my will, much
more a man who hath any honcſt in him.

K 2

Verg.

Much adoe about Nothing.

113

Hero. God give me joy to wear it, for my heart is exceeding heavy.

Marg. 'Twill be heavier soon, by the weight of a man.

Hero. Fie upon thee, art not afham'd?

Marg. Of what Lady ? of speaking honourably ? is not marriage honourable in a beggar ? is not your Lord honourable without marriage ? I think you would have me say, faving your reverence a husband : and bad thinking do not weft true speaking, Ile offend no body, is there any harm in the heavier for a husband ? none I think, and it be the right husband, and the right wife, otherwife 'tis light and not heavy, ask my Lady Beatrice elfe, here she comes.

Enter Beatrice.

Hero. Good morrow Coze.

Beat. Good morrow Sweet Hero.

Hero. Why how now ? do you speak in the sick tune ?

Beat. I am out of all other tune me thinks.

Mar. Claps into Light a love, ( that goes without a burden,) do you sing it and Ile dance it.

Beat. Ye light alive with your heels, then if your husband have stables enough, you'll look he shall lack no barnes.

Mar. O illegitimate construction ! I scorn that with my heels.

Beat. 'Tis almost five a clock cofin, 'tis time you were ready, by my troth I am exceeding ill, hey ho.

Mar. For a hauk, a horfe, or a husband?

Beat. For the letter that begins them all, H.

Mar. Well, and you be not turn'd Turk, there's no more failing by the starre.

Beat. What means the fool trow ?

Mar. Nothing I, but God fend every one their hearts defire.

Hero. Thefe gloves the Count fent me, they are an excellent perfume.

Beat. I am ftuffe cofin, I cannot smell.

Mar. A maid and ftuff ! there's a goodly catching of cold.

Beat. O God help me, God help me, how long have you profest apprehension ?

Mar. Ever since you left it, doth not my wit become me rarely ?

Beat. It is not seen enough, you should wear it in your cap, by my troth I am fick.

Mar. Get you home of this diffil'd cardines benedictus and lay it to your heart, it is the only thing for a qualm.

Hero. There thou prickft her with a thiffell.

Beat. Benedictus, why benedictus ? you have some moral in this benedictus.

Mar. Moral ? no by my troth, I have no moral meaning, I meant plain holy thiffell, you may think per-chance that I think you are in love, nay birlady I am not fuch a fool to think what I lift, nor I lift not to think what I can, nor indeed I cannot think, if I would think my heart out of thinking, that you are in love, or that you will be in love, or that you can be in love : yet Benedick was fuch another, and now is he become a man, he twore he would never marry, and yet now in defpight of his heart he eates his meat without grudging, and how you may be converted I know not, but nie thinks you look with your eyes as other women do.

Beat. What pace is this that thy tongue keeps.

Mar. Not a falfe gallo.

Enter Urfula.

Urſula. Madam, withdraw, the Prince, the Count, fig-nior Benedick, Don John, and all the gallants of the town are come to fetch you to Church.

Hero. Help to drefſe me good coze, good Még, good Urſula.

Enter Leonata, and the Conſtable and the Headborough.

Leonato. What would you with me, honest neighbour ?

Conſt. Dog. Marry fir I would have ſome confidence with you, that decerns you nearly.

Leon. Brief I pray you, for you ſee it is a buſe time with me.

Conſt. Dog. Marry this it is fir.

Headb. Yes in truth it is fir.

Leon. What is it my good friends?

Conſt. Dog. Goodman Verges fir ſpeaks a little of the matter, an old man fir, and his wits are nor ſo blunt, as, God help, I would defire they were, but inſaith honest as the skin between his browses.

Headb. Yes I thank God, I am as honest as any man living, that is an old man, and no honeſter then I.

Conſt. Dog. Comparisons are odorous, palabras, neighbour Verges.

Leon. Neighbours, you are tedions.

Conſt. Dog. It pleafes your worſhip to ſay ſo, but we are the poor Dukes Officers, but truly for mine own part, if I were as tedious as a King, I could find in my heart to beſtow it all of your worſhip.

Leon. All thy tediousneſſe on me, ah ?

Conſt. Dog. Yea, and 'twere a thousand times more than 'tis for I hear as good exclamation on your Worſhip as of any man in the City, and though I be but a poor man, I am glad to hear it.

Headb. And ſo am I.

Leon. I would ſain know what you have to ſay.

Headb. Marry fir our watch to night, excepting your worſhips prefence, have tane a couple of as arrant knaves, as any in Mefſina.

Conſt. Dog. A good old man fir, he will be talking as they ſay, when the age is in the wit is out, God help us, it is a world to fee : well faid yfaith neighbour Verges, well, God's a good man, and two men rides an horſe one muſt ride behind, an honest foul yfaith fir, by my troth he is, as ever broke bread, but God is to be worſhipt, all men are not alike, alas good neighbour.

Leon. Indeed, neighbour he comes too ſhort of you.

Conſt. Dog. Gifts that God gives.

Leon. I muſt leave you.

Conſt. Dog. One word fir, our watch fir have indeed comprehended two aſpitious perſons, and we would have them this morning examined before your worſhip.

Leon. Take their examination your ſelf, and bring it me, I am now in great hafe, as may appear unto you.

Conſt. It ſhall be ſuffigance.

[exit.]

Leon. Drink ſome wine ere you goe : fare you well.

Méſ. My Lord, they ſlay for you to give your daugh-ter to her husband.

Leon. He wait upon them. I am ready.

Dogh. Goe good partner, goe get you to Francis See-coale, bid him bring his pen and inkhorn to the Goale : we are now to examine thofe men.

Verges. And we muſt doe it wifely.

Dough. We will ſpare for no wit I warrant you here's

114

Much adoe about Nothing.

here's that shall drive some of them to a non-come, on-
ly get the learned writer to let down our excommunicat-
tion, and meet me at the Jaile.
Exenunt.

Adus Quartus.

Enter Prince, Basfard, Leonardo, Frier, Claudio, Benedick, Hero, and Beatrice.

Leon. Come Frier Francis, be brief, onely to the plain
form of marriage, and you shall recount their particular
duties afterwards.

Fran. You come hither my Lord to marry this Lady.

Clau. No.

Leon. To be married to her, Frier, you come to mar-
ie her.

Frier. Lady, you come hither to be married to this
Count.

Hero. I doe.

Frier. If either of you know any inward impediment
why you should not be conjoined, I charge you on your
ouls to utter it.

Clau. Know you any, Hero?

Clau. None my Lord.

Frier. Know you any, Count?

Leon. I dare make his anſwer, None.

Clau. O what men dare do ! what men may do ! what
men daily do !

Ben. How now ! interjeſtions ? why then, ſome be
of laughing, as ha, ha, he.

Clau. Stand thee by Frier : father, by your leave,

Will you with free and unconſtrained ſoul

Give me this maid your daughter ?

Leon. As freely ſon as God did give her me.

Clau. And what have I to give you back, whole worth
May counterpoife this rich and precious gift ?

Prin. Nothing, unleſſe you render her again.

Clau. Sweet Prince, you learn me noble thankfulness :
There Leonato, take her back again,

Give not this rotten Orange to your friend,

She's but the ſign and ſembance of her honour :

Behold how like a maid ſhe bluches here !

O what authority and ſhew of truth

Can cunning ſin cover it ſelf withall !

Comes not that bloud, as modeſt evidence,

To witneſſe ſimple Vertue ? would you not ſwear

All you that ſee her, that ſhe were a maid,

By theſe exterieur ſhews ? But ſhe is none :

She knows the heat of a luxurious bed :

Her bluſh is guiltineſſe, not modeſtie.

Leon. What do you mean my Lord ?

Clau. Not to be married,

Not knit my foul to an approved wanton.

Leon. Dear my Lord, if you in your own proofe,

Have vanquifh the refiſtance of your youth,

And made defeat of her virginity. ( her :
Clau. I know what you would ſay : if I have known

You will lay, ſhe did imbrace me as a husband,
And to extenuate the forehand ſin : No Leonato,

I never tempted her with word too large,

But as a brother to his ſifter, ſhewed

Baſſ full ſincerity and comely love.

Hero. And seem'd I ever otherwife to you ?

Clau. Out on thee ſeeming, I will write againſt it,
You ſeem to me as Diana in her Orb,
As chaſt as is the bud ere it be blown :

But yon are more intemperate in your bloud,

Than Venus, or thoſe pampered animals,

That rage in favage ſenſuality.

Hero. Is my Lord well, that he doth ſpeak so wide ?

Leon. Sweet Prince why ſpeak not you ?

Prin. What ſhould I ſpeak ?

I ſtand diſhonour'd that have gone about,

To link my dear friend to a common ſtale.

Leon. Are theſe things ſ spoken, or do I but dream ?

Baſſ. Sir, they are ſ spoken, and theſe things are true,

Ben. This looks not like a nuptial,

Hero. True ! O God !

Clau. Leonato, ſtand I here ?

Is this the Prince ? is this the Princes brother ?

Is this face Heroes ? are our eyes our own ?

Leon. All this is so, but what of this my Lord ?

Clau. Let me but move one queſtion to your daughter,
And by that fatherly and kindly power,

That you have in her, bid her anſwer truly.

Leon. I charge thee to do as thou art my child.

Hero. O God defend me, how am I beſet,

What kind of catechizing call you this ?

Leon. To make you anſwer truly to your name,

Hero. Is it not Hero ? who can blot that name

With any juſt reproach ?

Clau. Marry that can Hero,

Hero it ſelf can blot out Heroes vertue.

What man was he, talkt with you yeſternight,

Out at your window betwixt twelve and one ?

Now if you are a maid anſwer to this,

Hero. I talkt with no man at that hour my Lord,

Prin. Why then you are no maiden. Leonato,

I am forry you muſt hear : upon mine honour,

My ſelf, my brother, and this grieved Count

Did fee her, hear her, at that hour left night,

Talk with a ruffian at her chamber window,

Who hath indeed moſt like a liberal villain

Conſeſt the vile encounters they have had

A thousand times in ſeerer.

John. Fie, ſie, they are not to be named my Lord,

Not to be ſpoken of,

There is not chaſtity enough in language,

Without offence to utter them : thus pretty Lady

I am forry for thy much miſgovernment.

Claud. O Hero ! what a Hero hadſt thou been

If half thy outward graces had been placed

About thy thoughts and counſels of thy heart ?

But fare thee well, moſt foul, moſt fair, farewell

Thou pure impiety, and impious purity,

For thee Ile lock up all the gates of Love,

And on my eye-lids shall Conſecture hang,

To turn all beauty into thoughts of harm,

And never ſhall it more be gracious.

Leon. Hath no man dagger here a point for me ?

Beat. Why how now cofin, wherefore fink you down?

Baſſ. Come, let us go : theſe things come thus to light,

Smother her ſpirits up.

Ben. How doth the Lady ?

Beat. Dead I think, help uncle,

Here, Why Hero, Uncle, Signior Benedick, Frier.

Leon. O Fate ! take not away thy heavy hands,

Death is the faireſt cover for her ſhame

That may be wifſt for.

Beat. How

Much adoe about Nothing.

115

Beat. How now cofin' *Hero* ?

*Fri.* Have comfort Lady.

*Leo.* Dost thou look up ?

*Fri.* Yea, wherefore should she not ?

*Leo.* Wherefore ? Why doth not every earthly thing Cry shame upon her ? Could she here denie The story that is printed in her bloud ?

Do not live. *Hero*, do not ope thine eyes : For did I think thou would'it not quickly die, Thought thy spirits were stronger then thy shame's My self would on the rearward of reproaches Strike at thy life. Griev'd I, I had but one ? Chid I, for that at frugall Natures frame ? One too much by thee : why had I one ? Why ever was't thou lovely in my eyes ? Why had I not with charitable hand Took up a beggar's iflue at my gate's, Who smeered thus, and mir'd with infamie, I might have faid, no part of it is mine : This shame derive's it self from unknown loins, But mine, and mine I lov'd, and mine I prais'd, And mine that I was proud on, mine so much, That I my self, was to my felf not mine : Valewing of her, why she, O she is fal'n Into a pit of Ink, that the wide sea Hath drops too few to waſh her clean again, And falt too little, which may feafon give To her foul tainted flesh.

*Ben.* Sir, fir, be patient: for my part, I am so attir'd in wonder, I know not what to fay.

*Beat.* O on my foul my coſin is belied.

*Ben.* Lady, were you her bedfellow laſt night ?

*Bēa.* No truly: not, although untill laſt night, I have this twelvemonth been her bedfellow.

*Leon.* Confirm'd, confirm'd, O that is ſtronger made Which was before barr'd up with ribs of iron. Would the Prince li', and *Claudio* would he lie Who lov'd her ſo, that speaking of her foulneſs, Waſli'd it with tears ? Hence from her, let her die.

*Fri.* Hear me a little, for I have only been filent ſo long, and given way unto this courſe of fortune, by no ting of the Lady, I have mark'd

A thoufand bluſhing apparitions, To start into her face, a thoufand innocent ſhame's, In Angel whitenefs bear away thofe bluſhes, And in her eye there hath appear'd a fire To burn the errors that theſe Princes hold Againſt her maiden truth. Call me a fool, Truſt not my reading, nor my obſervations, Which with experimentall ſeel doth warrant The tenure of my book: truſt not my age, My reverence, calling, nor dignity, If this fweet Lady lie not guiltleſs here, Under fome biting error.

*Leon.* Friar, it cannot be: Thou feest that all the Grace that ſhe hath left, Is, that ſhe will not adde to her damnation A fin of perjury, ſhe not denies it: Why feek'ft thou then to cover with excufe, That which appears in proper nakedneſs ?

*Fri.* Lady, what man is he you are accus'd of ?

*Hero.* They know that do accufc me, I know none: If I know more of any man alive

Then that which maiden modesty doth warrant,
Let all my fins lack mercy. O my Father,
Prove you that any man with me convert it,

At hour's unmeet, or that I yeftert ght,
Maintain'd the change of words with any creature,
Refuse me, hate me, torture me to death.

*Fri.* There is ſome ſtrange miſprifion in the Prince.

*Ben.* Two of them have the very bent of honor,
And if their wifdom's be mifled in this :

The prætife of it lives in *John* the baſtard,
Whofe spirits toile in frame of villanies.

*Leon.* I know not: if they ſpeak but truth of her,
These hands ſhall tear her: if they wrong her honor,
The proudest of them ſhall well hear it.
Time hath not yet ſo dried this bloud of mine,
Nor age ſo eat up my invention,
Nor fortune made ſuch havock of my means,
Nor my bad life reſt me ſo much of friends,
But they ſhall finde, awak'd in ſuch a kinde,
Both ſtrength of limbe, and policie of minde,
Ability in means, and choife of friends,
To quit me of them throughly.

*Fri.* Paufe a while,

And let my counſell (way you in this caſe)
Your daughter here the Princeſs (left for dead)

Let her a while be secretly kept in,
And publifh it, that ſhe is dead indeed:

Maintain a mourning oftentation,
And on your Families old monument,
Hang mounſull Epitaph's, and do all rites,
That appertain unto a buriall.

*Leon.* What ſhall become of this? What will this do ?

*Fri.* Marry this well carried, ſhall on her behalfſe,

Change ſlander to, remorſe, that is ſome good:

But not for that dream I on this ſtrange courſe,

But on this travail look for greater birth :

She dying, as it muſt be ſo maintain'd,
Upon the inſant that ſhe was accus'd,
Shall be lamented, pittied, and excus'd

Of every hearer: for it ſo falls out,
That what we have, we prize not to the worth,

Whiles we enjoy it; but being lack'd and loft,

Why then we rack the value, then we finde

The vertue that poſſeffion would not ſhow us
Whiles it was ours; ſo will it fare with *Claudio*:

When he ſhall hear ſhe dyed upon his words,
Th' Idea of her life ſhall fweetly creep
Into his ſtudy of imagination.

And every lovely Organ of her life,
Shall come apparel'd in more precious habit:

More moving, delicate, and full of life,

Into the eye and proſpect of his ſoul

Than when the liv'd indeed: then ſhall he mourn,

If ever Love had intereſt in his Liver,

And with ſhe had not ſo accuſed her :

No, though he thought his accufation true :

Let this be ſo, and doubt not but ſucceſs

Will fathion the event in better ſhape

Then I can lay it down in likelihood.

But if all aim but this be level'd falſe,

The ſuppofition of the Ladies death,

Will quench the wonder of her infamy.

And if it fort not well, you may conceal her,

As beſt beſts her wounded reputation,

In ſome reſuſive and religious life,

Out of all eyes, tongues, minds and injuries.

*Ben.* Signior *Leonato*, let the Friar advife you,
And though you know my inwardneſs and love
Is very much unto the Prince and *Claudio*,

Yet

Much adoe about nothing.

116

Yet, by mine honor, I will deal in this,
As secretly and juſtly, as your foul
Should with your body.

Leon. Being that I flow in grief,

The ſmallest twine may lead me.

Frier. 'Tis well conſented, prefentely away,
For to ſtrange ſores, ſtrangely they ſtrain the cure,
Come Lady, die to live, this wedding day

Perhaps is but prolong'd, have patience & endure. Exit.

Bene. Lady Beatrice, have you wept all this while?

Beat. Yea, and I will weep a while longer.

Bene. I will not define that.

Beat. You have no reaſon, I doe it freely.

Bene. Surely I do believe your fair coſin is wrong'd.

Beat. Ah, how much might the man deferue of me
that would right her !

Bene. Is there any way to ſhow ſuch friendſhip?

Beat. A very even way, but no ſuch friend.

Bene. May a man doe it ?

Beat. It is a mans office, but not yours.

Bene. I do love nothing in the world ſo well as you, is not that ſtrange ?

Beat. As ſtrange as the thing I know not, it were as
poſſible for me to ſay, I loved nothing ſo well as you, but
believe me not, and yet I lie not, I confefs nothing, nor
I deny nothing, I am forry for my coſin.

Bene. By my ſword Beatrice thou lovſt me.

Beat. Do nor ſwear by it and eat it.

Bene. I will ſwear by it that you love me, and I will
make him eat it that faies I love not you.

Beat. Will you not eat your word ?

Bene. With no ſawce that can be devifed to it, I pro-
teſt I love thee.

Beat. Why then God forgiſe me.

Bene. What offence ſweet Beatrice?

Beat. You have ſtayed me in a happy hour, I wasa-
bout to proteſt I loved you.

Bene. And do it with all thy heart.

Beat. I love you with ſo much of my heart, that none
is left to proteſt.

Bene. Come, bid me doe any thing for thee.

Beat. Kill Claudio.

Bene. Ha, not for the wide world.

Beat. You kill me to denie, farewell.

Bene. Tarry ſweet Beatrice.

Beat. I am gone, though I am here, there is no love in
you, nay I pray you let me go.

Bene. Beatrice.

Beat. Inſaith I will go.

Beat. We'll be friends firſt.

Beat. You dare eaſier be friends with me, than fight
with mine enemy.

Bene. Is Claudio thine enemy ?

Beat. Is a not approved in the height a villain, that
hath flandered, ſcorned, diſhonoured my kinfwoman ? O
that I were a man ! what, bear her in hand untill they
come to take hands, and then with publick accufation,
uncovered flander, unmittigated rancour ? O God that I
were a man? I would eat his heart in the market-place.

Bene. Hear me Beatrice.

Beat. Talke with a man out at a window, a proper
faying.

Bene. Nay, but Beatrice.

Beat. Sweet Hero, ſhe is wrong'd, ſhe is flandered,
ſhe is undone.

Bene. Bett ?

Beat. Princes and Counties ! ſurely a princely teſt-
mony, a goodly Count-Comſeet, a ſweet Gallant ſurely,
O that I were a man for his ſake ! or that I had any
friend would be a man for my ſake! But manhood is melt-
ed into curteſies, valour into complement, and men are
only turned into tongue, and trim ones too: he is now
as valiant as Hercules, that only tells a lie, and ſwears it:
I cannot be a man with wifhing, therefore I will die a
woman with grieving.

Bene. Tarry good Beatrice, by this hand I love thee.

Beat. Uſe it for my love ſome other way theu ſwear-
ing by it.

Bene. Think you in your foul the Count Claudio hath
wrong'd Hero ?

Beat. Yea, as ſure as I have a thought, or a foul.

Bene. Enough. I am engag'd, I will challenge him, I
will kifs your hand, and ſo leave you : by this hand Clau-
dio ſhall render me dear account: as you hear of me, ſo
think of me: go comfort your coſin, I muſt ſay he is
dead, and ſo farewell.
Exeunt.

Enter the Conſtables, Borachio, and the Town
Clerk in gowns.

Keeper. Is our whole diſſembly appear'd?

Cowley. O a ſtoole and cuſhion for the Sexton.

Sexton. Which be the Maleſtators?

Andrew. Marry that am I, and my partner.

Cowley. Nay, that's certain, we have the exhibition
to examine.

Sexton. But which are the offenders that are to be ex-
amined, let them come before Maſter Conſt able.

Kemp. Yea marry, let them come before me, what is
your name friend?

Bor. Borachio.

Kemp. Pray write down Borachio. Yours firra.

Conr. I am a Gentleman fir, and my name is Conrade.

Keep. Write down Maſter gentleman Conrade : mai-
ſters, do you ſerve God : maſters, it is proved already
that you are little better then ſalſe knaves, and it will go
near to be thought ſo ſhortly, how anſwer you for your
elses ?

Conr. Marry fir, we ſay we are none.

Kemp. A marvellous witty ſellow I affure yon, but I
will go about with him: come you hither firra, a word
in your ear fir, I ſay to you, it is thought you are ſalſe
knaves.

Bor. Sir, I ſay to you, we are none.

Kemp. Well, ſtand afide, 'fore God they are both in a
tale: have you writ down that they are none?

Sext. Maſter Conſt able, you go not the way to exa-
mine, you muſt call forth the watch that are their ac-
cuſers.

Kemp. Yea marry, that's the eſtect way, let the watch
come forth: maſters, I charge you in the Princes name,
accuſe theſe men.

Watch 1. This manſaid fir, that Don John the Prin-
ces brother was a villain.

Kemp. Write down, Prince John a villain: why this
is flat perjury, to call a Princes brother villain.

Bor. Maſter Conſt able.

Kemp. Pray thee fellow peace, I do not like thy look, I
promife thee,

Sexton. What heard you him ſay eſſe ?

Watch 2. Marry that he had received a thouſand Du-
kats of Don John, for the accuſing the Lady Hero wron-
fully.
Kemp.

Much adoe about Nothing.

120

*Mar.* Will you then write me a Sonnet in praise of my beauty ?

*Ben.* In so high a file *Margaret*, that no man living shall come over it, for in moft comely truth thou deferveft it.

*Mar.* To have no man come over me, why, shall I always keep below flairs ?

*Ben.* Thy wit is as quick as the grey-hounds' mouth, it catches.

*Mar.* And yours, as blunt as the Fencers foils, which hit, but hurt not.

*Ben.* A moft manly wit *Margaret*, it will not hurt a woman : and so I pray thee call *Beatrice*, I give thee the bucklers.

*Mar.* Give us the words, we have bucklers of our own.

*Ben.* If you use them *Margaret*, you muft put in the pikes with a vice, and they are dangerous weapons for Maids.

*Mar.* Well, I will call *Beatrice* to you, who I think hath legs.

*Ben.* And therefore will come. The god of love that fits above, and knows me, and knows me how pittifull I deferve ; I mean in finging, but in loving, Leander the good Swimmer, Troilous the first employer of panders, and a whole booke full of these quondam carpet-mongers, whose nancies yet run smoothly in the even rode of a blank verfe, why they were never so truly turned over as my poor self in love: marry I cannot flew it in time, I have tried, I can finde out no time to Ladie but badie, an innocents rime : for ferne, horne, a hard rime : for School, fool, a babling rime : very ominous endings, no, I was not born under a riming Planet, for I cannot wooe in festivall tearmes :

*Enter Beatrice.*

*Sweet Beatrice* would'ft thou come when I call'd thee ?

*Beat.* Yea Signior, and depart when you bid me.

*Ben.* O ftay but till then.

*Beat.* Then, is spoken : fare you well now, and yet ere I go, let me go with that I came, which is, with knowing what hath pafft between you and *Claudio*.

*Ben.* Only foule words, and thereupon I will kiffe thee.

*Beat.* Foul words and foule winde, and foule winde is but foul breath, and foul breath is noifome, therefore I will depart unkiſt.

*Ben.* Thou haſt frighted the word out of his right fence, ſo forcible is thy wit, but I muſt tell thee plainly, *Claudio* undergoes my challenge, and either I muſt hortantly hear from him, or I will ſubſcribe him a coward, and I pray thee now tell me, for which of my bad parts didſt thou firſt fall in love with me ?

*Beat.* For them all together, which maintain'd ſo politick a ſtate of evill, that they will not admit any good part to intermingle with them : but for which of my good parts did you firſt ſuffer love for me ?

*Ben.* Suffer love ! a good epithe, I do ſuffer love indeed, for I love thee againſt my will.

*Beat.* In ſpight of your heart I think, alaſ poor heart, if you ſpight it for my ſake, I will ſpight it for yours, for I will never love that which my friend hates.

*Bened.* Thou and I are too wife to wooe peacably.

*Beat.* It appears not in this conſeſſion, there's not one wife man among twenty that will praife himſelf.

*Ben.* An old, an old inſtance *Beatrice*, that liv'd in the time of good neighbours, if a man do not creeth in this age his own tombe ere he dies, he shall live no longer in monuments, then the Bells ring, and the Widow weeps.

*Beat.* And how long is that think you ?

*Ben.* Quæſtion, why an hour in clamour and a quitter in thewme, therefore is it moſt expedient for the wif, if Don worme (his conſcienc) finde no impedimente the contrary, to be the trumpet of his own verues, as I am to my ſelf ſo much for praiſing my ſelf, who I my ſelf will bear witneſs is praiſe worthy, and now tell me how doth your cofin ?

*Beat.* Very ill.

*Ben.* And how do you ?

*Beat.* Very ill too.

*Enter Urfula.*

*Ben.* Serve God, love me, and mend, there will I love you too, for here comes one in hafeſe.

*Urf.* Madam you muſt come to your Unkle, yonder old coile at home, it is proved my Lady *Hero* hath been faſtly accr'd, the *Prince* and *Claudio* mightily abuſed, and *Don John* is the author of all, who is ſled and game, will you come prefentely ?

*Beat.* Will you go hear this news Signior ?

*Ben.* I will live in thy heart, die in thy lap; and be buried in thy eyes: and moreover, I will gee with thee to thy Unklees.

*Enter Claudio, Prince, and three or four with Tapers.*

*Clau.* Is this the monument of Leonato ?

*Lord.* It is my Lord. *Epitaph.*
*Done to death by ſlanderous tongues,*
*Was the Hero that here lies :*

*Death in guerdon of her wrongs,*

*Gives her fame which never dies :*

*So the life that died with ſhame,*

*Lives in death with glorious fame.*

*Hang thou there upon the tombe,*

*Praſing her when I am dombe.*

*Clau.* Now muſick found and fing your ſolemne hymns, Song.

*Pardon goddeſs of the night,*

*Thofe that flew thy virgin knight,*

*For the which with ſongs of woe,*

*Round about her tombe they goe :*

*Midnight affift our moan,*

*Help us to fight and goran.*

*Heavily, heavily.*

*Graves yawn and yield your dead.*

*Till death be uttered,*

*Heavenly, heavenly.*

(this night.)

*Le.* Now unto thy bones good night, yearlyll I do

*Prin.* Good morrow maſters, put your Torches on,
The wolves have preyed, and look, the gentle day

Before the wheels of *Phœbus*, round about.

*Dapples the drowſe Eaſt with spots of grey :*

Thanks to you all, and leave us, fare you well.

*Clau.* Good morrow maſters, each his ſeveral way.

*Prin.* Come let us hence, and put on other weeds,
And then to *Leonato's* we will go.

*Clau.* And Hymen now with luckier iſſe ſpeed ;

Then

Love's Labour's loft.

Actus Primus. Scena Prima.

Enter Ferdinand King of Navarre, Biron, Longavile,
and Dumaine.

Ferdinand,

Et Fame, that all hunt after in their lives,
Live registred upon our brazen Tombes,
And then grace us in the diſgrace of death:
When ſpight of cormorant devouring Time,
Th'endeavour of this prefent breath may buy
That honour which ſhall bate his Sythes keen edge,
And make us heires of all eternitie,

Therefore brave Conquerors (for so you are)
That warre againſt your own affections,
And the huge Army of the worlds defires;
Our late Edict ſhall strongly ſtand in force,
Navarre ſhall be the wonder of the world.

Our Court ſhall be a little Academy,
Still and contemplative in living Art.
You three, Biron, Dumaine, and Longavile,
Have ſworn for three years team to live with me,
My fellow Schollers, and to keep thofe ſtatutes
That are recorded in this ſcedule here.

Your oathes are paſt, and now ſubſcribe your names:
That his own hand may ſtrike his honour down,
That violates the ſmallest branch herein :
If you are arm'd to doe, as ſworn to doe,

Subſcribe to your deep oathes, and keep them too.
Long. I am reſolv'd, 'tis but a three years ſaſt:
The mind ſhall banquet, though the body pine,
Fat paunches have lean pates: and dainty bits;
Make rich the ribs, but bankerout the wits.

Dum. My loving Lord, Dumaine is mortified,
The groſſer manner of theſe worlds delights,
He throws upon the groſſe worlds bafe r flages:
To love, to wealth, to pomp, I pine and die,
With all theſe living in Philofophy.

Biron. I can but ſay their proteſtation over,
So much (dear Liege) I have already ſworn,
That is, to live and ſtudy here three years.
But there are other ſtrict obſervances:
As not to fee a woman in that team,
Which I hope well is not enrolled there.

And one day in a week to touch no food:
And but one meal on every day befide:
The which I hope is not enrolled there.
And then to ſleep but three hours in the night,
And not be ſeen to wink of all the day.
When I was wont to think no harm all night,
And make a dark night too of half the day : ♡

Which I hope well is not enrolled there.
O, theſe are barren tasks, too hard to keep,
Not to fee Ladies, ſtudy, ſaſt, not ſleep.

Ferd. Your oath is paſt to paffe away from theſe,
Biron, Let me ſay no my Liege, and if you pleafe,
I onely ſwore to ſtudy with your Grace,
And ſay here in your Court for three years ſpace.

Long. You ſwore to that Biron, and to the reſt.

Bir. By yea and nay fir, then I ſwore in jeſt.

What is the end of ſtudy, let me know?

Ferd. Why that to know which eſſe we ſhould not
know. (ſenſe.)

Bir. Things hid and bard (you mean) from common
Ferd. I, that is ſtudies god-like recompence.

Bir. Come on then, I will ſwear to ſtudy ſo,
To know the thing I am forbid to know:
As thus, to ſtudy where I well may dine,
When I to ſaſt expreſly am ſ forbid,
Or ſtudy where to meet ſome Miftrefſe fine,
When Miftrefſes from common ſenſe are hid.
Or having ſworn too hard a keeping oath,
Study to break it, and not break my troth.
If ſtudies gain be thus, and this be ſo,
Study knows that which yet it doth not know,
Swear me to this, and I will ne're ſay no.

Ferd. Theſe be the ſtops that hinder ſtudy quite,
And train our intellecſs to vain delight.

Bir. Why ? all delights are vain, and that moſt vain,
Which with pain ſ purchasing, doth inherit pain,
As painfully to poar upon a book,
To ſeek the light of truth, while truth the while
Doth falſely blind the eye-fight of his look :
Light ſeeking light, doth light beguile :
So ere you find where light in darkneſſe lies,
Your light growes dark by loſing of your eyes.
Study me how to pleafe the eye indeed,
By fixing it upon a fairer eye,
Who dazling ſo, that eye ſhall be his heed,
And give him light that it was blinded by.
Study is like the heavens glorious Sunne,
That will not be deep ſearch'd with ſawcy looks :
Small have continual plodders ever wonne,
Save bafe authority from others Books.
Theſe earthly Godfathers of heavens lights,
That give a name to every fixed ſtarre,
Have no more profit of their ſhining nights,
Then thatſe that walk, and wot not what they are,
Too much to know, is to know nought but fame :
And every Godfather can give a name.

Ferd. How well he's read, to reaſon againſt reading.

Dum.

Love's Labour's loſt.

123

Dum. Proceeded well, to stop all good proceeding.

Long. He weeds the Corn, and still lets grow the
weeding.

Bir. The Spring is near, when Green Geese are a
breeding.

Dum. How follows that ?

Bir. Fit in his place and time.

Dum. In reason nothing.

Bir. Something then in rime.

Long. Biron is like an envious Sneaping Frotn,

That bites the first born Infants of the Spring.

Bir. Well, say I am, why should proud Summer boast,
Before the Birds have any caufe to sing?

Why should I joy in any abortive birth?

At Christmas I no more defure a Rose,

Than with a Snow in May's new fangled Snows :

But like of each thing that in season grows.

So you to fludy now it is too late,

That were to climb the ore the house t' unlock the gate.

Ferd. Well, fit you on: goe home Biron: adue,

Bir. No my good Lord, I have fworn to fly with you,

And though I have for barbarisme spoke more,

Then for that Angel knowledge you can say,

Yet confident I'll keep what I have fwore,

And bide the penance of each three years day.

Give me the Paper, let me read the fame,

And to the tric'dt decrees Ile write my name.

Ferd. How well this yielding refucse thee from ſhame.

Bir. Item, That no woman shall come within a mile
of my Court.

Hath this been proclaimed ?

Long. Four days agoe,

Bir. Let's see the penalty.

On pain of loofing her tongue,

Who devis'd this penalty ?

Long. Marry that did I,

Bir. Sweet Lord, and why?

Long. To fright them hence with that dread penalty:

A dangerous Law against gentility.

Item, If any man be seen to talk with a woman with
in the team of three years, he shall endure ſuch
publik ſhame as the rest of the Court shall poffibly
devide.

Bir. This article my Liege your self muſt break,

For well you know here comes in Embaffie

The French Kings daughter, with your self to ſpeak ;

A Maid of Grace and compleat Majeſtly,

About furrender up of Aquitaine

To her decrepit, ſick, and bed-rid Father,

Therefore this Article is made in vain,

Or vainly comes the admired Princesſe hither.

Ferd. What ſay you Lords ?

Why, this was quite forgot.

Bir. So fludy evermore is overſhot,

While it doth fludy to have what it would,

It doth forget to do the thing it should :

And when it hath the thing it hunteeth muſt,

Tis won as Towns with fire; ſo won, ſo loft.

Ferd. We muſt of force difpence with this Decree,
muſt lie here on meer neceſſity.

Bir. Neceſſity will make us all forfworn

Three thouſand times within this three years ſpace :

For every man with his affects is born,

Not by might maſtered, but by ſpecial grace.

If I break faith, this word shall break for me,

I am forfworn on meer neceſſitie.

So to the Laws at large I write my name,

And he that breaks them in the laſt degree

Stands in attainment of eternal ſhame.

Suggestions are to others as to me :

But I believe although I ſeem ſo loth,

I am the laſt that will laſt keep his oath,

But is there no quick recreation granted?

Ferd. I that there is, our Court you know is haunted

With a conceited Traveller of Spain,

A man in all the world new ſaſhion planted,

That hath a mint of phraſes in his brain :

One, whom the muſick of his own vain tongue,

Doth ravish like enchanting harmony :

A man of complements, whom right and wrong

Have choſe as umpire of their mutinie:

This child of fancie, that Armado hight,

For interim to our ſtudies ſhall relate,

In high-born words the worth of many a Knight :

From tawny Spain loſt in the worlds debate,

How you delight my Lords, I know not I,

But I proteſt I love to hear him lie ;

And I will uſe him for my Minſtreflic,

Bir. Armado is a muſſiſtrious wight,

A man of fire, new words, ſaſhions own Knight,

Long. Costard the ſwain, and he shall be our ſport,

And so to ſtudie, three years is but ſhort.

Enter a Constable with Costard with a Letter.

Const. Which is the Dukes own perſon,

Bir. This fellow, What would it?

Con. I my ſelf reprehend his own perſon, for I am his
Graces Tharborough: But I would ſee his own perſon in
fleth and bloud.

Bir. This is he,

Con. Signior Arme, Arme commends you :

There's villany abroad, this letter will tell you more.

Clow. Sir, the Contempts thereof are as touching
me.

Ferd. A Letter from the magnificent Armado.

Bir. How low ſoever the matter, I hope in God for
high words.

Long. A high hope for a low heaven, God grant us pa-
tience.

Bir. To hear, or forbear hearing.

Long. To hear meekly fir, and to laugh moderately,
or to forbear both,

Bir. Well fir, be it as the ſtyle ſhall give us cauſe to
climb in the merrineſſe.

Clow. The matter is to me fir, as concerning Faquenetta.
The manner of it is, I was taken with the manner,

Bir. In what manner ?

Clow. In manner and form, following fir all that
three. I was ſeen with her in the Mannor house, fitting
with her upon the Forme, and taken following her into
the Parke: which put together, is in manner and form
following. Now fir, for the Manner; is the manner
of a man to ſpeak to a Woman; for the Forme in ſome
forme.

Bir. For the following fir,

Clow. As it ſhall follow in my correction, and God
defend the right,

Ferd. Will you hear this Letter with attention?

Bir. As we would hear an Oracle.

Clow. Such is the ſimplicity of man to hearken after
the fleſh,

L 2

Ferd.

Low's Labour's lost.

125

Brag. A moſt fine figure.

Boy. To prove you a Cypher.

Brag. I will hereupon confefſe I am in love : and as it is bafe for a Souldier to love : so am I in love with a bafe Wench. If drawing my ſword againſt the humour of affection, would deliver me from the reprobate thought of it, I would take Deſire a prifoner, and ranſome him to any French Courſier for a new deſi'd courteſie. I think ſcorn to ſigh, me thinks I should out-swear Cupid. Comfort me Boy, What great men have been in love ?

Boy. Hercules, Maſter.

Brag. Moſt sweet Hercules : more authority dear Boy, name more ; and ſweet my child, let them be men of good repute and carriage.

Boy. Sampſon, Maſter, he was a man of good carriage, great carriage : for he carried the Town Gates on his back like a Porter ; and he was in love.

Brag. O well-knit Sampſon, ſtrong-joynted Sampſon; I doe excell thee in my Rapier, as much as thou didſt me in carrying Gates. I am in love too. Who was Sampſons Love my dear Moth ?

Boy. A woman, Maſter.

Brag. Of what complexion ?

Boy. Of all the four, or the three, or the two, or one of the four.

Brag. Tell me precifely of what complexion ?

Boy. Of the Sea-water Green fir.

Brag. Is that one of the four complexions ?

Boy. As I have read fir, and the beſt of them too.

Brag. Green indeed is the colour of Lovers : but to have a Love of that colour, me thinks Sampſon had ſmall reaſon for it. He ſpurely affected her for her wit.

Boy. It was ſo fir, for ſhe had a green wit.

Brag. My Love is moſt immaculate white and red.

Boy. Moſt immaculate thoughts Maſter, are mask'd under ſuch colours.

Brag. Deſine, define, well educated infant.

Boy. My Fathers wit, and my Mothers tongue affit me.

Brag. Sweet invocation of a child, moſt pretty and patheticall.

Boy. If ſhe be made of white and red, Her faults will ne're be known :

For blushing cheeks by faults are bred,

And fears by pale white ſhown :

Then if ſhe fear, or be to blame,

By this you ſhall not know.

For ſtill her cheeks poſſeſſe the fame,

Which native ſhe doth owe :

A dangerous rime Maſter againſt the reaſon of white and red.

Brag. Is there not a Ballet Boy, of the King and the Beggar ?

Boy. The world was very guilty of ſucha Ballet, ſome ſtore ages ſince, but I think now it is not to be found : or if it were, it would neither ſerve for the writing, nor the time.

Brag. I will have that ſubject newly wriſore, that I may example my digrefſure by ſome mighty preſident. Boy, I doe love that Countrie. Girl that I took in the Parke with the rationall Hind Coſtard : ſhe defefſers well.

Boy. To be whip'd : and yet a better Love then my Maſter.

Brag. Sing Boy, my ſpirit growes heavy in love.

Boy. And that's great marvell, loving a light Wench.

Brag. I ſay ſing.

Boy. Forbear till this company be pafft.

Enter Clown, Confiable, and Wench.

Conſ. Sir, the Dukes pleasure is, that you keep Coſtard faſe, and you muſt let him take no delight, nor no perſanance, but he muſt paff three dayes a week : for this Damſell, I muſt keep her at the Park, ſhe is allow'd for the Day-woman. Fare you well.

Exit.

Brag. I doe betray my ſelf with blushing : Maid.

Maid. Man.

Brag. I will viſit thee at the Lodge.

Maid. That's here by.

Brag. I know where it is ſituate.

Maid. Lord how wife you are !

Brag. I will tell thee wonders.

Maid. With that face ?

Brag. I love thee.

Maid. So I heard you ſay.

Brag. And ſo farewell.

Maid. Fair weather after you.

Come Jaquteneta, away.

Exeunt.

Brag. Villains, thou ſhalt paff for thy offences ere thou be pardoned.

Clo. Well fir, I hope when I doe it, I ſhall doe it on a full ſtomacke.

Brag. Thou ſhalt be heavily puniſhed.

Clo. I am more bound to you then your ſellows, for they are but lightly rewarded.

Con. Take away this Villain, but him up.

Boy. Come you transſ greffing ſlave, away.

Clow. Let me not be pent up fir, I will be paff being loose.

Boy. No fir, that were paff and loose : thou ſhalt to prifon.

Clow. Well, if ever I do ſee the merry dayes of deſolation that I have ſeen, ſome ſhall fee.

Boy. What ſhall ſome ſee ?

Clow. Nay nothing, Maſter Moth, but what they look upon. It is not for prifoners to be ſilent in their words, and therefore I will ſay nothing : I thank God, I have as little patience as another man, and therefore I can be quiet.

Exit.

Brag. I doe affect the very ground ( which is bafe ) where her ſhooe ( which is baſer ) guided by her foot ( which is baſeſt ) doth tread, I ſhall be forſworn ( which is a great argument of falſhood ) if I love. And how can that be true love, which is falſly attempted ? Love is a familiar, Love is a Devil. There is no evil. Angell but Love, yet Sampſon was ſo tempted, and he had an excelſent ſtrength : Yet was Solomon ſo ſeduced, and he had a very good wit, Cupids. But ſhaft is too hard for Hercules Club, and therefore too much oddes for a Spaniards Rapier : The firſt and ſecond caufe will not ſerve my turn : the Paſſado he respects not, the Duello he regards not ; his diſgrace is to be called Boy, but his glory is to ſubdue men. Adieu Valour, ruſt Rapier, bee ſtill Drum, for your manager is in love ; yea, he loveth. Aſſit me ſome extemporall god of Rime, for I am ſure I ſhall turn Sonnet. Devife Wit, write Pen, for I am for whole volumes in Folio.

Finis Actus Primi.

L 3

Actus

Love's Labour's lost.

Actus Secundus.

Enter the Princeſse of France, with three attending
Ladies, and three Lords.

Boyet. Now Madam fummion up your deareft spirits,
Confider whom the King your Father fends:
To whom he fends, and what's his Embaffie.
Your felf, held precious in the worlds eſteem,
To parlee with the ſole inheritour
Of all perfections that a man may owe,
Matchleſſe Navarre : the plea of no leſſe weight
Than Aquitain, a Dowry for a Queen.
Be now as prodigall of all dear grace,
As Nature was in making Graces dear,
When ſhe did ſtarve the generall world beſide,
And prodigally gave them all to you.

Prin. Good L. Boyet, my beauty though but mean,
Needs not the painted flourith of your praife :
Beauty is bought by judgement of the eye,
Not uttered by bafe ſale of Chapmens tongues:

am leſſe proud to hear you tell my worth,
T hen you much willing to be counted wife,
In ſpending thus your wit in praife of mine,
But now to task the tasker: good Boyet,
You are not ignorant, all-telling fame
Doth noyſe abroad Navarre hath made a vow,
Till painfull ſtudy ſhall out-wear three yeares,
No woman may approach his filent Court :
Therefore to's feemeth ita needfull courſe ;
Before we enter his forbidden Gates,
To know his pleasure, and in that behalfe
Bold of your worthineſſe, we fingle you,
As our beſt moving fair Solicitor :
Tell him the Daughter of the King of France,
On serious buſineſſe, craving quick disſpatch,
Importuncs perſonall conference with his Grace,
Haſt, ſignifie ſo much, while we attend,
Like humble vifag'd Sutors his high will.

Boyet. Proud of employment, willingly I go. Exit.
Prin. All pride is willing pride, and your's is fo:
Who are the Votaries my loving Lords, that are vow-
fellows with this virtuous Duke ?
Lor. Longavile is one.
Prin. Know you the man ?
1 Lad. I knew him Madam at a Marriage Feaſt,
Between L. Perigort, and the beauteous heir
Of Fagues Faulconbridge ſolemnized.

In Normandy ſaw I this Longavile,
A man of ſoveraign parts he is eſteem'd:
Well fitted in the Arts, glorious in Armes:
Nothing becomes him ill that he would well,
The onely foul of his fair virtues gloſſe,
(If virtues gloſſe will ſtain with any foil,)
Is a ſharp wit match'd with too blunt a will :
Whole edge hath power to cut, whole ſwill fill wills,
It should none ſpare that come within his power.

Prin. Some merry mocking Lord, is't fo ?

Lad. 1. They ſay fo moſt, that moſt his humours know.
Prin. Such ſhort liv'd wits doe wither as they grow.
Who are the reſt ?

2.Lad, The young Dumain, a well accompliſh'd youth,

Of all that Virtue love, for Virtue loved,
Moſt power to doe moſt harm, leaſt knowing ill :
For he hath wit to make an ill ſhape good,
And ſhape to win grace though he had no wit,
I faw him at the Duke Alanzoes once,
And much too little of that good I faw,
Is my report to his great worthineſſe.

Rofa. Another of theſe Students at that time,
Was there with him, as I have heard a truth.

Birone they call him but, a merrier man,
Wthin the limit of becoming mirth,
I never ſpent an hours talk withall,
His eye begets occafion for wit,
For every objeſt that the one doth catch,
The other turns to a mirth-moving jeſt.
Which his fair tongue (conceits Expofitor)
Delivers in ſuch apt and gracious words,
That aged caresplay Trewant at his Tales,
And younger hearings are quite ravified.
So fweet and voluble is his difcourſe.

Prin. God bleſſe my Ladies, are they all in love ?
That every one her own hath garniſhed,
With ſuch bedecking ornaments of praife.

Ma. Here comes Boyet.

Enter Boyet.

Prin. Now, what admittance Lord ?

Boyet. Navarre had notice of your fair approach;
And he and his Competitors in oath,
Were all addreſt to meet you gentle Lady
Before I came : Marry thus I have learnt,
He rather means to lodge you in the field,
Like one that comes here to beſeige his Court,
Than feek a diſpenſation for his oath :
To let you enter his unpeopled houſe.

Enter Navarre, Longavile, Dumain, and Birone.

Here comes Navarre.

Nav. Fair Princeſſe, welcome to the Court of Navarre.

Prin. Fair I giye you back again , and welcome I
have not yet : the roof of this Court is too high to be
yours, and welcome to the wide fields, too bafe to be
mine.

Nav. You ſhall be welcome Madam to my Court.

Prin. I will be welcome then, Conduct me thither.

Na. Hear me dear Lady, I have ſworn an oath.

Prin. Our Lady help my Lord, he'll be forſworn.

Nav. Not for the world, fair Madam, by my will.

Prin. Why, will ſhall break it will, and nothing eſſe.

Nav. Your Ladisſip is ignorant what it is.

Prin. Were my Lord ſo, his ignorance were wife,
Where now his knowledge muſt prove ignorance.
I heat your Grace hath ſworn out Houſe-keeping :

Tis deadly fin to keep that oath my Lord,

And fin to break it :

But pardon me, I am too ſudden bold,

To teach a Teacher ill beſeemeth me.

Vouchſaſe to read the purpofe of my comming,

And ſuddenly reſolve me in my ſuit.

Nav. Madam, I will, if ſuddenly I may.

Prin. You will the ſooner that I were away,
For you'll prove perjur'd if you make me ſlay.

Bir. Did not I dance with you in Brabant once ?

Kofa. Did not I dance with you in Brabant once?

Bir.

Lov's Labour's lost.

129

Sir, your penny-worth is good, and your Goofe be fat.
To fell a bargain well is as cunning as faft loofe:

Let me see a fat Lenvooy, I that's a fat Goofe,

Arma. Come hither, come hither :

How did this argument begin ?

Boy. By faying that a Coſtard was broken in a ſhin.

Then cal'd you for a Lenvooy.

Clow. True, and I for a Plantan :

Thus came your argument in :

Then the Boyes fat Lenvooy, the Goofe that you bought,
And he ended the market.

Arma. But tell me : How was there a Coſtard broken
in a ſhin ?

Pig. I will tell you fencibly,

Clow. Thou haſt no feeling of it Moth,

I will ſpeak that Lenvooy.

I Coſtard running out, that was safely within,

Fell over the threshold, and broke my ſhin.

Arm. We will talk no more of this matter.

Clow. Till there be more matter in the ſhin.

Arm. Sirra Coſtard, I will infranchife thee,

Clow. O, marry me to one Francis, I ſmell ſome Len-
voy, some Goofe in this.

Arm. By my ſweet foul, I mean, fetting thee at liber-
ty. Enfreedingom thy perfon; thou wert Immured, re-
frained, captivated, bound.

Clow. True, true, and now you will be my purgation,
and let me loofe.

Arm. I give thee thy liberty, ſet thee from durance, and
in lieu thereof, impoſe on thee nothing but this: Bear
this ſignificant to the countrey Maid Faquenetta: there
is remuneration, for the beſt ward of mine honors, is re-
warding my dependants. Moth, follow. Exit.

Pag. Like the ſequell I.

Signior Coſtard adieu.

Clow. My ſweet ounce of mans fleſh, my in-cony Jew:
Now will I look to his remuneration.

Remuneration, O that's the Latine word for three-far-
things: There farthings remuneration, What's the price
of this yncle? i. de. no. I'll give you a remuneration: Why?
It carries its remuneration: Why? It is a fairer name then
a French-Crown. I will never buy and ſell out of this
word.

Enter Birone.

Bir. O my good knave Coſtard, exceedingly well met,

Clow. Pray you fir, How much Carnation Ribbon may
a man buy for a remuneration ?

Bir. What is a remuneration ?

Coſt. Marry fir, half penny farthing.

Bir. O, Why then three farthings worth of Silk.

Coſt. I thank your worſtship, God be wy you!

Bir. O stay flave, I muſt employ thee :

As thou wilt win my favour, good my knave,
Doe one thing for me that I ſhall intreat.

Clow. When would you have it done fir ?

Bir. O this after-noon.

Clow. Well, I will do it fir: Fare you well.

Bir. O thou knoweft not what it is.

Clow. I ſhall know fir, when I have done it.

Bir. Why villain, thou muſt know it firſt.

Clow. I will come to your worſhip to morrow morning.

Bir. It muſt be done this after-noon,

Hark flave, it is but this:

The Princeſs comes to hunt here in the Park,

And in her train there is a gentle Lady :

When tongues ſpeak w'eetly, then they name her name,

And Rofatine they call her, ask for her :

And to her white hand fee that doe commend

This feal'd up counſell. There's thy guerdon: goe.

Clo. Guerdon, O ſweet Guerdon, better then remun-
ration, a leavenpence-farthing better: moſt ſweet guer-
don. I will do it fir in print: guerdon, remuneration.

Exit.

Bir. O ! and I forſtooth in love,

I that have been loves whip ?

A very beadle to a humorous ſigh: A Critick.

Nay a night-watch Confitable.

A dominiering pedant o're the Boy,

Then whom no mortall ſo magnificent.

This wimpled, whyning, purblind waiward Boy,

This ſignior Junios gyant dwarſe, don Cupid,

Regent of Love-rimes, Lord of folded armes,

Th'annointed foveraign of ſighes and groans :

Liedge of all loyterers, and malecontents :

Dread Prince of Plackets, King of Codpeeces.

Sole Emperator and great general

Of trotting Parrators (O my little heart.)

And I to be a Corporall of his field,

And wear his colours like a Tumblers hoope ?

What ? I love! I ſue! I ſeek a wife,

A woman, that is like a Germane Clock,

Still a repairing: ever out of frame,

And never going aright, being but a Watch :

But being watch'd, that it may ſtill go right.

Nay to be perjur'd, which is worſt of all :

And among three, to love the worſt of all,

A whitely wanton with a velvet brow.

With two pitch balls ſuck in her face for eyes.

I, and by heaven, one that will do the deed,

Though Argus were her Eunuch and her guard,

And I to fight for her ! to watch for her !

To pray for her, go to : it is a plague

That Cupid will impoſe for my neglect.

Of his almighty dreadfull little might,

Well, I will love, write, ſigh, pray, ſue, and groan,

Some men muſt love my Lady, and ſome Joan.

Actus Quartus.

Enter the Princeſſa, Forreſter, her Ladies,
and her Lords.

Prin. Was that the King that ſpud his horse ſo hard,

Against the ſeep unrifing of the hill ?

Boy, I know not, but I think it was not he,

Prin. Who e're a was, a ſhew'd a mounting minde :

Well Lords, to day we ſhall have our dispatch,

On Saturday we will return to France.

Then Forreſter my friend, Where is the Buth

That we muſt stand and play the murtherer in ?

For. Hereby upon the edge of yonder Coppice,

A Stand where you may make the faireſt ſhoote.

Prin. I thank my beauty, I am fair that ſhoot,

And thereupon thou ſpeak it the faireſt ſhoote.

For. Pardon me, for I meant not ſo.

Prin. What, what ? Firſt praeſe me, then again ſay no.

O ſhort liv'd pride. Not fair ? alack for woe.

For Yes

["Love's Labour's loſt.", "134", "All three of you, to be thus much o're ſhot ?", "You found his Moth, the King your Moth did fee :", "But I a Beam doe find in each of three.", "O what a Scene of fool'ry have I seen,", "Of fighs, of groans, of forrow, and of teen :", "O me, with what ftrict patience have I lat,", "To fee a King transformed to a Gnat ?", "To fee great Hercules whipping a Gigge,", "And profound Solomon tuning a Jygge ?", "And Neſtor play at puſh-pin with the Boyes,", "And C vitick Tymon laugh at idle toyes.", "Where lies thy grief ? O tell me good Dumain.", "And gentle Longavile, where lies thy pain ?", "And where my Lieges ? all about the breast.", "A Candle hoa !", "Kin. Too bitter is thy jeſt,", "Are we betrayed thus to thy over-view ?", "Bir. Not you by me, but I betrayed to you.", "I that am honest. I that hold it ſin", "To break the vow I am engaged in :", "I am betray'd by keeping company", "With men, like men of ſtrange inconſtancy.", "When ſhall you fee me write a thing in rime ?", "Or groan for Joan ? or ſpend a minutes time,", "In pruning me? when ſhall you hear that I will Praife a\nhand, a foot, a face, an eye: a gate, a ſtate, a brow, a\nbreast, a waſſe, a legge, a limme.", "Kin. Soft, whither away ſo faſt ?", "A true man, or a thief, that gallops ſo,", "Bir. I poſt from Love, good Lover let me go.", "Enter Faquenetta, and Clown.", "Jaque. God bleſſe the King.", "Kin. What Prefent haſt thou there ?", "Clo. Some certain treaſon.", "Kin. What makes treaſon here ?", "Clo. Nay it makes nothing fir.", "Kin. If it marre nothing neither,", "The treaſon and you go in peace together.", "Jaque. I beſeech your Grace let this Letter be read,", "Our perſon mifdoubts it: it was treaſon he faid.", "Kin. Birone, read it over.", "He reads the Letter.", "Where hadſt thou it.", "Jaque. Of Coſtard.", "Kin. Where hadſt thou it?", "Cost. Of Dun Adramadio, Dun Adramadio.", "Kin. How now, what mean you ? why doſt thou tear it ?", "Bir. A toy my Liege, a toy: your grace needs not fear it.", "Long. It did move him to paffion, and therefore let's hear it.", "Dum. It is Birones writing, and here is his name.", "Bir. Ah you whoreſon loggerhead, you were born to\ndoe me ſhame.", "Bir. Guilty my Lord, guilty: I conſeſſe, I conſeſſe.", "King. What ?", "Bir. That you three fools lackt me fool, to make up the meſſe,", "He, he, and you: and you my Liege, and I,", "Are pick-purſes in Love, and we deferve to dye.", "O diſmiffle this audience, and I ſhall tell you more.", "Dum. Now the number is even.", "Bir. True, true, we are four: will theſe Turtles be gone ?", "Kin. Hence firſ, away.", "Exit.", "Clo. Walk aſide the true folk, and let the traytors ſtay.", "Bir. Sweet Lords, sweet Lovers, O let us embrace:\nAs true we are as fleth and bloud can be.", "The Sea will ebbe and flow, heaven will ſhow his face:", "Young bloud doth not o'cay an old decree.", "We cannot croſſe the cauſe why we were born :", "Therefore of all hands muſt we be forſworn.", "King. What did theſe rent lines ſhow some love of\nthine ?", "(Rafalint,", "Bir. Did they, quoth you ? Who fees the heavenly\nThat (like a rude and ſavage man of Inde.)", "At the first opening of the gorgeous Eaſt,", "Bowes not his vaſſall head, and ſtrooken blind,", "Kiffes the bafe ground with obedient breast ?", "What peremptory Eaſt-fighted eye", "Dares look upon the heaven of her brow,", "That is not blinded by her Majety ?", "Kin. What zeal, what fury hath inſpir'd thee now?", "My Love (her Miltیرis) is a gracious Moon,", "She (an attending Starre) ſcarce ſeen a light.", "Bir. My eyes are then no eyes, nor I Birone.", "O, but for my Love, day would turn to might,", "Of all complexions the cuſd ſoveraignty,", "Doe meet as at a Fair in her fair cheek,", "Where ſeverall Worthies make one dignity,", "Where nothing wants, that want it ſelf doth ſeek,", "Lend me the flouriſh of all gentle tongues,", "Eſe painted Rhetorick, O the needs it not,", "To things of faſe, a ſellers prieſe belongs :", "She paffes prieſe, then prieſe too ſhort doth blot,", "A withered Hermite, ſive ſcore winters worn,", "Might ſhake off ſiſty, looking in her eye :", "Beauty doth varniſh Age, as if new born,", "And gives the Crutch the Cradles iſancys,", "O'tis the Sun that maketh all things ſhine,", "Kin. By heaven, thy Love is black as Ebony.", "Bir. Is Ebony like her ? O word divine ?", "A Wife of ſuch Wood were ſelicity.", "O who can give an oath? where is a book ?", "That I may ſwear beauty doth beauty lack,", "If that ſhe learn not of her eye to look :", "No face is fair that is not full ſo black.", "Kin. O paradoxe, black as the badge of hell,", "The hue of Dungeons, and the School of Night :", "And beauties crſt becomes the heavens well.", "Bir. Devils ſoonſe tempt reſembling ſpirits of light,", "O, if in black my Ladies browes be deckt,", "It mourns, that painting an ufurping hair", "Should ravifh doters with a ſalſe aſpect :", "And therefore is the born to make black fair.", "Her favour turns the ſaſhion of the dayes,", "For native blood is counted painting now :", "And therefore red that would avoid diſpraſe,", "Paints it ſelf black, to imitate her brow.", "Dum. To look like her are Chimney-sweepers black.", "Lon. And ſince her time, are Colliers counted bright,", "King. And Æthiops of their ſweet complexion crack.", "Dum. Dark needs no Candles now, for dark is light.", "Bir. Your Miftreffes dare never come in rain,", "For fear their Colours should be waſht away.", "Kin. 'Twere good youds did: for fir to tell you plain,\nI'le find a fairer face not waſht to day.", "Bir. I'le prove her fair, or talk till dooms-day here.", {"bbox

Love's Labour's lost.

136

Curat. A moſt ſingular and choife Epithet,

Drawn out his Table book.

Ped. He draweth out the thred of his verboſity, ſi-
ner then the flaple of his argument. I abhor ſuch pha-
naticall phantafins, ſuch inſociable and point devife
companions, ſuch rackers of ortagraphy, as to ſpeak douſ
fine, when he ſhould ſay doubt; det, when he ſhould pro-
nounce debt; d e b t, not det: he clepeth a Calfe, Caufe :
halſe, haſe: neighbour vocatur nebour; neigh abre-
viated ne: this is abhominable, which we would call
abominable: it inſinuateth me of infamy: ne intelligis
domine, to make frantick, lunatick ?

Cura. *Laws deo, bene intelligo.*

Peda. Bome boon for boon prefcian, a little ſearch,
'twill ſerve.

Enter Braggart, Boy.

Curat. Vides-<u>ne quis venit ?</u>

Peda. Video, & gandeo.

Brag. Chirra.

Peda. *Quare* Chirra, not Sirra ?

Brag. Men of peace well incountred.

Peda. Moſt military fir, ſalutation.

Boy. They have been at a great feaſt of Languages,
and ſtole the ſeraps.

Clow. O they have liv'd long on the almes-basket of
words. I marvell thy Maſter hath not eaten thee for a
word, for thou art not ſo long by the head as honorifica-
bilitudinitibus: Thou art eafier ſwallowed then a flap-
dragon.

Page. Peace, the peale begins.

Brag. Monſieur, are you not lettered ?

Page. Yes, yes, he teaches boyes the Horn-book:

What is Ab ſpeld backward with the horne on his head ?

Peda. Ba, *pueritia* with a horn added.

Pag. Ba moſt filly Sheep, with a horn: you hear his
learning.

Ped. *Quis quis*, thou Conſonant ?

Pag. The laſt of the ſive Vowels, if You repeat them,
or the fifth if I.

Ped. I will repeat them : a e I.

Pag. The Sheep, the other two concludes it ou.

Brag. Now by the ſalt wave of the mediteraneum, a
ſweet tutch, a quick venew of wit, ſnip ſnap, quick and
home, it rejoyceth my intelleſt, true wit.

Page. Offered by a child to an old man: which is
wit-old.

Ped. What is the figure ? What is the figure ?

Page. Hornes.

Ped. Thou disputes't like an Infant: goe, whip thy
Gigge.

Pag. Lend me your Horn to make one, and I will
whip about your infamy *unum cita* a gigge of a Cuckolds
horne.

Clown. And I had but one penny in the world, thou
ſhouldſt have it to buy Ginger-bread: Hold, there is the
very Remuneration I had of thy maſter, thou halfpenny
purſe of wit, thou Pidgeon-egge of diſcretion. O, and the
heavens were ſo pleafed, that thou wert but my Baſtard ;
What a joyfull father wouldſt thou make me ? Goe to,
thou haſt it *ad dungil*, at the fingers ends, as they ſay.

Ped. Oh, I ſmell falſe Latine, *dunghel* for *ungemem*.

Brag. Artſ-man *preambulat*, we will be ſingled from
the barbarous. Doe you not educate youth at the Charge-
houſe on the top of the Mountain ?

Ped. Or Mons the hill.;

Brag. At your ſweet pleaſure, for the Mountain.

Ped. I doe ſans question.

Brag. Sir, it is the Kings moſt ſweet pleaſure and af-
fection, to congratulate the Princesſe at her Pavilion, in
the poſteriors of this day, which the rude multitude call
the after-noon,

Ped. The poſterior of the day, moſt generous fir, is lia-
ble, congruent, and meaſurable for the after-noon: the
word is well culd, choice, ſweet, and apt I doe aſſure you
fir, I do aſſure,

Brag. Sir, the King is a noble Gentleman, and my fa-
miliar, I doe aſſure ye very good friend: for what is in-
ward between us, let it paffe. I doe beſeech thee, remem-
ber thy curſeſi. I beſeech thee apparell thy head : and
among other importunate and moſt ſerious deſignes, and
of great import indeed too: but let that paffe, for I muſt
tell thee it will płaſe his Grace (by the world) ſome-
time to lean upon my poor ſhoulder, and with his royal
finger thus dally with my excrement, with my muſtachioj,
but, ſweet heart, let that paffe. By the world I recount
no ſable, ſome certain ſpecial honours it płaſeth his
Greatneſſe to impart to *Armado* a ſouldier, a man of
travell, that hath ſeen the world : but let that paffe;
the very all of all is: but, ſweet heart, I doe implore ſe-
crecy, (that the King would have me prefent the Prin-
ceffe (that ſweet chuck) with ſome delightſull ſententation,
or ſhow, or pageant, or antick, or fire-work: Now,
underſtanding that the Curate and your ſweet ſelf are
good at ſuch eruptions, and ſodain breaking out of
mirth (as it were) I have acquainted you withall, to the
end to crave your aſſiſtance.

Ped. Sir, you ſhall prefent before her the Nine Wor-
thies. Sir *Holofernes*, as concerning ſome entertainment
of time, ſome ſhow in the poſterior of this day, to be
rendred by our aſſiſants at the Kings command: and
this moſt gallant, iſſufrate and learned Gentleman, be-
fore the Princesſe: I ſay none ſo fit as to prefent the
Nine Worthies,

Curat. Where will you find men worthy enough to
prefent them ?

Ped. *Tofua*, your ſelf: my ſelf, and this gallant gen-
tleman *Judas Machabeus*, this Swain (because of his
great limme or joint) ſhall paffe *Pompey* the great, the
Page *Hercules*.

Brag. Pardon fir, error: he is not quantity enough
for that Worthies thumb, he is not ſo big as the end of
his Club.

Peda. Shall I have audience ? he ſhall prefent *Her-
cules* in minority : his *enter* and *exit* ſhall be ſtrangling
a Snake; and I will have an Apology for that purpote.

Pag. An excellent device: ſo if any of the audience
hifs, you may cry, Well done *Hercules*, now thou cruſhelt
the Snake; that is the way to make an offence gracious,
though ſew have the grace to do it.

Brag. For the reſt of the Worthies ?

Ped. I will play three my ſelf.

Pag. Thrice worthy Gentleman.

Brag. Shall I tell you a thing ?

Ped. We attend.

Brag. We will have, if this ſadge not, an Antique, I
beſeech you follow.

Ped. Via good-man *Dull*, thou haſt ſpoken no word
all this while.

Dull. Nor underſood none neither fir.

Ped. Alone, we will employ thee.

Dull. Ile make one in a dance, or ſo: or will play on

Love's Labour's loft.

137

on the taber to the Worchies, and let them dance the hey.

Ped. Moft Dull, honest Dull, to our sport away. Exit.

Enter Princecs, and Ladies.

Prin. Sweet hearts, we shall be rich ere we depart,
If fairings come thus plentifully in.

A Lady wal'd about with Diamonds: look you, what I
have from the King.

Rosa. Madam, came nothing else along with that ?

Prin. Nothing but this: yes, as much love in Rime,
As would be cram'd up in a fleet of paper,
Writ on both fides the leaf, margent and all,
That he was fain to feal on Cupids name.

Rosa. That was the way to make his god-head wax,

For he hath been five thoufand years a boy.

Kath. I, and a fhewd unhappy gallows too.

Rosa. You'll ne're be friends with him, a kild your fitter.

Kath. He made her melancholly, fad and heavy,
And to ſhe died: had ſhe been light like you,
Of fuch a merry nimble ftirring ſpirit,
She might have been a Grandam ere ſhe died,
And ſo may you : For a light heart lives long.

Rosa. What's your dark meaning mouſe of this light
word ?

Kath. A light condition in a beauty dark.

Rosa. We need more light to find your meaning out.

Kath. You'll mar the light by taking it in ſnuffe :
Therefore I'le darkly end the argument.

Rosa. Look what you doe, you doe it ſtill i'th dark,

Kath. So do you not, for you are a light Wench.

Rosa. Indeed I weigh not you, and therefore light.

Kath. You weigh me not, O that's you care not for me.

Rosa. Great reafon: for paſt care, is ſtill paſt cure.

Prin. Well bandied both, a fet of wit well played.

But Rofaline, you have a refale too ?

Who ſent it ? and what is it ?

Rof. I would you knew.

And if my face were but as fair as yours,

My favour were as great, but were ſwithefs this,

Nay, I have Verſes too, I thank Birone,
The numbers true, and were the numbring too,

I were the faireſt goddeſs on the ground,

I am compar'd to twenty thouſand faires.

O he hath drawn my picture in his letter,

Prin. Any thing like ?

Rof. Much in the letters, nothing in the prajeſe.

Prin. Beauteous as Ink: a good conclusion.

Kath. Fair as a text B. in a Copy book.

Rof. Ware penſils. How ? let me not die your debtor,

My red Dominicall, my golden letter.

O that your face were full of Oes,

Prin. A pox of that jeſt, and I beſhrew all ſnowſons :

But Katharine, what was ſent to you

From fair Dumain?

Kath. Madam, this Glove,

Prin. Did he not ſend you twain ?

Kath. Yes Madam: and moreover,

Some thouſand Verſes of a faithfull Lover.

A huge tranſlation of hypocriſe,

Vildly compil'd, profound ſimplicity.

Mar. This, and theſe Pearls, to me ſent Longavile.

The Letter is too long by halſe a mile.

Prin. I think no leſs: Doſt thou not wifh in heart

The Chain were longer, and the Letter ſhort ?

Mar. I, or I would theſe hands might never part.

Prin. We are wife girls, to mock our Lovers ſo.

Rof. They are worſe fools to purchase mocking ſo.

That fame Birone I'le torture ere I goe.

O that I knew he were but in by th'week,

How I would make him fawn, and beg, and ſeek,

And wait the ſeafon, and obſerve the times,

And ſpend his prodiſall wits in bootleſs rimes,

And ſhape his ſervice all to my beheſts,

And make him proud to make me proud with jeſts,

So pertaunt like would I o'reſway his ſlate,

That he ſhould be my fool, and I his fate,

Prin. None are ſo ſurely caught, when they are catch'd,

As wit turn'd fool: folly in wifdom hatch'd,

Hath wifdoms warrant, and the help of School,

And wits own grace to grace a learned Fool ?

Rof. The bloud of youth burns not in ſuch ekeſts,

As gravities revolt to wantonneſs.

Mar. Folly in fools bears not ſo ſtrange a note,

As fool'ry in the Wife, when wit doth doth :

Since all the power thereof it doth apply,

To prove by Wit, worth in ſimplicity.

Enter Boyet.

Prin. Here comes Boyet, and mirth in his face.

Boy. O, I am ſtab'd with ſaugh, Where's her Grace?

Prin. Thy news Boyet ?

Boy. Prepare Madam, prepare.

Arme Wenches arme, incanteurs mounted are

Aginſt your Peace, Love doth approach, diſguis'd :

Armed in arguments, you'll be ſurpris'd.

Muſter your Wits, ſtand in your own defence,

Or hide your heads like Cowards, and fly hence.

Prin. Saint Dennis, to S. Cupid: What are they

That chargeth their breath againſt us ? Say ſcout, lay.

Boy. Under the coole ſhade of a Syccamore,

I thought to cloſe mine eyes ſome halſe an houre :

When loe to interrupt my purpos'd ſreſt,

Toward that ſhade I might behold addreſt

The King and his companions: warily

i hole into a neighbour thicket by,

And over-heard, what you ſhall over-hear :

That by and by diſguis'd they will be here.

Their Herald is a pretty knavish Page,

That well by heart hath con'd his embaſſage,

Aſtion and accent did they teach him there,

Thus muſt thou ſpeak, and thus thy body bear.

And ever and anon they made a doubt,

Prefence maſjeſticall would put him out :

For, quoth the King, an Angell ſhalt thou ſee :

Yet fear not thou, but ſpeak audaciously.

The Boy reply'd, an Angell is not evill :

I ſhould have feard her, had ſhe been a devill,

With that all laugh'd, and clap'd him on the shoulder,

Making the bold wag by their praiſes bolder.

One rub'd his elbow thus, and fleer'd, and ſwore,

A better ſpeech was never ſpoke before.

Another with his finger, and his thumb,

Cry'd via, we will doo't, come what will come.

The third he caperd and cryed, All goes well,

The fourth turn'd on the toe, and down he fell :

With that they all did tumble on the ground,

With ſuch a zealous ſaughter, ſo profound,

That in this ſpleen ridiculous, appears,

To check their folly paffions, ſolemn tears.

Prin. But what, but what, come they to viſit us ?

Boy. They doe, they doe; and are apparel'd thus,

Like Mufcovites, or Ruffians, and I guels,

Their purpope is to parlee, court, and dance,

M 3

And

Love's Labour's loft.

138

And every one his Love-fear will advance
Unto his several Miftreffe : Which they'll know
By favours several, which they did beftow.

Prin. And will they fo? the Gallants shall be taskt:
For Ladies; we will every one be maskt :

And not a man of them shall have the grace
Defpight of fute, to fee a Ladies face,

Hold Rofaline, this Favour thou fhalt wear,

And then the King will court thee for his Dear :
Hold, take thou this my fweet, and give me thine,
So fhall Biron take me for Rofaline.

And change your Favours too, fo fhall your Loves
Wooe contrary, deceiv'd by thefe removes.

Rof. Come on then, wear the favours moft in fight.

Kath. But in this changing, What is your intent ?

Prin. The effect of my intent is to croffe theirs:

They doe it: but in mocking merriment,
And mock for mock is onely my intent.

Their several counteis they unbofome fhall

To Loves miftook, and fo be mockt withall:

Upon the next occasion that me meet

With Vifages displayed to talke and greet.

Rof. But shall we dance, if they defire us to't ?

Prin. No, to the death we will not move a foot,

Nor to their pen'd fpeech render we no grace:

But while 'tis ftoke, each turn away her face.

Boy. Why that contempt will kill the keepers heart,

And quite divorce his memory from his part.

Prin. Therefore I doe it, and I make no doubt,
The reft will ne're come in, if he be out.

There's no fuch fport, as fport by fport orrethroned :

To make theirs ours, and ours none but our own;

So fhall we flay mocking entended game,

And they well mockt, depart away with flame. Sound.

Boy. The Trumpet founds, be maskt, the maskers
come.

Enter Blackmoors with mufick, the Boy with a fpeech,
and the reft of the Lords difguifed.

Pag. All haile, the richeft Beauties on the earth.

Bir. Beauties no richer then rich Taffata.

Pag. A holy parcell of the faireft dames that ever
turn'd their backs to mortall viewes.

The Ladies turn their back to him.

Bir. Their eyes villain, their eyes.

Pag. That ever turn'd their eyes to mortall viewes.

Out.

Bir. True, out indeed.

Pag. Out of your favours heavenly fpirit, vouchsafe

Not to behold.

Bir. Once to behold, rogue.

Pag. Once to behold with your Sunne beamed eyes,

With your Sunne beamed eyes.

Bir. They will not anſwer to that Epithite,

You were beſt call it Daughter-beamed eyes.

Pag. They doe not mark me, and that brings me out.

Bir. Is this your perſectneſſe ? be gone you rogue.

Rof. What would theſe ſtrangers?

Know their minds Boyet.

If they do ſpeak our language, 'tis our will

That fome plain man recount their purpofes,

Know what they would ?

Boy. What would you with the Princes ?

Bir. Nothing but peace, and gentle viſitation,

Rof. What would they, ſay they ?

Boy. Nothing but peace, and gentle viſitation,

Rof. Why that they have, and bid them fo be gone,

Boy. She fayes you have it, and you may be gone.

Kin. Say to her we haue meaſur'd many miles,

To tread a Meaſure with you on the graſſe.

Boy. They ſay that: they have meaſur'd many a mile,
To tread a Meaſure with you on this graſſe.

Rof. It is not fo. Ask them how many inches
Is in one mile ? If they have meaſur'd many,
The meaſure then of one is eafily told.

Boy. If to come hither, you have meaſur'd miles,
And many miles: the Princeſſe bids you tell,
How many inches doth fill up one mile ?

Bir. Tell her we meaſure them by weary ſteps.

Boy. She hears her ſelf.

Rof. How many weary ſteps

Of many weary miles you have ore-gone,

Are numbred in the travell of one mile ?

Bir. We number nothing that we ſpend for you,
Our duty is fo rich, fo infinite,

That we may doe it ſtill without accompt.

Vouchſafe to ſhow the ſunſhine of your face,

That we (like favages) may worſhip it.

Rof. My face is but a Moon and clouded too,

Kin. Bleſſed are clouds, to doe as ſuch clouds doe,

Vouchſafe bright Moon on theſe thy ſtarres to ſhine,
(Thofe clouds removed) upon our watery cyne,

Rof. O vain petitioner, beg a greater matter,
Thou now requeſts but Moonſhine in the water,

Kin. Then in our meaſure, vouchſafe but one change:
Thou bidſt me beg, this begging is not ſtrange.

Rof. Play mufick then: nay you muſt doe it ſoon,
Not yet no dance: thus change I like the Moon.

Kin. Will you not dance: How come you thus e-
ſtranged?

Rof. You took the Moon at full, but now ſhe's
changed ?

Kin. Yet ſtill ſhe is the Moon, and I the Man.

Rof. The mufick playes, vouchſafe ſome motion to it:

Our eares vouchſafe it.

Kin. But your legges ſhould doe it.

Rof. Since you are ſtrangers, and come here by chance,
We'll not be nice, take hands, we will not dance.

Kin. Why take you hands then ?

Rof. Onely to part friends.

Curtſie ſweet hearts, and ſo the Meaſure ends.

Kin. More meaſure of this meaſure; be not nice.

Rof. We can afford no more to ſuch a price,

Kin. Prife your ſelves then: what buyes your company?

Rof. Your abſence only.

Kin. That can never be.

Rof. Then cannot we be bought: and ſo adieut,
Twice to your Vifor, and half once to you.

Kin. If you deny to dance, let's hold more chat.

Rof. In private then.

Kin. I am beſt pleas'd with that.

Bir. White handed Miftris, one ſweet word with thee.

Prin. Hony, and Milk, and Suger: there is three.

Bir. Nay then two treyes, and if you grow ſo nice

Methegline, Wort, and Malmſey; well run dice:

There's half a dozen ſweets.

Prin. Seventh ſweet adue, ſince you can cog.
I play no more with you.

Bir. One word in ſecret.

Prin. Let it not be ſweet.

Bir. Thou grieſt ſt my gall.

Prin.

Love's Labour's lost.

Prin. Gall, bitter.

Bir. Therefore meet.

Du. Will you vouchsafe with me to change a word?

Mar. Name it.

Dum. Fairie Lady :

Mar. Say you so? Fair Lord ;

Take you that for your fair Lady.

Dum. Pleafe it you,

As much in private, and Ile bid adieu.

Mar. What, was your wizard made without a tongue?

Long. I know the reafon Lady why you ask.

Mar. O for your reafon, quickly fir, I long.

Long. You have a double tongue within your mask.

And would afford my speechleffe wizard half.

Mar. Veale quoth the Dutch-man : is not Veale a
Calfe ?

Long. A Calf fair Lady ?

Mar. No, a fair Lord Calf.

Long. Let's part the word,

Mar. No, Ile not be your half :

Take all and wean it, it may prove an Oxe.

Long. Look how you But to your self in thefe sharp
mocks.

Will you give horns chaft Lady ? Doe not so.

Mar. Then die a Calf before your hornes doe grow.

Long. One word in private with you ere I die.

Mar. Bleat foftly then, the Butcher hears you cry.

Boy. The tongues of mocking wenches are as keen

As is the Razors edge, invifible :

Cutting a smaller hair then may be ſeen,

Above the ſenſe of fence ſo ſenſible :

Seemeth their conference, their conceits have wings,

Fleeter then arrows, bullets, wind, thought, swifter things.

Ros. Not one word more my maids, break off, break off.

Bir. By heaven, all dry beaten with pure ſcoffe.

Kin. Fare-well madde Wenches, you have ſimple

wits.

Exeunt.

Prin. Twenty adieus my frozen Muſcovites.

Are theſe the breed of wits ſo wondred at ?

Boy. Tapers they are, with your ſweet breath's puſh
out.

Ros. Well-liking wits they have, groſſe, groſſe, fat, fat.

Prin. O povertie in witt, Kingly poor flout.

Will they not (think you) hang themſelves to night ?

Or ever but in vizards ſhew their faces :

This pert Birone was out of count'nance quite.

Ros. O ! They were all in lamentable cafes.

The King was weeping ripe for a good word,

Prin. Birone did ſwear himſelf out of all ſuite.

Mar. Dumaine was at my ſervice, and his ſword :

No point (quoth I:) my fervant ſtraight was mute.

Kat. Lord Longavile ſaid I came ore his heart :

And trow you what he call'd me ?

Prin. Qualm perhaps.

Kat. Yes in good faith.

Prin. Goe fickneſſe as thou art.

Ros. Well, better wits have worn plain ſtature caps,

But will you hear ; the King is my love ſworn.

Prin. And quick Birone hath plighted faith to me.

Kat. And Longavile was for my ſervice born.

Mar. Dumaine is mine as ſure as bark on tree.

Boy. Madam, and pretty miſtreſſes give care,

Immediately they will again be here

In their own ſhapes : for it can never be,

They will diſgeſt this harſh indignity.

Prin. Will they return ?

Boy. They will, they will, God knows,

And leap for joy, though they are lame with blows:

Therefore change Favours, and when they repair,

Blow like ſweet Rofes, in this summer aire.

Prin. How blow ? how blow ? Speak to be under-
food.

Boy. Fair Ladies maskt, are Rofes in their bud :

Difmaskt, their damaskt ſweet commixture ſhown,

Are Angels vailing clouds, or Rofes blown.

Prin. Ayaunt perplexity: What ſhall we do,
If they return in their own ſhapes to wooe ?

Ros. Good Madam, if by me you'll be advis'd,

Let's mock them ſtill as well known as diſguis'd :

Let us complain to them what fools were here,

Diſguis'd like Muſcovites in ſhaptleſſe gear :

And wonder what they were, and to what end

Their ſhallow ſhowes, and prologue vildely pen'd,

And their rough carriage to ridiculous,

Should be preſented at our Tent to us.

Boy. Ladies, withdraw: the gallants are at hand.

Prin. Whip to our Tents, as Roes runs ore the Land.

Exeunt.

Enter the King and the reſt.

King. Fair fir, God ſave you. Where's the Princeſſe ?

Boy. Gone to her Tent.

Please it your Majefty command me any ſervice to her ?

King. That the vouchſafe me audience for one word.

Boy. I will, and ſo will ſhe, I know my Lord. Exit.

Boy. This fellow picks up wit as Pigeons pafe,

And utters it again, when ſove doth pafe,

He is Wits Pedler, and retaileſſ his Wares

At Wakes, and Waffels, Meetings, Markets, Faires;

And what fell by groſſe, the Lord doth know,

Have not the grace to grace it with ſuch ſhow.

This Gallant pins the Wenches on his ſleeve:

Had he bin Adam, he had tempted Eve.

He can carve too, and lifpe : Why this is he,

That kiſt away his hand in courteſe,

This is the Ape of Fortune, Monſieur the nice,

That when he playes at Tables, chides the Dice

In honourable tearmes: Nay he can ſing

A mean moſt meaning, and in Uſhering

Mend him who can : the Ladies call him ſweet:

The ſtaires as he treads on them kiffle his feet.

This is the flower that ſmiles on every one,

To ſhew his teeth as white as Whale his bone.

And confidences that will not die in debt,

Pay him the duty of hony-tongued Boyer.

Kin. A blifter on his ſweet tongue with my heart,

That put Armadoes Page out of his part.

Enter Ladies.

Bir. See where it comes. Behaviour what wert thou,

Till this mad-man ſhew'd thee ? And what art thou now ?

Kin. All haile ſweet madam, and fair time of day.

Prin. Fair in all Haile is foule, as I conceive.

Kin. Conſtue my ſpeeches better if you may.

Prin. Then with me better, I will give you leave,

Kin. We came to viſit you, and purpofe now

To lead you to our Court, vouchſafe it then.

Prin. This field shall hold me, and ſo hold your vow:

Nor God, nor I, delights in perjur'd men.

Kin. Rebuke me not for that which you provoke:

The

["Love's Labour's lost.", "The vertue of your eye must break my oath.", "Pr. You nickname vertue: vice you should have spoke:\nFor vertues office never breaks men's trotn.", "Now by my maiden honour, yet as pure", "As the untuited Lilly, I protest,", "A world of torments though I should endure,", "I would not to be your houſes gueſt:", "So much I hate a breaking cauſe to be", "Of heavenly oaths, vow'd with integrity.", "Kin. O you have liv'd in defolation here,", "Unfeen, unvifited, much to our ſhame.", "Prin. Not so my Lord, it is not so I ſwear,", "We have had pastimes here, and pleafant game,", "A meſle of Ruffians left us but of late.", "Kin. How Madam? Ruffians?", "Prin. I in truth, my Lord.", "Trim gallants, full of Courtſhip and of ſtate.", "Rof. Madam ſpeak true. It is not so my Lord:", "My Lady (to the manner of the dayes)", "In curſeſe gives undefervising praeife.", "We four indeed confronted were with four", "In Ruffian habit: Here they ſtayed an hour,", "And talk'd apace: and in that hour (my Lord)", "They did not bleſſe us with one happy word.", "I dare not call them fools; but I think,", "When they are thirſty, fools would ſain have drink,", "Bir. This jeſt is dry to me. Fair, gentle, ſweet,", "Your wit makes wife things fooliſh, when we greet", "With eyes beſt feeing, heavens ſiery eye,", "By light we lole light: your capacity", "Is of that nature, that to your huge ſtore", "Wife things seem fooliſh, and rich things but poor,", "Rof. This proves you wife and rich: for in my eye-", "Bir. I am a fool, and full of poverty.", "Rof. But that you take what doth to you belong,", "It were a fault to ſnatcht words from my tongue.", "Bir. O, I am yours and all that I poſſeſſe.", "Rof. All the fool mine.", "Bir. I cannot give you leſſe.", "Rof. Which of the Vizards was it that you wore ?", "Bir. Where ? when ? What Vizard?", "Why demand you this ?", "Rof. There, then, that vizard, that ſuperfluous eafe,", "That hid the worſe, and ſhew'd the better face.", "Kin. We are defried,", "They'll mock us now down right.", "Duk. Let us conſeſſe and turn it to a jeſt.", "Prin. Anaz'd my Lord ? Why looks your Highneſſe\nfadde ?", "Rof. Help hold his brows, he'll ſ wound: why look you\npale ?", "Sea-fick I think, comming from Mufcovy.", "Bir. Thus pour the ſtarres down plagues for perjury.", "Can any face of braſſe hold longer out ?", "Here stand I, Lady, dart thy skill at me,", "Bruſe me with ſcorn, confound me with a flout,", "Thrust thy ſharp wit quite through my ignorance;", "Cut me to pieces with thy keen conceit :", "And I will with thee never more to dance,", "Nor never more in Ruffian habit waite.", "O ! never will I truſt to ſpeeches pen'd,", "Nor to the motion of a Schoole-boyes tongue,", "Nor never come in vizards to my friend,", "Nor wooe in rime like a blind-harpers ſong,", "Taffata phraſes, ſilken tears, and precife,", "Three-pil'd Hyperboles, ſpruce affection ;", "Figures pedanticall, theſe ſummer ſlyes,\nHave blown me full of maggot ſoſentation,\nI doe forſwear them, and I here protest,", "By this, white Glove (how white the hand, God knows)\nHenceforth my wooing mind ſhall be expreſt", "In ruffet yeas, and honest kerſie noes.", "And to begin Wench, ſo God help me law,", "My love to thee is found, ſans crack or flaw.", "Rof. ſans, ſans, I pray you.", "Bir. Yet I have a trick", "Of the old rage: bear with me, I am ſick.", "Ile leave it by degrees: both, let us fee,", "Write Lord have mercy on us, on that three,", "They are inſected, in their hearts it lies :", "They have the plague, and caught it of your eyes :", "Theſe Lords are vilſed, you are not free:", "For the Lords tokens on you both I fee.", "Prin. No, they are free that gave theſe tokens to us,", "Bir. Our ſtates are forfeit, leek not to undoe us.", "Rof. It is not to; for how can this be true,", "That you ſtand forfeit, being that ſue,", "Bir. Peace, for I will not have to doe with you,", "Rof. Nor shall not, if I doe as I intend.", "Bir. Speak for your ſelves, my wit is at an end.", "King. Teach us toweet Madam, for our rude transſref-\nſion, some fair excufe.", "Prin. The faireſt is conſeſſion.", "Were you not here but even now diſguſ'd ?", "Kin. M. dam, I was.", "Prin. And were you well advis'd ?", "Kin. I was, fair Madam.", "Prin. When you then were here,", "What did you ſhisper in your Ladies ear ?", "Kin. That more then all the world I did reſpect her.", "Prin. When the ſhall challenge this, you will rejeſt", "her.", "Kin. Upon mine honour no.", "Prin. Peace, peace, forbear :", "Your oath once broke, you force not to forſwear.", "Kin. Deſpife me when I break this oath of mine.", "Prin. I will, and therefore keep it. Reſaline,", "What did the Ruffian ſhisper in your ear ?", "Rof. Madam, he ſwore that he did hold me dear", "As precious eye-fight, and did value me", "Above this World: adding there moreoever,", "That he would Wed me, or eſſe die my Lover.", "Prin. God give thee joy of him : the Noble Lord\nMost honourably doth uphold his word.", "Kin. What mean you Madam ?", "By my life, my troth.", "I never ſwore this Lady ſuch an oath.", "Rof. By heaven you did ; and to confirm it plain,", "You gave me this : But take it fir again.", "Kin. My faith and this, to th' Princeſſe I did give,", "I knew her by this Jewell on her ſleeve.", "Prin. Pardon me fir, this Jewell did ſhe wear,", "And Lord Birone (I thank him) is my dear.", "What ? Will you have me, or your Pearle again ?", "Bir. Neither of either, I remit both twain.", "I fee the trick on't: Here was a conſent,", "Knowing aforehand of our merriment,", "To daſh it like a Christmas Comedy.", {"bbox": [65

Love's Labour's loft.

141

Told our intents before : which once disflos'd,
The Ladies did change Favours, and then we
Following the lignes, wo'd but the sign of the
Now to our perjury, to adde more terror,
We are again forfworn in will and error.
Much upon this it is : and might not you
Forestall our sport, to make us thus untrue ?
Doe not you know my Ladies foot by't Iquier ?
And laugh upon the apple of her eye?
And stand between her back fir, and the fire,
Holding a trencher, jefting merrily ?
You put our Page out: goe, you are allow'd
Die when you will, a fmock shall be your fhow'd.
You leer upon me, do you? There's an eye
Wounds like a Leaden fword.

Boy. Full merrily hath this brave manager, this car-
reere beene runne.

Bir. Loe, he is tilting ftraight, Peace, I have done.

Enter Clown.

Welcome pure wit, thou prat't a fair fray.

Clo. O Lord fir, they would kno,

Whether the three Worthies shall come in, or no.

Bir. What, are there but three ?

Clo. No fir, but it is var fine,

For every one purfents three.

Bir. And three times thrice is nine.

Clo. Not so fir, under correction fir, I hope it is not so.
You cannot beg us fir, I can affure you fir, we know what
we know : I hope three times thrice fir.

Bir. Is not nine.

Clo. Under correction fir, we know where-untill it
doth amount.

Bir. By Jove, I always took three threes for nine.

Clo. O Lord fir, it were pitty you should get your li-
ving by reckoning fir.

Bir. How much is it ?

Clo. O Lord fir, the parties themfelves, the actors fir
will fhow where-untill it doth amount : for mine own
part, I am (as they fay, but to perfect one man in one poor
man) Pompion the great fir.

Bir. Art thou one of the Worthies ?

Clo. It pleaded them to think me worthy of Pompey the
great: for mine own part, I know not the degree of the
Worthy, but I am to fand for him.

Bir. Goe, bid them prepare.

Exit.

Clo. We will turn it finely off fir, we will take some
care.

King. Birone, they will flame us :

Let them not approach.

Bir. We are flame-proofe my Lord : and 'tis some
policy, to have one fhow worfe then the King and his
company.

Kin. I fay they shall not come.

Prin. Nay my good Lord, let me ore rule you now;
That fport beft pleafes, that doth leaft know how.

Where Zeal ſtrives to content, and the contents

Dies, in the Zeal of that which it prefents :

Their form confounded, makes moft form in mirth,
When great things labouring perſis in their birth.

Bir. A right deſcription of our ſport my Lord.

Enter Braggart.

Brag. Anointed, I implore so much expence of thy

royall fweet breath, as will utter a brace of words.

Prin. Doth this man ſerve God ?

Bir. Why ask you ?

Prin. He speak't not like a man of God's making.

Brag. That's all one my fair fweet honey Monarch:
For I proteft, the Schoolmafter is exceeding fantaſtical :
Too too vain, too too vain. But we will put it ( as they
fay ) to Fortuna delaguar. I wiſh you the peace of mind
moſt royall cupplement.

King. Here is like to be a good prefence of Worthies;
He prefents Heſtor of Troy, the Swain Pompey the great,
the Parifh Curate Alexander, Armadoes Page Hercules,
the Pedant Indas Machabeus: And if theſe four Wor-
thies in their firſt ſhow thrive, theſe four will change
habits, and prefent the other five.

Bir. There is ſive in the firſt ſhow.

Kin. You are decived, 'tis not so.

Bir. The Pedant, the Braggart, the Hedge-Prief, the
Fool, and the boy.

A bare throw at Novum, and the whole world again,
Cannot prich out five ſuch, take each one in's vain.

Kin. The ſhip is under fail, and here the comes amain.

Enter Pompey.

Clo. I Pompey am.

Boy. You lye, you are not he.

Clo. I Pompey am.

Boy. With Libbards head on knee,

Bir. Well faid old mocker,

I muſt needs be friends with thee.

I Pompey am, Pompey ſurnam'd the big.

Du. The great.

Clo. It is great fir: Pompey ſurnam'd the great.

That ſoft in field, with Targe and Shield,

did make my fee to fweat :

And travelling along this coaſt, I here am come by chance,
And lay my armes before the legs of this fweet Laſſ of
France.

If your Ladifhip would ſay thanks Pompey, I had done.

Prin. Great thanks great Pompey.

Clo. 'Tis not so much worth: but I hope I was perfect,
I made a little fault in great.

Bir. My hat to a half-penny, Pompey proves the best
Worthy.

Enter Curate, for Alexander.

Curat. When in the world I liv'd, I was the worlds
Commander.

By East, West, North, and South, I ſpread my conguer-
ing might :

My Schutchion plain declares that I am Alifander.

Boy. Your noſe faies no, you are not :

For it ſands too right.

Bir. Your noſe ſmels no, in this moſt tender ſmelling
Knight.

Prin. The Conqueror is diſmaſd :

Proceed good Alexander.

Cur. When in the world I lived, I was the worlds
Commander

Boy. Moſt true, 'tis right : you were ſo Alifander.

Bir. Pompey the great.

Clo. Your ſervant and Coſtard.

Bir. Take away the Conquerer, take away Alifander.

Clo. O fir, you have overthrown Alifander the con-
queror: you will be ſerap'd out of the painted cloth for
this.

Love's Labour's loft.

143

mean you? you will lofe your reputation.

Brag. Gentlemen and Souldiers pardon me, I will not
combate in my shirt.

Du. You may not deny it, Pomprey hath made the
challenge.

Brag. Sweet bloods, I both may, and will.

Bir. What reafon have you for't?

Bra. The naked truth of it is, I have no Shirt,
I go woolward for penance.

Boy. True, and it was enjoyed him in Rome for
want of Linnen: since when, I'll be fwnw he wore none,
but a Diflout of Jaquenettaes, and that he weares next
his heart for a favour.

Enter a Messanger, Monsieur Marcade.

Mar. God fave you Madam.

Prin. Welcome Marcade, but that thou interruptest
our merriment.

Marc. I am sorry Madam, for the newes I bring is
heavy in my tongue. The King your Father.

Prin. Dead for my life.

Mar. Even fo: My tale is told.

Bir. Worthies away, the Scene begins to cloud.

Bra. For mine own part, I breathe free breath: I
have feen the day of wrong, through the little hole of dif-
cretion, and I will right my felf like a Souldier.

Exenent Worthies.

Kin. How fare your Majesty?

Prin. Boyet prepare, I will away to night.

Kin. Madam not fo, I doe befeech you fly.

Prin. Prepare I fay. I thank my gracious Lords
For all your fair endeavours and entreats :
Out of a new fad-foul, that you vouchsafe,
In your rich wifedome to excufe or hide,
The liberall oppofition of our spirits,
If overboldly we have born our felves,
In the converfe of breath (your gentlenefle
W as guilty of it.) Farewell worthy Lord :
An heavy heart bears not an humble tongue,
Excufe me fo, comming fo fhort of thanks,
For my great fuit fo easily obtain'd.

Kin. The extreem parts of time, extreamly forms
All caufes to the purpose of his ſpeed :
And often at his very loofe decides
That, which long proceſe of time could not arbitrate,
And though the mourning brow of progeny
Forbid the fming courteſe of Love :
The holy fuit which fain it would convince,
Yet ſince Love's argument was firſt on foot,
Let not the cloud of ſorrow juffte it
From what it purpoſed : ſince to wail friends loſt,
Is not by much ſo wholſome profitable,
As to rejoyce at friends but newly found.

Prin. I underſtand you not, my grieſs are double.

Bir. Honeſt plain words, beſt pierce the cares of griſt
And by theſe badges underſtand the King,
For your fair fakes have we neglected time,
Play'd foul play with our oathes: your beauty Ladies
Hath much deformed us, ſaſhioning our humours
Even to the oppoſed end of our intent.
And what in us hath ſeem'd ridiculous :
As Love is ſull of unbefitting ſtrains,
All wanton as a child, skipping and vain.
Form'd by the eye, and therefore like the eye.
Full of ſtraying ſhapes, of habits, and of formes,

Varying in ſubjects as the eye doth rowl,
To every varied object in his glance :
Which party-coated, prefence of loofe Love
Put on by us, if in your heavenly eyes,
Have misbecom'd our oathes and gravities,
Thofe heavenly eyes that look into theſe faults,
Suggested us to make : therefore Ladies
Our love being yours, the error that Love makes
Is likewife yours. We to our ſelves prove falſe,
By being once falſe, for ever to be true
To thofe that make us both, fair Ladies you,
And even that falſhood in it ſelf a fin,
Thus purifies it ſelf, and turns to grace.

Prin. We have receiv'd your Letters, full of Love :
Your Favours, the Ambaffadours of Love.
And in our maiden council rated them
At courtſhip, pleafant jeſt, and courteſe,
As bumbaſt, and as lining to the time:
But more devout then theſe are our reſpects
Have we not been, and therefore met your loves
In their own ſaſhion, like a merriment.

Du. Our Letters Madam, ſhew'd much more then jeſt.

Long. So did our looks.

Reſa. We did not coate them ſo.

King. Now at the lateſt minute of the hour,
Grant us your loves.

Prin. A time me thinks too ſhort,
To make a world-with-out end bargain in :
No, no, my Lord, your Grace is perjur'd much,
Full of dear guiltineſſe, and therefore this :
If for my Love (as there is no ſuch caufe)
You will do ought, this ſhall you doe for me,
Your oath I will not truſt: but go with ſpeed
To ſome forlorn and naked Hermitage,
Remote from all the pleafures of the world :
There ſlay, untill the twelve Celeſtiall Signs
Have brought about their annuall reckoning.
If this auſtere infociable life,
Change not your offer made in heat of blood :
If froſts, and aſts, hard lodging, and thin weeds
Nip not the gaudy bloſſes of your Love,
But that it bear this triall, and laſt love :
Then at the expiration of the year,
Come challenge me, challenge by theſe deferts,
And by this Virgin palme, now kiffing thine,
I will be thine : and till that instant flut
My wofull ſelf up in a mourning houſe,
Raining the teares of lamentation,
For the remembrance of my Fathers death.
If this thou doe deny, let our hands part,
Neither entitled in the others heart.

King. If this, or more then this, I would deny,
To flatter up theſe powers of mine with reſt,
The ſudden hand of death cloſe up mine eye:
Hence ever then, my heart is in thy breaſt.

Bir. And what to me my Love ? and what to me ?

Reſa. You muſt be purged too, your fins are rack'd,
You are attaint with fault and perjury :
Therefore if you my favour mean to get,
A twelve-month ſhall you ſpend, and never reſt,
But feek the weary beds of people ſick.

Dum. But what to me my love ? but what to me ?

Kat. A wife ? a beard, fair health, and honeſty ;

With three-fold love, I with you all theſe three.

Dum. O ſhall I fay, I thank you gentle wife ?

Kat. Not ſo my Lord, a twelve-month and a day,

Ple

A Midsummers nights Dream.

Her. So will I grow, so live, so die my Lord,
Ere I will yield my virgin Patent up
Unto his Lordship, to whose unwifed yoak,
My foul contents not to give foveraignty.

The. Take time to paufe, and by the next new Moon,
The fealing day betwixt my Love and me,
For everlafting bond of fellowship.
Upon that day either prepare to die,
For difobedience to your Fathers will,
Or else to wed Demetrius as he would,
Or on Dianaes Altar to proteft
For aye, auferity and fingle life.

Dem. Relent sweet Hermia, and Lyfander, yield
Thy crazed title to my certain right.

Lyf. You have her Fathers love, Demetrius :
Let me have Hermiaes : doe you marry him.

Egeus. Scornfull Lyfander : true, he hath my Love ;
And what is mine, my love shall render him.
And he is mine, and all my right of her
I doe eftate unto Demetrius.

Lyf. I am your Lord, as well deriv'd as he,

As well poffeft : my love is more then his :

My fortunes every way as fairly ranck'd
(If not with vantage) as Demetrius :
And (which is more then all thefe boats can be)

I am below'd of beauteous Hermia.

Why should not I then prosecute my right ?

Demetrius. I'le avouch it to his head,

Made love to Nedars Daughter, Helena,

And won her foul : and the (sweet Lady) dotes,
Devoutly dotes, dotes in Idolatry,

Upon this sparted and inconftant man.

The. I muft confefſe, that I have heard so much,

And with Demetrius thought to have ſpoke enereof :

But being over-full of ſelf-affairs,

My mind did lobe it. But Demetrius come,

And come Egeus, you ſhall go with me,

I have fome private ſchooling for you both.

For you fair Hermia, look you arme your ſelf,

To fit your fancies to your Fathers will ;

Or else the Law of Athens yields you up
(Which by no means we may extenuate)

To death, or to a vow of ſingle life.

Come my Hippolita, what cheer my Love ?

Demetrius and Egeus go along :

I muſt employ you in ſome buſineſſe

Againſt our nuptialls, and ſonferre with you

Of ſomething, nearly that concerns your ſelves.

Ege. With duty and defire we follow you. Exeunt.

Manet Lyfander and Hermia.

Lyf. How now my Love ? Why is your cheek so pale?

How chance the Rofes there doe fade ſo farft ?

Her. Belike for want of rain, which I could well
Beteem them, from the tempeſt of mine eyes.

Lyf. Hermia, for ought that ever I could read,
Could ever hear by Tale or Hiftory,

The courfe of true love never did run ſmooth,

But either it was different in blood.

Her. O croſſe ! too high to be enthrall'd to love.

Lyf. Or else miſgraſſed, in reſpect of yeares.

Her. O ſpight ! too old to be engag'd to young.

Lyf. Or else it flood upon the choife of merit.

Her. O hell! to choofe love by anothers eye.

Lyf. Or if there were a ſimpathy in choife,

War, death, or ſiekneſſe, did lay ſiege to it ;

Making it momentary, as a found :

Swift as a shadow, ſhort as any dream,

Brief as the lightning in the collied night,

That (in a ſpleen) unfolds both heaven and earth ;

And ere a man hath power to ſay, behold,

The jawes of darkneſſe to devoure it up :

So quick bright things come to conſuſion.

Her. If then true Lovers have been ever croſſ,

It stands as an Ediſt in deſtiny :

Then let us teach our triall patience,

Because it is a cuſtomary croſſe,

As due to love, as thoughts, and dreames, and fighs,

Wifhes and teares, poor Fancies followers.

Lyf. A good perſwafion ; therefore hear me Hermia,
I have a Widow Aunt, a Dowager,

Of great revenue, and ſhe hath no Child :

From Athen: is her houſe remov'd ſeven leagues,

And ſhe reſpects me as her onely Son :

There gentle Hermia, may I marry thee,

And to that place, the ſharp Athenian Law

Cannot purſue us. If thou lovſt me, then

Steaf forth thy Fathers houſe to morrow night :

And in the Wood, a league without the Town,

(Where I did meet thee once with Helena,

To doe obſervance for a morn of May)

There will I stay for thee.

Her. My good Lyfander,

I ſwear to thee, by Cupid's ſtrongeſt bow,

By his beſt arrow with the golden head,

By the ſimplicity of Venus Doves,

By that which knitteth ſouſs, and proſpers love,

And by that fire which burn'd the Carthage Queen,

When the falſe Troyan under fail was ſeen,

By all the vows that ever men have broke,

(In number more then ever women ſpoke)

In that fame place thou haſt appointed me,

To morrow truly will I meet with thee.

Lyf. Keep promife Love : look here comes Helena.

Enter Helena.

Her. God ſpeed fair Helena, whither away ?

Hel. Call you me fair ? that fair again unfay,

Demetrius loves you fair : O happy fair !

Your eyes are load-ſtarres, and your tongues ſweet ayre

More tuneable then Larke to Shepheards ear,

When Wheat is green, when Haw-thorn Buds appear,

Sickneſſe is catching : O were favour ſo,

Your words I'd catch, fair Hermia ere I go,

My car ſhould catch your voyce, my eye, your eye,

My tongue ſhould catch your tongues ſweet melody,

Were the World mine, Demetrius being bated,

The reſt I'le give to be to you tranſlated.

O teach me how you look, and with what art

You fway the motion of Demetrius heart.

Her. I frown upon him, yet he loves me ſtill.

Hel. O that your frowns would teach my ſmiles ſuch

Her. I give him curſes, yet he gives me love. (skill.

Hel. O that my prayers could ſuch affection move.

Her. The more I hate, the more he follows me.

Hel. The more I love, the more he hateth me.

Her. His folly Helena is none of mine. (mine)

Hel. None but your beauty, would that fault were

Her. Take comfort: he no more ſhall fee my face,
Lyfander and my ſelf will flie this place.

Before the time I did Lyfander fee,

Seem'd Athens like a Paradife to me.

O

A Midsummers nights Dream.

147

O then, what graces in my Love do dwell,
That he hath turn'd a heaven into Hell?

Lyf. Helen, to you our minds we will unfold,
To morrow night when Phoebe doth behold.
Her filver vifage, in the watry glaſſe,
Decking with liquid pearl, the bladed graſſe
(A time that Lovers flights doth ſtill conceal)
Through Athens gate, have we devis'd to ſteal.

Her. And in the wood, where often you and I,
Upon faint Primroſe beds, were wont to lie,
Emptying our boſomes, of their counſell ſweld;
There my Lysander, and my ſelf ſhall meet,
And thence from Athens turn away our eyes
To ſeek new friends and ſtrange companions,
Farewell ſweet play-fellow, pray thou for us,
And good luck grant thee thy Demetrius.
Keep word Lysander, we muſt ſtarve our fight,
From lovers food, till morrow deep midnight.

Exit Hermia.

Lyf. I will my Hermia, Helena adieu,
As you on him, Demetrius dotes on you.

Exit Lyſander.

Hel. How happy ſome, o're otherſome can be?
Through Athens I am thought as fair as he.
But what of that? Demetrius thinks not ſo:
He will not know, what all, but he doth know,
And as he erres, doting on Hermaies eyes;
So I, admiring of his qualities:

Things bafe and vilde, holding no quantity,
Love can transpofe to ſorme and dignity,
Love looks not with the eyes, but with the minde,
And therefore is wing'd Cupid painted blind.
Nor hath lovesmind of any judgement taſteth:
Wings and no eyes, figure, unheedy haſte.
And therefore is Love ſaid to be a childe,
Because in choife he often is beguil'd,
As waggifh boyes themſelves in game forſwear;
So the boy Love is purj'd every where.
For ere Demetrius lookt on Hermaies cyne,
He hail'd down oathes that he was onely mine.

And when this Hail ſome heat from Hermia felt,
So he diſſolv'd, and ſhowres of oathes did melt.
I will go tell him of fair Hermaies flight:
Then to the Wood will he to morrow night,
Purſue her; and for his intelligence,
If I have thanks, it is a dear expeſe:
But herein mean I to enrich my pain,
To have his fight thither, and back again.

Exit.

Enter Quince the Carpenter, Snug the Joyners, Bottom the Weaver, Fluse the Bellows-mender, Snowt the Tinker, and Starveling the Taylor.

Qu. Is all our company here?

Bot. You were beſt to call them generally, man by man, according to the ſcrip.

Qu. Here is the ſcrowle of every man's name, which
is thought fit through all Athens, to play in our Enter-
lude before the Duke and the Dutchefſe, on his wedding
day at night.

Bot. First, good Peter Quince, ſay what the Play
treats on : then read the names of the Actors: and ſo
grow on to a point.

Qu. Marry our Play is the moſt lamentable Comedy,
and moſt cruell death of Pyramus and Thisiby.

Bot. A very good piece of work I aſſure you, and a

merry. Now good Peter Quince, call forth your Actors
by the ſcrowle. Maſters ſpread your ſelves.

Quince. Anſwer as I call you. Nick Bottom the Weaver.

Bottom. Ready: name what part I am for, and proceed.

Quince. You Nick Bottom are let down for Pyramus.

Bot. What is Pyramus, a lover, or a tyrant?

Quince. A Lover that kills himſelf moſt gallantly for
love.

Bot. That will aske ſome teares in the true perform-
ing of it: if I do it, let the audience look to their eyes;
I will move ſtormes; I will condole in ſome meaſure.
To the reſt yet, my chief humour is for a tyrant. I could
play Encles rarely, or a part to tear a Cat in, to make all
ſplit the raging Rocks, and ſhivering ſhocks ſhall break
the locks of prifon gates, and Phibbus carre ſhall thine
from farre, and make and marre the foolish Fates. This
was lofty. Now name the reſt of the Players. This
is Encles vein, a tyrants vein: a lover is more cond-
ling.

Quin. Francis Flute the Bellows-mender.

Flu. Here Peter Quince.

Qu. You muſt take Thisibie on you.

Flu. What is Thisibie, a wandring Knight?

Qu. It is the Lady that Pyramus muſt love.

Flu. Nay faith, let not me play a woman, I have a
Beard comming.

Qu. That's all one, you ſhall play it in a Maske, and
you may ſpeak as ſmall as you will.

Bot. And I may hide my face, let me play Thisibie
too: I'le ſpeak in a monſtrous little voyce, Thisine,
Thisine, ah Pyramus my lover dear, thy Thisibie dear,
and Lady dear.

Quin. No no, you muſt play Pyramus; and Flute
you Thisibie.

Bot. Well, proceed.

Qu. Robin Starveling, the Taylor.

Star. Here Peter Quince.

Quince, Robin Starveling, you muſt play Thisibies
Mother?

Tom Snowt, the Tinker.

Snowt. Here Peter Quince.

Qu. You Pyramus father; my ſelf, Thisibies father;
Snug the Joyners, you the Lyons part; and I hope there
is a Play fitted.

Snug. Have you the Lyons part written? pray you if
it be, give it me, for I am flow of ſtudy.

Qu. You may do it extempore, for it is nothing but
roaring.

Bot. Let me play the Lyon too, I will roar that, I
will do any mans heart good to hear me. I will roar,
that I will make the Duke ſay, Let him roare again, let
him roare again.

Qu. If you should do it too terribly, you would
fright the Dutchefſe and the Ladies, that they would
fhrike, and that were enough to hang us all.

All. That would hang us every mothers ſon.

Bottome. I grant you friends, if that you ſhould
fright the Ladies out of their Wits, they would
have no more diſcretion but to hang us: but I will ag-
gravate my voyce ſo, that I will roare you as gently
as any fucking Dove; I will roare and 'were any
Nightingale.

Quince. You can play no part but Pyramus, for Pyramus.

N 2

A Midsummers nights Dream.

mus is a sweet-fac'd man, a proper man as one shall fee
in a fummers day; a miftoy lovely Gentleman-like-man,
therefore you muſt needs play Pyramus.

Bot. Well, I will undertake it. What Beard were I
beſt to play it in?

Quin. Why, what you will.

Bot. I will discharge it, in either your fraw-colour
beard, your orange tawny beard, your purple in grain
beard, or your French-crown colour'd beard, your per-
fect yellow.

Quin. Some of your French-Crowns have no hair
at all, and then you will play bare-fac'd. But maſters here
are your parts, and I am to entreat you, requeſt you, and
deſire you, to con them by to-morrow night: and meet
me in the palace wood, a mile without the Town, by
Moon-light, there we will rehearſe: for if we meet in the
City, we shall be dog'd with company, and our devices
crowns, fuch as our Play wants. I pray you fail me not.

Bot. We will meet, and there we may rehearſe more
obſtainably and courageouſly. Take pain, be perſect, adieu.

Quin. At the Dukes oak we meet.

Bot. Enough, hold or cut bow-ftrings.

Exeunt.

Actus Secundus.

Enter a Fairie at one door, and Robin Good-
fellow at another.

Rob. How now ſpirit, whether wander you ?

Fai. Over hill, over dale, through bush, through briar,
Over park, over pale, through flood, through fire,
I do wander every where, ſwifter then the Moons ſpHERE;
And I ferve the Fairy Queen, to dew her Orbs upon the
The Cowflips tall, her penſioners be,
(green.
In their gold coats: spots you fee,
Thofe be Rubies, Fairy favors,
In thofe freekles, live their favors,
I muſt go ſeek some dew drops here,
And hang a pearl in every cowflips ear.
Farewell thou Lob of ſpirits, I'le be gon,
Our Queen and all her Elves come here anon.

Rob. The King doth keep his Revels here to night,
Take heed the Queen come not withjn his fight,
For Oberon is palling fell and wrath,
Because that ſhe, as her attendant, hath
A lovely boy ſoln from an Indian King,
She never had ſo sweet a changeling,
And jealous Oberon would have the child
Knight of this train, to trace the Forreſts wild.
But ſhe (per-force) with-holds the loved boy,
Crowns him with flowers, and makes him all her joy.
And now they never meet in grove, or green,
By fountain clear, or ſpangled ſtar-light ſheen,
But they doe ſquare, that all their Elves for fear
Creep into Acorn cups and hide them there.

Fai. Either I miſtake your ſhape and making quite,
Or eſſe you are that ſhrew'd and knavilſ spirit
Call'd Robin Good-fellow. Are you not he,
That ſright the maidens of the Villagree,
Skim milk, and fometimes labour in the Quern,
And bootleſſe make the breathleſſe hufwife chern,
And fometime make the drink to bear no barmes,

Miflead night-wanderers, laughing at their harm,
Thofe that Hobgoblin call you, and sweet Puck,
You doe their work, and they ſhall have good luck,
Are not you he ?

Rob. Thou speak't ſt right;
I am that merry wanderer of the night:
I jeſt to Oberon, and make him ſmile,
When I a fat and Bean-fed Horſe beguile,
Neighing in likeneſſe like a filly foal,
And sometimes lurk I in a Gofflips bole,
In very likeneſſe of a roaſted crab:
And when ſhe drinks, againſt her lips I bob,
And on her wither'd dewlop poirre the Ale.
The wifſt Aunt telling the faddeſt tale,
Sometime for three-foot ſtool, miſtaketh me,
Then flip I from her bum, down topples ſhe,
And tailour cries, and falls into a coſſe.
And then the whole quire hold their hips, and loffe,
And waxen in their mirth, and neeze, and ſwear,
A merrier hour was never waſted there.
But room Fairy, here comes Oberon.

Fai. And here my Mifſtreſſe :

Would that we were gone.

Enter King of Fairies at one door with his train, and
the Queen at another with hers.

Ob. Ill met by Moon-light,
Proud Titania.

Qui What, jealous Oberon ? Fairy skip hence,
I have forſworn his bed and company.

Ob. Tarry rafh Wanton, am not I thy Lord ?

Qu. Then I muſt be thy Lady: but I know

When thou waſt ſtool away from Fairy Land,
And in the ſhape of Corin, ſate all day,
Playing on pipes of Corn, and verſing love
To amorous Phillida. Why art thou here
Come from the fartheſt ſteep of India?
But that forſooth the bouncing Amazon
Your buskin'd Mifſtreſſe, and your Warriour love,
To Theſeus muſt be Wedded, and you come,
To give their bed joy and prosperity.

Ob. How can't thou thus for ſhame, Titania,
Glance at my credit, with Hippolita?
Knowing I know thy love to Theſeus ?
Didſt thou not lead him through the glimmering night
From Peregenia, whom he ravified ?
And make him with fair Eagles break his faith
With Ariadne, and Antiope ?

Qu. Theſe are the forſeries of jealousie,
And never ſince the middle Summers ſpring
Met we on hill, in dale, forreſt, or mead,
By paved fountain, or by rufhie brook,
Or in the beached margent of the ſea,
To dance our ringlets to the whiffling wind,
But with thy brawles thou haſt diſturb'd our ſport.
Therefore the winds, piping to us in vain,
As in revenge, have ſuck'd up from the ſea
Contagious fogges: Which falling in the Land,
Hath every petty River made ſo proud,
That they have over-born their Continents.
The Oxe hath therefore ſtretch'd his yoak in vain,
The Ploughman loft his ſweat, and the green Corn
Hath rotted, ere his youth attain'd a beard :
The fold ſtands empty in the drowned field,
And Crows are ſatted with the murrion flock.

The

A Midsummers nights Dream.

The nine mens morris is fild up with mud,
And the queint Mazes in the wanton green,
For lack of tread are undistinguishable.
The humane mortals want their winter here,
No night is now with hymn or caroll bleſſed;
Therefore the Moon (the governorne of clouds)
Pale in her anger, wathes all the air;
That Rheumatick diſeaſes do abound.
And thorough this diſtemperature, we fee,
The ſeaſons alter; hoary-headed froſts
Fall in the freſh lap of the crinſon Rose,
And on old *Hyems* chin and Icie crown,
An odorous Chaplet of ſweet Summer buds
Is as in mockry ſet. The ſpring, the Summer,
The chilſing Autumn, angry Winter change
Their wonted Liveries, and the amazed world,
By their increafe, now knows not which is which:
And this fame progeny of evill comes
From our debate, from our diffenſion,
We are their parents and originall.
*Ob.* Do you amend it then, it lies in you,
Why ſhould *Titania* croſſ her *Oberon* ?
I do but beg a little changeling boy,
To be my *Henchman*.
*Qu.* Set your heart at reſt,
The Fairy land buyes not the child of me.
His mother was a Votrefs of my Order,
And in the ſpiced *Indian* air, by night
Full often ſhe hath goſſed with my ſide,
And fat with me on *Neptunes* yellow ſands,
Marking th'embarked traders of the ſlound,
When we taught to fee the fails conceive,
And grow big bellied with the wanton winde :
Which ſhe with pretty and with ſwimming gate,
Following ( her Womb then rich with my young ſquire)
Would imitate, and fail upon the Land,
To fetch me trifles and return again,
As from a voyage, rich with merchandize.
But ſhe being mortall of that boy did dye,
And for her ſake I do rear up her boy,
And for her ſake I will not part with him.

*Ob.* How long within this wood intend you ſlay?

*Qu.* Perchance till after *Theſeus* wedding day.

If you will patiently dance in our Round,
And fee our Moon-light revels, go with us ;
If not, ſun me and I will ſpare your haunts.

*Ob.* Give me that boy, and I will go with thee.

*Qu.* Not for thy Fairy Kingdome. Fairies away:

We shall chide down right, if I longer ſlay.

Exeunt.

*Ob.* Well, go thy way : thou ſhalt not from this grove,
Till I torment thee for this injury.

My gentle *Puck* come hither ; thou remembreſt
Since I fat upon a promontory,
And heard a Mear-maid on a Dolphins back,
Uttering ſuch dulcet and harmonious breath,
That the rude ſea grew civil in her ſong,
And certain ſtars (not madly from their Shpears,
To hear the Sea-maids muſſick.

*Pu.* I remember.

*Ob.* That very time I ſay (but thou could'ſt not)
Flying between the cold Moon and the earth,
*Cupid* all arm'd; a certain aim he took
At a fair Věſtall, throned by the Weſt,
And looſ'd his love-ſhaft ſmarrty from his bow,
As it should pierce a hundred thouſand hearts,
But I might fee young *Cupids* ſiery ſhaft

Quench in the chaſt beams of the watry Moon;
And the imperiall Votrefs paffed on,
In maiden meditation, fancy-free.
Yet mark'd I where the bolt of *Cupid* ſell,
It ſell upon a little weſtern flower :
Before, milk-white: now purple with loves wound,
And maidens call it, Love in idlenſes.
Fetch me that flower; the herb I ſhew'd thee once,
The juyce of it, on ſleeping eye-lids laid,
Will mak a man or woman madly doat
Upon the next live creature that it ſees.
Fetch me this herb, and be thou here again,
Ere the *Leviathan* can ſwim a league.

*Pu.* I'le put a girdle about the earth in forty minutes.

Exit.

*Ob.* Having once this juyce,
I'le watch *Titania*, when ſhe is a ſleep,
And drop the liquor of it in her eyes :
The next thing when ſhe waking looks upon,
(Be it on Lyon, bear, or Wolfe, or Bull,
On medling Monkey, or on buſe Ape)
She ſhall purſue it, with the foul of love.
And ere I take this charm off from her fight,
(As I can take it with another herb)
I'le make her render up her Page to me.
But who comes here ? I am invifible,
And I will over-hear their conference.

Enter Demetrius, Helena following him.

*Dem.* I love thee not, therefore purſue me not,
Where is *Lifander*, and fair *Hermia* ?
The one I' ſay, the other ſtayeth me.
Thou told'ſt me they were ſtoſn into this wood ;
And here am I, and wood within this wood,
Becaufe I cannot meet my *Hermia*.
Hence get the gone, and follow me no more.

*Hel.* You draw me, you hard-hearted Adamant,
But yet you draw not Iron, for my heart
Is true as ſeel. Leave your power to draw,
And I ſhall have no power to follow you.

*Dem.* Do I entice you ? do I ſpeak you fair ?
Or rather do I not in plainſeſt truth,
Tell you I do not, nor I cannot love you ?

*Hel.* And even for that do I love thee the more;
I am your ſpaniell, and *Demetrius*,
The more you beat me, I will fawn on you.
Uſe me but as your ſpaniell; ſpurn me, ſtrike me,
Neglect me, loſe me; only give me leave
(Unworthy as I am) to follow you.
What wofer place can I beg in your love,
(And yet a place of high reſpect with me)
Then to be ſuſed as you do your dog ?

*Dem.* Tempt not too much the hatred of my ſpirit,
For I am ſick when I do look on thee.

*Hel.* And I am ſick when I look not on you.

*Dem.* You do impeach your modeſty too much,
To leave the City, and commit your ſelf
Into the hands of one, that loves you not,
To truſt the opportunity of ſight,
And the ill counſell of a deſert place,
With the rich worth of your virginity.
*Hel.* Your virtue is my privilege: for that
It is not night when I do fee your face.
Therefore I think I am not in the night,
Nor doth this wood lack worlds of company,

N 3

For

A Miſummers nights Dream.

requeth you, or I would entreat you, not to fear, not to tremble: my life for yours. If you think I come hither as a Lion, it were pity of my life. No, I am no such thing, I am a man as other men are; and there indeed let him name his name, and tell him plainly he is Sung the Joiner.

Quince. Well, it shall be so; but there is two hard things, that is, to bring the Moon-light into a chamber: for you know, Pyramus and Thisby meet by Moonlight.

Snug. Doth the Moon-shine that night we play our Play?

Bot. A Calender, a Calender, look in the Almanack, find out Moon-shine, find out Moon-shine.

Enter Puck.

Quin. Yes, it doth shine that night.

Bot. Why then may you leave a cafement of the great chamber window (where we play) open, and the Moon may shine in at the cafement.

Qu. I, or else one muſt come in with a buſh of thorns and a lanthorn, and ſay he comes to disfigure, or to preſent the perſon of Moon-shine. Then there is another thing, we muſt have a wall in the great Chamber; for Piramus and Thisby (fays the ſtory) did talk through the chink of a wall.

Snug. You can never bring in a wall. What ſay you Bottome?

Bot. Some man or other muſt preſent wall, and let him have ſome Plaſter, or ſome Lome, or ſome rough-caſt about his ſin, to ſignify wall; or let him hold his fingers thus: and through that cranny, I shall Pyramus, and Thisby ſwhisper.

Quin. If that may be, then all is well. Come, fit down every mothers ſon, and rehearſe your parts, Pyramus, you begin; when you have ſpoken your ſpeech, enter into that Brake, and ſo every one according to his cue.

Enter Robin.

Rob. What hempen home-ſpuns have we swaggering here,

So near the Cradle of the Fairy Queen ?

What, a Play toward? Ile be an auditor:

An Actor too perhaps, if I fee caufe.

Qu. Speak Pyramus: Thisby ſtand forth.

Pir. Thisby, the flowers of odious favors ſweet.

Quin. Odours, odours.

Pir. Odours favors ſweet,

So hath thy breath, my deareſt Thisby dear.

But hark, a voice: ſtay thou but here a while,

And by and by I will to thee appear.

Exit, Pir.

Puck. A ſtranger Pyramus, then ere plaid here.

Thisby. Muſt I ſpeak now?

Pet. I marry muſt you. For you muſt underſtand he goes but to fee a noife that he heard, and is to come again.

This. Moſt radiant Piramus, moſt Lilly white of hue, Of colour like the red roſe on triumphant bryer, Moſt brisky Juvenall, and eke moſt lovely Jew, As true as trueſt horſe, that yet would never tire, Ile meet thee Piramus, at Ninnies tomb.

Pet. Ninus tomb, man: why, you muſt not ſpeak that yet; that you anſwer to Piramus: you ſpeak all your part at once, cues and all. Piramus enter, your cue is paſt; it is never tire.

Thisby. O, as true as trueſt horſe, that yet would never tire:

Pir. If I were fair, Thisby I were onely thine.

Pet. O monſtrous. O ſtrange. We are hanted ; pray maſters, ſlie maſters, help.

The Clowns all Exeunt.

Puck. Ile follow you, Ile lead you about a Round, Through bogge, through bnſh, through brake, through Sometime a horſe Ile be, sometimes a hound: (bryer, A hogge, a headleſſe Bear, fometime a fire, And neigh, and bark, and grunt, and rore, and burne, Like horſe, hound, hog, Bear, fire, at every turn. Exit.

Enter Piramus with the Aſſe head.

Bot. Why do they run away ? This is a knavery of them to make me aſeard. Enter Snout.

Sn. O Bottome, thou art chang'd: What do I fee on thee?

Bot. What do you fee ? You fee an Aſſe-head of your own, do you ?

Enter Peter Quince.

Pet. Bleſſe thee Bottome, bleſſe thee; thou art tranſlaſted. Exit.

Bot. I fee their knavery: this is to make an aſſe of me, to fright me if they could; but I will not ſtire from this place, do what they can. I will walk up and down here, and will ſing that they ſhall here I am not afraid. The Woofell cock, fo black of hew.

With Orenge-tawny bill,

The Throſtle, with his note fo true,

The Wren and little quill.

Tita. What Angell wakes me from my flowry bed?

Bot. The Finch, the Sparrow, and the Lark,

The plainſong Cuckow gray;

Whole note full many a man doth mark,

And dares not anſwer, nay.

For indeed, who would fet his wit to ſo foolſh a bird? Who would give a bird the lye, though he cry Cuckow, never fo?

Tita. I pray thee gentle mortall, ſing again,

Mine ear is much enamored of thy note;

On the first view to ſay, to ſwear I love thee.

So is mine eye enthralled to thy ſhape.

And thy fair vertues force (perſorce) doth move me.

Bot. Me-thinks maſſtreſſe, you ſhould have little reaſon for that: and yet to ſay the truth, reaſon and love keep little company together, now-adayes. The more the pity, that ſome honesſt neighbours will not make them friends. Nay, I can gleek upon occafion.

Tyta. Thou art as wife as thou art beautiſull.

Bot. Not ſo neither: but if I had wit enough to get out of this wood, I have enough to ſerve mine own turn.

Tyta. Out of this wood, do not define to go, Thou shalt remain here, whether thou wilt or no. I am a ſpirit of no common rate:

The Summer ſtill doth tend upon my ſtate,

And I do love thee; therefore goe with me,

Ile give thee Fairies to attend on thee;

And they shall fetch thee Jewels from the deep,

And ſing, while thou on prefed flowers doth ſleep:

And I will purge thy mortal groſſeneſſe, so,

That thou shalt like an airy ſpirit go.

Enter Peaſe-bloſome, Cobweb, Moth, Maſſardfeed, and four Fairies.

Fair. Ready; and I, and I, and I, Where shall we go?

Midsummers nights Dream.

153

Tita. Be kind and courteous to this Gentleman.
Hop in his walks, and gambole in his eyes,
Feed him with Apricocks, and Dewberries,
With purple Grapes, green Figs, and Mulberries,
The honie-bags, feal from the humble Bees,
And for night-tapers crop their waxen thighs,
And light them at the fiery-Glow-worms eyes,
To have my love to bed, and to arife:
And pluck the wings from painted Butterflies,
To fan the Moon-beames from his fleeping eyes,
Nod to him Elves, and doe him courtefies.

1. Fai. Hail mortall, hail.

2. Fai. Hail.

3. Fai. Hail.

Bot. I cry, your worships mercy heartily, I befeech your worships name.
Cob. Cobweb.

Bot. I shall defire you of more acquaintance, good
After Cobweb: if I cut my fingers, I shall make bold with
you.

Your name honest Gentleman ?

Peaf. Peaf-bloſſom.

Bot. I pray you commend me to Miftreſſe Squash,
your Mother, and to Mafter Peaſcod your Father. Good
After Peaſe-bloſſom, I shall defire of you more acquain-
tance too. Your name I beſeech you fir :

Muf. Muffard-feed.

Bot. Good After Muffard-feed; I know your pati-
ence well: that fame cowardly gyant-like Oxe-beef hath
devoured many a Gentleman of your houfe. I promife
you, your kindred hath made my eyes water ere now. I
defire your more acquaintance, good After Muffard-
feed.

Tita. Come wait upon him, lead him to my bower.
The Moon me thinks, looks with a watry eye,
And when weep, ween every little flower,
Lamenting fome enforced chafthry.

Tye up my Lovers tongue, bring him filently.

Exit.

Enter King of Fairies, Solus.

Ob. I wonder if Titania be awak't:
Then what it was that next came in her eye,
Which she muſt dote on, in extremity.

Enter Puck.

Here comes my meſſenger: how now mad (spirit,
What night-rule now about this haunted Grove ?

Puck. My Miftreſſe with a monster is in love,
Near to her cloſe and conſecrated bower,
While ſhe was in her dull and ſleeping houre,
A crew of patches, rude Mechanicaſ,
That work for bread upon Athenian falls,
Were met together to rehearſe a Play,

Intended for great Theſeus nuptiall day :
The ſhallowſt thick-skin of that barren fort,
Who Pyramus prefented, in their ſport,
Forſook his Scene, and entred in a brake,
When I did him at this advantage take,
An Aſſes nole I fixed on his head.

Anon his Thisbie muſt be anſwered,
And forth my Mimmick comes : when they him ſpie,
As wild-Geefe, that the creeping Fowler eye,
Or rufſed-pated crouſes, many in fort
(Riſing and cawing at the Guns report)
Sever themſelves, and madly ſweep the skye :

So at his fight, away his ſellows ſlie,
And at our ſtamp, here o're and o're one falls ;
He murther ies, and help from Athens calls.
Their ſenſe thus weak, loft with their ſears thus ſtrong;
Made ſenſeleſſe things begin to doe them wrong.
For briars and thorns at their apparell ſnatch,
Some ſleeves, ſome hats, from ſyelders all things catch,
I led them on in this diſtraſhed fear,
And left ſweet Pyramus tranſlated there :
When in that moment (so it came to paffe)
Titania wak't, and ſtraight way lov'd an Aſſe.

Ob. This falls out better then I could deſive :
But haſt thou yet latcht the Athenians eyes,
With the love juyce as, I did bid thee doe ?

Rob. I took him ſleeping (that is finiſht too)
And the Athenian Woman by his ſide,
That when he wak't, of force he muſt be ey'd.

Enter Demetrius and Hermia.

Ob. Stand cloſe, this is the fame Athenian.

Rob. This is the woman, but not this the man.

Dem. O why rebuke you him that loves you ?

Lay breath so bitter on your bitter foe.

Her. Now I but chide, but I ſhould uſe thee worse.
For thou (I fear) haſt given me cauſe to curſe,

If thou haſt ſlain Lyſander in his ſleep.

Being o're ſhooes in blood, plunge in the deep, and kill
me too :

The Sun was not ſo true unto the day,
As he to me. Would he have ſollen away,
From ſleeping Hermia? I'l' believe as ſoon
This whole earth may be bord, and, that the Moon
May through the Center creep, and ſo diſpleafe
Her brothers noon-tide, with th' Antipodes.

It cannot be but thou haſt murdreded him,

So should a murtherer look, so dead, so grim.
Dem. So ſhould the murtherer look, and so ſhould I,
Pierſh through the heart with your ſteart cruelty :

Yet you the murderer looks as bright as clear,

As yonder Venuſ in her glimmering ſpheare.

Her. What's this to my Lyſander ? where is he ?

Ah good Demetrius, wilt thou give him me ?

Dem. I'd rather give his carſaffe to my hounds.

Her. Out dog, out cur, thou driv'ſt me paſt the bounds
Of maidsens patience. Haſt thou ſlain him then ?
Henceforth be never numbred among men.

Oh, once tell true, and even for my ſake,

Durf't thou a lookt upon him, being awake ?
And haſt thou kill'd him ſleeping ? O brave tucht :

Conſe not a worm, an Adder doe ſo much ?

An Adder did it: for with doubler tongue

Then thine (thou ſerpent) never Adder ſtung,

Dem. You ſpend your paffion on a miſpris'd mood,

I am not guilty of Lyſanders blood :

Nor is he dead for ought that I can tell.
Her. I pray thee tell me then that he is well.

Dem. And if I could, what ſhould I get therefore ?

Her. A privilege, never to fee me more ;

And from thy hated prefence part I: fee me no more

Whether he be dead or no,

Exit.

Dem. There is no following her in this ſierce vein,
Here therefore for a while I will remain.

So forrowes heaveinſe doth heavier grow :

For debt that bankrouſt flip doth forrowowe,

Which now in ſome flight meaſure it will pay ;

if

A Midsummers nights Dream.

154

If for his tender here I make some flay.
Lie down.
Ob. What haft thou done? Thou haft miftaken quite

And laid the love juyce on fome true-loves fight:

Of thy mifprifation, muft perforce enfue

Some true love turn'd, and not a falfe turn'd true.

Rob. Then fate o're-rules, that one man holding troth,
A million fail, confounding oath on oath.

Ob. About the wood, go swifter then the wind,

And Helena of Athens look thou find.
All fancy-fick ſhe is, and pale of cheer,
With fighs of love, that coſts the freſh blood dear.

By fome illufation fee thou bring me here,
I'le charm his eyes againſt ſhe doth appear,

Rob. I go, I go, look how I go,

Swifter then arrow from the Tartars bow.

Ob. Flower of this purple die,

Hit with Cupids archery,

Sink in apple of his eye,

When his love he doth espy,

Let her ſhine as gloriously

As the Venuſ of the skie.

When thou wak'ſt if ſhe be by

Beg of her for remedy.

### Enter Puck.

Puck. Captain of our Fairy band,
Helena is here at hand,

And the youth, miftook by me,

Pleading for a Lovers fee.

Shall we their fond Pageant fee ?

Lord, what foals theſe mortalls be !

Ob. Stand afide : the noyſe they make,
Will cauſe Demetrius to awake.

Puck. Then will two at once wooe one,
That muſt needs be ſport alone :
And thofe things doe beſt pleaſe me,
That befall prepoſterouſly.

### Enter Lysander and Helena.

Lys. Why ſhould you think that I ſhould wooe in
Scorn and derifion never comes in teares :
(fcorn ?

Look when I vow I weep, and vowes ſo born,
In their nativity all truth appears.

How can theſe things in me ſeem ſcorn to you ?

Bearing the badge of faith to prove them true.

Hel. You doe advance your cunning more and more,
When truth kills truth, O devilifh holy fray !

Theſe vowes are Hermiaes. Will you give her o're ?

Weigh oath with oath, and you will nothing weigh.

Your vowes to her and me, (put in two ſcales)

Will even weigh, and both as light as tales.

Lys. I had no judgement, when to her I ſwore.

Hel. Nor none in my mind, now you give her o're.

Lys. Demetrius loves her, and he loves not you. Awa.

Dem. O Helen, goddeſſe, nymph, perſect, divine,

To what ? my love, ſhall I compare thine eyne,
Chriſtall is muddy, O how ripe in ſhow,

Thy lips, thofe killing cherries, tempting grow !

That pure congealed white, high Taurus ſnow,

Fann'd with the Eaſtern wind, turns to a Crow,

When thou hold'ſt up thy hand. O let me kiffſe
This Princesſe of pure white, this ſeal of blifſe.

Hel. O ſpight ! O hell! I fee you are all bent
To fet againſt me, for your merriment :

If you were civil, and knew courteſe,

You would not doe me thus much injury.

Can you not hate me, as I know you doe,

But you muſt joyn in fouls to mock me too ?

If you are men, as men you are in ſhow,

You would not uſe a gentle Lady ſo ?

To vow, and fwear, and ſuperpraise my parts,

When I am ſure you hate me with your hearts,

You both are Rivals, and love Hermia,

And now both Rivals, to mock Helena.

A trim exploit, a manly enterprize,

To conjure teares up in a poor maids eyes,

With your derifion; none of noble fort,

Would ſo offend a Virgin, and extort

A poor fouls patience, all to make you ſport.

Lys. You are unkind Demetrius ; be not ſo,
For you love Hermia; this you know I know ;

And here with all good will, with all my heart,

In Hermiaes love I yield you up my part ;

And yours of Helena, to me bequeath,

Whom I doe love, and will doe to my death.

Hel. Never did mockers waſte more idle breath,

Dem. Lysander, keep thy Hermia, I will none :

If e're I lov'd her, all that love is gone.

My heart to her, but as gueſt-wife fojourn'd,

And now to Helen it is home return'd,

There to remain.

Lys. It is not ſo.

Dem. Difparage not the faith you doſt not know,
Left to thy perill thou abide it dear.

Look where thy Love comes, yonder is thy dear.

### Enter Hermia.

Her. Dark night, that from the eye his ſunction takes
The ear more quick of apprehenſion makes,

Wherein it doth impair the feeing ſenſe,

It pays the hearing double recompence,

Thou art not by mine eye, Lysander found,

Mine ear (I thank it) brought me to that found,

But why unkindly didſt thou leave me ſo ? (to go)
Lysander. Why should he stay whom Love doth preſſe
Her. What love could preſſe Lysander from my ſide ?

Lys. Lysanders love (that would not let him bide)
Fair Helena, who more engilds the night,
Then all yon fiery oes, and eyes of light.

Why feek'ſt thou me ? Could not this make thee know,
The hate I bare thee, made me leave thee ſo ?

Her. You ſpeak not as you think ; it cannot be,

Hel. Loe, ſhe is one of this confederacy,

Now I perceive they have conjoyn'd all three,

To fashion this falſe ſport in ſpight of me.

Injurious Hermia, moſt ungrateſſull maid,

Have you confpir'd, have you with theſe contriv'd
To bait me, with this foul derifion ?

Is all the confounſ that we two have ſhar'd,

The ſifters vowes, the houres that we have ſpent,

When we have chid the haſty footed time,

For parting us; O, and is all ſorg ſo ?

All ſchool-dayes friendſhip, child-hoods innocence ?

We, Hermia, like two Artificial gods,

Have with our needles, created both one flower,

Both on one Sampler, ſitting on one cufhion ;

Both warbling of one ſong, both in one key ;

As if our hands, our fides, voyces, and minds

Had been incorporate. So we grew together,

Like to a double cherry, ſeeming parted,

But a union in partition,

Two

A Midsummers nights Dream.

155

Two lovely berries molded on one item,
So with two feeming bodies, but one heart,
Two of the first life, coats in Heraldry,
Due but to one, and crowned with one crest.
And will you rent our ancient love aunder,
To joyn with men in fcosning your poor friend ?
It is not friendly, 'tis not maidenly.
Our sex as well as I may chide you for it,
Though I alone doe feel the injury.

Her. I am amazed at your papionate words,
I fcorn you not; it seems that you fcorn me.

Hel. Have you not fet Lysander, as in fcorn
To follow me, and praife my eyes and face?

And made your other love, Demetrius
(Who even but now did fburn me with his foot)
To call me goddeffe, nymph, divine, and rare,
Precious, celeffiall ? Wherefore (speaks he this
To her he hates ? And wherefore doth Lysander
Deny your love (fo rich within his foul)
And tender me (forfooth) affection,

But by your fetting on, by your conſent ?

What though I be not to in grace as you,
So hung upon with love, ſo fortunate ?

(But niferable moſt, to love unlov'd)

This you ſhould pity rather then deſpife.

Her. I understand not what you mean by this.

Hel. I, doe, perfever, counterfeit ſad looks,
Make mouthes upon me when I turn my back,
Wink each at other, hold the sweet jeſt up:

This ſport well carried, ſhall be chronickered.

If you have any pitty, grace, or manners,

You would not make me ſuch an argument :

But fare ye well, 'tis partly mine own ſault,

Which death or abſence ſoon ſhall remedy.

Lyſ. Stay gentle Helena, hear my excufe,

My love, my foul, fair Helena,
Hel. O excellent !

Her. Sweet, doe not ſcorn her ſo.

Dem. If he cannot entreat, I can compell.

Lyſ. Thou canſt compell no more then the entreat,
Thy threats have no more ſtrength then her weak praife.

Helen, I love thee, by my life I doe ;

I ſwear by that which I will ſoſe for thee,

To prove him falſe that fayes I love thee not.

Dem. I fay, I love thee more then he can doe.

Lyſ. If thou ſay ſo, withdraw and prove it too,

Dem. Quick, come.

Her. Lysander, whereto tends all this ?

Lyſ. Away, you Ethiope.

Dem. No, no, Sir, ſeem to break loofe ;

Take on as you would follow,

But yet come not : you are a tame man, go.

Lyſ. Hang off thou cat, thou but; vile thing let loofe,

Or I will ſhake thee from me like a ſerpent.
Her. Why are you grown ſo rude ?

What change is this, ſweet Love ?

Lyſ. Thy love ? out tawny Tartar, out ;

Out loathed medicine ; O hated poyſon hence,

Her. Doe you not jeſt ?

Hel. Yes, foot, and ſo doe you,

Lyſ. Demetrius, I will keep my word with thee.

Dem. I would I had your bond : for I perceive
A weak bond holds you ; I'le not truſt your word,

Lyſ. What, should I hurt her, ſtrike her, kill her dead ?

Although I hate her, I'le not harm her ſo.

Her. What, can you doe me greater harm then hate?

Hate me, wherefore ? O me, what newes my Love?

Am not I Hermia ? are not you Lysander ?

I am as fair now, as I was ere while.

Since night you lov'd me ; yet ſince night you left me,

Why then you left me (O the Gods forbid)

In earneſt, I ſhall I fay ?

Lyſ. I, by my life ;

And never did define to fee thee more.

Therefore be out of hope, of question, of doubt,

Be certain, nothing truer : 'tis no jeſt,

That I doe hate thee, and love Helena.

Her. O me, you jugler, you canker-bloſſome,

You thief of love ; What have you come by night?

And ſtole my loves heart from him?

Hel. Fine ifaith :

Have you no modeſty, no maiden ſhame,

No touch of bathſulneſſe ? What will you tear

Impatient anſwers from my gentle tongue ?

Fie, fie, you counterfeit, you puppet, you.

Her. Puppet ? why fo ? I, that way goes the game.

Now I perceive that the hath made compare

Between our ſtatures, the hath urg'd her height,

And with her perſonage, her tall perſonage,

Her height (forſooth) the hath prevail'd with him.

And are you grown ſo high in hisſteem,

Because I am ſo dwarſſil, and ſo low ?

How low am I, thou painted May-pole ? S peak;

How low am I ? I am not yet ſo low,

But that my nails can reach unto thine eyes.

Hel. I pray you though you mock me, gentlemere,

Let her not hurt me, I was never curſt :

I have no gift at all in ſhrewiſhneſſe ;

I am a right maid for my cowardize ;

Let her not ſtrike me : you perhaps may think,

Because ſhe is ſomething lower then my ſelf,

That I can match her.

Her. Lower ? hark again.

Hel. Good Hermia, doe not be ſo bitter with me,

I evermore did love you Hermia,

Did ever keep your counſells, never wronged you,

Save that in love unto Demetrius,

I told him of your ſealth unto this Wood.

He followed you, for love I followed him,

But he hath chid me hence, and threatened me

To ſtrike me, ſpurn me, nay, to kill me too ;

And now, ſo you will let me quiet go,

To Athens will I bear my folly back,

And follow you no further. Let me go.

You fee how ſimple, and how fond I am.

Her. Why get you gone : who is't that hinders you ?

Hel. A foolish heart, that I leave here behind.

Her. What, with Lysander ?

Hel. With Demetrius.

Lyſ. Be not aſvaid, ſhe shall not harm thee Helena.

Dem. No fir, ſhe shall not, though you take her part.

Hel. O, when ſhe's angry, ſhe is keen and ſhrewd,

She was a vixen when ſhe went to schoole,

And though ſhe be but little ſhe is ſierce.

Her. Little again ? nothing but low and little ?

Why will you ſuffer her to flout me thus ?

Let me come to her.

Lyſ. Get you gone you dwarſe,

You minimus, of hindring knot-graſſe made,

You Bead, you Acorn.

Dem. You are too officious,

In her behalf that ſcorns your ſervices.

Let

A Midsummers nights Dream.

157

And the Country Proverb known,
That every man should take his own,
In your waking shall be flown.
Jack shall have Jill, naught shall go ill,
The man shall have his Mare again, and all shall be well.

They sleep all the Act.

Actus Quartus.

Enter Queen of Fairies, and Clown, and Fairies, and
the King behind them.

Tita. Come, fit thee down upon this flowry bed,
While I thy amiable cheeks do cay,
And flickt musk rofes in thy fleek smooth head,
And kiss thy fair large ears, my gentle joy.

Clo. Where's Pease Bloosome?

Pease. Ready.

Clo. Scratch my head, Pease-Bloosome. Where's Mounfieur Cobweb?

Cob. Ready.

Clo. Mounfieur Cobweb, good Mounfieur get your wea-
pons in your hand, and kill me a red hipt humble-Bee
on the top of a thittle; and good Mounfieur bring me
the hony bag. Doe not fret your self too much in the
action, Mounfieur; and good Mounfieur have a care the
hony bag break not, I would be loth to have you over-
flown with a hony-bag fignior. Where's Mounfieur
Mustard-seed?

Muf. Ready.

Clo. Give me your newſe, Mounfieur Mustard,
Pray you leave your curteſe good Mounfieur.

Muf. What's your will?

Clo. Nothing good Mounfieur, but to help Cavafero
Cobweb to scratch. I naught to the Barbers Mounfieur, for
me thinks I am marvellous hairy about the face. And I
am fuch a tender affe, if my hair do but tickle me, I muf
scratch.

Tita. What, wilt thou hear some muſick, my sweet
love?

Clo. I have a reaſonable good ear in muſick. Let us have the tonges and the bones.

Muſick Tongs, Rural Mufick.

Tita. Or ſay sweet Love, what thou defireſt to eat.

Clo. Truely a peck of Provender; I would munch
your good dry Oats. Me thinks I have a great defire
to a bottle of hay: good hay, sweet hay hath no fel-
low.

Tita. I have a venturous Fairy,
That shall feek the Squirrels hoard,
And fetch thee new Nuts.

Clo. I had rather have a handfull or two of dried peaſe.
But I pray you let none of your people flir me, I have
an exſpition of ſleep come upon me.

Tita. Sleep thou, and I will winde thee in my arms,
Fairies be gone, and be alwayes away.

So doth the woodbine, the ſweet Honiſuckle,
Gently entwift; the female Ivy fo

Enrings the barky fingers of the Elme,

O how I love thee ! how I dote on thee ?

Enter Robin Goodfellow, and Oberon.

Ob. Welcome good Robin :

Seeft thou this ſweet fight ?

Her dotage now I do begin to pitty.

For meeting her of late behind the wood,

Seeking ſweet favors for this hatefull foolc,

I did upbraid her, and fall out with her.

For he his hairy temples then had rounded,

With coronet of freſh and fragrant flowers.

And that fame dew which fometime on the buds,

Was wont to ſwell like round and orient pearls ;

Stood now within the pretty flouriets eyes,

Like tears that did their own difgrace bewaile.

When I had at my pleafure taunted her,

And ſhe in milde tearms beg'd my patience,

I then did ask of her, her changeling childe,

Which fraight ſhe gave me, and her Fairy ſent

To bear him to my Bower in Fairy Land.

And now I have the Boy, I will undoe

This hatefull imperfection of her eyes,

And gentle Puck, take this transformed ſcalpe,

From off the head of this Athenian ſwain ;

That he awaking when the other doe,

May all to Athens back again repair,

And think no more of this nights accidents,

But as the fierce vexation of a dream.

But firſt I will releafe the Fairy Queen.

Be thou as thou waſt wont to be;

See as thou waſt wont to ſee.

Dians bud, or Cupids flower,

Hath ſuch force and bleſſed power.

Now my Titania wake you my ſweet Queen.

Tita. My Oberon, what vifions have I seen !

Me-thought I was enamoured of an Affe.

Ob. There lyes your love.

Tita. How came theſe things to paf?

Oh how mine eyes doe loath this viſage now !

Ob. Silence a while. Robin take off his head.

Titania, muſick call, and ſtrike more dead

Then common ſleep ; of all theſe find the ſense.

Tita. Muſick, ho muſick, ſuch as charmeth ſleep.

Muſick ſtill.

Rob. When thou awak'ſt, with thine own fools eyes
peep. (me

Ob. Sound muſick; come my Queen, take hand with
And rock the ground whereon theſe ſleepers be.

Now thou and I are new in amity,

And will to morrow midnight, solemnly

Dance in Duke Theſeu's houſe triumphantly,

And bleſſ it to all fair poſterity.

There ſhall theſe paires of faithfull Lovers be
Wedded, with Theſeu, all in jollity.

Rob. Fair King attend, and mark,
I doe hear the morning Lark.

Ob. Then my Queen in ſilence ſad,
Trip we after the nights ſhade ;
We the Globe can compaſs soon,
Swifter then the wandring Moon.

Tita. Come my Lord, and in our flight,
Tell me how it came this night,
That I ſleeping here was found,

Steepers lie ſtill.

O

With

A Midsummers nights Dream.

With these mortals on the ground.

Exeunt.

Winde Horns.

Enter Theſens, Egaus, Hippolita and all hestrain.

Theſ. Go one of you, finde out the Forreſter,
For now our obſervation is perform'd :
And ſince we have the vaward of the day,
My Love ſhall hear the muſick of my hounds,
Uncouple in the Western valley, let them go;
Diſpatch I ſay, and finde the Forreſter.
We will fair Queen, up to the Mountains top,
And mark the muſicall confuſion
Of hounds and echo in conjunction.

Hip. I was with Hercules and Cadmus once,
When in a wood of Creet they bayed the Bear
With hounds of Sparta; never did I hear
Such gallant chiding. For beſides the groves,
The skies, the fountains, every region near,
Seem'd all one muttuall cry. I never heard
So muſicall a diſcord, ſuch ſweet thunder.

Theſ. My hounds are bred out of the ſpartan kind,
So ſlew'd, so ſanded, and their heads are hung
With ears that tſweep away the morning dew,
Crook-kneed, and dew-lapt, like Theſalian Buls,
Slow in purſuit, but match'd in mouth like bels,
Each under each. A cry more tuneable
Was never hollowed to, nor cheer'd with horn,
In Creet, in Sparta, nor in Theſaly ;

Judge when you hear. But ſoft, what nimphs are theſe ?

Ega. My Lord, this is my daughter here aſleep,
And this Lysander, this Demetrius is,
This Helena, old Nedars Helena,
I wonder of this being here together,

Theſ. No doubt they roſe up early, to obſerve
The right of May, and hearing our intent,
Came here in grace of our ſolemnity.
But ſpeak Egaus, is not this the day

That Hermia should give anſwer of her choice?

Ega. It is my Lord.

Theſ. Go bid the huntſ-men wake them with their
horns.

Horns and they wake.

Shout within, they all start up.

Theſ. Good morrow friends: Saint Valentine is paff,
Begin these wood-birds but to couple now ?

Lyſ. Pardon my Lord.

Theſ. I pray, you all stand up.

I know you two are Rivall enemies.

How comes thus gentle concord in the world,
That hatred is ſo far from jealouſie,
To ſleep by hate, and fear no enmity,

Lyſ. My Lord, I ſhall reply amazedly,
Half ſleep, half waking. But as yet, I ſwear,
I cannot truly ſay how I came here.
But as I think (for truly would I ſpeak)
And now I do bethink me, ſo it is:
I came with Hermia hither. Our intent
Was to be gone from Athens, where we might be
Without the perill of the Athenian Law.

Ega. Enough, enough, my Lord: you have enough;
I beg the Law, the Law, upon his head :
They would have ſoln away, they would Demetrius,
Thereby to have defeated you and me :
You of your wife, and me of my conſent :
Of my conſent, that ſhe ſhould be your wife.

Dem. My Lord, fair Helen told me of their ſtealth,
Of this their purpose hither, to this wood,

And I in fury hither followed them ;

Fair Helena, in fancy followed me.

But my good Lord, I wot not by what power,
(But by ſome power it is) my love
To Hermia (melted as the ſnow)

Seems to me now as the remembrance of an idle gaude,
Which in my childhood I did doat upon :
And all the faith, the vertue of my heart,
The objeſt and the pleasure of mine eye,
Is only Helena. To her, my Lord,
Was I betroth'd, ere I fee Hermia,
But like a fickneſſe did I loath this food :
But as in health, come to my naturall taſte,
Now do I wifh it, love it, long for it,
And will for evermore be true to it.

Theſ. Fair Lovers, you are fortunately met;
Of this diſcourſe we ſhall hear more anon.
Egaus, I will over-bear your will ;
For in the Temple, by and by with us,
Theſe couples ſhall eternally be knitted.

And for the morning now is ſomething worn;
Our purpòs'd hunting ſhall be ſet afide.
Away, with us to Athens; three and three,
We'll hold a ſeaſt in great ſolemnity.

Come Hippolita.

Exit Duke and Lords.

Dem. Theſe things ſeem ſmall and undiftinguſable,
Like far off mountains turned into Clouds.

Her. Me-thinks I fee the ſe things with parted eye,
When every thing ſeems double.

Hel. So me-thinks :
And I have found Demetrius, like a jewell,
Mine own, and not mine own.

Dem. It ſeems to me,
That we ſleep, we dream. Do not you think,
The Duke was here, and bid us follow him ?

Her. Yea, and my Father.

Hel. And Hippolita.

Lyſ. And he bid us follow to the Temple.

Dem. Why then we are awake; ſets follow him, and
by the way let us recount our dreams.

Bottomè Wakes.

Exit Lovers.

Clo. When my cue comes, call me, and I will anſwer.
My next is, moſt fair Piramus, Hey ho, Peter Quince!
Flute the Bellowes-mender? Snout the Tinker? Starv-
ling? Gods my life ! Stoln hence, and left me aſleep :
I have had a moſt rare viſion. I had a dream, paſſ the
win of man, to ſay, what dream it was. Man is but an Aſſe,
if he goe about to expound this dream. Me-thought I
was, there is no man can tell what. Me-thought I was,
and me-thought I had. But man is but a patch'd fool,
if he will offer to ſay, what me-thought I had. The eye of
man hath not heard, the ear of man hath not ſeen, man's
hand is not able to taſſe, his tongue to conceive, nor his
heart to report, what my dream was. I will get Peter
Quince to write a ballet of this dream, it ſhall be called
Bottomes Dream, becauſe it hath no bottom ; and I will
ſing it in the latter end of a play, before the Duke. Per-
adventure, to make it the more gracious, I ſhall ſing it
at her death.

Exit.

Enter Quince, Flutè, Thisby, Snout, and Starvilling.

Qui. Have you ſent to Bottomes house ? Is he come
home yet?

Star. He cannot be heard of. Out of doubt he is tranſ-
ported.

Thif. If

A Midsummers nights Dream.

159

This is. If he come not, then the play is mar'd. It goes
forward, doth it?

*Quin.* It is not possible: you have not a man in all A-
*thenes*. able to discharge *Piramus* but he.

*This.* No, he hath simply the best wit of any handy-
craft man in *Athens*.

*Quin.* Yea, and the best person too, and he is a very
Paramour, for a sweet voice.

*This.* You must say, Paragon. A Paramour is (God
bleffes) us) a thing of naught.

*Enter Snug the Joiner.*

*Snug.* Masters, the Duke is coming from the Tem-
ple, and there is two or three Lords and Ladies more
married. If our sport had gone forward, we had all been
made men.

*This.* O sweet bully *Bottome*: thus hath he loft fix-
pence a day, during his life; he could not have scaped fix-
pence a day. And the Duke had not given him fixpence
a day for playing *Piramus*, ile be hang'd. He would have
deferred it. Sixpence a day in *Piramus*, or nothing.

*Enter Bottome.*

*Bot.* Where are these Lads? Where are these hearts?

*Quin.* *Bottome*, O moft courageous day! O moft hap-
py hour!

*Bot.* Masters, I am so discourte wonders; but ask me
not what. for if I tell you, I am no true *Athenian*. I
will tell you every thing as it fell out.

*Quin.* Let us hear, sweet *Bottome*.

*Bot.* Not a word of me: all that I will tell you, is, that
the Duke hath dined. Get your apparel together, good
frings to your beards, new ribbands to your pumps, meet
prefently at the Palace, every man look on his Part:
for the short and the long is, our Play is preferred: In
any case let *Thisby* have clean linen: and let not him
that playes the Lion, pare his nailes, for they shall hang
out for the Lion's claws. And moft dear Actors, eat no
Onions, nor Garlick; for we are to utter sweet breach,
and I do not doubt to hear them say, it is a sweet Come-
dy. No more words: away, goe away.

Exeunt.

Actus Quintus.

*Enter Theſeus, Hippolita, Egaus and his Lords.*

*Hip.* 'Tis strange my *Theſeus*, that these lovers speak of
*Theſ*. More strange then true. I never may believe
These antick fables, nor these Fairy toyes,
Lovers and mad men, have fuch feeching brains,
Such shaping phantafies, that apprehend more
Then coolie reafon ever comprehends;
The Lunatick, the Lover, and the Poet,
Are of imagination all compact.

One fees more devils then vaſt hell can hold;
That is the mad-man. The Lover, all as frantick,
Sees *Helens* beauty in a brow of *Egypt*.

The Poets eye in a fine frenzy rolling,
Doth glance from heaven to earth, from earth to heaven.
And as imagination bodies forth the forms of things
Unknown: the Poets pen turns them to ſhapes,
And gives to aire nothing, a locall habitation,
And a name. Such tricks hath ſtrong imagination,

That if it would but apprehend fome joy,
It comprehends fome bringer of that joy.
Or in the night, imagining fome fear
How eafe is a buſh ſuppós'd a Bear?

*Hip.* But all the ſtory of the night told over,
And all their minds transfigured to together,
More witneſſeth than fancies images,
And grows to ſomething of great conſtancy;
But howfoever, ſtrange, and admirable.

*Enter Lovers, Lysander, Demetrius, Hermaia,
and Helena.*

*Theſ.* Here come the lovers, full of joy and mirth:
Joy, gentle friends, joy, and freſh dayes of Love
Accompany your hearts.

*Lys.* More then to us,
Wait in your royal walks, your boord, you bed.

*Theſ.* Come now, what masks, what dances shall we
have,

To wear away this long age of three hours :

Between our after ſupper, and bed-time?

Where is our usual manager of mirth?

What Revels are in hand? Is there no play,

To eafe the anguſh of a torturing hour?

Call *Egæus*.

*Egæus.* Here mighty *Theſeus*.

*Theſ.* Say, what abridgement have you for this e-
vening?

What mask? What mufick? How ſhall we beguile

The lazy time, if not with ſome delight?

*Eg.* There is a brief how many ſports are rife :

Make choice of which your Highneſſe will fee ſint.

*Lys.* The battrell with the Centaurs to be ſung
By an Athenian Eunuch, to the Harp.

*Theſ.* We'll none of that. That have I told my love
In glory of my kinfman *Hercules*.

*Lys.* The riot of the tipſie *Bachanals*,
Tearing the Thraſian finger in their rage?

*Theſ.* That is an old device, and it was plaid

When I from *Thebes* came laſt a Conqueror,

*Lys.* The thrice three Mufes, mouning for the death
of Learning, late decaſt in beggery.

*Theſ.* That is ſome Satyr keen and criticall,
Not forting with a nuptial ceremony.

*Lys.* A tedious brief Scene of young *Piramus*,
And his love *Thisby*; very tragicall mirth.

*Theſ.* Merry and tragical? Tedious, and brief? That
is, hot ice, and wondrous ſtrange ſnow. How ſhall we
find the concord of this diſcord?

*Eg.* A Play there is my Lord, ſome ten words long,

Which is as brief, as I have known a Play

But by ten words, my Lord, it is too long;

Which makes it tedious. For in all the Play,

There is not one word apt, one Player ſitted.

And tragicall my noble Lord it is:

For *Piramus* therein doth kill himſelf.

Which when I ſaw reheaſt, I muſt conſeſſe,

Made mine eyes water: but more merry tears,

The paflion of loud laughter never ſhed.

*Theſ.* What are they that do play it?

*Eg.* Hard handed men, that work in Athens here,
Which never labour'd in their minds till now:

And now have toiled their unbreathed memories

With this fame Play, against your Nuptials.

*Theſ.* And we will hear it.

O 2

Phil.

A Midsummers nights Dream.

160

Phil. No, my noble Lord, it is not for you. I have heard
It ever, and it is nothing, nothing in the world;
Unleſs you can find ſport in their intents,
Extreanly ſtretcſt, and cond with cruell pain,
To doe you ſervie.

Theſ. I will hear that play. For never any thing,
Can be amilſs, when ſimpleneſs and duty tender it.
Go bring them in, and take your places, Ladies.

Hip. I love not to fee wretchedneſs o'recharged;
And duty in his ſervice perſhing.

Teef. Why gentle ſweet, you ſhall fee no ſuch thing.

Hip. He ſays, they can do nothing in this kind.

Theſ. The kinder we, to give them thanks for nothing:
Our ſport ſhall be, to take what they miſtake;
And what poor duty cannot do, noble reſpect
Takes it in might, not merrit.

Where I have come, great Clearkes have purpoſed
To greet me with premeditated welcomes;

Where I have ſeen them ſhiver and look pale,
Make periods in the midſt of ſentences,
Throttle their prætiz'd accent in their fears,
And in conclusion, dumbly have broke off,
Not paying me a welcome. Truſt me ſweet,
Out of this ſilence yer, I pickt a welcome :

And in the modeſtly of ſearfull duty,
I read as much, as from the ratling tongue
Of ſaucy and audacious eloquence.

Love therefore, and tong-tide ſimplicity,
In leaſt, ſpeak moſt, to my capacity.

Ega. So pleaceth your Grace, the Prologue is addreſſ.
Duk. Let him approach.

Flor. Trum.

Enter Prologue.

Quince.

Pro. If we offend, it is with our good will.
That you ſhould think, we come not to offend,
But with good will. To ſhow our ſimple skill,
That is the true beginning of our end.

Confider then, we come but in deſpight.

We do not come as minding to content you,

Our true inſent is. All for your delight,

We are not here. That you ſhould here repent you,

The Actors are at hand; and by their ſhow,

You ſhall know all, that you are like to know.

Theſ. This fellow doth not ſtand upon points.

Lys. He hath rid his Prologue, like a rough Colt: he
Lys. knows not the flop. A good morall my Lord. It is not
enough to ſpeak, but to ſpeak true.

Hip. Indeed he hath plaid on his Prologue, like a
child on the Recorder, a found, but not in government.

Theſ. His ſpeech was like a tangled chain: nothing
impaired, but all diſordered. Who is the next?

Tawyer with a Trumpet before them.

Enter Pyramus, and Thisby, Wall, Moon-shine, and Lyon.

Pro. Gentles, perchance you wonder at this ſhow,
But wonder on, till truth make all things plain.

This man is Piramus, if you would know;

This beauteous Lady, Thisby is certain.

This man with lyne and rough-caſt, doth preſent

Wall, the vile wall, which did theſe lovers ſunder :

And through walls chink (poor ſouſs) they are content
To whifper. At the which, let no man wonder.

This man with Lanthorn, dog, and bush of thorn,
Preſenteth moon-shine. For if you will know,

By moon-shine did theſe Lovers think no ſorn

To meet at Ninus toomb, there, there to wooe :

This grizly beaſt (which Lyon night by name)
The truſtful Thisby, coming first by night,
Did ſcare away, or rather did affright :

And as he ſled, her mantle the did fall;
Which Lyon vile with bloudy mouth did ſtain,

Anon comes Piramus, ſweet youth and tall,

And finds his gentle Thisbies Mantle ſlain ;

Whereat, with blade, with bloudy blamefull blade,

He bravely broach'd his boiling bloudy breaſt,

And Thisby, tarrying in the Mulberry ſhade,

His dagger drew, and died. For all the reſt,

Let Lion, Moon-shine, Wall, and Lovers twain,

At large diſcourſe, while here they do remain,

Exit all but Wall.

Theſ. I wonder if the Lion be to ſpeak,

Dem. No wonder, my Lord: one Lion may, when
many Aſſes doe.

Exit Lion, Thisby, and Moon-shine.

Wall. In this fame interlude, it doth befall,

That I, one Snowt (by name) preſent a wall :

And ſuch a wall, as I would have you think,

That had in it a crannied hole or chink :

Through which the Lovers, Piramus and Thisby

Did whifper often, very fecreſt.

This loam, this rough-caſt and this ſtone doth ſhow,

That I am that fame Wall; the truth is ſo.

And this the cranny is, right and finifter,

Through which the fearfull Lovers are to whifper.

Theſ. Would you define Lime and Hair to ſpeak better?

Dem. It is the wittieſt partition that ever I heard di-
courſed, my Lord.

Theſ. Piramus draws near the Wall, ſilence.

Enter Pyramus.

Pyr. O grim look'd night, O night with hue ſo black,
O night, which ever art, when day isnot :

O night, O night, alack, alack, alack, alack,

I fear my Thisbies promife is ſorget.

And thou O wall, thou ſweet and lovely wall,

That flands between her fathers ground and mine,

Thou wall, O wall, O ſweet and lovely wall,

Shew me thy chink, to blink through with mine eyne.

Thanks curteous wall, Jove ſhield thee well for this,

But what fee I? No Thisby do I fee,

O wicked wall, through whom I fee no blifs,

Cufft be thy ſtones for thus deceiving me.

Theſ. The wall me-thinks being ſenſible, should curſe
again.

Pyr. No in truth fir, he ſhould not. Deceiving me,
Is Thisbies cue; ſhe is to enter, and I am to ſpy
Her through the wall. You ſhall fee it will fall

Enter Thisbie.

Pat as I told you; yonder ſhe comes.

This. O wall, full often haſt thou heard my moans,
For parting my fair Pyramus, and me.

My cherry lips have often kiff thy ſtones ;

Thy ſtones with Lime and Hair knit up in thee.

Pyr. I hear a voyce; now will I to the chink,
To ſpy and I can fee my Thisbies face. Thisby?

Thisby. My love thou art, my Love I think.

Pyr. Think what thou wilt, I am thy Lovers grace,
And like Limander am I truſtly ſtill.

Thisby. And like Helen till the Fates me kill.

Pyr. Not Shafalus to Procrus, was ſo true.

Thisby. As Shafalus to Procrus, I to you.

Pyr.

A Midsummers nights Dream.

161

Pir. O kiffle me through the hole of this vile wall,
Thisb. I kiffle the walls hole, not your lips at all,
Pir. Wilt thou at Ninnies tomb meet me straight
way?
Thisb. Tide life, tide death, I come without delay.
Wall. Thus have I Wall, my part discharged so:
And being done, thus Wall away doth go.
Exit Clow.
Duk. Now is the morall down between the two
Neighbours.

Dem. No remedy my Lord, when Walls are so wilful,
to hear without warning.

Duk. This is the fillieft stuffe that ere I heard.

Duk. The beft in this kind are but shadowes, and the
worft are no worfe if imagination amend them.

Duk. It muft be your imagination then, and not theirs.
Duk. If we imagine no worfe of them then they of
themselves, they may paffe for excellent men. Here
comes two noble beafts, in a Man and a Lion.

Enter Lion, and Moon-shine,

Lion. You Ladies, you (whofe gentle hearts do fear
The fmallest monftrous moufe that creeps on floore)
May now perchance, both quake and tremble here,
When Lion rough in wildeft rage doth roare,
Then know that I, one Snug the Joiner am
A Lion fell, nor elfe no Lion damme:
For if I should as Lion come in ftrife
Into this place, 'twere pity of my life.

Duk. A very gentle beaſt, and of a good conſcience.

Dem. The very beſt at a beaſt, my Lord, that ere I ſaw.

Lif. This Lion is a very Fox for his valor.

Duk. True, and a Goofe for his diſcretion.

Dem. Not so my Lord: for his valour cannot carry
his diſcretion, and the Fox carries the Goofe.

Duk. His diſcretion I am ſure cannot carry his valor :
for the Goofe carries not the Fox. It is well: leave it to
his diſcretion, and let us hearken to the Moon.

Moon. This Lanthorn doth the horned Moon preſent.

Dem. He should have worn the hornes on his head.

Duk. H: is no crescent, and his hornes are inſ invisible,
within the circumference.

Moon. This lanthorne doth the horned Moon preſent:
My ſelf, the man i' th Moon doth ſee to be.

Duk. This is the greatest error of all the reſt ; the man
should be put into the Lanthorne. How is it eſſe the man
i' th Moon ?

Dem. He dares not come there for the candle.

For you fee, it is already in ſnuffe.

Duk. I am weary of this Moon; would he would
change.

Duk. It appears by his ſmall light of diſcretion, that
he is in the wane: but yet in courteſie, in all reaſon, we
muſt ſtay the time.

Lys. Proceed Moon.

Moon. All that I have to ſay, is to tell you, that the
Lanthorne is the Moon; I, the man in the Moon; this
thorn buſh, my thorn buſh; and this dog, my dog.

Dem. Why all theſe should be in the Lanthorne : for
they are in the Moon. But ſilence, here comes Thisby.

Enter Thisby.

Thif. This is old Ninnies tomb: where is my love?

Lion. Oh.

The Lion roares, Thisby runs off.

Dem. Well roar'd Lion.

Duk. Well run Thisby.

Dut. Well ſhone Moon.

Truly the Moon ſhines with a good grace.

Duk. Well mouz'd Lion.

Dem. And then came Piramus.

Lys. And so the Lion vanifht.

Enter Piramus.

Pir. Sweet Moon, I thank the for thy funny beams,
I thank thee Moon, for ſhining now so bright :

For by thy gracious, golden, glittering ſtreams,
I truſt to taſe of trueſt Thisbies fight.

But ſtay: O ſpight ! but mark, poor Knight,
What dreadful dole is here?

Eyes doe you ſee ! How can it be !

O dainty Duck: O Deer !

Thy mantle good; what ſtaind with bloud !

Approach you Furies fell:

O Fates ! come, come : Cut thred and thrum,
Quaile, cruſh, conclude, and quell.

Duk. This paffion, and the death of a dear friend,
Would goe near to make a man look ſad.

Dut. Befrew my heart, but I pity the man.

Pir. O wherefore Nature, did'ſt thou Lions frame ?

Since Lion vild hath here deflour'd my Deer :

Which is: no, no, which was the faireſt Dame

That liv'd, that lov'd, that lik'd, that look'd with cheer.

Come tears, ſonfound: Out ſword, and wound

The pap of Piramus :

I, that left pap, where heart doth hop;

Thus die I, thus, thus, thus.

Nowam I dead, now am I ſled, my ſoul is in the sky,

Tongue loſe thy light, Moon take thy flight,

Now, die, die, die, die, die.

Dem. No die, but an ace for him: for he is but one.

Lys. Leſſe then an ace man. For he is dead, he is no
thing.

Duk. With the help of a Surgeon, he might yet reco-
ver, and prove an Aſſe.

Dut. How chance the Moon-shine is gone before ?
Thisby comes back, and finds her Lover.

Enter Thisby.

Duk. She will find him by ſtarre-light.

Here ſhe comes, and her paffion ends the play.

Dut. Methinks ſhe should not uſe a long one for ſuch
a Piramus : I hope ſhe will be brief.

Dem. A Moth will turn the ballance, which Piramus,
which Thisby is the better. (eyes.

Lys. She hath ſpied him already, with ſoſe ſweet

Dem. And thus ſhe means, videlicet.

Thisb. Aſleep my Love ? What, dead my Dove ?

O Piramus arife:

Speak, ſpeak. Quite dumb ? Dead, dead ? A tomb

Muſt cover my ſweet eyes.

Theſe Lilly Lips, this cherry noſe,

Theſe yellow Cowſlip cheeks

Are gone, are gone: Lovers make mone:

His eyes were green as Leeks.

O fifters three, come come to me,

With hands as pale as Milk,

Lay them in gore, ſince you have ſhore

With ſheeres, this thred of filk.

Tongue not a word: Come truſty ſword :

Come blade ; my breſt imbrue :

O 3

And

The MERCHANT of VENICE.

Actus Primus.

Enter *Anthony, Salarino, and Salanio*.

Anth.

N tooth I know not why I am so fad,
It wearies me: you fay it wearies you;
But how I caught it, found it, or came by it,
What ftaff't is made of, whereof it is born,
I am to learn : and fuch a Want-wit fadneſs makes of me,
That I have much adoe to know my felf.

Sal. Your mind is toffing on the Ocean,
There where your Argoſes with portly fail
Like Signiorcs and rich Burgers on the flood,
Or as it were the Pageants of the ſea,
Do over-peer the petty Traffickeers
That curſtie to them, do them reverenc,
As they flye by them with their woven wings.

Sola. Believe me fir, had I fuch venture forth,
The better part of my affections would
Be with my hopes abroad. I should be ſtill
Plucking the graſs to know where fits the winde,
Peering in Maps for ports, and peers, and rodes:
And every objeſt that might make me fear
Misfortune to my ventures, out of doubt
Would make me ſad.

Sal. My wind cooling my broth,
Would blow me to an Ague, when I thought
What harm a winde too great might do at ſea,
I ſhould not fee the fandy hour-glaſs run,
But I ſhould think of ſhallowes, and of flats,
And fee my wealthy Andrew docks in ſand,
Vailing her high top lower then her ribs
To kifs her buriall; should I go to Church
And fee the holy edifice of ſtone,
And not bethink me ſtraight of dangerous rocks,
Which touching but my gentle Veffels ſide
Would ſcatter all her ſpices on the ſtream,
Enrobe the roring waters with my filks,
And in a word, but even now worth this,
And now worth nothing. Shall I have the thought
To think on this, and ſha! I lack the thought
That fuch a thing bechan'd would make me ſad ?
But tell not me, I know *Anthony*
Is ſad to think upon his merchandize.

Anth. Believe me no, I thank my fortune for it,
My ventures are not in one bottome truſted,
Nor to one place; nor is my whole eſtate
Upon the fortune of this preſent year:

Therefore my merchandize makes me not ſad :

Sola. Why then you are in love.

Anth. Fie, fie.

Sola. Not in love neither ! then let us ſay you are ſad
Because you are not merry ; and 'twere as eafe
For you to laugh and leap, and ſay you are merry
Because you are not ſad. Now by two-headed Janus,
Nature hath fram'd ſtrange fellows in her time :
Some that will evermore peep through their eyes,
And laugh like Parrats at a bag-piper.

And other of fuch vineger aspeſt,
That they'll not ſhow their teeth in way of ſmile,
Though Nestor ſwear the jeſt be laughable.

Enter *Baffanio, Lorenſo, and Gratiano*.

Sola. Here comes Baffanio,

Your moſt noble Kinfman,
Gratiano, and Lorenſo. Fare ye well,
We leave you now with better company.

Sala. I would have ſtaid till I had made you merry,
If worthier friends had not prevented me,

Anth. Your worth is very dear in my regard.

I take it your own buſineſs calls on you,
And you embrace th'occafion to depart.

Sal. Good morrow my good Lords.

(when ?

Baff. Good ſigniorcs both, when ſhall we laugh ? ſay,
You grow exceeding ſtrange: muſt it be ſo ?

Sal. We'll make our leſures to attend on yours.

Exeunt *Salarino, and Salarino*.

Lord. My Lord *Baffanio*, ſince you have found *Anthony*
We two will leave you, but at dinner time
I pray you have in minde where we muſt meet,

Baff. I will not fail you.

Grat. You look not well Signior *Anthony*,
You have too much reſpect upon the world :
They loofe it that do buy it with much care,
Believe me you are marvellouſly chang'd.

Anth. I hold the world but as the world, Gratiano,
A ſtage, where every man muſt play a part,
And minea ſad one.

Grati. Let me play the fool,

With mirth and laughter: let old wrinckles come,
And let my Liver rather heat with wine,
Then my heat cool with mortifying groans.

Why should a man whose bloud is warm within,
Sit like his Grandſire, cut in Alablaſter ?

Sleep when he wakes ? and creep into the Jaundies.

By

The Merchant of Venice.

ning, but at the next turning of all on your left; many
at the very next turning, turn of no hand, but turn down
indirectly to the Jewes house.

Gob. Be Gods fonties 'twill be a hard way to hit, can
you tell me whether one Launcelet that dwells with him,
dwell with him or no.

Laun. Talk you of yong Maſter Launcelet, mark me
now, new will I raile the waters; talk you of yong Ma-
ſter Launcelet ?

God. No Maſter fir, but a poor mans ſon, his Father
though I fay't is an honest exceeding poor man, and
God be thanked well to live.

Laun. Well, let his Father be what a will, we talk of
yong Maſter Launcelet.

Gob. Your worships friend and Launcelet.

Laun. But I pray you ergo old man, ergo I befeech you,
talk you of yong Maſter Launcelet.

Gob. Of Launcelet, ant pleate your Maſterfir.

Laun. Ergo Maſter Launcelet, talk not of maſter Laun-
celet Father, for the yong gentleman according to faces and
deſtinies, and fuch odde layings, the fifters three, and fuch
branches of learning, is indeed decaefed, or as you
would fay in plain teames, gone to heaven.

Gob. Marry God forbid, the boy was the very ſtaſſe
of my age, my very prop.

Laun. Do I look like a cudgell or a hovell-poſt, a ſtaſſ
or a prop: do you know me Father.

Gob. Alack the day, I know you not young Gentleman,
but I pray you tell me, is my boy, God reſt his foul,
alive or dead.

Laun. Do you not know me Father,

Gob. Alack fir I am ſand blind, I know you not.

Laun. Nay, indeed if you had your eyes you might
faile of the knowing me: it is a wife Father that knowes
his own child. Well, old man, I will tell you news of your
fonne, give me your bleffing, truth will come to light,
murder cannot be hid long, a mans fonne may, but in the
end truth will not.

Gob. Pray you fir ſand up, I am ſure you are not
Launcelet my boy.

Laun. Pray you let's have no more fooling about it, but
give me your bleffing: I am Launcelet your boy that was,
your fon that is, your child that ſhall be.

Gob. I cannot think you are my fon.

Laun. I know not what I ſhall think of that: but I am
Launcelet the Jewes man, and I am, ſure Margery your
wife is my mother.

Gob. Her name is Margery indeed, I'le be fworn if
thou be Launcelet, thou art mine own ſlesh and bloud :
Lord worſhip might he be, what a beard haſt thou got ;
thou haſt got more hair on thy chin, then Dobbin my
philhorfe has on his taile.

Laun. It ſhould ſeem then that Dobbins taile growes
backward. I am ſure he had more hair of his tail then I
have on my face when I laſt ſaw him.

Gob. Lord how art thou chang'd: how doſt thou and
thy Maſter agree, I have brought him a preſent; how
gree you now?

Laun. Well, well, but for mine own part, as I have
fet up my reſt to run away, so I will not reſt till I have run
fome ground; my Maſter's a very Jew, give him a pre-
ſent, give him a halter, I am famiſht in his ſervice. You
may tell every finger I have with my ribs; father I am
glad you are come, give me your preſent to one Maſter
Baffanio, who indeed gives rare new Liveries, if I ſerve
not him, I will runn as farre as God has any ground, O

rare for me, here comes the man, to him Father, for I
am a Jew if I ſerve the Jew any longer.

Enter Baffanio with a follower or two.

Baff. You may do so, but let it be ſo haſted that ſup-
per be ready at the fartheſt by five of the clock: see theſe
Letters delivered, put the Liveries to making, and deſire
Gratiano to come anon to my lodging.

Laun. To him Father.

Gob. God bleſſs your worſhip.

Baff. Gramercy, wouſ'd thou ought with me.

Gob. Here's my ſon fir, a poor boy.

Laun. Not a poor boy fir, but the rich Jews man that
would fir as my Father ſhall ſpeciſe.

Gob. He hath a great infection fir, as one would ſay
to ſerve.

Laun. Indeed the ſhort and the long is, I ſerve the
Jew, and have a deſire as my Father ſhall ſpeciſe.

Gob. His Maſter and he (lavin your worſhips reve-
rence) are ſcarce catercoſins.

Laun. To be brief, the very truth is, that the Jew
having done me wrong, doth cauſe me as my Father being
I hope an old man ſhall frutifie unto you.

Gob. I have here a diſh of Doves that I would beſtow
upon your worſhip, and my ſuit is.

Laun. In very brief, the ſuit is impertinent to my
ſelf, as your worſhip ſhall know by this honest old man,
and though I ſay it, though old man yet poor man my
Father.

Baff. One ſpeak for both, what would you ?

Laun. Serve you fir.

Gob. This is the very defect of the matter fir.

Baff. I know thee well, thou haſt obtain'd thy ſuit,
Shylock thy Maſter ſpoke with me this day,
And hath prefer'd thee, if it be preferment
To leave a rich Jew's ſervice, to become
The follower of so poor a Gentleman.

Clo. The old proverb is very well parted between my
Maſter Shylock and you fir, you have the grace of God
fir, and he hath enough.

Baff. Thou (peak't it well; go Father with thy fonne,
Take leave of thy old Maſter, and enquire.)
My lodging out, give him a Livery

More garded then his ſellows: ſee it done.

Clo. Father in, I cannot get a ſervice, no, I have ne're
a tongue in my head well: if any man in Italy have a
fairer table which doth offer to ſwear upon a book, I
chall have good fortune; go too, here's a ſimple line of
life, here's a ſmall trifle of wives, alas, fifteen wives is
nothing, a leaven widowdes and nine maids is a ſimple
coming in for one man, and then to ſcape drowning
a thrice, and to be in perill of my life with the edge of a
featherbed, here are ſimple ſcapes: well if Fortune be a
woman, ſhe's a good wench for this gere: Father come,
l'le take my leave of the Jew in the twinkling.

Exit Clown.

Baff. I pray thee good Leonardo think on this,
Theſe things being bought and orderly beſtowed
Return in haſte, for I do feast to night.

My beſt eſteem'd acquaintance, he thee gone,

Lo. My beſt endeavours ſhall be done herein.

Exit Leonardo.

Enter Gratiano.

Gra. Where's your Maſter.

Leon.

The Merchant of Venice.

169

Leon. Yonder fir he walks,
Gra. Signior Baffanio.
Baf. Gratiano.
Gra. I have a suit to you.
Baf. You have obtain'd it.
Gra. You muft not deny me, I muft go with you to
Belmont.

Baf. Why then you muſt : but hear thee Gratiano,
Thou art too wild, too rude, and bold of voyce,
Parts that become thee happily enough,
And in ſuch eyes as ours appear not faults ;

Baf. You have obtain'd it.
But where they are not known, why there they ſhow
Something too liberall, pray thee take pain

To allay with ſome cold drops of modeſt
Thy skipping ſpirit, leaſt through thy wild behaviour
I be miſconſterd in the place I go to,
And loſe my hopes.

Gra. Signior Baffanio, hear me,
If I do not put on a ſober habit,
Talk with reſpect, and ſwear but now and then,
Wear prayer-books in my pocket, look demurely,
Nay more, while Grace is ſaying, hood mine eyes

Thus with my hat, and ſigh and ſay Amen,
Life all the obſervance of civility,

Like one well ſtudied in a ſad oftent

To pleafe his Grandam, never tnumt me more.

Baf. Well, we shall feele your bearing.

Gra. Nay but I barre to night, you shall not gage me
By what we doe to night.

Baf. No that were pitty.

I would entreat you rather to put on
Your boldeſt ſuit of mirth, for we have friends
That purpose merriment : but fare you well,
I have ſome bufineſſe.

Gra. And I muſt to Lorenzo and the reſt,
But we will viſit you at ſupper time.

Exeunt.

### Enter Jefſica and the Clown.

Jef. I am forry thou wilt leave my Father ſo,
Our houſe is hell, and thou a devil
Difſt rob it of my taſte of tediuoffeſſe ;
But fare thee well, there is a Ducat for thee,
And Lancelет, ſoon at ſupper ſhalt thou ſee
Lorenzo, who is thy Maſters gueſt,
Give him this Letter, doe it ſecreſtly,
And ſo farewell : I would not have my Father
See me talk with thee.

Clo. Adieu, teares exhibit my tongue, moſt beaſutfull
Pagan, moſt ſweet Jew, if a Chriſtian did not play the
knave and get thee, I am much deceiv'd ; but adieu, theſe
fooſliſh drops doe ſomewhat drown my manly ſpirit :
adieu.

Jef. Farewell good Lancelет.
Alack, what hainous ſin is it in me
To be aſhamed to be my Father's child,
But though I am a daughter to his blood,
I am not to his manners : O, Lorenzo,
If thou keep promife I ſhall end this ſtrife,
Become a Chriſtian, and thy loving Wife.

### Enter Gratiano, Lorenzo, Salarino, and Solania.
Lo. Nay, we will ſlinke away in ſupper time,
Difguife us at my lodging, and return all in an hour.

Gra. We have not made good preparation.

Sal. We have not ſpoke me yet of Torch-bearers,

Sol. 'Tis vile unſeſſe it may be quaintly ordered,
And better in my mind not undertook.

Lor. 'Tis now but four a clock, we have two hours
To furniſh us ; friend Lancelet what's the newes ?
Enter Lancelet with a letter.

Lan. And it ſhall pleafe you to break up this, it ſhall
feem to ſignifie.

Lo. I know the hand, in faith 'tis a fair hand,
And whiter then the paper it writ on,

I the fair hand that writ.

Gra. Love-newes in faith.

La. By your leave fir.

Lor. Whether goeſt thou ?

La. Marry to bid my old Maſter the Jef to ſup to
night with my new Maſter the Chriſtian.

Lor. Hold here, take this, tell gentle Jefſica

I will not fail her, I ſpeak it privately :

Go Gentlemen, will you prepare you for this Maske to
night ?

I am provided of a Torch-bearer.

Exit Clown.

Sal. I marry, i'le be gone about it ſtraight.

Sol. And ſo will I.

Lor. Meet me and Gratiano at Gratianos lodging

Some hour hence.

Sal. 'Tis good we doe ſo.

Exit.

Gra. Was not that Letter from fair Jefſica?

Lo. I muſt needs tell thee all, ſhe hath directed

How I ſhall take her from her Fathers houſe,

What gold and jewels ſhe is furniſht with,

What Pages ſuit ſhe hath in readineſſe :

If e're the Jef her Father come to heaven,

It will be for his gentle daughters ſake ;

And never dare misfortune croſſe her foot,

Unleſſe ſhe doe it under this excufe,

That ſhe is ilſue to a faithleſſe Jef :

Come go with me, perſufe this as thou goeſt,

Fair Jefſica ſhalı be my Torch-bearer.

Exit.

### Enter Jef, and his man that was the Clown.

Jef. Well, thou ſhalt fee, thy eyes ſhall be thy judge,

The difference of old Shylocks and Baffanio ;

What Jefſica, thou ſhalt not gurmandize

As thou ſhalt done with me : what Jefſica ?

And ſleep, and ſnore, rend apparell out.

Why Jefſica I ſay.

Clo. Why Jefſica.

Shy. Who bids thee call ? I doe not bid thee call.

Clo. Your worſhip was wont to tell me
I could doeth nothing without bidding.

### Enter Jefſica.

Jef. Call you ? what is your will ?

Shy. I am bid forth to ſupper Jefſica,

There are my Keyes: but wherefore ſhould I go ?

I am not bid for love, they flatter me,

But yet I'le go in hate, to feed upon

The prodigall Chriſtian. Jefſica my girle,

Look to my houſe, I am right loath to go,

There is ſome ill a brewing towards my reſt,

For I did dream of money bags to night.

Clo. I beſeech you fir go, my young Maſter

Doth expect your reproach.

Shy. So do I his.

Clo. And they have confipired together, I will not ſay
you ſhall fee a Maske, but if you doe, then it was not for
nothing that my nose ſell a bleeding on black Munday

laſt,

The Merchant of Venice.

170

lafft, at fix a clock ith' morning, falling out that year on
Althwesday was four year in th' afternoon.

Shy. What are their masks ? hear you me Iefica,
Lock up my doores, and when you hear the Drum
And the vile fequaling of the wry-neckt Fife,
Clamber not you up to the Cafements then,
Nor thrust your head into the publick street
To gaze on Christitian fools with varnicht faces:
But stop my houſes eares, I mean my Cafements,
Let not the found of shallow foppery enter
My fober houſe. By Iacobs ſtaffe I wear,
I have no minde of feasting forth to night :
But I will go ; go you before me firrah,
Say I will come.

Clow. I will go before fir.
Miftrefle look out at window for all this :
There will come a Christitian by,
Will be worth a Jew's eye.

Shy. What fayes that fool of Hagars off-Spring?
ha,

Ief. His words were farewell miftris, nothing else.

Shy. The patch is kind enough, but a huge feeder :
Snail-flow in profit, but fleeps by day
More then the wild-cat: drones hive not with me,
Therefore I part with him, and part with him
To one that I would have him help to wafe
His borrowed purſe. Well Iefica go in,
Perhaps I will return immediately ;
Doe as I bid you, flut doors after you, faſt bind, faſt
finde,

A proverb never ſtale in thrifty minde. Exit.

Ief. Farewell, and if my fortune be not croſt,
I have a Father, you a Daughter loft, Exit.

Enter the Maskers, Gratiano and Salino.

Gra. This is the penthouse under which Lorenzo
Deſired us to make a ſtand.

Sal. His hour is almost paſt.

Gra. And it is marvell he out-dwells his hour,
For lovers ever run before the clock.

Sal. O ten times after Kenus Pigeons ſie
To ſteal loves bonds new made, then they are wont
To keep obliged faith unforfeited.

Gra. That ever holds, who rifeth from a ſeaf
With that keen appetite that he fits down ?
Where is the Horic that doth untread again
His tedious meaſures with the unbated fire
That he did pace them firſt ? all things that are,
Are with more ſpirit chafed then en joy'd.
How lik a younger or a prodigall
The skarfed barke puts from her native bay,
Hugg'd and embraced by the ſtrumpet winde:
How like a prodigall ſhe doth return
With over-wither'd ribs and ragged ſailes,
Lean, rent, and begger'd by the ſtrumpet winde ?

Enter Lorenzo.

Salino. Here comes Lorenzo, more of this hereafter.

Loren. Sweet friends, your patience for my long abode,

Not I, but my affaires have made you wait :
When you shall pleafe to play the thieves for Wives
I'le watch as long for you then : approach

Here dwells my Father Jew. Hoa, who's within ?

Iefica above.

Ief. Who are you ? tell me for more certainty,
Albeit I'le wear that I doe know your tongue.

Lor. Lorenzo, and thy Love.

Ief. Lorenzo certain, and my love indeed,
For who love I so much ? and now who knows
But you Lorenzo, whether I am yours ?

Lo. Heaven and thy thoughts are witneſs that thou art.
Ief. Here, catch this casket, it is worth the pains,
I am glad 'tis night, you doe not look on me,
For I am much afham'd of my exchange :
But love is blind, and lovers cannot fee

The pretty follies that themselves commit,
For if they could, Cupid himself would bluſh
To fee me thus tranformed to a boy.

Lor. Defeend, for you muſt be my torch-bearer.

Ief. What, muſt I hold a Candle to my ſhame ?
They in themselves goodfooth are too too light,

Why, 'tis an office of diſcovery, Love,
And I should be obſcur'd.

Lor. So you are ſweet,
Even in the lovely garniſt of a boy: but come at once,
For the close night doth play the run-away,
And we are ſtand for at Baffanio's ſeaf.

Ief. I will make ſaſt the doors and guild my ſelf
With ſome more Ducats, and be with you ſtraight,

Gra. Now by my Hood, a Gentile, and no Jew.
Lor. Befhrew me but I love her heartily.

For ſhe is wife, if I can judge of her,
And fair ſhe is, if that mine eyes be true,
And true ſhe is, as ſhe hath prov'd her ſelf :

And therefore like her ſelf, wife, fair, and true,
Shall ſhe be placed in my conſtant ſoul.

Enter Iefica.

What, art thou come ? on gentlemen, away,
Our masking mates by this time for us stay.

Exit.

Enter Anthonio.

Ant. Who's there ?

Gra. Signior Anthonio.

Ant. Fie, ſie, Gratiano, where are all the reſt ?
'Tis nine a clock, our friends all ſlay for you,
No maske to night, the wind is come about,
Baffanio prefently will go aboord,
I have ſent twenty out to seek for you.

Gra. I am glad on't, I defire no more delight
Then to be under fail, and gone to night. Extent.

Enter Portia with Morrocho, and both their trains.

Por. Go, draw afide the curtains, and diſcover
The ſeverall Caskets to this noble Prince :
Now make your choyſe.

Mor. The firſt of gold, who this inſcription beares,
Who chooſeth me, ſhall gain what men defire,
The ſecond filver, which this promife carries,
Who chooſeth me, ſhall get as much as he deferves.
This third, dull lead, with warning all as blunt,
Who chooſeth me, muſt give and hazard all he hath.
How ſhall I know if I doe chooſe the right ?

Por.

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Por. The one of them contains my picture Prince,
If you choose that, then I am yours withall.

Mar. Some God direct my judgement, let me see,
I will survey the inferences, back again :
What fayes this leaden casket ?
Who choofeth me, muft give and hazard all he hath.
Muft give, for what ? for lead ?
This casket threatens men that hazard all,
Doe it in hope of fair advantages :

A golden mind floops not to showes of drosse,
I'le then nor give nor hazard ought for lead.
What fayes the Silver with her virgin hue?
Who choofeth me, shall get as much as he deferves.
As much as he deferves, paufe there Morocho,
And weigh thy value with an even hand,
If thou beest rated by thy eſtimation
Thou doſt deferve enough, and yet enough
May not extend ſo far as to the Lady :
And yet to be aſeare of my deferving,
Were but a weak diſabling of my ſelf.
As much as I deferve, why that's the Lady.

I doe in birth deferve her, and in fortunes,
In graces, and in qualities of breeding :
But more then then, in love I doe deferve.
What if I ſtray'd no farther, but choofe here ?
Let's fee once more this faying grav'd in gold.
Who choofeth me, who gain what many men define :
Why that's the Lady, all the world defires her :
From the four corners of the earth they come
To kiffe this fhrine, this mortall breathing Saint.
The Hircanian deferts, and the vaſt wildes
Of wide Arabia are as through fares now:
For Princes to come view fair Portia.

The watery Kingdome, whose ambitious head
Spets in the face of heaven, is no barre
To ſtop the forrain ſpirits, but they come
As ore a Brook to fee fair Portia.
One of these three contains her heavenly picture.
Is't like that Lead contains her ? 'twere damnation
To think ſo bafe a thought, it were too groſse
To rib her fearcure in the obſcure grave :
O ſhall I think in Silver ſhe's immur'd
Being ten time undervalued to tri'd gold ;
O ſinfull thought, never ſo richa Jem
Was ſet in worſe then gold ! They have in England
A Coin that beares the figure of an Angell
Stampt in gold, but that's inſculpt upon :
But here an Angell in a golden Bed
Lies all within. Deliver me the Key ;
Here doe I choofe, and thrive I as I may.

Por. There take it Prince, and if my form lie there
Then I am yours.
Mor. O hell ! what have we here, a carrion death,
Within whose empty eye there is a written ſcrowl ;
All that glisters is not gold,
Often have you heard that told ;
Many a man his life hath told
But my outſide to behold ;
Gilded timber doe wormes infold :
Had you been as wife as bold,
Young in limbs, in judgement old,
Tour anſwer had not been inſerold :
Fare you well, your ſuit is cold,

Mor. Cold indeed, and labour loft,

Then farewell heat, and welcome froſt :
Portia adieu, I have too griev'd a heart
To take a tedious leave : thus loofers part.

Por. A gentle riddance : draw the curtains, go :
Let all of his complexion choofe me ſo.

Enter Salarino and Solanio.

Flo. Cornets.

Sal. Why man I ſaw Baffanio under fail,
With him is Gratiano gone along :
And in their ſhip I am ſure Lorenzo is not.

Sol. The villain ſew with outeries rais'd the Duke,
Who went with him to ſearch Baffanio's ſhip.

Sal. He comes too late, the ſhip was under fail :
But there the Duke was given to underſtand
That in a Gondilo were ſeen together
Lorenzo and his amorous Jeſſica.

Befides, Anthonio certified the Duke
They were not with Baffanio in his ſhip.

Sol. I never heard a paſſion ſo confus'd,
So ſtrange, outragious, and ſo variable,
As the dog ſew did utter in the streets :
My Daughter, O my Ducats, O my Daughter,
Fed with a Chriſtian, O my Chriſtian Ducats !
Juitice, the Law, my Ducats, and my Daughter :
A ſealed bag, two ſealed bags of Ducats,
Of double Ducats, ſtoin from me by my Daughter,
And Jewels, two rich and precious Stones,
Stoln by my Daughter : juſtice, find the Girl,
She hath the Stones upon her, and the Ducats.

Sal. Why all the Boyes in Venice follow him :
Crying his Stones, his Daughter, and his Ducats,

Sol. Let good Anthonio look he keep his day
Or he shall pay for this.

Sal. Marry well remembred,
I reaſon'd with a Frenchman yefterday,
Who told me, in the narrow feas that part
The French and English, there miſcarred
A veſſell of our countrey richly fraught :
I thought upon Anthonio when he told me,
And wight in ſilence that it were not his.

Sol. You were beſt to tell Anthonio what you hear,
Yet doe not ſuddenly, for it may grieve him.

Sal. A kirder Gentleman treads not the earth,
I ſaw Baffanio and Anthonio part,
Baffanio told him he would make ſome ſpeed
Of his return : he anſwered, doc not ſo,
Stubber not buſineſſe for my ſake Baffanio,
But ſtay the very riping of the time,
And for the ſew's bond which he hath of me,
Let it not enter in your mind of love :

Be merry, and employ your chiefest thoughts
To courtſhip, and ſuch fair oſtents of love
As ſhall conveniently become you there ;
And even there his eye being big with tears,

Turning his face, he put his hand behind him ;
And with affection wondrous ſenſible
He wrung Baffanio's hand, and ſo they parted.

Sal. I think he only loves the world for him,
I pray thee let us go and find him out.
And quicken his embraced heaſineſſe
With ſome delight or other.

Sal. Doe we ſo.

Exeunt.

Enter Neriffa and a Serviter.

Ner. Quick, quick I pray the ee, draw the curtain (trait,

P 2

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The Prince of Arragon hath tane his oath,
And comes to his election prefently.

Enter Arragon, his train, and Portia.
Flor. Cornets.

Por. Behold there stand the caskets noble Prince,
If you choofe that wherein I am contain'd,
Straight shall our nuptiall rights be solemniz'd :
But if thou fail, without more speech my Lord,
You muft be gone from hence immediately.

Ar. I am enjoy'd by oath to obferve three things :
First, never to unfold to any one
Which casket 'twas I choofe, next, if I fail
Of the right casket, never in my life
To wooe a Maid in way of marriage :
Lastly, if I doe fail in fortune of my choyfe,
Immediately to leave you, and be gone.

Por. To thete in junctions every one doth fwear
That comes to hazard for my worthleſſe ſelfe.

Ar. And ſo have I addreſſt me, fortune now
To my hearts hope: gold, silver, and bare lead.
Who chooſeth me, muſt give and hazard all he hath.
You ſhall look fairer ere I give or hazard.

What fayes the golden chefſt, ha, let me fee :
Who chooſeth me, ſhall gain what many men define :
What many men define, that many may be meant
By the fool multitude that choofe by ſhow,
Not learning more then the fond eye doth teach,
Which payes not to th'interior, but like the Martlet
Builds in the weather on the outward wall,
Even in the force and rode of cauſaury.
I will not choofe what many men define,
Because I will not jump with common ſpirits,
And rank me with the barbarous multitudes,
Why then to thee thou Silver treaſure houſe,
Tell me once more, what title thou doſt bear ;
Who chooſeth me, ſhall get as much as he deferves :
And well faid too, for who ſhall go about
To cozen fortune, and be honourable
Without the ſtamp of merit, let none prefume
To wear an undeterved dignity :
O that eſtates, degrees, and offices,
Were not deriv'd corruptly, and that clear honour
Were purchaſt by the merit of the wearer :
How many then ſhould cover that ſtand bare ?
How many be commanded that command ?
How much low pleafantry would then be gleaned
From the true feed of honour ? And how much honour
Pickt from the chaffe and ruine of the times,
To be new varnifhe: Well, but to my choyſe,
Who chooſeth me, ſhall get as much as he deferves.
I will ſaſſume defert ; give me a key for this,
And infantly unlock my fortunes here.

Por. Too long a paſſe for that which you find there.

Ar. What's here, the portrait of a blinking idiot
Prefenting me a ſeedule, I will read it :
How much unlike art thou to Portia ?
How much unlike my hopes and my defervings ?
Who chooſeth me, ſhall have as much as he deferves.
Did I deferve no more then a fools head ?
Is that my prize ? are my deferts no better ?
Po. To offend and judge are diſtinct offices,
And of oppofed natures.

Ar. What is here ?

The fire ſeaven times tried this,

Seaven times tried that judgement is,
That did never choofe amſi's,
Some there be that ſhadows kijſe,
Such have but a ſhadowes blilſe :
There be fools alive I wis
Silver'd ore, and ſo was this :
Take what Wife you will to bed,
I will ever be your head :
So be gone fir, you are ſped.

Ar. Still more fool I ſhall appear
By the time I linger here,
With one fools head I came to wooe,
But I go away with two.
Sweet adieu, I'le keep my oath,
Patiently to bear my wroath.

Por. Thus hath the candle fing'd the moth :
O theſe deliberate fools when they do choofe,
They have the wifdome by their wit to looke.

Ner. The ancient ſaying is no hereſiſe,
Hanging and wiving goes by deſtinity.

Por. Come draw the curtain Nerriffa.

Enter Moſſenger.

Mef. Where is my Lady ?

Por. Here, what would my Lord ?

Mef. Madam, there is a-lighted at your gate
A young Venetian, one that comes before
To ſignifie th'approaching of his Lord,
From whom he bringeth ſenſible regreſts ;
To wit (befides commends and courteous breath)

Gifts of rich value ; yet I have not ſeen
So likely an Ambaffadour of love,

A day in April never came ſo ſweet
To ſhow how coſtly Summer was at hand ;
As this fore-spurrer comes before his Lord,

Por. No more I pray thee, I am half a ſeard
Thou wilt fay anon he is ſome kin to thee,
Thou ſpend it ſuch high-day wit in praiing him :

Come come Nerriffa, for I long to ſee
Quick Cupids ? Pott, that comes ſo manerly.

Ner. Baffanio Lord, love if thy will it be. Extenſi.

Adus Tertius.

Enter Solanio and Salarino.

Sol. Now, what newes on the Ryalto ?

Sal. Why yet it lives there uncheckt, that *Anthony*
hath a ſhip of rich lading wrackt on the narrow Seas;
the Goodwins I think they call the place, a very dangerous
flat, and fatall, where the carcasses of many a tall ſhip
lie buried, as they fay, if my goſſips report be an honest
woman of her word.

Sol. I would ſhe were as lying a goſſip in that, as ever
knapt Ginger, or made her neighbours believe ſhe wept
for the death of a third husband : but it is true, without
any ſlips of prolixy, or croſſing the plain high-way of
talk, that the good *Anthony*, the honest *Anthoni*, O that
I had a title good enough to keep his name company !

Sal. Come, the full ſtop.

Sol. Ha, what fayſeth thou, why the end is, he hath
loft a ſhip.

Sal.

The Merchant of Venice.

173

Sal. I would it might prove the end of his loffes.

Sol. Let me say Amen betimes, leaft the Devil erroſe my prayer, for here he comes in the likeneſſe of a Jew. How now *Shylocke*, what newes among the Merchants? Enter *Shylocke*.

Shy. You knew, none so well, none so well as you, of my daughters flight.

Sol. That's certain, I for my part knew the Tailor that made the wings she flew withall.

Sol. And *Shylocke* for his own part knew the bird was fledg'd, and then it is the complexion of them all to leave the Dam.

Shy. She is damn'd for it.

Sol. That's certain, if the devil may be her Judge.

Shy. My own fleſh and blood to rebell.

Sol. Out upon it old carrion, rebels it at thefe years.

Shy. I say my Daughter is my fleſh and blood.

Sol. There is more difference between thy fleſh and hers, then between Jet and Ivory, more between your bloods, then there is between red wine and rhenniſh: but tell us, doe you hear whether *Anthony* have had any loſſe at fea or no?

Shy. There I have another bad match, a bankrout, a prodigall, who dare ſcarce ſhow his head on the Ryalta; a beggar that was us'd to come ſo fmug upon the Mart: let him look to his bond, he was want to call me Uſurer, let him look to his bond, he was want to lend money for a Chriſtian curſie, let him look to his bond.

Sol. Why I am ſure if he forfeit, thou wilt not take his fleſh, what's that good for?

Shy. To bait this withall, if it will feed nothing else, it will feed my revenge, he hath diſrac'd me, and hin'dred me halſe a million, taught at my loſſes, mockt at my gains, ſcorned my Nation, thwarted my bargains, cool'd my friends, heated mine enemies, and what's the reaſon ? I am a Jew: Hath not a Jew eyes? hath not a Jew hands, organs, dimenſions, ſenſes, affeſtions, paſſions ? fed with the fame food, hurt with the fame weapons, ſubjeſt to the fame diſeaſes, healed by the fame means, warm'd and cooled by the fame Winter and Summer as a Chriſtian is ? if you prick us, doe we not bleed ? if you tickle us, doe we not laugh ? if you poyſon us, doe we not die ? and if you wrong us, ſhall we not revenge ? if we are like you in the reſ, we will reſemble you in that. If a Jew wrong a Chriſtian, what is his humilität, revenge ? If a Chriſtian wrong a Jew, what should his ſufferance be by a Chriſtian example ? why revenge. The villany you teach me I will execute, and it shall go hard but I will better the inſtruction,

Enter a man from Anthonio.

Gentlemen, my Maſter *Anthony* is at his house, and defures to ſpeak with you both.

Sal. We have been up and down to ſee him.

Enter *Tuball*.

Sol. Here comes another of the tribe, a third cannot be matcht, unleſſe the devil himself turn Jew.

Exeunt Gentlemen.

Shy. How now *Tuball*, what newes from Genowa? haſt thou found my daughter ?

Tub. I often came where I did hear of her, but cannot find her.

Shy. Why there, there, there, there, a Diamond gone coſt me two thouſand Ducats in Franckford, the curſe never fell upon our Nation till now, I never felt it till now, two thouſand Ducats in that, and other preci-

ous, precious jewels: I would my daughter were dead at my foot, and the jewels in her ear: would she were heart at my foot, and the Ducats in her Coffin: no newes of them, why fo ? and I know not how much is spent in the ſearch: why then loſſe upon loſſe, the thief gone with ſo much, and ſo much to find the thief, and no ſatisfaction, no revenge, nor no ill luck ſtriring, but what lights a my shoulders, no ſighs but a my breathing, no teares but a my ſhedding.

Tub. Yes, other men have ill luck too, *Anthony* as I heard in *Genowa*.

Shy. What, what, what, ill luck, ill luck.

Tub. Hath an Argofie caſt away comming from Tri-
polis.

Shy. I thank God, I thank God, is it true, is it true?

Tn. I ſpoke with ſome of the Saylers that eſcaped the wrack.

Shy. I thank thee good *Tuball*, good newes, good newes: ha, ha, here in *Genowa*.

Tn. Your daughter spent in *Genowa*, as I heard, one night fourſcore Ducats.

Shy. Thou ſtick't a Dagger in me, I ſhall never fee my gold again, fourſcore Ducats at a ſitting, fourſcore Ducats.

Tn. There came divers of *Anthony's* Creditors in my company to *Venice*, that ſwear he cannot choose but break.

Shy. I am very glad of it, I'll plague him, I'll torture him, I am glad of it.

Tub. One of them ſhewed me a Ring that he had of your Daughter for a Monkie.

Shy. Out upon her, thou tortureſt me *Tuball*, it was my Turkis, I had it of *Leah* when I was a Batchelor: I would not have given it for a wilderneſſe of Monkies.

Tub. But *Anthony* is certainly undone.

Shy. Nay, that's true, that's very true, go *Tuball*, fee me an Officer, beſpeak him a fortnight before, I will have the heart of him if he forfeit, for were he ought of *Venice*, I can make what merchandize I will: go *Tuball*, and meet meat at our Synagogue, go good *Tuball*, at our Synagogue *Tuball*.

Exeunt.

Enter Baſſanio, Portia, Gratiano, and all their train.

Por. I pray you tarry, paſſe a day or two
Before you hazard; for in choosing 'wrong
I loſſe your company; therefore forbear a while,
There's something tells me (but it is not love)
I would not loſſe you, and you know your self,
Hate counſells not in such a quality;
But leaſt you should not understand me well,
And yet a maiden hath no tongue but thought,
I would detain you here some moneth or two
Before you venture for me. I could teach you
How to choose right, but then I am forſworn;
So will I never be, so may you miff me;
But if you doe, you'll make me with a fin,
That I had been forſworn: Behrew your eyes,
They have o're-lookt me and divided me,
One half of me is yours, the other halſe
Mine own I would ſay: but first mine, then yours;
And fo all yours; O theſe naughty times
Put bars between the owners and their rights.
And fo though yours, not yours (prove it ſo)
Let fortune go to hell for it, not I.
I ſpeak too long, but 'tis to peize the time,
To ich it, and draw it out in length,
To ſtay you from election.

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So thrice fair Lady Iland I even so,

As doubtful whether what I see be true,
Untill confirm'd, sign'd, ratified by you.

Por. You see my Lord Baffano where I stand,
Such as I am; though for my self alone
I would not be ambitious in my will,
To will my self much better, yet for you,
I would be trebled twenty times my self,
A thousand times more fair, ten thousand times
More rich, that to stand high in your account,
I might in virtues, beauties, livings, friends,
Exceed account : but the full fumme of me
Is fumme of nothing : which to terme in große,
Is an unleffoned Girl, unſchool'd unpractiz'd :
Happy is this, ſhe is not yet so old
But ſhe may learn : happier then in this
She is not bread so dull but ſhe can learn ;
Happieſt of all is, that her gentle ſpirit
Commits it ſelf to yours to be directed,
As from her Lord, her Governour, her King.
My ſelf, and what is mine, to you and yours
Is now converted. But now I was the Lord
Of this fair Manſion, Maſter of my ſervants,
Queen o're my ſelf, and even now : but now
This Houſe, theſe ſervants, and this fame my ſelf
Are yours, my Lord, I give them with this Ring,
Which when you part from, loofe or give away,
Let it prefage the ruine of your love,
And be my vantage to exclaim on you.

Baf. Madam, you have bereſt me of all words,
Oonly my blood ſpeaks to you in my veins,
And there is ſuch confusion in my powers,
As after ſome oration fairly ſpoke
By a beloved Prince, there doth appear
Among the buzzing pleafed multitude,
Where every ſomething being blent together,
Turns to a wild of nothing, ſave of joy
Expreſt, and not expreſt: but when this Ring
Parts from this ſinger, then parts life from hence,
O then be bold to ſay Baffanio's dead,

Ner. My Lord and Lady, it is now our time
That have flood by and ſeen our wifhes proſper,
To cry good joy, good joy my Lord and Lady.

Gra. My Lord Baffanio, and my gentle Lady,
I wifh you all the joy that you can wifh :
For I am ſure you can wifh none from me ;
And when your honours mean to ſolemnize
The bargain of your faith : I do beſeeth you
Even at that time I may be married too.

Baf. With all my heart, so thou canſt get a Wife.

Gra. I thank your Lordſhip, you have got me one.
My eyes my Lord can look as ſwift as yours :
You faw the Miftris, I beheld the Maid :
You lov'd, I lov'd for intermiſſion,
No more pertains to me my Lord than you ;
Your fortune flood upon the caskets there,
And fo did mine too, as the matter falls :
For wooing heat untill I ſweat again,
And ſwearing till my very rough was dry
With oathes of love, at laſt, if promife laſt,
I got a promife of this fair one here
To have her love : provided that your fortune
Atchieſd her Miftreſſe.

Por. Is this true Nerriffa,

Ner. Madam it is so, you Iland pleas'd withall.

Baf. And doe you Gratsiano mean good faith?

Gra. Yes faith my Lord.

Baf. Our feaſt shall be much honoured in your mar-
riage.

Gra. We'll play with them, the firſt boy for a thou-
ſand Ducats.

Ner. What and ſtake down ?

Gra. No, we ſhall ne're win at that ſport, and ſtake
down.

But who comes here ? Lorenzo and his Inſidell ?
What and my old Venetian friend Salerio ?

Enter Lorenzo, Jeſſica, and Salerio

Baf. Lorenzò and Salerio, welcome hither.
If that the youth of my new intereſt here
Have power to bid you welcome : by your leave
I bid my very friends and Countrimen
Sweet Portia welcome.

Por. So doe I my Lord, they are entirely welcome.

Lor. I thank your honour ; for my part my Lord,
My purpose was not to have seen you here,
But meeting with Salerio by the way,
Hee did intreat me paſt all faying nay
To come with him along.

Sal. I did my Lord.
And have reaſon for it, Signior Anthonie
Commends him to you.

Baf. Ere I ope this Letter
I pray you tell me how my good friend doth,
Sal. Not ſick my Lord, unleſſe it be in mind,
Nor well, unleſſe in mind : his Letter there
Will ſhow you his eſtate.

Opens the Letter.

Gra. Nerriffa, cheer yond ſtranger, bid her welcome.
Your hand Salerio, what's the newes from Venice ?
How doth that roall Merchant good Anthonio,
I know he will be glad of our ſuccesſe.

We are the Jafons, we have won the fleece.

Sal. I would you had won the ſleece that he hath loſt.

Por. There are ſome ſhrewd contents in yond ſamre
Paper,

That ſeals the colour from Baffanio's cheek,
Some dear friend dead, else nothing in the world
Could turn ſo much the conſtitution
Of any conſtant man. What worſe and worſe ?
With leave Baffanio I am half your ſelf,
And muſt freely have the halſe of any thing
That this fame paper brings you.

Baf. O ſweet Portia,
Here are a few of the unpleasant ſt words
That ever blotted paper. Gentle Lady,
When I did firſt impart my love to you,
I freely told you all the wealth I had
Ran in my veins: I was a Gentleman,
And then I told you true : and yet dear Lady,
Rating my ſelf at nothing, you ſhall fee
How much I was a Braggart, when I told you
My ſtate was nothing, I should then have told you
That I was worſe then nothing : for indeed
I have ingag'd my ſelf to a dear friend,
Ingag'd my friend to his meer enemy.
To feed my meanes. Here is a Letter Lady,
The paper as the body of my friend,
And every word in it a gaping wound
Influing life blood. But is it true Salerio ?

Hath

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176

Hath all his ventures fail'd! what not one hit !
From Tripolis, from Mexico, and England,
From, Lisbon, Barbary, and India,
And not one Vessell ape the dreadfull touch
Of Merchant-marring Rocks?

Sal. Not one my Lord,

Besides, it should appear, that if he had
The present money to discharge the Jew,
He would not take it: never did I know
A creature that did bear the shape of man
So keen and greedy to confound a man.
He plies the Duke at morning and at night,
And doth impeach the freedome of the state
If they deny him justice. Twenty Merchants,
The Duke himself, and the Magnificoes
Of greatest port have all perfwaded with him,
But none can drive him from the envious plea
Of forfeiture of justice, and his bond.

Jef. When I was with him, I have heard him swear
To Tuball and to Chus, his Countrimen,
That he would rather have Anthonio's flesh,
Then twenty times the value of the fumme
That he did owe him: and I know my Lord,
If law, authority, and power deny not,
I will go hard with poor Anthonie.

Por. Is it your dear friend that is thus in trouble ?

Baf. The dearest friend to me, the kindest man,
The best condition'd, and unwearied spirit
In doing courtesies: and one in whom
The ancient Romane honour more appearses
Then any that drawes breath in Italy.

Por. What fumme owes he the Jew?

Baf. For me three thoufand Ducats.

Por. What, no more?

Pay him fix thoufand, and deface the bond :
Double fix thoufand, and then treble that,
Before a friend of this description

Shall lose a hair through my Baffanio's fault.
First go with me to Church, and call me wife,
And then away to Venice to your friend :
For never shall you lie by Portia's side
With an unquiet foul. You shall have gold
To pay the petty debt twenty times over.
When it is paid, bring your true friend along,
My maid Nerriffa, and my self mean time
Will live as Maids and Widows; come away,
For you shall hence upon your wedding day :
Bid your friends welcome, show a merry cheer,
Since you are dear bought, I will love you dear.
But let me hear the Letter of your friend.

Sweet Baffanio, my ships have all miscarried, my Cre-
ditors grow cruel, my estate is very low, my bond to the
Jew is forfeit, &c. since in paying it, it is impossible I should
live, all debts are cleared between you and I, if I might
see you at my death: notwithstanding use your pleasure, if
your love does not perfwade you to come, let not my Letter.

Por. O love! dispatch all bufineffe and be gone.

Baf. Since I have your good leave to go away,
I will make hafe; but till I come again,

No bed shall e're be guilty of my fyte,
Nor reft be interpofer'twixt us twain.

Enter the Jew, and Solanio, and Anthonio,
and the Jaylor.

Jew. Jaylor, look to him, tell not me of mercy,

This is the fool that lends out money gratis.
Jaylor, look to him.

Ant. Hear me yet good Shylocke.

Jew. I'le have my bond, speak not againſt my bond,
I have fworn an oath that I will have my bond :
Thou call'dt me dog before thou hadt a caufe,
But ſince I am a dog, beware my phangs,
The Duke shall grant me justice: I doe wonder
Thou naughty Jaylor, that thou art so fond
To come abroad with him at his requeſt.

Ant. I pray thee hear me speak.

Jew. I'le have my bond, I will not hear theſe speak,
I'le have my bond, and therefore ſpeak no more.

I'le not be made a soft and dull-ey'd fool,
To shake the head, relent, and ſigh, and yield

To Chriſtian interceſtours : follow not,

I'le have no ſpeaking, I will have my bond.

Exit. Jew.

Sol. It is the moſt impenetrable curre

That ever kept with men.

Ant. Let him alone,

I'le follow him no more with bootleſſe prayers :

He feeks my life, his reaſon well I know ;

I oft deliver'd from his forfeitures

Many that have at times made mone to me,

Therefore he hates me.

Sol. I am ſure the Duke will never grant this forſe-
ture to hold.

An. The Duke cannot deny the course of law ;

For the commodity that ſtrangers have
With us in Venice, if it be denied,

Will much impeach the juſtice of the State,

Since that the trade and profit of the City

Confifteſh of all Nations. Therefore go,

Theſe griefs and loſſes have ſo bated me,

That I ſhall hardly ſpare a pound of flesh

To morrow to my bloode Creditor.

Well Jaylor, on, pray God Baffanio come

To see me pay his debt, and then I care not.

Exeunt.

Enter Portia, Nerriffa, Lorenzo, Jefſica, a man of
Portiaes.

Lor. Madam, although I ſpeak it in your preſence,
You have a noble and a true conceit
Of god-like amity, which appears moſt strongly
In bearing thus the abſence of your Lord.
But if you knew to whom you ſhew this honour,
How true a Gentleman you ſend relief,
How dear a lover of my Lord your Husband,
I know you would be prouder of the work
Then customary bounty can enforce you.

Por. I never did repent for doing good,
Nor shall not now: for in companions
That doe converſe and waſte the time together,
Whose ſoules doe bear an equal yoke of love,
There muſt be needs a like proportion
Of lineaments, of manners and of ſpirit,
Which makes me think that this Anthonio
Being the boſome lover of my Lord,
Muſt needs be like my Lord. If it be so,
How little is the coſt I have beſtowed
In purchasing the ſem blance of my ſoul,
From out the state of helliſh cruelty.

This comes too near the prating of my ſelf,
Therefore no more of it: here other things,
Lorenzo, I commit into your hands,

The

The Life of King Henry the Eighth.

566

All. We are,
Cran. Is there no other way of mercy,
But I must needs to th' Tower my Lords?
Gard. What other,
Would you expect? You are strangely troublesome:
Let some o' the Guard be ready there.
Enter the Guard.

Cran. For me?
Must I go like a Traitor thither?
Gard. Receive him,
And tee him fafe i' th' Tower.
Cran. Stay good my Lords,
I have a little yet to say. Look there my Lords,
By virtue of that Ring, I take my ceaufe
Out of the gripe of cruel men, and give it
To a moft Noble Judge, the King my Mafter.
Cham. This is the King's Ring.
Sur. 'Tis no counterfeit.
Suff. This his right Ring, by Heav'n: I told ye all,
When we fluft put this dangerous stone a rowling,
I would fall upon our selves.
Norf. Do you think my Lords
The King will suffer but the little finger
Of this man to be yes'd?
Cham. 'Tis now too certain,
How much more is his Life in value with him?
Would I were fairly out on't.
Crom. My mind gave me,
In feeking ta les and Informations
Against this man, whose honeſt the Devil
And his dift'rent ones only envy at,
Ye blew the fire that burns ye: now have at ye.

Enter K. ing frowning on them, takes his Seat.
Gard. Dream I Soveraign.
How much are we bound to Heaven,
In daily thanks; that gave us this a Prince;
Not only good and wite, but moft Religious:
One that in all obediencie, makes the Church
The chief aine of his Honour, and to ſtrengthen
That holy duty of our dear reſpect,
His Royal ſelf in J udgement comes to hear
The cauſe betwixt him, and this great offender.
King. You were ever good at fadden Commendations
Bishop of Winchfter. But know I come not
To hear ſuch flattery now, and in my prefence,
They are too thin, and bare to hide offences,
To me you cannot reach. You play the Spaniel,
And think with wagging of your tongue to win me:
But what ſoe're you take it me for; I'm ſure
Thou hatt a cruel Nature and a cloudy.
Good man fit down: Now let me fee the proud ſe
He, that dares moſt, but wags his finger at thee.
By all that's holy, he had better starve,
Then but once think his place becomes thee not.
Sur. May it please you, G race,--------
King. No Sir, it does not p leafe me,
I had thought, I had had men of some understanding,
And wifedome of my Council; but I find none:
Was it diſcretion Lords, to let this man,
This good man (few of you deferv'd the title)
This honeſt man, wait like a lowſe foot-boy
At Chamber door? and one, as great as you are?
Why, what a ſtame was this? Did my Committed
Bid ye ſo far forget your ſelves? I gave ye
Power, as he was a Counſellour to try him,

Not as a Groom: there's some of ye, I fee,
More out of Malice then Integrity,
Would try him to the umſoft, had ye mean,
Which ye ſhall never have while I do live,
Cham. This far
My moſt dread Soveraign, may it like your Grace,
To let my tongue excufe all. What was purpós'd
Concerning his Imprifonment, was rather
(If there be faith in men) meant for his tryal,
And fair purgation to the world then malice,
I'm ſure in me,
King. Well, well my Lords reſpect him,
Take him, and uſe him well, he's worthy of it.
I will ſay thus much for him, if a Prince
May be beholding to a Subject; I
Am for his love and ſervic'e, to him,
Make me no more a doe, but all embrace him;
Be friends for ſhame my Lords: My Lord of Canterbury
I have a Suite which you muſt not deny me.
That is, a fair young Maid that yet wants Baptisme,
You muſt be Godfather, and anſwer for her.

Cran. The greatest Monarch now alive may glory
In ſuch an honour: how may I deferve it,
That am a poor and humble Subject to you?

King. Come, come my Lord, you'd ſpare your spoons:
You shall have two Noble Partners with you: the old
Duchefs of Norfolk, and Lady Marques of Dorſet?
Will theſe please you?

Once more my Lord of Winchſter, I charge you
Embrace, and love this man,

Gard. With a true heart,
And Brothers love I do it.

Cran. And let Heaven
Writneſs how dear, I hold this Confirmation. (heart,
King. Good Man, that ſjoyfull teares ſhew thy true
The common voice I fee is verified.
Of thee, which ſayes thus: Do my Lord of Canterbury
A ſhrewd turn, and he's your friend for ever:
Come Lords, we trifle time away: I long
To have this young one made a Chriſtian.
As I have made ye one Lords, one remain:
So I grow ſtronger, you more Honour gain.

Exeunt.

## Scena Tertia.

Noife and Turnſt within: Enter Porter and his man.

Port. You'll leave your noife anon ye Rafeals; do you
cake the Court for Parſh Garden : ye rude Slaves, leave
your gaping.

Within. Good Mr. Porter I belong to th' Larder.

Por. Belong to th' Gallows, and be hang'd ye Rogue,
Is this a place to roar in ? Fetch me a dozen Crab-tree
itaves, and strong ones; theſe are but twiſches to 'em:
'le ſeratch your heads; you muſt be feeing Chriſtenings:
Do you look for Ale, and Cakes here, you rude Raf-
calls?

Man. Pray Sir be patient; 'tis as much impoffible,
Unleſs we weſte them from the door with Cannons,
To ſcatter 'em, as 'tis to make 'em ſleep
On May-day Morning, which will never be :
We may as well pufh againſt Poul's as ſtir 'em.
Por. How got they in, and be hang'd?

Man.

567

*Man.* Alas I know not, how gets the Tide in ?
As much as one found Cudgel of four foot,
(You see the poor remainder) could distribute,
I made no spare Sir

*Port.* You did nothing Sir.

*Man.* I am not Sampson, nor Sir Guy, nor Colebrand,
To mow 'em down before me : but if I spar'd any
That had a head to hit, either young or old,
He or she, Cuckold or Cuckold-maker ;
Let me ne're hope to see a Chine again,
And that I would not for a Cow, God fave her,

*With.* Do you hear, Mr. Porter?

*Port.* I shall be with you presently; good Mr. Puppy.

Keep the door clofe Sirha.

*Man.* What would you have me do?

*Por.* What should you do,

But knock 'em down by th' dozens ? Is this Moor-fields
to muffle in ? Or have we some strange Indian with the
great Toole, come to Court, the women so befiege us ?
Blefs me ! what a fry of Fonication is at the door? On my
Christian Conscience this one Chriftening will beget a
thoufand, here will be Father, God-father, and all to-
gether.

*Man.* The Spoons will be the bigger Sir: there is a
fellow somewhat near the door, he should be a Brafter
by his face, for o' my conscience twenty of the Dog-
dayes now reign in my Nofe; all that stand about him are
under the Line, they need no other penance: that Fire-
Drake did I hit three times on the head, and three times
was his Nofe difcharged againſt me; he ſtands there
like a Morter-piece to blow us up. There was a Habber-
daſher's Wife of ſmall Wit, near him, that rail'd upon
me, till her pinck'd vorrenger fell off her head, for kin-
ding ſuch a combustion in the State. I miſt the Meteor
once, and hit that Woman, who cryed out Clubbs, when I
might fee from far, ſome fourty Truncheons draw to
her ſuccour, which were the hope o' th' Strond where ſhe
was quartered; they fell on, I made good my place; at
length they came to th' broom-staſt to me, I deft'd 'em
full, when ſuddenly a File of Boyes behind 'em, loofe
hot, deliver'd ſuch a ſhow of Pibbles, that I was 'ain to
draw mine Honour in, and let 'em winne the Work, the
Devil was amongst 'em I think ſpurely.

*Por.* Theſe are the youths that thunder at a Play-houſe,
and fight for bitten Apples, that no Audience but the
tribulation of Tower-Hill, or the Limbs of Lime-Houſe,
their dear Brothers are able to endure. I have ſome of
'em in Limbo Patrum, and there they are like to dance
theſe three dayes; beſides the running Banquet of two
Beadles, that is to come.

*Enter Lord Chamberlain.*

*L. Cham.* Mercy o' me: what a Multitude are here ?
They grow ſtill too; from all Parts they are coming,
As if we kept a Fair here ? Where are theſe Porters ?
Theſe lazy knaves ? Y' have made a fine hand ſellors ?
There's a trim rabble let in: are all theſe
Your faithfull friends o' th' Suburbs ? We ſhall have
Great flore of room no doubt, left for the Ladies,
When they paſs back from the Chriftening ?

*Por.* And't please your Honour,
We are but men, and what ſo many may doe,
Not being torn a pieces, we have done :
An Army cannot rule 'em.

*Cham.* As I live,
If the King blame me for't; I'l' lay ye all

*By th' he ls, and suddenly: and on your heads*
*Clap round Fines for neglect: y'are lazy knaves,*
*And here ye lye baiting of Bombards, when*
*Ye should do Service, Harke the Trumpets found,*
*Th'are come already from the Chriftening,*
*Go break among the preafs, and find a way out*
*To let the troop paſs fairly ; or I'le find*

*A Marſhalfey, shall hold ye play theſe two Moneths.*

*Por.* Make way there, for the Princes.

*Man.* You great fellow,

Stand cloſe up, or I'le make your head ake,

*Por.* You i'th' Chambleſt, get up o'th' railc,

I'le peck you o're the pales elſe.

Exeunt.

## Scena Quarta.

*Enter Trumpets founding.* Then two Aldermen, L. Mayor,
Garter, Cranmer, Duke of Norfolk with his Marſhall's
Staff, Duke of Suffolk, two Noble men, bearing great
ſtanding Bowls for the Chriftening Gifts: Then four
Noble men bearing a Canopy, under which the Du-
cheſs of Norfolk, God-mother, bearing the Child rich-
ly habited in a Mantle, &c. Trainborne by a Lady:
The follows the Marchioneß of Dorſet, the other God-
mother, and Ladies. The Troop paſs once about the
Stage, and Garter ſpeaks.

*Gart. Heaven.*

From thy endleſs Goodneſs, ſend prosperous life,
Long, and ever happy, to the high and Mighty
Princes of England, Elizabeth.

*Flourish. Enter King and Guard.*

*Cran.* And to your Royal Grace, and the good Queen,
My Noble Partners, and my ſelf thus pray
All comfort, joy in this moſt gracious Lady,
Heaven ever laid up to make Parents happy,
May hourly fall upon ye.

*King.* Thank you good Lord Arch-biſhop :

What is her Name?

*Cran.* Elizabeth.

*King.* Stand up, Lord,

With this Kifs, take my Bleſſing. God proteet thee,
Into whose hand, I give thy Life.

*Cran.* Amen.

*King.* My Noble Goffips, y'have been too Prodigal,
I thank ye heartily: So ſhall this Lady,

When ſhe has ſo much English.

*Cran.* Let me ſpeak Sir,

For Heaven now bids me; and the words I utter,
Let none think Flattery ; for they'll find 'em Truth,
This Royal Infant, Heaven ſtill move about her,
Though in her Cradle ; yet now promiſes
Upon this Land a thouſand thouſand Bleſſings,
Which time ſhall bring to ripenefs: She ſhall be,
(But few now living can behold that goodneſs)
A Pattern to all Princes living with her,

And all that ſhall ſucceed: Sabas was never
More covetous of Wifdome, and fair Virtue

Then this pure Soul ſhall be. All Princely Graces
That mould up a mighty Picce as this is,

With all the Virtues that attend the Good,

Shall ſtill be doubled on her. Truth ſhall Nurſe her,

Holy

568

Holy and heavenly thoughts till Counfel her :
She shall be lov'd and fear'd. Her own shall blefs her ;
Her Foes shake like a Field of beaten Corn,
And hang their heads with sorrow :
Good growes with her.

In her dayes, Every Man shall eat in safety,
Under his own Vine what he plants; and fling
The merry Songs of Peace to all his Neighbours.
God shall be truly known, and thofe about her,
From her shall read the perfect way of honour,
And by thofe claim their Greatneſs; not by Bloud.
Nor ſhall this peace ſleep with her : But as when
The Bird of Wonder dy es, the Maiden Phœnix,
Her aſhes new create another heir,
As great in admiration as her ſelf.

So ſhall the ſhe leave her Bleſſedneſs to One,
(When Heaven ſhall call her from this cloud of darkneſs)
Who, from the ſacred Aſhes of her honour
Shall Star-like rife, as great in fame as ſhe was,
And ſo ſtand fix'd. Peace, Plenty, Love, Truth, Terror,
That were the Servants to this choſen Infant,
Shall then be his, and like a Vine grow to him ;
Where ever the bright Sun of heaven ſhall ſhine,
His honour, and the greatneſs of his name,
Shall be, and make new Nations, He ſhall flouriſh,

And like a Mountain Cedar, reach his branches,
To all the Plains about him : Our Children's Children
Shall fee this, and bleſs Heaven,

King. Thou ſpeakeſt wonders.

Cran. She ſhall be, to the happineſs of England,
An aged Princeſs; many dayes ſhall fee her,
And yet no day without a deed to Crown it.
Would I had known no more: But ſhe muſt dye,
She muſt, the Saints muſt have her; yet a Virgin,
A moſt unspotted Lilly ſhall ſhe pats
To th'ground, and all the world ſhall moun her.

King. O Lord Archbiſhep,

Thou haſt made me now a man: never, before
This happy Child, did I get any thing.
This Oracle of comfort, has ſo pleas'd me,
That when I am in heaven, I ſhall define
To fee what this child does, and præife my Maker,
I thank ye all. To you my good Lord Mayor,
And you good Brethren, I am much beholding :
I have receiv'd much honour by your prefence,
And ye ſhall find me thankfull. Lead the way Lords,
Ye muſt all fee the Queen, and ſhe muſt thank ye.
She will be ſick elfe. This day, no man think
'Has bufineſs at his houſe; for all ſhall ſlay :
This little-One ſhall make it Holy-day.

Exeunt.

## The Epilogue.

T is ten to one, this Play can never pleafe
All that are here: Some come to take their eafe,
And ſleep out an Aſt or two; but thofe we feare
W'have affrighted with our Trumpets: so 'tis clear,
They'll ſay it's naught. Others to hear the City
Abus'd extremely, and to cry that's witty,
Which we have not done neither; that I fear

All the expeſed good we are like to hear,
For this Play at this time, is only in
The merciſull conſtruction of good Women:
For ſuch a one we (how'd'em: If they ſmilt,
And ſay 'twill doe; I know within a while,
All the best men are ours; for 'tis ill hap,
If they hold, when their Ladies bid'em clap.

F I N I S.

THE
PROLOGUE.

IN Troy there lies the Scene: from Iles of Greece
The Princes Orgillous, their high blood chaf'd,
Have to the Port of Athens sent their ships
Fraught with the ministers and instruments
Of cruel Warr: Sixty and nine that wore
Their Crownets Regal, from th' Athenian Bay
Put forth toward Phrygia, and their vow is made
To ranfack Troy, within whose strong Immures
The ravish'd Helen, Menelaus Queen,
With wanton Paris sleeps, and that's the Quarrel.
To Tenedos they come,
And the deep-drawing Barks do there disgorge
Their Warlike frautage: now on Dardan Plains
The fresh and yet unbruised Greeks do pitch
Their brave Pavillions. Priams fix-gated City,
Dardan, and Timbria, Helias, Chetas, Troien,
And Antenonidus with massy Staples
And correspouse and fulfilling Bolts
Stirr up the Sons of Troy.
Now Expeſtation tickling skittish Spirits,
On one and other side, Trojan and Greek,
Sets all on hazard. And hither am I come,
A Prologue arm'd, but not in confidence
Of Authors pen, or Actors voice; but Suited
In like conditions, as our Argument;
To tell you (fair Beholders) that our Play
Leaps ore the vaunt and firſtlings of thofe broils,
Beginning in the middle: ſtarting thence away,
To what may be digested in a Play:
Like, or find fault, do as your pleafures are,
Now good, or bad, 'tis but the chance of Warr.

B b b

561

THE TRAGEDY OF

Troilus and Crefrida,

Adus Primus. Scena Prima.

Enter Pandarus and Troilus.

Troilus.

All here my Varlet, Ile unarm again.
Why should I warr without the walls of Troy
That find such cruel battel here within ?
Each Troian that is mafter of his heart,
Let him to field, Troilus alas hath none.

Pan. Will this geer ne'r be mended ? (strength,
Troi. The Greeks are strong, and skilful to their
Feirce to their skill, and to their feirceneſs Valiant :
But I am weaker than a womans tear :
Tamer than sleep, fonder than ignorance ;
Leſs valiant than the Virgin in the night,
And skilleſs as unpractis'd infancy.

Pan. Well, I have told you enough of this: For my part, I lie not meddle nor make no farther. He that will have a Cake out of the Wheat, muſt needs tarry the grinding.

Troi. Have I not tarried ?

Pan. I the grinding; but you muſt tarry the boulting.

Troi. Have I not tarried ?

Pan. I the boulting; but you muſt tarry the leav'ning.

Troi. Still have I tarried.

Pan. I, to the leavening: but heres yet in the word hereafter, the Kneading, the making of the Cake, the heating of the Oven, and the Baking; nay, you muſt flay the cooling too, or you may chance to burn your lips.

Troi. Patience her ſelf, what Goddeſs ere ſhe be,
Doth leſſer blench at ſufferance, than I do :

At Priams Royal Table I ſit;
And when fair Creſſid comes into my thoughts,
So (Traitor) then ſhe comes, when ſhe is thence—

Pan. Well:
She look'd yeſternight fairer, than ever I ſaw her look,
Or any woman elfe.

Troi. I was about to tell thee, when my heart,
As wedged with a ſigh, would rive in twain,
Left Hector, or my father should perceive me:
I have (as when the Sun doth light a-ſcorn)
Buried this ſigh, in wrinkle of a ſmile:

But forrow, that is couch'd in ſeeming gladneſs,
Is like that mirth, Fate turns to sudden ſadneſs.

Pan. And her hair were not ſomewhat darker than
Helens, well go to, there were no more comparifon be-
tween the Women. But for my part ſhe is my Kinſwo-
man, I would not (as they tearm it) pRAiſe it, but I would

fome-body had heard her talk yeſterday as I did: I will
not diſpraife your ſifter Caffandra's wit, but—

Troi. O Pandarus ! I tell thee Pandarus;
When I do tell thee, there my hopes lye drown'd:
Reply not in how many Fadomes deep
They lye indrench'd. I tell thee, I am mad
in Creſſids love. Thou anſwer't ſhe is Fair,
Powr't in the open Ulcer of my heart,
Her Eyes, her Hair, her Cheek, her Gate, her Voice,
Handleſt in thy diſcoursſe. O that her Hand
(In whole comparifon, all whites are Ink
Writing their own reproach) to whole ſoft ſeizure,
The Cignets Down is harſh, and ſpirit of Senſe
Hard as the Palm of Ploughman. This thou tell't me ;
As true thou tell't me, when I ſay I love her :
But ſaying thus, inſtead of Oyl and Balm,
Thou lai't in every gath that love hath given me,
The Knife that made it.

Pan. I ſpeak no more than truth.

Troi. Thou do't not ſpeak so much.

Pan. Faith, Ile not meddle in't. Let her be as ſhe is,
if ſhe be fair, 'tis the better for her: and ſhe be not, ſhe
ha's the mends in her own hands.

Troi. Good Pandarus; How now Pandarus?

Pan. I have had my labour for my travel, ill thought on of her, and ill thought on of you: Gone between and between, but ſmall thanks for my labour.

Troi. What art thou angry Pandarus? what with me?

Pan. Because ſhe is Kin to me, therefore ſhe's not
fo fair as Helen, and ſhe were not Kin to me, ſhe would
be as fair on Friday, as Helen is on Sunday. But what
care I? I care not and ſhe were a Black-a-Moor, 'tis all
one to me.

Troi. Say I ſhe is not fair?

Pan. I do not care whether you do or no. She's a
Fool to ſtay behind her Father: Let her to the Greeks,
and ſo Ile tell her the next time I ſee her: for my part,
Ile meddle nor make no more i'th' matter.

Troi. Pandarus?

Pan. Not I.

Troi. Sweet Pandarus.

Pan. Pray you (ſpeak no more to me, I will leave all
as I found it, and there's an end Exit Pande.

Sound Alarums

Troi. Peace you ungracious Clamors, peace rude founds,
Fools on both fides, Helen muſt needs be fair,
When with your blood, you daily paint her thus.

I

The Tragedy of Troilus and Creſsida.

563

him above, his complexion is higher than his, he having
colour enough, and the other higher, is too flaming a
praife for a good complexion. I had as lieve *Helens* gol-
den tongue had commended *Troilus* for a copper note.

*Pan.* I swear to you,

*I think* *Helen* loves him better than *Paris*.

*Cre.* Then she's a merry Greek indeed.

*Pan.* Nay, I am fure, ſhe does, the came to him th'other
day into the compaſt window, and you know he has not
paſt three or four hairs on his chin.

*Cre.* Indeed a Tapſers Arithmetique may ſoon bring
his particulars therein, to a total.

*Pand.* Why he is very young, and yet will he within
three pound lift as much as his brother *Heſtor*.

*Cre.* Is he ſo young a man, and ſo old a lifter ?

*Pan.* But to prove to you that *Helen* loves him, ſhe
came and puts me her white hand to his cloven chin.

*Cre.* *Juno* have mercy, how came it cloven ?

*Pan.* Why, you know 'tis dimpled,

I think his ſmiling becomes him better than any man in
all Phrigia.

*Cre.* Oh he ſmiles valiantly.

*Pan.* Does he not ?

*Cre.* Oh yes, and 'twere a clow'd in *Autumn*.

*Pan.* Why go to then, but to prove to you that *Hellen*

loves *Troilus*.

*Cre.* *Troilus* will ſtand to the

Proof, if you'l prove it ſo.

*Pan.* *Troilus*? why he eſteems her no more than I e-
ſteem an addle egg.

*Cre.* If you love an addle egg as well as you love an
idle head, you would eat chickens i'th'hell.

*Pan.* I cannot chuse but laugh to think how ſhe tick-
led his chin, indeed ſhe has a marvel's white hand I muſt
needs confels.

*Cre.* Without the rack.

*Pan.* And ſhe takes upon her to ſpye a white hair on
his chin.

*Cre.* Alas poor chin ? many a wart is richer.

*Pan.* But there was ſuch laughing, *Queen Hecuba*
laught that her eyes run ore.

*Cre.* With Milſtones.

*Pan.* And *Caffandra* laught.

*Cre.* But there was more temperate fire under the pot
of her eyes: did her eyes run ore too ?

*Pan.* And *Heſtor* laught.

*Cre.* At what was all this laughing ?

*Pan.* Marry at the white hair that, *Hellen* ſpied on
*Troilus* chin.

*Cre.* And 'thad been a green hair, I ſhould have
laught too.

*Pand.* They laught not ſo much at the hair, as at his
pretty anſwer.

*Cre.* What was his anſwer ?

*Pan.* Quoth ſhe, here's but two and fifty hairs on
your chin; and one of them is white.

*Cre.* This is her queſtion.

*Pand.* That's true, make no queſtion of that: two and
fifty hairs quoth he, and one white, that white hair is
my Father, and all the reſt are his Sons. *Jupiter* quoth
ſhe, which of theſe hairs is *Paris* my husband ? The
forked one quoth he, pluck't out and give it him: but there
was ſuch laughing, and *Helen* ſo bluſht, and *Paris* ſo
chaſt, and all the reſt ſo laught, that it paſt.

*Cre.* So let it now,

For it has been a great while going by.

*Pan.* Well Cozen,

*I told you a thing yesterdaу, think on't.*

*Cre.* So I do.

*Pand.* He be ſworn 'tis true, he will weep you an
'twere a man born in April.

*Sound a retreat.*
*Cre.* And He ſpring up in his tears, an'twere a nettle
againſt May.

*Pan.* Hark they are comming from the field, ſhall we
ſtand up here and fee them, as they paſs toward Ilium ?
good Neece do, ſweet Neece *Cressida*.

*Cre.* At your pleaſure.

*Pan.* Here, here, here's an excellent place, here we
may fee moſt bravely, He ſell you them all by their names,
as they paſs by, but mark *Troilus* above the reſt.

*Enter Aeneas.*

*Cre.* Speak not ſo loud.

*Pan.* That's *Aeneas*, is not that a brave man? he's one
of the flowers of Troy I can tell you, but mark *Troilus*,
you ſhall fee anon.

*Cre.* Who's that ?

*Enter Antenor.*

*Pan.* That's *Antenor*, he has a ſhrew'd wit. I can tell
you, and he's a man good enough, he's one o'th' foun-
deſt judgment in Troy whoſever, and a proper man for
perfon: when comes *Troilus* ? He ſhew you *Troilus* anon,
if he fee me, you ſhall fee him nod at me.

*Cre.* Will he give you the nod ?

*Pan.* You ſhall fee.

*Cre.* If he do, the rich ſhall have more.

*Enter Heſtor.*

*Pan.* That's *Heſtor*, that, that, look you, that there's a
fellow. Go thy way *Heſtor*, there's a brave man Neece,
O brave *Heſtor* ! Look how he looks ? there's a counte-
nance; is't not a brave man ?

*Cre.* O brave man !

*Pan.* Is a not ? It does a mans heart good, look you
what hacks are on his Helmet, look you yonder, do
you fee? Look you there? There's no jeſting, laying on,
tak't off who will, as they ſay, there be hacks.

*Cre.* Be thate with words ?

*Enter Paris.*

*Pan.* Swords, any thing he cares not, and the Devil
come to him, it's all one, by God's lid it does ones heart
good. Yonder comes *Paris*, yonder comes *Paris*: look
ye yonder Neece, is't not a gallant man too, is't not? Why
this is brave now: who faſd he came hurt home to day?
He's not hurt, why this will do *Helens* heart good
now, ha? Would I could fee *Troilus* now, you ſhall fee
*Troilus* anon.

*Cre.* Whoſe that ?

*Enter Helenus.*

*Pan.* That's *Hellenus*, I marvel where *Troilus* is, that's
*Helenus*, I think he went not forth to day: that's *He-
lenus*.

*Cre.* Can *Helenus* fight anſer ?

*Pan.* *Helenus* no: yes he'll fight indiſferent well, I
marvel where *Troilus* is; hark, do you not hear the
people cry *Troilus* ? *Helenus* is a Prieſt.

*Cre.* What ſneaking ſellow comes yonder ?

*Enter Troilus.*

*Pan.* Where? Yonder? That's *Deiphobus*. 'Tis *Tro-
ilus*! There's a man Neece, hem; *Brave Troilus* the Prince
of Chivalry.

*Cre.* Peace, for ſhame peace.

*Pand.* Mark him, note him: O brave *Troilus*: look
well upon him Neece, look you how his Sword is blou-
died, and his Helm more hackt than *Heſtors*, and how he
looks

The Tragedy of Troilus and Cressida.

looks, and how he goes, O admirable youth! he ne'r
faw three and twenty. Goe thy way *Troilus*, go thy
way, had I a fifter were a Grace, or a daughter a Goddeſſ,
he should take his choice. O admirable man! *Paris*?
*Paris* is durt to him, and I warrant, *Hellen* to change,
would give money to boot.

*Enter common Souldiers.*

*Cre.* Here come more.

*Pan.* Aſſes, fools, dolts, chaff and bran, chaff and bran; porridge after meat. I could live and dye i'th' eyes of *Troilus*. Ne'r look, ne'r look; the Eagles are gone, Crows and Daws, Crows and Daws: I had rather be such a man as *Troilus*, then *Agamemnon*, and all Greece.

*Cre.* Cref. There is among the Greeks *Achilles*, a better man than *Troilus*.

*Pan.* *Achilles*? a Dray-man, a Porter, a very Camel.

*Cre.* Well, well.

*Pan.* Well, well? Why have you any discretion? have you any eyes? Do you know what a man is? Is not birth, beauty, good shape, diſcountre, manhood, learning, gen-
tlenefs, virtue, youth, liberality, and so forth, the Spice, and falt that feaſons a man?

*Cre.* I, a mine'd man, and then to be bak'd with no Date in the pyc, for then the man's dates out.

*Pan.* You are such another woman, one knows not at what ward you lie.

*Cre.* Upon my back, to defend my belly; upon my wit, to defend my wiles; upon my fecrecie, to defend mine honeſty; my Mask, to defend my beauty, and you to defend all theſe: and at all theſe wards I lie, at a thou-fand watches.

*Pan.* Say one of your watches.

*Cre.* Nay, Ile watch you for that, and that's one of the chiefelt of them too; if I cannot ward what I would not have hit, I can watch you for telling how I took the blow, unleſs it ſwell paſt hiding, and then is paſt watching.

*Enter Boy.*

*Pan.* You are such another.

*Boy.* Sir, my Lord would instantly ſpeak with you.

*Pan.* Where?

*Boy.* At your own ſonſe.

*Pan.* Good Boy tell him, I come, I doubt he be hurt.
Fare ye well good Neece.

*Cre.* Adieu Unkle.

*Pan.* Ile be with you Neece by and by.

*Cre.* To bring Unkle.

*Pan.* I, a token from *Troilus*.

*Cre.* By the fame token, you are a Bawd. *Exit Pand.*
Words, vows, gifts, tears, and loves full ſacrifice,

He offers in others enterprife:

But more in *Troilus* thousand fold I fee,
Than in the glafs of *Pandar's* praeife may be;

Yet hold I off. Women are Angels wooing,

Things won are done, the fouls joy lyes in doing :

That the beloved, knows nought, that knows not this:
Men prize the thing ungain'd, more than it is.

That the was never yet, that ever knew
Love go ſo ſweet, as when deſire did ſue:

Therefore this maxim out of love I teach;

" *Aſtchievement*, is command: *ungain'd*, *beſeech*.

That though my hearts Contents firm love doth bear,

Nothing of that ſhall from mine eyes appear.

*Exit.*

*Sonet.* Enter *Agamemnon*, *Nestor*, *Ulysses*, *Diomedes*, *Menelaus*, with *others*.

*Agam.* Princes:

What grief hath fet the Jaundies on your cheeks ?

The ample propofition that hopes makes

In all deſigns, begun on Earth below

Fails in the promiſt largeneſs: checks and diſaſtakers

Grow in the veins of actions higheſt rear'd.

As knots by the conflux of meeting ſap,

Inſect the found Pine, and diverts his Grain

Torſive and errant from his courſe of growth.

Nor Princes, is it matter new to us,

That we come ſhort of our ſuppofe ſo farre,

That after ſeven years liege, yet *Troy* walls stand,

Sith every action that hath gone before,

Whereof we have Record, tryal did draw

Bias and thwart, nor anſwering the aim,

And that unbodied figure of the thought

That gave't ſurmiſed shape. Why then ( you Princes )

Do you with cheeks aban'd, behold our works,

And think them ſhame, which are ( indeed ) nought eſſe

But the protraſtive trials of great *Fove*,

To find perſtitive conſtancy in men ?

The fineneſs of which Metal is not found.

In Fortunes' love : for then, the Bold and Coward,

The Wife and Fool, the Artiſt and un-reid,

The hard and soft, ſeem all affin'd, and kin.

But in the Wind and Tempeſt of her frown,

Diſtinction with a loud and powerful fan,

Puffing at all, winnows the light away;

And what hath mafs, or matter by it ſelf,

Lies rich in Virtue, and unmingled.

*Nest.* With due obſervance of thy godly ſeat,

Great *Agamemnon*, *Nestor* shall apply

Thy lateſt words.

In the reproof of Chance,

Lies the true proof of men : The Sea being ſmooth,

How many ſhallow bauble Boats dare fail

Upon her patient breaſt, making their way

With that of noble bulk ?

But let the Ruffian *Boreas* once enrag

The gentle *Thetis*, and anon behold

The Iſtrong ribb'd Bark, through liquid mountains cuts

Bounding between the two moſt Elements

Like *Perſeus* Horſe. Where's then the ſawcy Boat,

Whofe weak untimber'd ſides but even now

Co-rival'd Greatneſs ? Either to harbour ſled,

Or made a Toſt for *Neptune*. Even ſo,

Doth valours ſhew, and valours worth divide

In ſtrorms of Fortune.

For, in her ray and brightneſs,

The Herd hath more annoyance by the Brize

Than by the Tyger : But, when the ſplitting wind

Makes flexible the knees of knotted Oaks,

And flies ſled under ſhade, why then

The thing of Courage,

As rowz'd with rage, with rage doth ſympathize,

And with an accent tun'd in ſelf-fame key,

Retires to chiding Fortune.

*Vif*. *Agamemnon*.

Thou great Commander, Nerve, and Bone of Greece,
Heart of our Numbers, ſoul, and only ſpirit,

In whom the tempers, and the minds of all

Should be ſnut up; Hear what *Ulyſſer* ſpeaks,

Befides th'applaſe and approbation

The which ( moſt mighty ) for thy place and may,

Bbb 3

And

My will enkindled by mine eyes and ears,
Two traded Pylors' twixt the dangerous shores
Of Will and Judgement. How may I avoid
( Although my will diftaft what it elected )
The Wife I chose, there can be no evaſion
To blench from this, and to ſtand firm by honour.
We turn not back the Silks upon the Merchant
When we have ſpoil'd them; nor the remainder Viands
We do not throw in unreſpective place,
Becaufe we now are full. It was thought meet
*Paris* should do ſome vengeance on the Greeks ;
Your breath of full ſentent bellied his Sails,
The Seas and Winds ( old Wranglers ) took a Truce,
And did him ſervice; he touch'd the Ports deſir'd,
And for an old Aunt whom the Greeks held Captive,
He brought a Grecian Queen, whoſe youth and ſfreshneſs
Wrinkles *Apolloes*, and makes ſtale the morning.
Why keep we her ? the Grecians keep our Aunt:
Is ſhe worth keeping ? Why ſhe is a Pearl,
Whofe price hath launch'd above a thouſand Ships,
And turn'd Crown'd Kings to Merchants.
If you'l avouch, 'twas wifdom *Paris* went,
( As you muſt needs, for you all cri'd, Go, go ; )
If you'l confefs, he brought home Noble prize,
( As you muſt needs, for you all clapt your hands )
And cri'd inſeſtible ; why do you now
The iſſue of your proper Wifdoms rate,
And do a deed that Fortune never did ?
Begger the eſtimation which you priz'd,
Richer than Sea and Land ? O Theft moſt bafe !
That we have ſtoſn what we do fear to keep.
But Thieves unworthy of a thing ſo ſtoſn,
That in their Country did them that diſgrace,
We fear to warrant in our Native place.

Enter Caffandra with her hair about her ears.

Cref. Cry Troians cry.
Priam. What noyſe ? what ſhreek is this ?
Troi. 'Tis our mad ſifter, I do know her voice.
Caf. Cry Troians.
Hec. It is Caffandra.
Caf. Cry Troians Cry; lend me ten thouſand eyes;
And I will fill them with Prophetick tears.
Hec. Peace ſifter, peace.
Caf. Virgins and Boys; mid-age and wrinkled old,
Soft infancy, that nothing can but cry,
Add to my clamour : let us pay betimes
A moity of that maſs of moan to come.
Cry Troians cry, practice your eyes with tears,
Troy muſt not be, nor goodly Ilion ſtand,
Our fire-brand Brother *Paris* burns us all.
Cry Troians cry, a *Helen* and a woe;
Cry, cry, Troy burns, or else let *Helen* go. Exit.
Hec. Now youthful *Troilus*, do not theſe high ſtrains
Of divination in our Sifter, work
Some touches of remorſe ? Or is your blood
So madly hot, that no diſcourſe of reaſon,
Nor fear of bad ſucces in a bad cauſe,
Can qualifie the fame ?
Troi. Why brother *Hector*,
We may not think the juſtneſs of each act
Such, and no other than event doth form it,
Nor once dejeſt the courage of our minds ;
Becaufe *Caffandra's* mad, her brainſick raptures
Cannot diftaſt the goodneſs of a quarrel,

Which hath our several Honours all engag'd
To make it gracious. For my private part,
I am no more touch'd, than all *Priams* ſons,
And *Jove* forbid there ſhould be done amongst us
Such things as might offend the weakeſt ſpleen,
To fight for, and maintain.

*Par.* Elſe might the world convince of leviſty,
As well my under-takings as your counſels :
But I atteſt the gods, your full ſentent
Gave wings to my propenſion, and cut off
All fears attending on ſo dire a project.
For what (alas) can theſe my ſingle arms ?
What propugnation is in one mans valour
To ſtand the puſh and enmity of thofe
This quarrel would excite ? Yet I proteſt,
Were I alone to paſſ the diſticulties,
And had as ample power, as I have will,
*Paris* should ne'r retraſt what he hath done,
Nor faint in the purſuit.

*Pri. Paris*, you ſpeak
Like one beſotted on your ſweet deliſtions ;
You have the Honcy ſkill, but theſe the Gall,
So to be valiant, is no praiſe at all.

*Par.* Sir, I propoſe not meerly to my ſelf,
The pleaſures ſuch a beauty brings with it :
But I would have the ſoyl of her fair Rape
Wip'd off in honourable keeping her.
What Treaſon were it to the ſanſack'd Queen,
Diſgrace to your great worths, and ſhame to me,
Now to deliver her poſſection up
On terms of bafe compulſion ? Can it be,
That ſo degenerate a ſrain as this,
Should once ſet foot in your generous boſomes ?
There not the meaneſt ſpirit on our party,
Without a heart to dare, or ſword to draw,
When *Helen* is defended : nor none ſo Noble,
Whofe life were ill beſtow'd, or death unfam'd,
Where *Helen* is the ſubjeſt. Then (I lay )
Well may we fight for her, whom we know well,
The worlds large ſpaces cannot parallel.

*Hełł. Paris* and *Troilus*, you have both ſaid well:
And on the cauſe and queſtion now in hand,
Have gloz'd, but ſuperſicially; not much
Unlike young men, whom *Ariftotle* thought
Unſit to hear Moral Philofophy,
The Reaſons you allege, do more conduce
To the hot paſſion of diſtemper'd blood,
Than to make up a free determination
'Twixt right and wrong: For pleaſure and reyenſe ;
Have ears more deaf than Adders, to the voyce
Of any true deciſion. Nature craves
All dues be rendred to their Owners; now
What nearer debt in all humanity,
Than Wife is to the Husband ? If this law
Of nature be corrupted through aſſection,
And that great minds of partial indulgence
To their benummed wills reſift the fame,
There is a Law in each well-ordered Nation,
To curb theſo raging appetites that are
Moſt diſobedient and refractory.
If *Helen* then be wife to Sparta's King
( As it is known ſhe is ) theſe Moral Laws
Of Nature, and of Nation, ſpeak aloud
To have her back return'd. Thus to perſift
In doing wrong, extenuates not wrong,
But makes it much more heavy. *Hectors* opinion

The Tragedy of Troilus and Cre>sida.

57°

Is this in way of truth: yet nere the lefs,
My spightly brethren, I propend to you
In revolution to keep Helen till;
For 'tis a caufe that hath no mean dependance,
Upon our joynct and feveral dignities.

Troi. Why? there you toucht the life of our deign :
Were it not glory that we more affected,
Than the performance of our heaving spleens,
I would not with a drop of Trojan blood,
Spent more in her defence. But worthy Hector,
She is a theam of honour and renown,
A purr to valiant and magnanimous deeds,
Whole present courage may beat down our foes,
And fame in time to come canonize us.
For I prefume brave Hector would not lofe
So rich advantage of a promis'd glory,
As miles upon the fore-head of this action,
For the wide worlds revenue.

Heiſ. I am yours,

You valiant off-spring of great Priamus,
I have a roiving challenge lent amongst
The dull and factious nobles of the Greeks,
Will strike amazement to their drowſe spirits.
I was advertiz'd, their great General flept,
Whileft emulation in the army crept :
This I prefume will wake him.

Exeunt.

Enter Therſites ſo'us.

Now now Therſites? what loſt in the Labyrinth of thy
fury? ſhall the Elephant Ajax carry it thus ? he beats
me, and I rail at him : O worthy ſatisfaction, would it
were otherwſe: that I could beat him, while't he rail'd
at me: ſoor, I learn to conjure and raiſe Devils, but
Ile fee ſome ſlue of my ſpiteful execrations. Then ther's
Achilles, a rare Enginier. If Troy be not taken till theſe
two undermine it, the walls will stand till they fall of
themſelvs. O thou great thunder-darter of Olympus,
ſarget that thou art Jove the King of gods: and Mercury,
Iole all the Serpentine craft of thy Caduceus, if thou take
not that little little leſs than little wit from them that
they have, which ſhort-arm'd ignorance it ſelf knows, is
to abundant ſcarſe, it will not in circumvention deliver a
fly from a Spider, without drawing the maffie Irons and
cutting the web: after this, the vengeance on the whole
Camp, or rather the bone-ach, for that me thinks is the
curſe dependant on thofe that warr for a placket. I have
laid my prayers, and devil, Envy, ſay Amen: What ho ?
my Lord Achilles ?

Enter Patroclus.

Patr. Who's there ? Therſites. Good Therſites come in and rail.

Ther. If I could have remembred a guilt counterſeit,
thou would'ſt not have fliept out of my contemplation,
but it is no matter, thy ſelf upon thy ſelf. The common
curſe of mankind, folly and ignorance be thine in great
revenue; heaven bleſs thee from a Tutor, and Difculpline
come not near thee. Let thy blood be thy direction till
thy death, then if the ſhe that layes thee out fayes thou art a
ſur ſcure, Ile be ſworn and ſworn upon't the never
drowſed any but Lazars, Amen. Wher's Achilles?

Patr. What art thou devout? waſt thou in a prayer ?
Ther. I, the heavens hear me.

Enter Achil's.

Achil. Who's there ?

Patr. Therſite, my Lord.

Achil. Where, where, art thou come? why my cheeſe,
my digeſtion, why haſt thou not ſerv'd thy ſelf into my
T able, ſo many meals ? Come, what's Agamemnon?

Ther. Thy Commander Achilles; then tell me Patro-
clus, what's Achilles ?

Patr. Thy Lord Therſites: then tell me I pray thee,
what's thy ſelf?

Ther. Thy knower Patroclus : then tell me Patroclus
what art thou?

Patr. Thou maſt tell that know'ſt.

Achil. O tell, tell.

Ther. Ile decline the whole queſtion: Agamemnon com-
mands Achilles, Achilles is my Lord, I am Patroclus
knower, and Patroclus is a fool.

Patr. You raſcal.

Ther. Peace fool I have not done.

Achil. He is a privileg'd man, proceed Therſites.

Ther. Agamemnon is a fool, Achilles is a fool, Ther-
ſites is a fool, and as aforefaid, Patroclus is a fool.

Achil. Derive this: come ?

Ther. Agamemnon is a fool to offer to command A-
chilles, Achilles is a fool to be commanded of Agamem-
non, Therſites is a fool to ſerve ſuch a fool: and Patroclus
is a fool poffitive.

Patr. Why am I a fool ?

Enter Agamemnon, Vlyſes, Neſtor, Diomedes,
Ajax, and Chalcas.

Ther. Make that demand to the Creator, it ſuffices me
thou art. Look you, who comes here ?

Achil. Patroclus, Ile ſpeak with no body: come in
with me Therſites. Exit.

Ther. Here is ſuch patchery, ſuch jugling, and ſuch
knavery: all the argument is a Cuckold and a Whore, a
good quarrel to draw emulousious ſactions, and bleed to
death upon: Now the dry Serpego on the ſubject, and
Warr and Lechery confound all.

Agam. Where is Achilles ?

Patr. Within his Tent, but ill diſpos'd my Lord.

Agam. Let it be known to him that we are here:
He ſent our Meſengers, and we lay by
Our appertainments, viſiting of him :
Let him be told of, left perchance he think
We dare not move the queſtion of our place,
Or know not what we are.

Pat. I ſhall so ſay to him.

Vlyſ. We ſaw him at the opening of his Tent,
He is not ſick.

Aja. Yes, Lion ſick, ſick of a proud heart: you may
call it Melancholy if you will favour the man, but by my
head, 'tis pride; but why, why, let him ſhow us the cauſe?
A word my Lord.

Nef. What moves Ajax thus to bay at him ?

Vlyſ. Achilles hath inveigled his ſool from him.

Nef. Who, Therſites?

Vlyſ. He.

Nef. Then will Ajax lack matter, if he have loſt his
Argument.

Vlyſ. No, you fee he is his argument that has his argu-
ment, Achilles.

Nef. All the better, their fraction is more our wiſh
than their fraction; but it was a ſtrong counſell that a
Fool could disunite.

Vlyſ. The amity that wifdom knits not, ſolly may
eaſtly untie.

Enter Patroclus. Here

Here

The Tragedy of Troilus and Creſida.

571

Here comes *Patroclus*.

*Nef.* No *Achilles* with him ?

*Vlyff.* The Elephant hath joynts, but none for courteous;

His legs are legs for necefity, not for flight.

*Patro.* *Achilles* bids me fay, he is much forry,
If any thing more than your ſport and pleafure,
Did move your greatneſs, and this noble State,
To call upon him; he hopes it is no other,
But for your health, and your diſeſtion ſake;
An after Dinners breath.

*Aga.* Hear you *Patroclus* :

*VVe are too well acquainted with theſe anſwers :*
But his evaſion wing'd thus ſwift with ſcorn,
Cannot outſlye our apprehenſions,

Much attribute he hath, and much the reaſon,
VVhy we aſcribe it to him, yet all his virtues,

(*Not virtuouſly of his own part beheld*)

Do in our eyes, begin to lose their gloſs :

And like fair Fruit in an unwholſome diſh,

Are like to not untaſted ; go and tell him,

*VVVe come to ſpeak with him, and you ſhall not ſin,*
*If you do ſay, we think him over proud,*

*And under honet : in ſelf aſumption greater*

(ſelf.
Than in the note of judgement: and worthier than him.

Here tends the ſavage ſtrangers ſe puts on,

Diſguife the holy ſtrength of their command :

And under write in an obſerving kind

His humorous predominance, yea watch

His pettſih lines, his eſs, his flows, as if

The paſſage and whole carriage of this action

Rode on his tyde. Go tell him this, and add,

That if he over-hold his price ſo much,

*VVee'! none of him; but let him, like an Engine*
*Not portable, Iye under this report.*

Bring action hither, this cannot go to warr:

A ſtriring Dwarf, we do allowance give,

Before a ſleeping Gyant : tell him ſo.

*Pat.* I ſhall, and bring his anſwer ſevently.

*Aga.* In ſecond voice we'll not be ſatisfied,

*VVVe come to ſpeak with him,* *Vlyſſes enter you.*

*Exit Vlyſſes.*

*Ajax.* What is he more than another ?

*Aga.* No more than what he thinks he is.

*Ajax.* Is he ſo much ? do you not think, he thinks
himſelf a better man than I am ?

*Aga.* No queſtion.

*Ajax.* Will you ſubſcribe his thought, and ſay he is ?

*Aga.* No, Noble *Ajax*, you are as ſtrong, as valiant, as
wife, no leſs noble, much more gentle, and altogether
more tractable.

*Ajax.* Why ſhould a man be proud ? How doth pride
grow ? I know not what it is.

*Aga.* Your mind is the clearer *Ajax*, and your virtues
the fairer; he that is proud, eats up himſelf, Pride is his
own Glafs, his own Trumpet, his own Chronicle, and
what ever praeſes it ſelf but in the deed, devours the
deed in the prafe.

*Enter Enter Vlyſſes.*

*Ajax.* I do hate a proud man, as I hate the engendring
of Toads :

*Nef.* Yet he loves himſelf : is'nt ſtrange ?

*Vlyſ.* *Achilles* will not to the field to morrow,

*Aga.* What's his excufe ?

*Vlyſ.* He doth rely on none,

But carries on the ſtream of his diſpofe,

Without obſervance or respect of any,

In will peculiar, and inſel admiffion.

*Aga.* Why, he will he not upon our ſair requeſt,
Untent his perſon, and ſhare the ayr with us ?

*Vlyf.* Things ſmall as nothing, for requeſts ſake only

He makes important : poffeſt he is with greatneſs,
And ſpeaks not to himſelf, but with a pride.

That quarrels at ſelf-breath. Imagin'd wrath

Holds in his blood ſuch ſwoln and hot diſcourſe,

That 'twixt his mental and his active parts,

Kingdom'd *Achilles* in commotion rages,

And batters 'gainſt it ſelf ; what ſhould I ſay ?

He is ſo plaguy proud, that the death-tokens of it,
Cry no recovery.

*Aga.* Let *A*ax go to him.

Dear Lord, go you and greet him in his Tent ;
'Tis faſd he holds you well, and will be led

At your requeſt a little from himſelf.

*Vlyſ.* O *Agamemnon*, let it not be ſo.

We'll conſecrate the ſteps that *Ajax* makes,
When they go from *Achilles*; ſhall the proud Lord,

That baſſ his arroſance with his own ſeam,

And never ſuffers matter of the world

Enter his thoughts, ſave ſuch as do revolve

And ruminate himſelf: Shall he be worthiſt,

Of that he hold an Idol, more than he ?

No, this thrice worthy and right valiant Lord,

Muſt not ſo ſaul his Palm, nobly acquir'd,

Nor by my will aſſubjugate his meriſe,

As amply titled as *Achilles* is, by going to *Achilles*,

That were to enlard his ſat already pride,

And add more Coles to Cancer, when he burns

With entertaining great *Hyperion*.

This L. go to him ? *Jupiter* forbid,

And ſay in thunder, *Achilles* go to him.

*Nef.* O this is well, he rubs the vein of him.

*Dio.* And how his ſilence drinks up this applaſe.

*Aja.* If I go to him, with my armed ſift He path him
ore the face.

*Aga.* O no, you ſhall not go.

*Aa.* And a be proud with me, ile pheſe his pride: let
me go to him.

*Vlyſ.* Not for the worth that hangs upon our quarrel.

*Aja.* A paultry inſolent fellow.

*Nef.* How he deſcribes himſelf.

*Aja.* Can he not be ſociable ?

*Vlyſ.* The Raven chides blackneſs.

*Aja.* He let his humors blood.

*Aga.* He will be the Phyſician that ſhould be the pa-
tient.

*Aja.* And all men were a my mind,

*Vlyſ.* Wit would be out of ſashion.

*Aja.* A ſhould not bear it ſo, a ſhould eat Swords
ſirt: ſhall pride carry it ?

*Nef.* And 'twould, you'd carry half.

*Vlyſ.* A would have ten shares.

*Aja.* I will knede him, Ile make him ſupple, he's not
yet through warm.

*Nef.* ſorce him with prieſes, pour in, pour in, his
ambition is dry.

*Vlyſ.* My L. you feed too much on this diſlike.

*Nef.* Our noble General, do not do ſo.

*Dio.* You muſt prepare to fight without *Achilles*.

*Vlyſ.* Why, 'tis this naming of him doth him harm.

Here is a man, but 'tis before his face,
I will be ſilent.

*Nef.* Wherefore ſhould you ſo ?

He

He is not emulous, as *Achilles* is.

Vlfyf. 'Know the whole world, he is as valiant.

Aja. A horzon dog, that shall palter thus with us,
would he were a Trojan.

Neſt. What a vice were it in *Ajax* now —

Vlyf. If he were proud.

Dio. Or covetous of præife.

Vlyf. I, or furly born.

Dio. Or ſtrange, or ſelſed.

Vl. Thank the heavens L.thou art of ſweet compoſure;
Praife him that got thee, ſhe that gave thee ſuck:

Fame be thy Tutor, and thy parts of nature

Thrice fam'd beyond, beyond all erudition;

But he that diſciplin'd thy arms to fight,

Let Mars divide Eternity in twain,

And give him half, and for thy vigor,

Bull-bearing Milo his addition yield

To finnowie *Ajax*: I will not præife thy wifdome,

Which like a bourn, a pale, a ſhore confines

Thy ſpacious and dilated parts; here's Neſtor.

Inſtructed by the Antiquary times :

He muſt, he is, he cannot but be wife.

But pardon Father Neſtor, were your dayes

As green as *Ajax*, and your brain ſo temper'd,

You should not have the eminence of him,

But he as *Ajax*.

Ara. Shall I call you Father ?

Vlyf. I my good Son.

Dio. Be rul'd by him Lord *Ajax*.

Vlyf. There is no tarrying here, the Hart *Achilles*

Keeps thicket: pleaſe it our General,

To call together all this ſtate of warre;

Freh Kings are come to Troy; to morrow

We muſt with all our main of power ſtand ſaſt :

And here's a Lord (come Knights from Eaſt to Weſt,

And cull their flowr ) *Ajax* shall cope the beſt.

Ag. Go we to Counſel, let *Achilles* ſleep;

Light Bores may fail ſwift, though greater bulks draw
deep. Exeunt.
*Mufick ſounds within.*

Enter Pandarus and a Servant.

Pan. Friend, you, pray you a word : Do not you follow the young Lord Paris ?

Ser. I fir, When he goes before me.

Pan. You depend upon him I mean ?

Ser. Sir, I do depend upon the Lord.

Pan. You depend upon a noble Gentleman: I muſt needs præife him.

Ser. The Lord be præiſed.

Pa. You know me, do you not ?

Ser. Faith fir, ſuperſicially.

Pa. Friend know me better, I am the Lord *Pandarus*.

Ser. I hope I ſhall know your Honour better.

Pa. I do define it.

Ser. You are in the ſtate of Grace ?

Pa. Grace, not ſo friend, Honour and Lordſhip are my titles: What Mufick is this ?

Ser. I do but partly know fir: it is Mufick in parts.

Pa. Know you the Muficians ?

Ser. Wholly fir.

Pa. Who play they to ?

Ser. To the hearers fir,

Pa. At whose pleaſure Friend ?

Ser. At mine fir, and theirs that love Mufick.

Pa. Command, I mean friend.

Ser. Who ſhall I command fir ?

Pa. Friend, we understand not one another: I am too courtly, and thou art too cunning. At whose request do these men play ?

Ser. That's to't indeed fir: marry fir, at the request of Paris my L. who's there in perſon; with him the mortal Venus, the heart blood of Beauty, loves invisible foul.

Pa. Who ? my Cofin *Creſſida*.

Ser. No, fir, *Helen*, could you not find out that by her attributes ?

Pa. It ſhould seem ſellow, that thou haſt not been the Lady *Creſſida*. I come to ſpeak with Paris from the Prince *Troilus*: I will make a complementary affault upon him, for my buſineſs ſeethes.

Ser. Sodden buſineſs, there's a ſtewed phraſe indeed.

Enter Paris and Helena.

Pan. Fair be to you my Lord, and to all this fair company: fair defines in all fair meaſure fairly guide them, especially to you fair Queen, fair thoughts be your fair pillow.

Hel. Dear L. you are full of fair words.

Pan. You ſpeak your fair pleaſure ſweet Queen: fair Prince, here is good broken Mufick.

Par. You have broken it Cofin: and by my life you shall make it whole again, you shall piece it out with a peec of your performance. Nel, he is full of harmony.

Pan. Truly Lady no.

Hel. O fir.

Pan. Rude in ſooth, in good ſooth very rude.

Paris. Well faſd my Lord: well, you ſay ſo in fits,

Pan. I have buſineſs to my Lord, dear Queen: my Lord will you vouchſaſe me a word ?

Hel. Nay, this ſhall not hedge us out, wee'l hear you ſing certainly.

Pan. Well ſweet Queen, you are pleafant with me; but, marry thus my Lord, my dear Lord, and moſt eſteemed friend your brother *Troilus* —

Hel. My Lord *Pandarus*, hony ſweet Lord.

Pan. Go to ſweet Queen, go to.

Commends himſelf moſt affectionately to you.

Hel. You ſhall not bob us out of our melody : If you do, our melancholy upon your head.

Pan. Sweet Queen, ſweet Queen, that's a ſweet Queen Iſaith —

Hel. And to make a ſweet Lady ſad, is a ſowre ſoffence.

Pan. Nay, that ſhall not ſerve your turn, that ſhall it not in truth la. Nay, I care not for ſuch words, no, no. And my Lord he defines you, that if the King call for him at Supper, you will make this excufe.

Hel. My Lord *Pandarus*.

Pan. What ſayes my ſweet Queen, my very, very ſweet Queen ?

Par. What exploit's in hand, where ſups he to night ?

Hel. Nay but my Lord.

Pan. What ſays my ſweet Queen ? my Cofin will fall out with you.

Hel. You muſt not know where he ſups.

Par. With my diſpoſer *Creſſida*?

Pan. No, no, no ſuch matter, you are wide, come your diſpoſer is ſick.

Par. Well, Ile make excufe.

I. I good my Lord: why ſhould you ſay *Creſſida*? no, your poor diſpoſer's ſick.

Par. I spy.

Ccc

Pan. You

573

Pan. You spie, what do you spie? come, give me an
Instrument now sweet Queen.

Hel. Why this is kindly done.

Pan. My Neece is horrible in love with a thing you
have sweet Queen.

Hel. She shall have it my Lord, if it be not my Lord
Paris.

Pand. He ? no she'll none of him, they two are twain.

Hel. Falling in after falling out, may make them three.

Pan. Come, come, I hear no more of this, I'll sing
you a fong now.

Hel. I, I, prithee now : by my troth sweet Lord thou
haft a fine fore-head.

Pan. I you may, you may.

Hel. Let thy fong be love: this love will undo us all.

Oh Cupid, Cupid, Cupid.

Pan. Love ? I that it shall yfaith.

Par. I, good now love, love, nothing but love.

Pan. In good troth it begins so.

Love, love, nothing but love, still more :

For O loves Bow,

Shoots both Buck, and Doe :

The Shaft confounds not that it wounds,

But tickles still the fore :

These Lovers cry, oh ho they dye ;

Yet that which seems they wound to kill,

Doth turn oh ho, to ha ha ke :

So dying love lives still,

O ho a while, but ha ha ha ;

O ho gron, out for ha ha ha—hey ho.

Hel. In love yfaith to the very tip of the nofe.

Pan. He eats nothing but doves, love, and that breeds
hot blood, and hot blood begets hot thoughts, and hot
thoughts beget hot deeds, and hot deeds is love.

Pan. Is this the generation of love ? Hot blood, hot
thoughts, and hot deeds, why they are Vipers, is Love a
generation of Vipers ?

Sweet Lord whose a field to day ?

Par. Hector, Deiphobus, Helenus, Anthenor, and all the
gallantry of Troy. I would fain have arm'd to day, but
my Nell would not have it so.

How chance my brother Troilus went not ?

Hel. He hangs the lip at fomething ; you know all
Lord Pandarus ?

Pan. Not I hony sweet Queen : I long to hear how
they sped to day :

You'l remember your brothers excufe ?

Par. To a hair.

Pan. Farewell sweet Queen.

Hel. Commend me to your Neece.

Pan. I will sweet Queen,

Sound a retreat.

Par. They're come from field: let us to Priams Hall

To greet the warriors. Sweet Hellen, I must woo you,

To help unarm our Hector : his stubborn buckles,

With these your white enchanting fingers toucht,

Shall more obey than to the edge of Steel,

Or force of Greekifh finews, you shall do more

Than all the Iland Kings, difarm great Hector.

Hel. 'Twill make us proud to be your fervant Paris :

Yea what he shall receive of us in duty,

Gives us more palm in beauty than we have :

Yea overhines our self.

Sweet above thought I love thee.

Exeunt.

Enter Pandarus and Troilus Man.

Pan. How now, where's thy Maſter, at my Couſin
Crefridas ?

Man. No fir, he ſtays for you to conduct him thither.

Enter Troilus.

Pan. O here he comes : How now, how now ?

Troi. Sirra walk off.

Pan. Have you feen my Couſin ?

Troi. No Pandarus : I ſtall about her door

Like a ſtrange foul upon the Stygian banks

Staying for waſtage. O be thou my Charon,

And give me ſwift transſistance to those fields,

Where I may wallow in the Lilly beds

Propo'd for the deſerver. O gentle Pandarus,

From Cupids shoulder pluck his painted wings,

And ſle with me to Creſſid.

Pan. Walk here i'th' Orchard, Ile bring her ſtraight.

Exit Pandarus.

Troi. I am giddy; expectation whirls me round,

Th' imaginary reſt is ſo ſweet,

That it inchants my ſente : what will it be

When that the watry palats taſt indeed

Loves thrice reputed Neftar ? Death I fear me

Sounding deſtruction, or ſome joy too fine,

Too ſubtle, potent, and too ſharp in ſweetneſs,

For the capacitie of my ruder powers ;

I fear it much, and I do fear befides,

That I shall loſe diſtinction in my joyes,

As doth a barrel, when they charge on heaps

The enemy flying.

Enter Pandarus.

Pan. She's making her ready, he'l come fraight; you
muſt be witty now, ſhe does ſo bluſh & fetches her wind
ſo ſhort, as if ſhe were fraid with a ſprite: I fetch her;
it is the prettieſt villain, ſhe fetches her breath ſo ſhort
as a new ta'en ſparrow.

Exit. Pand.

Troi. Even ſuch a paffion doth embrace my boſome :
My heart beats thicker than a favourous pulſe,

And all my powers do their beſtowing loſe,

Like vaffalage at unawares encountering

The eye of Majefty.

Enter Pandarus and Creſſida.

Pan. Come, come, what need you bluſh ?

Shames a babie ; here ſhe is now, ſwear the oaths now
to her, that you have ſworn to me. What are you gone a-
gain, you muſt be watcht ere you be made tame , muſt
you? come your wayes, come your wayes, and you draw
backward we'l put you i'th' files: why do you not ſpeak
to her? Come draw this Curtain,& lets ſee your picture.
Alaſs the day, how loath you are to offend day light;and
'twere dark you'd cloze ſooner. So, ſo, rub on, and kifs
the miſtrefes ; how now, a kifs in ſee-farm ? build there
Carpenter; the ayr is sweet. Nay, you ſhall fight your
hearts out ere I part you. The Faulcon, as the Tercel,
for all the Ducks i'th' River : go to, go to.

Troi. You have bereſt me of all words Lady.

Pan. Words pay no debts; giver her deeds : but ſhe'll
bereave you o'th' deeds too, , if ſhe call your activity in
queſtion: what billing again ? here's in witneſs where-
of the Parties interchangeably. Come in, come in, Ile
go get a fire.

Exit Pand.

Cref. Will you walk in my Lord ?

Troi. O Creſſida, how often have I wifht me thus?

Cref. Wifht my Lord? the gods grant? O my Lord.

Troi. What ſhould they grant; what makes this pre-
ty abruption:what too curious dreg eſpies my sweet La-
dy in the fountain of our love ?

Cref. More

574

Cref. More dregs than water, if my tears have eyes.
Troi. Fears make devils of Cherubins, they never fee
truly.

Cref. Blind fear, that seeing reafon leads, finds fafer
fiooring, than blind reafon, flumbling without fear: to
fear the worſt, oft cures the worſe.

Troi. Oh let my Lady apprehend no fear,
In all Cupids Pageſent there is prefent'd no monſter.

Cref. Nor nothing monſtrous neither ?

Troi. Nothing but their undertakings, when we vow
to weep ſees, live in fire, eat rocks, tame Tygers, think-
ing it harder for our Mifteſs to devife impofition
enough, than for us to undergo any difficulty impoſed.
This is the monſtroſitie in love (Lady,) that the will is
infinite, and the execution confin'd; that the desire is
boundleſs, and the act a flave to limit.

Cref. They pay all lovers ſwear more performance
than they are able, and yet reſerve an ability that they
never perform: vowing more than the perfection of ten;
and discharging leſs than the tenth part of one. They
that have the voice of Lions, and the act of Hates, are
they not monſters ?

Troi. Are there ſuch ? ſuch are not we: I know us as we
are taſted, allow us as we prove: our head shall go bare
till merit crown it: no perfection in reſolution shall have
a prae in prefent: we will not name defert before his
birth, and being born, his addition shall be humble: few
words to fair faith. Troilus ſhall be ſuch to Creſſid, as
what envy can pay worſt, shall be a mock for his truth;
and what truth can ſpeak trueſt, not truer than Troi-
us.

Enter Pandarus.

Pan. What blushing ſill? have you not done talking
yet ?

Cref. Well Unkle, what ſolly I commit, I dedicate
to you.

Pan. I thank you for that: if my Lord get a Boy of
you, you'l give him me: be true to my Lord, if he ſtinch,
chide me for it.

Troi. You know now your hoſtages: your Unkle
word and my firm faith.

Pan. Nay, Ile give my word for her too: our kindred
though they be long ere they are wooed, they are con-
flant being won: they are Burs I can tell you, they'l
fick where they are thrown.

Cref. Boldneſs comes to me now, and brings me
heart: Prince Troilus, I have lov'd you night and day,
for many weary months.

Troi. Why was my Creſſid then ſo hard to win ?

Cref. Hard to ſeem won, but I was won my Lord
With the firſt glance that ever: pardon me.

If I confess much you will play the tyrant :

I love you now, but not till now ſo much

But I might after it; in faith I lye.

My thoughts were like unbridled children, grown
Too head-ſtrong for their mother: see we fools,
Why have I blab'd? who ſhall be true to us
When we are ſo unſecret to our ſelves ?

But though I lov'd you well, I wooed you not,

And yet good faith I wifht my ſelf a man;

Or that the women had mens privilege

Of speaking firſt. Sweet, bid me hold my tongue,
For in this rapture I ſhall ſurely ſpeak

The thing I ſhall repent: see, see your ſilence

Comming in dumbneſs, from my weakneſs draws

My foul of confel from me. Stop my mouth.

Troi. And ſhall, albeit ſweet Mufick ilues thence.

Pan. Pretty yfaith.

Cref. My Lord, I do beſeech you pardon me,
I was not my purpofe thus to beg a kif:

I am aſham'd; O Heavens, what have I done!

For this time will I take my leave my Lord.

Troi. Your leave sweet Creſſid ?

Pan. Leave ! and you take leave till to morrow mor-
ning—

Cref. Pray you content you.

Troi. What offends you Lady ?

Cref. Sir mine own company.

Troi. You cannot ſun your ſelf.

Cref. Let me go and try :

I have a kind of ſelf refides with you:

But anunkind ſelf, that it ſelf will leave,

To be another's ſool. Where is my wit ?

I would be gone: I ſpeak I know not what.

Troi. Well know they what they ſpeak, that ſpeak
ſo wifely.

Cref. Perchance my Lord, I ſhow more craft than love.
And fell ſo roundly to a large conſeſſon,

To angle for your thoughts? but you are wife,

Or ſale you love not: for to be wife and love,

Exceeds mans might, that dwels with gods above.

Troi. O that I thought it could be in a woman :

And, if it can, I will preſume in you,

To feed for ay her lamp and flames of love,

To keep her conſtaacie in plight and youth,

Our living beauties outward, with a mind

That doth renew ſwifter than blood decays :

Or that perfuſion could but thus convince me,

That my integritie and truth to you,

Might be affronted with the match and waight,

Of ſuch a winnowed puritie in love :

How were I then up-lifted ! but alas,

I am as true, as truths ſimplicitie,

And ſimpler than the infancy of truth.

Cref. In that I lewarr with you.

Troi. O vertuous fight,

When right with right wars, who ſhall be mol right?

True fwains in love, ſhall in the world to come

Approve their truths by Troilus when their rimes,

Full of proteſt, of oath, and big compare,

Want ſimiles: truth tir'd with iteration,

As true as ſteel, as plantage to the Moon,

As Sun to day, as Turtle to her mate,

As Iron to Adamant, as Earth to th' Center :

Yet after all comparisons of truth,

(As truths authentick author to be cited)

As true as Troilus, ſhall up the Verſe,

And ſanſtifie the numbers.

Cref. Prophet may you be :

If I be falſe, or ſwerve a hair from truth,

When time is old and hath forgot it ſelf,

When water-drops have worn the ſtones of Troy,

And blind oblivion ſwallow'd Cities up,

And mighty ſtates characterleſs are grated

To duſtie nothing; yet let memory,

From falſe to falſe, among falſe Maids in love,

Upbraiding my falſehood, when they've aſid falſe,

As Air, as Water, as Wind, as ſandie earth ;

As Fox to Lamb; as Wolf to Heifers Calf ;

Pard to the Hind, or Stepdame to her Son ;

Yea, let them ſay, to ſtick the heart of falſehood,

Ccc 2

As

As falſe as Creſſid.

Pand. Go to, a bargain made: feal it, feal it, Ile be the witneſs, here I hold your hand: here my Cousins, if ever you prove falſe one to another, ſince I have taken ſuch pains to bring you together, Iet all pittiful goers between be call'd to the worlds end after my name: call them all Panders; Iet all conſtant men be Troiluſſes, all falſe women Creſſids, and all brokers between, Panders: Iſy, Amen.

Troi. Amen.

Cref. Amen.

Pan. Amen.

Whereupon I will ſhow you a Chamber, which bed, becaſe it ſhall not ſpeak of your pretty encounters, preſſs it to death: away.

And Cupid grant all toung-tide Maidens here,
Bed, Chamber, and Pander, to provide this geer. Exeunt.

Enter Vlyſſes, Diomedes, Neſtor, Agamemnon,
Menelaus and Calcas.

Cal. Now Princes for the ſervice I have done you,
Th' advantage of the time prompts me aloud,
To call for recompence: appear it to your mind,
That through the fight I bear in things to love,
I have abandon'd Troy, left my poſſeffion,
Incurrent a Traytors name, expos'd my ſelf,
From certain and poſſed conveniences,
To doubtful fortunes, ſequeſtring from me all
That time, acquaintance, custom and condition,
Made tame, and moſt familiar to my nature:
And here to do you ſervice am become,
As new into the world, ſtrange, unacquainted.

I do beſeech you, as in way of taſt,
To give me now a little benefit:
Out of thofe many regiſtred in promife,
Which you ſay, live to come in my behalf.

Agam. What would'ſt thou of us Trojan ? make
'demand?

Cal. You have a Trojan prifoner, call'd Anthenor,
Yesterday took : Troy holds him very dear.
Oft have you ( often have you, thanks therefore )
Deſir'd my Creſſid in right great exchange.
Whom Troy hath ſtill deni'd : but this Anthenor,
I know is ſuch a wreſt in their affairs,
That their negotiations all muſt ſlack,
Wanting his mannaſe: and they will almoſt,
Give us a Prince of blood, a Son of Priam,
In change of him. Let him be ſent great Princes,
And he ſhall buy my Daughters: and her prefence,
Shall quite ſtrike off all ſervice I have done,
In moſt accepted pain.

Aga. Let Diomedes bear him,
And bring us Creſſid hither: Calcas ſhall have
What he requeſts of us: good Diomed
Furniſh you fairly for this enterchange;
Withall bring word, if Heltor will to morrow
Be anſwer'd in his challenge. Ajax is ready.

Dio. This ſhall I undertake, and 'tis a burthen
Which I am proud to bear. Exit.

Enter Achilles and Patroclus in their Tent.

Vlyſſ. Achilles ſtands i'th' entrance of this Tent;
Please it our General to paſſe ſtrangely by him,
As if he were ſorged: and Princes all,
Lay negligent and looſe regard upon him;
I will come laſt, 'tis like he'l queſtion me,

Why ſuch unplaſuſe eyes are bent? why turn'd on him?
If so, I have deſicion medicinable,

To uſe between your ſtrangenefs and his pride,
Which his own will ſhall have deſire to drink;
It may do good, pride hath no other glaſs
To ſhow it ſelf, but pride: for ſupple knees,
Feed arrogance, and are the proud mans fees.

Agam. We'l execute your purpofe, and put on
A form of ſtrangenefs as we paſſ along,
So do each Lord, and either greet him not,
Or eſſe diſdainfully, which ſhall ſhake him more,
Than if not lookt on. I will lead the way.

Achil. What comes the General to ſpeak with me?
You know my mind, Ile fight no more 'gainſt Troy.

Aga. What ſayes Achilles, would he ought with us?

Nef. Would you my Lord ought with the General?

Achil. No.

Nef. Nothing my Lord.

Aga. The better.

Achil. Good day, good day.

Men. How do you ? how do you ?

Achi. What does the Cuckold ſcorn me ?

Ajax. How now Patroclus ?

Achil. Good morrow Ajax ?

Ajax. Ha.

Achil. Good morrow.

Ajax. I, and good next day too, Exeunt.

Achil. What mean theſe fellows ? know they not
Achilles?

Patr. They paſſ ſtrangely: they were us'd to bend,
To fend their ſmiles before them to Achilles :

To come as humbly as they us'd to creep to holy Altars.

Achil. What am I poor of late ?

'Tis certain, great neſts once fall'n out with fortune,
Muſt fall out with men too: what the declin'd is,
He ſhall as ſoon read in the eyes of others,
As feel in his own fall: for men like butter-flies,
Shew not their mealie wings, but to the Summer;
And not a man for being ſimple man,
Hath any honor ; but honor'd by thofe honors
That are without him ; as place, riches, favour,
Prizes of accident, as oft as merit :

Which when they fall ( as being slippery ſtanders )
The love that lean'd on them as slippery too,
Doth one pluck down another, and together
Dye in the fall; But 'tis not so with me,
Fortune and I are friends, I do enjoy

At ample point all that I did poſſe,
Save theſe mens looks: who do me thinks find out
Something not worth in me ſuch rich beholding,
As they have often given. Here is Vlyſſes,
Ile interrupt his reading: how now Vlyſſes?

Vlyſ. Now great Thetis Son.

Achil. What are you reading ?

Vlyſ. A ſtrange fellow here

Writes me, that man, how dearly ever parted,
How much in having, or without, or in,
Cannot make boast to have that which he hath :
Nor feels not what he ows, but by reflection :
As when his virtues ſhining upon others,
Heat them, and they retort that heat again
To the firſt giver.

Achil. This is not ſtrange Vlyſſes :
The beauty that is born here in the face,
The bearer knows not, but commends it ſelf,
Not going from it ſelf: but eye to eye oppos'd,

Salutes

["The Tragedy of Troilus and Cre>sida.", "556", "Salutes each other, with each others form.", "For speculation turns not to itself,", "Till it hath travell'd and is married there", "Where it may fee it self; this is not strange at all.", "Why. I do not train it at the poition,", "It is familiar; but at the Authors drift,", "Who in his circumstance, expreſly proves", "That no man is the Lord of any thing,", "(Though in and of him there is much confifting,)", "Till he communicate his parts to others :", "Nor doth he of himſelf know them for ought,", "Till he behold them formed in th' applause,", "Where they're extended: who like an arch reverb'rates", "The voice again; or like a gate of ſeel,", "Fronting the Sun, receives and renders back", "His figure, and his heat. I was much rapt in this,", "And apprehended here immediately", "The unknown *Ajax* ;", "Heavens what a man is there? a very Horſe, ( are", "That has he knows not what Nature, what things there", "Moft abject in regard, and dear in uſe;", "What things again moſt dear in the ſteem,", "And poor in worth: now ſhall we fee to morrow,", "And act that very chance doth throw upon him ?", "*Ajax* renowned? O heavens, what ſome men do,", "While ſome men leave to do !", "How ſome men creep in skitſtih fortunes hall,", "Whiles others play the Ideots in her eyes :", "How one man eats into anothers pride,", "While pride is feaſting in his wantonneſs", "To fee theſe Grecian Lords; why, even already,", "They clap the lubber *Ajax* on the ſhoulder,", "As if his foot were on brave *Hełtors* breſt,", "And great *Troy* shrinking.", "*Achil.* I do believe it:", "For they paſt by me, as mifers do by beggars,", "Neither gave to me good word, nor good look :", "What, are my deeds forgot ?", "*Vif.* Time hath (my Lord) a wallet at his back,", "Wherein he puts almes for oblivion :", "A great ſiz'd monſter of ingratitudes :", "Thofe ſcraps are good deeds paſt,", "Which are devour'd as faſt as they are made,", "Forgot as ſoon as done : perſeverance, dear my Lord,", "Keeps honour bright: to have done, is to hang", "Quite out of ſaſhion, like a rufy male,", "In monumental mockrie : take the inſtant way,", "For honor travels in a ſtraight ſonarrow,", "Where one but goes abreast, keep then the path,", "For emulation hath a thouſand Sons,", "That one by one purſue ; if you give way", "Or hedge aſide from the direct ſorth right,", "Like to an entred Tyde, they all rulh by,", "And leave you hindmoſt;", "Or like a gallant Horſe faln in firſt rank,", "Lye there for pavement to the abjeſt, near", "Ore-run and trampled on: then what they do in prefent,", "Though leſs than yours in paſt, muſt ore-top yours :", "Fortine is like a ſaſhionable Hoft,", "That flightly ſhakes his parting Gueſt by th' hand ;", "And with his arms out-ſtretche, as he would flye,", "Graps in the commer : the welcome ever ſmiles,", "And farewells goes out ſhing: O let not virtue ſeeke", "Remuneration for the thing it was : for beauty, wit,", "High birth, vigour of bone, defert in ſervice,", "Love, friendſhip, charity, are ſubjects all", "To envious and calumniating time:", "One touch of nature makes the whole world kin;", "That all with one conſent praſe new born gauds,", "Though they are made and moulded of things paſt,", "And go to duſt, that is a little gilt,", "More laud in gilt oreduſted.", "The preſent eye praſes the preſent object.", "Then marvail not thou great and compleat man,", "That all the Greeks begin to worſhip *Ajax* ;", "Since things in motion 'gin to catch the eye,", "Than what not flirs: the cry went out on thee,", "And ſtill it might, and yet it may again,", "If thou would'it not entomb thy ſelf alive,", "And cafe thy reputation in thy Tent ;", "Whofe glorious deeds, but in theſe fields of late,", "Made emulous miſions 'mongſt the gods themselves,", "And drave great *Mars* to ſaction.", "*Achil.* Of this my privacy,", "I have ſtrong reaſons.", "*Vif.* But 'gainſt your privacy,", "The reaſons are more potent and heroical :", "'Tis known *Achilles*, that you are in love", "With one of *Priams* daughters.", "*Achil.* Ha? known ?", "*Vif.* Is that a wonder ?", "The providence that's in a watchful State,", "Knows almoſt every grain of *Pluto's* gold;", "Finds bottom in th' uncomprehenſive deeps,", "Keeps place with thought; and almoſt like the gods,", "Does thoughts unveil in their dumb cradles :", "There is a myſterie ( with whom relation", "Durſt never meddle ) in the foul of ſtate ;", "Which hath an operation more divine,", "Than breath or pen can give expreſſure too :", "All the commerce that you have had with *Troy*,", "As perſectly is ours, as yours, my Lord.", "And better would it fit *Achilles* much,", "To throw down *Hełtor* than *Polixena*,", "But it muſt grieve young *Pyrrhus* now at home,", "When fame ſhall in her land found her trump ;", "And all the Greekiſh Girles ſhall tripping ſing,", "Great *Hełtors* filter did *Achilles* win ;", "But our great *Ajax* bravely beat down him.", "Farewell my Lord : I as your Lover ſpeak ;", "The fool flides ore the Ice that you ſhould break.", "*Patr.* To this effect *Achilles* have I mov'd you ;", "A woman impudent and mannifſt grown,", "Is not more loth'd, than an effeminate man,", "In time of action : I ſtand condemn'd for this ;", "They think my little ſtomack to the warr,", "And your great love to me, refrains you thus :", "Sweet, rouſe your ſelf : and the weak wanton *Cupid*", "Shall from your neck unloofe his amorous fold,", "And like a dew-drop from the Lions mane,", "Be ſhook to airie air.", "*Achil.* Shall *Ajax* fight with *Hełtor*.", {"bbox": [456, 1170, 784, 1195], "category": "Text", "

577

Ile fend the fool to *Ajax*, and desire him
T'invite the Trojan Lords after the Combat
To fee us here unarm'd: I have a womans longing,
An appetite that I am fick withall,
To fee great *Hector* in the weeds of peace; Enter *Ther*.
To talk with him, and to behold his visage,
Even to my full of view. A labour fav'd.

*Ther.* A wonder.

*Achil.* What?

*Ther.* *Ajax* goes up and down the field, asking for
himself.

*Achil.* How so?

*Ther.* He must fight singly to morrow with *Hector*,
and is so prophetically proud of an heroical cudgelling,
that he raves in faying nothing.

*Achil.* How can that be?

*Ther.* Why he talks up and down like a Peacock, a
ftride and a stand: ruminates like an horse, that hath no
Arithmetique but her brain to fet down her reckoning:
bites his lip with a politique regard, as who should
fay, there were wit in his head and 'twoo'd out; and so
there is; but it lyes as coldly in him, as fire in a flint,
which will not shew without knocking. The man's un-
done for ever; for if *Hector* break not his neck in i'th
Combat, hee' break't himself in vain-glory. He
knows not me: I faid, good morrow *Ajax*; And he
replies, thanks *Agamemnon*. What think you of this
man, that takes me for the General? Hee's grown a
very land-fish, languageles; a monster: a plague of
opinion, a man may wear it on both fides like a leather
jerkin.

*Achil.* Thou muft be my Ambassador to him *Ther's*ites.

*Ther.* Who I ? why hee'l anfwer nobody: he pro-
feſſes not anſwering; ſpeaking is for beggers: he wears
his tongue in his arms: I will put on his preſence; let Pa-
troclus make his demands to me, you ſhall fee the Page-
ant of *Ajax*.

*Achil.* To him *Patroclus*, te'l him, I humbly define the
valiant *Ajax*, to invite the moſt valorous *Hector*, to come
unarm'd to my Tent, and to procure ſafe conduct for his
perſon, of the magnanimous and moſt illuſtrious, fix or
feven times honour'd Captain, General of the Grecian
Armie *Agamemnon*, &c. do this.

*Patro.* *Fove* bleſſs great *A. ax*.

*Ther.* Hum.

*Patr.* I come from the worthy *Acaillies*.

*Ther.* Ha?

*Patr.* Who moſt humbly defines you to invite *Hector*
to his Tent.

*Ther.* Hum.

*Patr.* And to procure ſafe conduct from *Agamemnon*.

*Ther.* *Agamemnon*?

*Patr.* I my Lord.

*Ther.* Ha?

*Patr.* What fay you too't.

*Ther.* God buy you with all my heart.

*Patr.* Your anſwer fir.

*Ther.* If to morrow be a fair day, by eleven a clock
it will go one way or other; howfoever, he ſhall pay for
me e'r he has me.

*Patr.* Your anſwer fir.

*Ther.* Fare you well with all my heart.

*Achil.* Why, but he is not in this tune, is he?

*Ther.* No, but he's out a tune thus: what mufick will
be in when *Hector* has knockt out his brains, I know
not: but I am fure none, unleſs the Fidler *Apollo* get his

finews to make carlings on.

*Achil.* Come, thou ſhalt bear a Letter to him
straight.

*Ther.* Let me carry another to his Horſe; for that's the
more capable creature.

*Achil.* My mind is troubled like a Fountain flir'd,
And I my ſelf fee not the bottom of it.

*Ther.* Would the Fountain of your mind were clear
again, that I might water an Aſs at it: I had rather be a
Tick in a Sheep, than ſuch a valiant ignorance,

*Enter at one door *Aeneas* with a Torch, at another
Paris, Deiphobus, Anthenor, Diomed the
Grecian, with Torches.**

*Patr.* See, ho, who is that there?

*Deiph.* It is the Lord *Aeneas*.

*Aene.* Is the Prince there in perſon?

Had I ſo good occafion to be long
As you Prince *Paris*, nothing but heavenly buſineſſs,
Should rob my bed-mate of my company.

*Dion.* That's my mind too: good morrow Lord
*Aeneas*.

*Par.* A valiant Greek *Aenea*, take his hand,
Witneſſs the proceſs of your ſpeech within;
You told how *Diomed*, in a whole week by dayes
Did haunt you in a Field.

*Aene.* Health to you valiant fir;
During all queſtion of the gentle truce:
But when I meet you arm'd, as black defiance,
As heart can think, or courage execute.

*Dion.* The one and other *Diomed* embraces,
Our bloods are now in calm; and ſo long health:
But when contention, and occafion meet,
By *Fove*, he play the hunter for thy life,
With all my force, purſute and policy.

*Aene.* And thou ſhalt hunt a Lion that will ſie
With his face bacward, in humane gentlenefs:
Welcome to *Troy*; now by *Anchises* life,
Welcome indeed: by *Venus* hand I ſwear,
No man alive can love in ſuch a ſort,
The thing he means to kill, more excellently.

*Dion.* We sympathize. *Fove* let *Aeneas* live
( If to my ſword his fate be not the glory )
A thouſand complear courſes of the Sun:
But in mine emulous honor let him die,
With every joyn't a wound, and that to morrow.

*Aene.* We know each other well.

*Dio.* We do, and long to know each other worſe.

*Par.* This is the moſt deſpightfull ſt gentle greeting;
The nobleft hateful love, that e'r I heard of.

What buſineſs Lord ſo early?

*Aene.* I was ſent for the King; but why, I know not.

*Par.* His purpofe meets you; it was to bring this Greek
to *Calcha's* houſe: and there to render him,
For the enfreed *Anthenor*, the fair *Creffid*:
Lets have your company; or if you pleafe,
Haſte there before us, I conſantly do think
(Or rather call my thought a certain knowledge)

My brother *Troilus* lodges there to night.
Rouſe him, and give him note of our approach,
With the whole quality, whereof I fear
We ſhall be much unwelcome.

*Aene.* That I aſſure you :

*Troilus* had rather *Troy* were born to Greece,
Than *Creffid* born from *Troy*.

*Par.* There

Cref. Good Uncle, I beſeech you, on my knees, I be-
ſeech you what's the matter?

Pan. Thou muſt be gone wench, thou muſt be gone;
thou art chang'd for Anthenor: thou muſt to thy Father,
and be gone from Troilus: 'twill be his death: 'twill be
his bane, he cannot bear it.

Cref. O you immortal Gods ! I will not go.

Pan. Thou muſt.

Cref. I will not Uncle : I have forgot my Father:
I know no touch of confanguinity :

No kin, no love, no blood, no foul, fo neer me,

As the sweet *Troilus* : O you gods divine !

Make Crefſids name the very crown of falſhood !

If ever ſhe leave *Troylus* : time, and death,

Do to this body what extremity you can ;

But the ſtrong bafe and building of my love,

Is as the very Centre of the earth,

Drawing all things to it. I will go in and weep.

Pan. Do, do.

Cref. Tear my bright hair , and scratch my praſed
cheeks,
Crack my cleer voice with ſobs, and break my heart

With founding *Troilus*. I will not go from Troy. Ex.

Enter Paris, Troilus, Ænea, Deiphobus, An-
thenor, and Diomedes.

Par. It is great morning, and the hour prefixt
Of her delivery to this valiant Greek

Comes faſt upon : good my brother *Troilus*,

Tell you the Lady what ſhe is to do,

And haſte her to the purpose.

Troi. Walk into her houſe :

Ile bring her to the Grecian preſently ;

And to his hand when I deliver her,

Think it an Altar, and thy brother *Troilus*

A Priſt, there offering to it his heart.

Par. I know what 'tis to love,

And would, as I ſhall pitty, I could help.

Please you walk in, my Lords.

Enter Pandarus and Cressid.

Pan. Be moderate, be moderate.

Cref. Why tell you me of moderation?
The grief is fine, full perfect that I taſte,
And no leſs in a ſene as ſtrong, as that
Which cauſeth it. How can I mod'rate it?

If I could temporize with my affection,
Or brew it to a weak and colder palat,

The like alaiment could I give my grief :

My love admits no qualifying croſs : Enter *Troilus*.
No more my grief, in ſuch a precious loſs.

Pan. Here, here, here he comes, a ſweet duck.

Cref. O *Troilus*, *Troilus*.

Pan. What a pair of ſpectacles is here? let me embrace
too: oh heart, as the goodly ſaying is; O heart, heavy
heart, why ſitteſt thou without breaking ? where he an-
ſwers again; becauſe thou canſt not eafe thy ſmart by
friendſhip, nor by ſpeaking: there was never a truer rime;
let us caſt away nothing, for we may live to have need
of ſuch a Verſe; we fee it, we fee it: how now Lambs?

Troi. Crefſid, I love thee in ſo ſtrange a purity ;

That the bleſt gods, as angry with my ſancy,

More bright in zeal, than the devotion which

Cold lips blow to their Deities, take thee from me.

Cref. Have the Gods envy ?

Pan. I, I, I, I, 'tis too plain a cafe.

Cref. And is it true, that I muſt go from *Troy*?

Troi. A hatefull truth.

Cref. What, and from *Troilus* too?

Troi. From *Troy*, and *Troilus*.

Cref. Iſt poffible?

Troi. And suddenly, where injury of chance
Puts back leave-taking, juſtles roughly by
All time of paſſe : rudely beguiles our lips
Of all rejoyndere : forcibly prevents
Our lockt embraſures ; ſtrangles our dear vows,
Even in the birth of our own labouring breath.
We two that with ſo many thouſand ſighs
Did buy each other, muſt poorly ſell our ſelves,
With the rude brevity and diſcharge of one;
Injurious time, now with a robbers haſte
Crams his rich Theevery up, he knows not how.

As many farewels as be ſtars in heaven,
With diſtinet breath, and config'n'd kiffes to them,
He fumbles up in a loofe adiew :

And ſcants us with a ſingle famiſt kifs,

Diftaſting with the ſalt of broken tears, Enter Æneas.

Æneas within. My Lord, is the Lady ready ?

Troi. Heark, you are call'd : ſome ſay the genius ſo
Cries, come, to him that inſantly muſt die.

Bid them have patience ; ſhe ſhall come anon.

Pan. Where are my tears? rain, to lay this wind, or
my heart will be blown up by the toot.

Cref. I muſt then to the Grecians ?

Troi. No remedy.

Cref. A wofull Crefſid 'mongſt the merry Greeks.

Troi. When ſhall we fee again ?

Hear me your love : be thou but true of heart.

Cref. I true? how now? what wicked deem is this ?

Troi. Nay, we muſt uſe expoſtulation kindly,
For it is parting from us :

I ſpeak not, be thou true, as fearing thee :
For I will throw my Glove to death himself,

That there's no maculation in thy heart ;

But be thou true, ſay I, to ſashion in
My ſequent protestation : be thou true,
And I will fee thee.

Cref. O you ſhall be expoſ'd my Lord to dangers

As infinite, as imminent : but Ile be true.

Troi. And Ile grow friend with danger ;
Wear this Sleeve.

Cref. And you this Glove.

When ſhall I fee you ?

Troi. I will corrupt the Grecian Centinels,
To give thee nightly viſitation.

But yet be true.

Cref. O heavens : be true again ?

Troi. Hear why I ſpeak it, Love :
The Grecian youths are full of quality,
Their loving well compos'd, with gift of nature,
Flowing and ſwellings ore with Arts and exercife :
How novelties may move, and parts with perſon,
Alas, a kind of godlyjealouſe,
Which I beſeech you call a vertuos ſin,
Makes me affright.

Cref. O heavens, you love me not?

Troi. Dye I a villain then :

In this I do not call your faith in question

So mainly as my merit : I cannot ſing,

Nor heel the high Lavolt ; not ſweeten talk ;

Nor play at ſubtle games ; fair virtues all :

To

The Tragedy of Troilus and Creſsidæ.

580

To which the Grecians are moſt prompt and -pregnant:
But I can tell that in each grace of theſe,
There lurks a ſtill and dumb-discourſive devil,
That tempts moſt cunningly: but be not tempted.
Cref. Do not think I will.

Troi. No, but ſomthing may be done that we will not:
And sometimes we are devilſs to our ſelves,
When we will tempt the frailty of our powers,
Prefuming on their changeſul porcencie.

Æneas within. Nay, good my Lord.

Troi. Come kifs, and let us part.

Paris within. Brother Troilus.

Troi. Good brother come you hither,
And bring Æneas and the Grecian with you.

Cref. My Lord will you be true ?

Troi. Who I ? alas it is my vice, my fault :
Whiles other ſin with craft for great opinion,
I, with great truth, catch meer ſimplicity;

With it ſome with cunning gild their copper crowns,
With truth and plainneſs I do wear mine bare.

Enter the Greeks.

Fear not my truth; the moral of my wit
Is plain and true, ther's all the reach of it.

Welcome fir Diomed, here is the Lady
Which for Antenor we deliver you.

At the port ( Lord ) Ile give her to thy hand,
And by the way poſſeſs thee what ſhe is.

Entreat her fair ; and by my ſoul, fair Greek,
If ere thou ſtand at mercy of my ſword,
Name Creſſid, and thy life ſhall be as ſafe
As Priam is in Ilion.

Diomed. Fair Lady Creſſid,

So please you, vafe the thanks this Prince expects :
The luſtref in your eye, heaven in your cheek,
Pleads your fair ſusage, and to Diomed
You ſhall be miſtraſs, and command him wholly.

Troi. Grecian, thou doſt not uſe me courteouſly,
To ſhame the ſeal of my petition towards,
I praſing her. I tell thee Lord of Greece,
She is as far ſhigh ſoaring o're thy praſes,
As thou unworthy to be call'd her ſervant:
I charge thee uſe her well, even for my charge :
For by the dreadful Pluto, if thou doſt not,
(Though the great bulk Achilles be thy guard )
Ile cut thy throat.

Dion. Oh be not mov'd Prince Troilus;
Let me be privileg'd by my place and meſtage,
To be a ſpeaker free ; when I am hence,
Ile anſwer to my luſt : and know my Lord,
Ile nothing do on charge: to her own worth
She ſhall be priz'd : but that you ſay be't ſo ;
Ile ſpeak in my ſpirit and honor, no.

Troi. Come to the Port. Ile tell thee Diomed,
This brave, ſhall oft make thee to hide thy head :
Lady, give me your hand, and as we walk,
To our own ſelves bend we our needful talk.

Sound Trumpet.

Par. Hark, Hełtors Trumpet.

Æne. How have we ſpent this morning ?
The Prince muſt think me tardy and remiſs,
That ſwore to ride before him in the field.

Par. 'Tis Troilus fault: come, come, to field with him.

Exeunt.

Dio. Let us make ready ſtraight.

Æne. Yea, with a bridegrooms freſh alacritie

Let us addrefs to tend on Hełtors heels:
The glory of our Troy doth this day lye
On his fair worth, and ſingle Chivalry.

Enter Ajax armed, Achilles, Patroclus, Agamemnon,
Menelaus, Vlyſſes, Neſtor, Calcas, &c.

Aga. Here art thou in appointment freſh and fair
Anticipating time. With ſtarting courage,
Give with thy Trumpet a loud note to Troy
Thou dreadful Ajax, that the appaule ayr
May pierce the head of the great Combatant,
And hale him hither.

Ajax. Thou, Trumpet, there's my purſe:
Now crack thy lungs and ſplit thy braſen pipe :
Blow villain, till thy ſphered Bias cheek
Out-swell the cholick of puſt Aquilon :
Come, ſtretch thy cheſt, and let thy eyes ſpout blood :
Thou bloweſt for Hełtor.

Vlyſ. No Trumpet anſwers.

Achil. 'Tis but early dayes.

Aga. Is't not young Diomed with Calcas daughter?

Vlyſ. 'Tis he, I ken the manner of his gate,
He riles on the toe : that ſpirit of his
In afpiration lifts him from the earth.

Aga. Is this the Lady Creſſid?

Dio. Even ſhe.

Aga. Moſt dearly welcome to the Greeks, ſweet
Lady.

Neſt. Our General doth ſalute you with a kifs.

Vlyſ. Yet is your kindneſs but particular ; 'twere bet-
ter ſhe were kif ſt in general.

Neſt. And very courtly counſel : Ile begin. So much
for Neſtor.

Achil. Ile take that winter from your lips: fair Lady
Achilles bids you welcome.

Mene. I had good argument for kiſſing once.

Patro. But that's no argument for kiſſing now ;
For thus pop't Paris in his hardiment.

Vlyſ. Oh deadly gall, and theame of all our ſcorns,
For which we loſe our heads, to gild his horns.

Patro. The firſt was Menelaus kifs, this mine :
Patroclus kifſes you.

Men. Oh this is trim.

Patr. Paris and I kifs evermore for him.

Men. Ile have my kifs fir : Lady by your leave.

Cref. In kiſſing do you render, or receive?

Patr. Both take and give.

Cref. Ilemake my match to give,
The kifs you take is better than you give : therefore no
kifs.

Men. Ile give you boot, Ile give you three for one.

Cref. You are an odd man, give even, or give none.

Men. An odd man Lady? every man is odd.

Cref. No, Paris is not; for you know 'tis true,
That you are odd, and he is even with you.

Men. You fillip me a'th' head.

Cref. No, Ile beſworn.

Vlyſ. It were no match, your nail againſt his horn:
May I sweet Lady beg a kifs of you ?

Cref. You may.

Vlyſ. I do define it.

Cref. Why beg then.

Vlyſ. Why then for Venuſake, give me a kifs :

When Hellen is a maid again, and his—

Cref. I am your debtor, claim it when 'tis due.

Vlyſ. Never's

The Tragedy of Troilus and Crefida.

581

Wyn. Never's my day, and then a kifs of you,
Dion. Lady a word, Ile bring you to your Father.
Neft. A woman of quick fence.
Wyn. Fie, fie upon her :
There's language in her eye, her cheek, her lip;
Nay, her foot fpeaks, her wanton fpirits look out
At every joynt, and motive of her body :
Oh thefe encounters fo glib of tongue,
That give a coafing welcome ere it comes;
And wide unclafp the tables of their thoughts,
To every tickling reader : fet them down,
For fluttifh foils of opportunitie;
And daughters of the game.
Exeunt.

Enter all of Troy, Hector, Paris, Æneas, Helenus,
and Attendants.

All. The Troians Trumpet.

Aga. Yonder comes the Troop.

Æne. Hail all you flate of Greece; what shall be done
To him that victorie commands? or do you parpole,
A victor shall be known : will you the Knights
Shall to the edge of all extremitie
Purfue each other; or shall be divided
By any voice, or order of the field: Hector bad ask?

Aga. Which way would Hector have it?

Æne. He cares not, he'l obey conditions.

Aga. 'Tis done like Hector, but fecurely done,
A little proudly, and great deal disprifing
The Knight oppos'd.

Æne. If not Achilles fir, what is your name ?

Achil. If not Achilles, nothing.

Æne. Therefore Achilles: but what ere, know this,
In the extremity of great and little :

Valour and pride excel themfelves in Hector ;
The one almost as infinite as all ;

The other blank as nothing : weigh him well :
And that which looks like pride, is courteſe :

This Ajax is half made of Heftors blood,
In love whereof, half Heftor ſtayes at home :

Half heart, half hand, half Heftor, comes to feek
This blended Knight, half Trojan and half Greek.

Achil. A maiden battel then? O I perceive you.

Aga. Here is fir Diomed: go gentle Knight,
Stand by our Ajax : as you and Lord Æneas

Conſent upon the order of their fight,
So be it; either to the uttermoft,

Or else a breach : the Combatants being kin,
Half flints their ftrife, before their ſtrokes begin.

Wyn. They are oppos'd already.

Aga. What Trojan is that fame that looks ſo heavy ?

Wyn. The youngef t Son of Priam,

And a true Knight; they call him Troilus;
Not yet mature, yet matchleſs, firm of word,
Speaking in deeds, and deedleſs in his tongue;
Not ſoon provok't, nor being provok't, ſoon calm'd;
His heart and hand both open, and both free:

For what he has, he gives; what thinks, he ſlewes;
Yet gives he not till judgement guide his bounty,
Nor dignifies an impair thought with breath :

Manly as Heftor, but more dangerous ;

For Heftor in his blaze of wrath ſubſcribes

To tender objects; but he, in heat of action
Is more vindicative than jealous love.

They call him Troilus; and on him erect,
A ſecond hope, as fairly built as Heftor.

Thus ſayes Æneas, one that knows the youth,
Even to his inches: and with private foul,

Did in great Ilion thus translate him to me.

Alarum.

Aga. They are in action.

Neft. Now Ajax hold thine own.

Troi. Heftor, thou fleep'ft, awake thee.

Aga. His blows are well diſpos'd there Ajax, trampets

Dion. You muſt no more.

Æne. Princes enough, ſo please you.

Aja. I am not warm yet, let us fight again.

Dion. As Heftor pleafes.

Heft. Why then will I no more:
Thou art great Lord, my Fathers Sifters Son ?

A cousin german to great Priams ſeed.

The obligation of our blood forbids

A gorie emulation 'twixt us twain :

Were thy commixion, Greek and Trojan ſo,
That thou could'ſt ſay, this hand is Grecian all,

And this is Trojan : the ſinews of this Leg,
All Greek, and this all Troy : my Mothers blood
Runs on the dexter cheek, and this ſinifter
Bounds in my fathers : by ſove multipotent,
Thou ſhould'ſt not bear from me a Greekifh member
Wherein my ſword had not imprefſure made
Of our rank feud : but the juſt Gods gainſay,

That any drop thou borrow'd ſt from thy mother,
My ſacred Aunt, ſhould by my mortal Sword
Be drain'd. Let me embrace thee Ajax :

By him that thunders, thou haſt Iuſy arms ;

Heftor would have them fall upon him thus,
Couſin, all honor to thee.

Aja. I thank thee Heftor :

Thou art too gentle, and too free a man :
I came to kill thee Couſin, and bear hence
A great addition, earned in thy death.

Heft. Not Neoptolemus ſo mirable,
On whose bright creft, fame with her lowd'ſt (O yes)
Cries, This is he; could promife to himself,
A thought of added honor, to none from Heftor.

Æne. There is expectance here from both the fides:
What further you will do.

Heft. We'l anſwer it :

The ilſue is embracement : Ajax, farewel,
Ajax. If I might in enteries find ſucceſſ,
As ſeld I have the chance; I would defire
My famous Couſin to our Grecian Tents.

Dion. 'Tis Agamemnon wifh, and great Achilles
Doth long to ſee unarm'd the valiant Heftor.

Hec. Æneas, call my brother Troilus to me:
And ſignify this loving enterview

To the expeſtors of our Trojan part :
Defire them home. Give me thy hand, my Couſin :
I will go eat with thee, and ſee your Knights.

Enter Agamemnon and the reſt.

Aja. Great Agamemnon comes to meet us here.
Hec. The worthieſt of them, tell me name by name:

But for Achilles, mine own ſearching eyes
Shall find him by his large and portly ſize.

Aga. Worthy of Arms : as welcome as to one,
That would be rid of ſuch an enemy.
But that's no welcome: underſand more clear

What's paſt and what's to come, is ſtrew'd with husks
And ſormleſs ruine of oblivion :
But in this extant moment, faith and troth,
Strain'd purely from all hollow bias drawing :

Bids thee with moſt divine integritie,
From heart of very heart, great Heftor, welcome.

Heft. I thank thee moſt imperious Agamemnon.

582

Aga. My well-fam'd Lord of Troy, no leſs to you.

Men. Let me confirm my Princely brothers greeting,
You brace of warlike brothers, welcome hither.

Heſt. Whom muſt we anſwer?

Ane. The noble Menelaus.

Heſt. O, you my Lord, by Mars his gauntlet thanks,
Mock not, that I affect th' untraded Oath,
Your quondam wife ſwears ſtill by Vemus Glove,
She's well, but bad me not commend her to you.

Men. Name her not now fir, ſhe's a deadly Theam.

Heſt. O pardon, I offend.

Neſ. I have (thou gallant Trojan) ſeen thee oft
Labouring for deſtiny, make cruel way

Through ranks of Greekisſh youth : and I have ſeen thee
As hot as Perſeus, spurr thy Phrygian Steed,
And ſeen thee ſcorning forfeits and ſubduments,
When thou haſt hung thy advanced ſword i'th' air.

Not letting me decline on the declined :

That I have ſaid unto my ſtanders by,
Loe Jupiter is yonder, dealing life.

And I have ſeen thee paſſe, and take thy breath,
When that a ring of Greeks, have hemm'd thee in,
Like an Olympian wraſtling. This have I ſeen,
But this thy countenance (ſtill lockt in ſeel)

584

Dio. Good night.
Troi. Hold patience.
Vlf. How now Troian ?
Cref. Diomed.
Dio. No, no, good night : Ile be your fool no more.
Troi. Thy better muſt.
Cref. Heark one word in your ear.
Troi. O plague and madneſs !
Vlf. You are moved Prince, let us depart I pray you,
Left your displeasure ſhould enlarge it ſelf
To wrathful terms: this place is dangerous ;
The time right deadly : I beſech you go.
Troi. Behold, I pray you.
Vlf. Nay, good my Lord go off :
You flow to great diſtraCTION : come my Lord.
Troi. I pray thee ſtay ?
Vlf. You have not patience, come.
Troi. I pray you ſtay ; by hell and all hells torments,
I will not ſpeak a word.
Dio. And for good night.
Cref. Nay, but you part in anger.
Troi. Doth that grieve thee? O withered truth !
Vlf. VVhy, how now Lord ?
Troi. By Jove I will be patient.
Cref. Guardian? why Greek?
Dio. Fo, fo, adieu, you palter.
Cre. In faith I do not: come hither once again.
Vlf. You ſhike my Lord at ſomething; will you go ?
You will break out.
Troi. She Strokes his cheek.
Vlf. Come, come.
Troi. Nay ſtay, by Jove I will not ſpeak a word.
There is between my will, and all offences,
A guard of patience, ſtay a little while.
Ther. How the devil Luxury with his fat rump and
Potato finger, tickles theſe together: fry lechery, fry.
Dio. But will you then ?
Cre. In faith I will go; never truſt me eſſe.
Dio. Give me ſome token for the ſurety of it.
Cref. Ile fterch you one.
Vlf. You have ſworn patience.
Troi. Fear me not ſwet Lord.
I will not be my ſelf, nor have cognition
Of what I feel : I am all patience.
Enter Creſſid.
Ther. Now the pledge, now, now, now.
Cref. Here Diomed, keep this Sleeve,
Troi. O beauty ! where is thy Faith ?
Vlf. My Lord.
Troi. I will be patient, outwardly I will.
Cref. You look upon that Sleeve; behold it well :
He lov'd me : O falſe wench : give't me again.
Dio. Whofe was't ?
Cref. It is no matter now I have't again.
I will not meet with you to morrow night :
I prithee Diomed vifit me no more.
Ther. Now ſhe ſharpens : well ſaid Whetſtone.
Dio. I ſhall have it.
Cref. What, this ?
Dio. I that.
Cre. O all you gods ! O pretty, pretty pledge;
Thy Maſter now lies thinking in his bed
Of ſhee and me, and ſights, and takes my Glove,
And gives memorial dainty kiffes to it;
As I kiff thee.
Dio. Nay, do not ſnatch it from me.
Cref. Hethat takes that, takes my heart withall.

Dio. I had you heart before, this follows it.
Troi. I did ſwear patience.
Cref. You ſhall not have it Diomed: faith you ſhall not
lie you give ſomething eſſe.
Dio. I will have this: whoſe was it ?
Cref. It is no matter.
Dio. Come tell me whoſe it was ?
Cref. 'Twas one that lov'd me better than you will.
But now you have it, take it.
Dio. Whofe was it ?
Cref. By all Diana's waiting women yonder,
And by her ſelf, I will not tell you whoſe.
Dio. To morrow will I wear it on my Helm,
And grieve his ſpirit that dares not challenge it.
Troi. Wert thou the devil, and worſt it on thy horn,
It ſhould be challeng'd.
Cref. Well, well, 'tis done, 'tis paſt; and yet it is not:
I will not keep my word.
Dio. Why then farewell,
Thou never ſhalt mock Diomed again.
Cref. You ſhall not go: one cannot ſpeak a word,
But it ſtrait starts you.
Dio. I do not like this fooling.
Ther. Nor I by Pluto: but that that likes not me, pleas-
fes me beſt.
Dio. What ſhall I come? the hour.
Cref. I, come: O Jove ! do, come: I ſhall be plagu'd.
Dio. Farewell till then.
Cref. Goodnight: I prithee come:
Troilus farewell; one eye yet looks on thee,
But with my heart, the other eye, doth ſee—
Ah poor our ſex; this fault in us I find:
The error of our eye, directs our mind.
What error leads muſt err: O then conclude,
Minds ſway'd by eyes, are full of turpitude.
Ther. A proof of ſtrength the could not pubſiſh more:
Unleſs the ſay, my mind is now turn'd whole.
Ulf. All's done my Lord.
Troi. It is.
Ulf. Why ſtay we then ?
Troi. To make a recordation to my ſoul
Of every ſyllable that here was ſpoke:
But if I tell how theſe two did coacſ;
Shall I not lie in publiſhing a truth ?
Sith yet there is a credence in my heart,
An ſeperance ſo obſtinately ſtrong,
That doth invert that reſt of eyes and ears ;
As if theſe organs had deceptious ſunctions,
Created only to calumniate.
Was Creſſid here ?
Ulf. I cannot conjure Troian.
Troi. She was not ſure.
Ulf. Moſt ſure the ſwas.
Troi. Why my negation hath no taſt of madneſs.
Ulf. Nor mine my Lord : Creſſid was here but now.
Troi. Let it not be believ'd for womanhood :
Think we had mothers; do not give advantage
To ſturbubn Criticks, apt without a Theme
For depravation, to ſquare the general ſex
By Creſſids rule. Rather think this not Creſſid.
Ulf. What hath the done Prince, that can ſoyl our
mothers ?
Troi. Nothing at all, unleſs that this were ſle.
Ther. Will the ſwagger himſelf out on's own eyes ?
Troi. This ſhe? no, this is Diomeds Creſſida :
If beauty have a ſoul, this is not the ſhe:
D d d

If

586

Fall all together.

Priam. Come Hector, come, go back :

Thy wife hath dreamt, thy mother hath had vifions,
Caffandra doth forefee ; and I my self,

Am like a Prophet suddenly enrapt,

To tell thee that this day is ominous :

Therefore come back.

Hect. Æneas is a-field,

And I do stand engag'd to many Greeks,

Even in the faith of valour, to appear

This morning to them.

Priam, I, but thou shalt not go.

Hect. I must not break my faith :

You know me dutiful, therefore dear fir,

Let me not shame respect ; but give me leave

To take that courfe by your consent and voice,

Which you do here forbid me, Royal Priam.

Caf. O Priam, yield not to him.

And. Do not dear Father.

Hect. Andromache I am offended with you :

Upon the love you bear me, get you in.

Exit Andromache.

Troi. This foolish, dreaming, superflitious girl,
Makes all thefe bodements.

Caf. O farewel, dear Hector :

Look how thy dieft; look how thy eye turns pale ;

Look how thy wounds do bleed at many vents ;

Heark how Troy roars ; how Hecuba cries out ;

How poor Andromache flirts her dolour forth ;

Behold diffraction, frency, and amazement,

Like witleſs Anticks one another meet,

And all cry Hector, Hectors dead: O Hector !

Troi. Away.

Caf. Farewel : yet, foſt: Hector I take my leave ;

Thou doſt thy ſelf, and all our Troy deceive. Exit.

Hect. You are amaz'd, my Liege, at her exclaim :

Go in and cheer the Town, we'll tother and fight :

Do deeds of præſe, and tell you them at night.

Priam. Farewel: the gods with safety stand about thee,

Alarum.

Troi. They are at it, heark: proud Diomed, believe
I come to loſe my arm, or win my ſleeve.

Enter Pandar.

Pand. Do you hear my Lord? do you hear ?

Troi. What now ?

Pand. Here's a Letter come from yond poor girl.

Troi. Let me read.

Pand. A whorfon tifick, a whorfon rafcally tifick,
to troubles me : and the foolish fortune of this girl, and
what one thing, what another, that I ſhall leave you one
o'th'dayes ; and I have a rheum in mine eyes too, and
fuch an ach in my bones, that unleſs a man were curſt,
I cannot tell what to think on't. What fayes ſhe there ?
Troi. Words, words, meer words, no matter from
the heart :

Th' effect doth operate another way.

Go wind to wind, there turn and change together :

My love with words and errors ſtill ſhe feeds ;

But edifies another with her deeds.

Pand. Why, but hear you ?

Troi. Hence brother lacy; ignomy and ſhame
Perſue thy life, and live aye with thy name.

Alarum.

Exeunt.

Enter Therſites in excursiſon.

Ther. Now they are clapper-clawing one another, Ile
go look on : that diſlembing abhominable varlet Dio-
mede, has got that fame ſcurvy, doting, foolish young
knaves Sleeve of Troy, there in his Helm: I would fain
fee them meet; that, that fame young Trojan aſſ, that loves
the whore there, might ſend that Greekiſh whore-ma-
ſterly villain, with the Sleeve, back to the diſlembling
luxurious drab, of a ſleeveleſs errant. O'th'tother ſide,
the policy of a ſhote crafty ſwearing rafcalſ; that ſtale
old Mouſe-eaten dry-cheele, Neſſor: and that fame dog-
fox Ulyſſes is not prov'd worth a Black-berry. They ſet
me up in policy, that mungrill curſ Ajax, againſt that
dog of as bad a kind, Achilles. And now is the curſ
Ajax prouder than the curſ Achilles, and will not arm
to day. Whereupon, the Grecians began to proclame
barbariſm; and policy grows into an ill opinion.

Enter Diomed and Troilus.

Soft, here comes Sleeve, and th' other.

Troi. Fly not : for ſhould I ſt thou take the River Styx,
I would ſwim after.

Diom. Thou doſt mifcall retire :

I do not flye; but advantageous care

Withdrew me from the odds of multitude :

Have at thee.

Ther. Hold thy whore Grecian: now for thy whore
Troian: Now the Sleeve, now the Sleeve.

Enter Hector.

Hect. What art thou Greek? art thou for Hector's match?

Art thou of blood, and honour ?

Ther. No, no: I am a rafcal; a ſcurvy railing kave; a
very filthy rogue.

Hect. I do believe thee, live.

Ther. God a mercy, that thou wilt believe me; but a
plague break thy neck—for frightening me: what's be-
come of the wenching rogues ? I think they have fwal-
lowed one another. I would laugh at that miracle — yet
in a fort, lechery eats itſelf: Ile seek them.

Exit.

Enter Diomed and Servant.

Dio. Go, go, my ſervant, take thou Troilus Horſe ;

Prefent the ſait Steed to my Lady Creſſid.

Fellow, commend my ſervice to her beauty :

Tell her I have chaſtis'd the amorous Trojan,

And am her Knight by proof.

Ser. I go my Lord.

Enter Agamemnon.

Aga. Renew, renew, the fierce Polidamus

Hath beat down Mewon: baſtard Margareton

Hath Doreus Přifoner,

And hands Coloſſus-wife waving his beam,

Upon the pafhed courſes of the Kings,

Epifropus and Cedus, Prolixines is ſlain;

Amphimacu, and Thous deadly hurt ;

Patroclus ta'n or ſlain, and Palamedes

Sore hurt and bruifed; the dreadful Sagittary

Appalls our numbers, haſte we Diomed

To re-inſforcement, or we perſish all.

Enter Neſſor.

Neſſ. Go bear Patroclus body to Achilles,

And bid the ſnail-pac'd Ajax arm for ſhame,

There is a thouſand Hector in the field :

Now here he fights on Galathe his Horſe ;

And there lacks work: anon he's there a-foot,

And there they flye or dye, like ſcaled ſculs,

D d d 2

Before

Before the belching Whale ; then is he yonder,
And there the fraying Greeks, ripe for his edge,
Fall down before him, like the mowers ſwath ;
Here, there, and every where, he leaves and takes;
Dexterity to obeying appetite,
That What he will he does, and does ſo much,
That proof is call'd impoſſibility.

Enter Ulysses.

Ulyss. Oh, courage, courage Princes: great *Achilles*
Is arming, weeping, curling, vowing vengeance;
*Patroclus* wounds have rouz'd his drowſe blood,
Together with his mangled *Myrmidons*,
That noſeleſs, handleſs, hackt and chipt, come to him ;
Crying on *Hestor*. *Ajax* hath loft a friend ;
And foams at mouth, and he is arm'd, and at it :
Roaring for *Troilus* ; who hath done to day,
Mad and ſantaſtick execution ;
Engaging and redeeming of himself,
With ſuch a careleſs force, and forceleſs care,
Aſiſ that luck in very ſpight of cunning, bad him win all.

Enter *Ajax*.

Aja. *Troilus*, thou coward *Troilus*. Exit.

Dio. I, there, there.

Nefl. So, ſo, we draw together. Exit.

Enter *Achilles*.

Achil. Where is this *Hestor* ?

Come, come, thou boy-quiller, ſhew thy face :
Know what it is to meet *Achilles* angry.

Heſtor, wher's Heſtor ? I will none but Heſtor. Exit.

Enter *Ajax*.

Aja. *Troilus*, thou coward *Troilus* ſhew thy head.

Enter *Diomed*.

Diom. *Troilus*, I ſay, wher's *Troilus* ?

A/a. What would it thou ?

Dio. I would correct him.

Aja. Were I the General,

Thou ſhouldst have my office,

Ere that correction : *Troilus* I ſay, what *Troilus* ?

Enter *Troilus*.

Troi. Oh traitour *Diomed* !

Turn thy ſalſe face thou traitor,

And pay thy life thou oweſt me for my horſe.

Dio. Ha, art thou there ?

A/a, Ile fight with him alone, ſtand *Diomed*.

Dio. He is my prize, I will not look upon.

Troi. Come both you cogging Greeks, have at you both. Exit *Troilus*.

Enter *Heſtor*.

Heſt. Yea *Troilus* ? O well ſought my youngeſt Brother.

Enter *Achilles*.

Achil. Now do I fee thee; have at thee *Heſtor*.

Heſt. Paufe if thou wilt.

Achil. I do diſdain thy courteſe, proud *Troian* ;

Be happy that my arms are out of uſe :

My reſt and negligence beſtriend thee now,

But thou anon ſhalt hear of me again :

Till when, go ſEEK thy fortune.

Heſt. Fare thee well :

I would have been much more a freſher man,
Had I expeſted thee: how now my Brother ?

Enter *Troilus*.

Troi. *Ajax* hath ta'n *Aeneas*, ſhall it be ?

No, by the flame of yonder glorious heaven,

He ſhall not carry him : Ile be ta'n too,

Or bring him off : Fate hear me what I ſay ;

I wreak not, though thou end my life to day. Exit.

Enter one in Armour.

Heſt. Stand, ſtand thou Grrek,

Thou art a goodly mark :

No? wilt thou not? I like thy armour well,

Ile ſtruſh it, and unlock the rivets all,

But Ile be mafter of it : wilt thou not beaſt abide ?

Why then ſlie on, Ile hunt thee for thy hide. Exit.

Enter *Achilles with Myrmidons*.

Achil. Come hear about me you my *Myrmidons*.

Mark what I ſay; attend me where I wheel :

Strike not a ſtroak, but keep your ſelves in breath;

And when I have the bloody *Heſtor* found,

Empale him with your weapons round about :

In ſelleſt manner execute your arms.

Follow me ſirs, and my proceeding eye ;

It is decreed, *Heſtor* the great muſt die. Exit.

Enter *Thorſites, Menelaus, and Paris*.

Ther. The Cuckold and the Cuckold-maker are at it:
now bull, now dog, low; Paris, low; now my double
hen'd ſparrow; low Paris, low; the bull has the game:
ware horns ho.

Exit Paris and Menelaus.

Enter *Bастard*.

*Bаст*. Turn ſlave and fight.

Ther. What art thou ?

*Bаст*. A Baſtard Son of Priams.

Ther. I am a Baſtard too, I love Baſtards, I am a Baſtard begot, Baſtard inſtructed, Baſtard in mind, Baſtard in valour, in every thing illegitimate: one Bear will not bite another, and wherefore ſhould one Baſtard ? take heed, the quarrel's moſt ominous to us : if the Son of a whole fight for a whole, he tempts judgment: farewel Baſtard.

*Bаст*. The devil take the coward. Exeunt.

Enter *Heſtor*.

Heſt. Moſt putrified core to ſair without :

Thy goodly armour thus hath coſ thy life.

Now is my days work done; Ile take good breath :

Reſt Sword, thou haſt thy fill of blood and death.

Enter *Achilles and his Myrmidons*.

Achil. Look *Heſtor* how the Sun begins to ſet :

How ugly night comes breathing at his heels,

Even with the veil and darkling of the Sun.

To cloſe the day up, *Heſtor's* life is done.

Heſt. I am unarm'd, forgo this vantage Greek.

Achil. Strike ſeflends ſtrike, this is the man I ſeeſ.

So Ilion fall thou : now Troy ſink down :

Here Iyes thy heart, thy ſinews, and thy bone.

On *Myrmidons*, cry you all a main, *Achilles* hath the mighty *Heſtor* flain. Retreat.

Hark, a retreat upon our Grecian part.

Gree. The Trojan Trumpets ſounds the like my Lord.

Achi. The dragon wing of night ore ſpreads the earth,

And ſtickler-like the Armies ſeparates;

My half ſuſt Sword, that frankly would have ſed,

Pleas'd with this dainty bit, thus goes to bed.

Come, ſye his body to my horſes tail :

Along the field: I will the Trojan trail.

Exeunt.

Sound Retreat. Shout.

Enter *Agamemnon, Ajax, Menelaus, Neſtor*,
*Diomed, and the reſt marching*.

Aga. Heark, heark, what ſhout is that ?

Neſt. Peace Drums.

Sol. Achil.

The Tragedy of Coriolanus

Adus Primus. Scæna Prima.

Enter a Company of Mutinous Citizens, with Staves,
Clubs, and other weapons.

1 Cit. Citizen.

Before we proceed any further, hear me speak.
All. Speak, Speak.

1 Cit. You are all refolv'd rather to die than
to famifh?

All. Refolv'd, refolv'd.

1 Cit. Firſt you know, Caius Martius is chief enemy
to the people.

All. We know't.

1 Cit. Let us kill him, and we'l have Corn at our
own price. Is't a Verdict?

All. No more talking on't, Let it be done, away, away.

2 Cit. One word, good Citizens.

1 Cit. We are accounted poor Citizens, the Patri-
cians good: what Authority furſets on, would relieve us;
If they would yield us but the Superfluity while it were
wholeſome, we might gueſs they relieved us humanely:
But they think we are too dear, the leannefs that afflicts
us, the object of our miſery, is as an inventory to parti-
cularize their abundance, our ſufferance is a gain to them.
Let us revenge this with our Pikes, ere we become racks.
For the God's know, I ſpeak this in hunger for Bread,
not in thirſt for Revenge.

2 Cit. Would you proceed especially againſt Caius Martius?

All. Againſt him firſt: He's a very dog to the Com-
monality.

2 Cit. Confider you what Services he ha's done for
his Country?

1 Cit. Very well, and could be content to give him
good report for't, but that he pays himself with being
proud,

All. Nay, but ſpeak not maliciously.

1 Cit. I ſay unto you, what he hath done Famouſly,
he did it to that end: though ſoft confcienc'd men can be
content to ſay it was for his Country, he did it to pleafe
his Mother, and to be partly proud, which he is, even to
the altitude of his virtue.

2 Cit. What he cannot help in his Nature, you ac-
count a Vice in him: You muſt in no way ſay he is cove-
tous.

1 Cit. If I muſt not, I need not be barren of Accuſa-
tions, he hath faults (with ſurplus) to tire in repetition.

Shouts within.

What ſhouts are thofe? The other ſide a'th' City is rife:
why ſtay we prating here? To th'Capitol.

All. Come, come.

1 Cit. Soft, who comes here?

Enter Menenius Agrippa.

2 Cit. Worthy Menenius Agrippa, one that hath al-
wayes lov'd the people.

1 Cit. He's one honest enough, would all the reſt were so.
Men. What works my Countrymen in hand?

VVhere go you with your Bats and Clubs? The matter,
Speak I pray you.

2 Cit. Our bufineſs is not unknown to th'Senat, they
have had inſking this fortnight what we intend to do,
which now we'l ſhew'm in deeds: they ſay poor Suters
have ſtrong breaths, they ſhall know we have ſtrong
arms too.

Men. VVhy Maſters, my good Friends, mine honest
Neighbours, will you undo your ſelves?

2 Cit. VVe cannot Sir, we are undone already.

Men. I tell you your Friends, moſt charitable care
Have the Patricians of you for your wants,
Your ſuffering in this dearth, you may as well
Strike at the Heaven with your ſtaves, as lift them
Againſt the Roman State, whose courſe will on
The way it takes: cracking ten thouſand Curbs
Of more ſtrong link'd a ſunder, than can ever
Appear in your impediment. For the Dearth,
The God's, not the Patricians make it, and
Your knees to them (not arms) muſt help. Alack,
You are transported by Calamity
Thither where more attends you, and you ſlander
The Helms o'th' State; who care for you like Fathers,
VVhen you curſe them, as Enemies.

2 Cit. Care for us? True indeed, they ne'r cared for us
yet. Suffer us to famiſh, and their Store-houses cramm'd
with Grain: Make Edicts for Uſury, to ſupport Uſu-
ers; repeal daily any wholeſome Act eſtablished against
the rich, and provide more peircing Statutes daily, to
chain up and reſtrain the poor. If the VVars eat us not
up, they will, and ther's all the love they hear us.

Men. Either you muſt

Confefs your ſelves wondrous Malicious,
Or be accus'd of Folly. I ſhall tell you
A pretry tale, it may be you have heard it,
But ſince it ſerves my purpose, I will venture
To ſcale't a little more.

2 Cit. Well,

Ile hear it fir: yet you muſt not think
To ſobb off our diſgrace with a tale:
But and't pleafe you deliver.

Men. There was a time, when all the bodies members
Rebell'd againſt the belly; thus accuſed it :
That only like a Gulf it did remain

I'th'

The Tragedy of Coriolanus.

590

I'ch'midd'ft a'ch'body, idle and unaetive,
Still cubbording the Viand, never bearing
Like labour with the reft, where th'other Instruments
Did fee, and hear, devife, infruct, walk, feel,
And mutually participate, did minifter
Unto the appetite; and affection common
Of the whole body; the Belly anfwers.

2 Cit. Well fir, what anfwer made the Belly.
Men. Sir, I ſhall tell you with a kind of Smile,
Whichne'r came from the Lungs, but even thus :
For look you I may make the belly ſmile,
As well as ſpeak; it tantingly replied
To'th' discontented Members, the mutinous parts
That envied his receit: even to moſt fitly,
As you malign our Senators, for that
They are not ſuch as you.

2 Cit. Your Bellies anſwer: What
The Kingly crown'd head, the vigilant eye,
The Counſellor Heart, the Arm our Souldier,
Our Steed the Leg, the Tongue our Trumpeter;
With other Muniments and perry helps

In this our Fabrick, if that they—

Men. What then? Foreme, this fellow ſpeaks.
What then? What then?

2 Cit. Should by the Cormorant belly be reſtrain'd,
Who is the ſink a'th' body.

Men. Well, what then?

2 Cit. The former Agents, if they did complain,
What could the Belly anſwer?

Men. I will tell you,

If you'l beſtow a ſmall ( of what you have little )
Patience a while; you'll hear the Bellies anſwer.

2 Cit. Y'are long about it.

Men. Note me this good friend ;

Your moſt grave Belly was deliberate,
Not raſh like his Accufers, and thus anſWER'd,
True is it my Incorporate Friends (quoth he)
That I receive the general food at firſt
Which you do live upon: and fit it is,
Because I am the Store-houſe, and the Shop
Of the whole Body. But, if you do remember,
I ſend it through the Rivers of your blood
Even to the Court, the Heart, to th' ſeat o'th' Brain,
And through the Cranks and Offices of man,
The ſtrongeſt Nerves, and ſmall inferiour Veins
From me receive that natural competency
Whereby they live. And though that all at once
(You my good Friends, this ſayes the Belly) mark me.

2 Cit. I fir, well, well.

Men. Though all at once, cannot
See what I do deliver out to each,
Yet I can make my Awdit up, that all
From me do back receive the flowr of all,
And leave me but the Bran. What ſay you te't?

2 Cit. It was an anſwer, how apply you this?

Men. The Senators of Rome, are this good Belly,
And you the mutinous Members: For examine
Their Counſels, and their Care; diſeſt things rightly,
Touching the Weal a'th' Common, you ſhall find
No publique benefit which you receive
But it proceeds, or comes from them to you,
And no way from your ſelves. What do you think ?
You, the great Toe of this Aſſembly?

2 Cit. I the great Toe? Why the great Toe?

Men. For that being one o'th' lowſt, baſeſt, pooreſt
Of this moſt wife Rebellion, thou goſt ſormoſt:

Thou Raſcal, that art worſt in blood to run,
Lead't firſt to win ſome vantage.
But make you ready your ſtiff bats and clubs,
Rome, and her Rats, are at the point of battel,
The one ſide muſt have bail.

Enter Caius Martius.

Hayl, Noble Martius.

Mar. Thanks. What's the matter you diſſenſious rogues?
That rubbing the poor Itch of your Opinion,
Make your ſelves ſcabs.

2 Cit. We have ever your good word.

Mar. He that will give good words to thee, will flatter
Beneath abhorring. What would you have, you Curs,
That like not Peace, nor Warr ? The one affrights you,
The other makes you proud. He that truſts to you,
Where he should find you Lions, finds you Hares:
Where Foxes, Geefe you are: No ſurer, no,
Than is the coal of fire upon the Ice,
Or Hailſtone in the Sun. Your virtue is,

To make him worthy, whole ſoffence ſubdues him,
And curſe that Juſtice did it. Who deſerves Greatneſs,
Deſerves your Hate, and your Aſſections are

A ſickmans Appetite, who deſires moſt that
Which would encreafe his evil. He that depends

Upon your favours, ſwims with finns of Lead,
And hews down Oaks, with ruſhes. Hang ye: truſt ye?

With every Minute you do change a Mind,
And call him Noble, that was now your Hate :

Him vilde, that was your Garland. What's the matter,
That in theſe ſeveral places of the City,
You cry againſt the Noble Senate, who
(Under the Gods) keep you in awe, which eſſe

VWould feed on one another? VWhat's their ſeekings?

Men. For Corn at their own rates, whereof they ſay
The City is well ſtor'd.

Mar. Hang 'em: They ſay,
They'l ſit by th' ſire, and preſume to know
What's done i'th' Capitol: Who's like to rife,
Who thrives, and who declines: Side faſtions, & give out
Conjeſtural Marriages, making parties ſtrong,
And ſeefling ſuch as ſtand not in their liking,
Below their cobledShoos. They ſay ther's grain enough.

VWould the Nobility lay aſide their ruth,
And let me use my Sword, I'd make a Quarry
VWith thouſands of theſe quarter'd ſlaves, as high
A I could pick my Lance.

Men. Nay, theſe are almoſt thoroughly perſwaded :
For though abundantly they lack diſcretion
Yet are they paſſing Cowardly. But I beſeech you,
VWhat ſays the other Troop?

Mar. They are diſſolv'd: Hang 'em;
They ſaid they were an hungry, ſigh'd forch Proverbs
That Hunger broke ſtone walls: that dogs muſt eat
That meat was made for mouths. That the gods ſent not
Com for the Rich men only: VWith theſe ſhreds
They vented their Complainings, which being anſwer'd
And a petition granted them, a ſtrange one,
To break the heart of generofity,

And make bold power look pale, they threw their caps
As they would hang them on the horns a'th' Moon,
Shooting their Emulation.

Men. What is granted them?

Mar. Five Tribunes to defend their vulgar wifdoms
Of their own choice. One's Junius Brutus,
Sicinius velatus, and I know not. Sdeath,

The

The Tragedy of Coriolanus.

592

*Enter Volumnia and Virgilia, mother and wife to Martius.*
*They set them down on two low stools and sit.*

*Volu.* I pray you daughter sing, or express your self in a more comfortable fort: If my Son were my Hufband, I should freelier rejoice in that abfence wherein he wonn Honor, than in the embracements of his Bed, where he should show moſt love. When yet he was but tender-bodied, and the only Son of my womb; when youth with comlineſs pluck'd all gaze his way; when for a day of Kings entreaties, a Mother should not fell him an hour from her beholding, I confidering how Honour would become ſuch a perſon, that it was no better than Picture-like to hang by th'wall, if renown made it not fit, was pleas'd to let him feek danger, where he was like to find fame: To a cruel Warr I ſent him, from whence he returued, his brows bound with Oak. I tell thee Daughter, I ſprang nor more in joy at firſt hearing he was a Man-child, than now in firſt feeling he had proved himſelf a man.

*Virg.* But had he died in the Bufineſs Madam, how then?

*Volu.* Then his good report should have been my Son, I therein would have found ilſue. Here me, proſefs ſincerity, had I a dozen ſons each in my love alike, and none ſels dear than thine, and my good Martius, I had rather had eleven dye Nobly for their Countrey, than one voluptuouſly ſurſet out of Action.

*Enter a Gentlewoman.*

*Gent.* Madam, the Lady Valeria is come to viſit you.

*Virg.* Befeech you give me leave to retire my ſelf.

*Volu.* Indeed you ſhall not :

Me thinks, I hear him further your Husbands Drum :

See him pluck Auffidius down by th'hair :

(As children from a Bear) the Volcies chunning him :

Me think, I ſee him ſtamp thus, and call thus,

Come on ye Cowards, you were got in fear

Though you were born in Rome; his bloody brow

With his mail'd hand, then wiping, forth he goes

Like to a Harveſt man, what's task'd to mote

Or all, or leſe his hire.

*Virg.* His bloomy Brow? Oh Jupiter, no blood.

*Volu.* Away you Fool; it more becomes a man

Than gilt his Trophy. The brefts of Hecuba

When the did ſuccle Heltor, look'd not lovelier

Than Heltors forehead, when it ſpit forth blood

At Grecian ſwords Contending : tell Valeria

We are fit to bid her welcome.

*Exit Gent.*

*Vir.* Heavens bleſs my Lord from ſell Auffidius.

*Vol.* He'll beat Auffidius head below his knee,

And tread upon his neck.

*Enter Valeria with an Uſher, and a Gentlewoman.*

*Val.* My Ladies both good day to you.

*Vol.* Sweet Madam.

*Vir.* I am glad to fee your Ladyship.

*Val.* How de you both? You are manifeſt houſe-keepers. What are you ſowing here ? A fine ſpot in good faith. How does your little Son ?

*Vir.* I thank your Lady-ship: Well good Madam.

*Vol.* He had rather fee the ſwords, and hear a Drum, than look upon his Schoolafter.

*Val.* A my word the Fathers Son: Ile ſwear 'tis a very pretty boy. A my troth, I look'd upon him a Wednesday half an hour together: ha's ſuch a confirm'd coun-

tenance. I ſaw him run after a gilded Butterſy, and when he caught it, he let it go again, and after it again, and over and over he comes, and up again: catcht it again : or whether his fall enrag'd him, or how 'twas, he did ſo ſet his teeth,, and tear it. Oh, I warrant how he mammoctt it.

*Vol.* One on's Fathers moods.

*Val.* Indeed Ia, 'tis a noble child.

*Virg.* A Crack Madam.

*Val.* Come, lay afide your ſitchery, I muſt have you play the idle Hufwife with me this after noon,

*Virg.* No (good Madam)

I will not out of dores.

*Val.* Not out of dores ?

*Volu.* She ſhall, ſhe ſhall.

*Vir.* Indeed no, by your patience; Ile not over the threshold, till my Lord return from the Wars.

*Val.* Fie, you confine your ſelf moſt unreasonably :

Come, you muſt go, viſit the good Lady that lies in.

*Virg.* I will with her ſpeedy ſtrength, and viſit her with my prayers: but I cannot go thither.

*Volu.* Why I pray you?

*Virg.* 'Tis not to ſave labour, nor that I want love.

*Val.* You would be another Penelope: yet they ſay, all the yarn ſhe ſpun in Wyſſes abſence, did but fill Ithaca full of Mothes. Come, I would your Cambrick were ſenſible as your finger, that you might leave pricking it for pitry. Come you ſhall go with us.

*Virg.* No good Madam, pardon me, indeed I will not forth.

*Val.* In truth Ia go with me, and Ile tell you excellent news of your Husband.

*Vir.* Oh good Madam, there can be none yet.

*Val.* Verily I do not jeſt with you: there came news from him laft night.

*Vir.* Indeed Madam?

*Val.* In earneſt it's true; I heard a Senatour ſpeak it. Thus it is: the Volcies have an Army forth, againſt whom Cominius the General is gone, with one part of our Roman power. Your Lord, and Titus Lartius, are ſet down before their City Coriolus, they nothing doubt prevailing, and to make it brief Wars. This is true on mine Honor, and ſo I pray go with us.

*Vir.* Give me excufe good Madam, I will obey you in every thing hereafter.

*Vol.* Let her alone Lady, as ſhe is now :

She will but diſeafe our better mirth.

*Vir.* In troth I think ſhe would :

Fare you well then. Come good ſweet Lady.

Prithee Virgilia turn thy ſolemnels out a dore;

And go along with us.

*Virg.* No

At a word Madam; indeed I muſt not,

I with you much mirth.

*Val.* Well, then Farewel.

*Exeunt Ladies.*

*Enter Martius, Titus Lartius, with Drum and Co-lours, with Captains and Souldiers, as before the City Coriolus : to them a Messenger.*

*Mart.* Yonder comes News :

A Wager they have met.

*Lar.* My horſe to yours, no.

*Mar.* 'Tis done.

*Lar.* Agreed.

*Mar.*

The Tragedy of Coriolanus.

Ifaw our party to their Trenches driven,
And then I came away.

Com. Though thou speakest truth,

Me thinks thou speak't not well. How long is't since?

Mef. Above an hour, my Lord.

Com. 'Tis not a mile: briefly we heard their drums.

How could't thou in a mile confound an hour,

And bring thy News so late?

Mef. Spies of the Volcies

Held me in chace, that I was forc'd to wheel

Three or four miles about, else had I fir

Half an hour since brought my report.

Enter Martinus.

Com. Whose yonder,

That does appear as he were Flead ? O Gods,

He has the stamp of *Martius*, and I have

Before time seen him thus.

Mar. Come I too late ?

Com. The Shepherd knows not Thunder from a Taber,

More than I know the found of *Martius* Tongue

From every meaner man.

Mar. Come I too late ?

Com. I, if you come not in the blood of others,

But mantled in your own.

Mar. Oh! let me clip ye

In Arms as found, as when I woo'd in heart;

As merry, as when our Nuptial day was done,

And Tapers burnt to Bedward.

Com. Flower of Warriors, how is't with Titus *Martius*?

Mar. As with a man bufied about decrees :

Condemning fome to death, and fome to exile,

Ranfoming him, or pittying, threatening th' other;

Holding *Coriolus* in the name of Rome,

Even like a fawning Grey-hound in the Leaſh,

To let him flip at will.

Com. Where is that Slave,

Which told me they had beat you to your Trenches ?

Where is he ? Call him hither.

Mar. Let him alone,

He did inform the truth: but for our Gentlemen,

The common file, (a plague Tribunes for them)

The Mouſe ne'r ſhunn'd the Cat, as they did budge

From Rafaſcs worſe than they.

Com. But how prevail'd you ?

Mar. Will the time serve to tell? I do not think :

Where is the enemy? Are you Lords a'th' Field ?

If not, why ceafe you till you are ſo ?

Com. *Martius* we have at diſadvantage ſought,

And did retire to win our purpofe.

Mar. How lies their battel? Know you on what fide

They have plac'd their men of truſt ?

Com. As I gueſs *Martius*,

Their Bands I'th' Vaward are the Ancients

Of their beſt truſt: O're them *Auffidius*,

Their very heart of Hope.

Mar. I do beſeeth you,

By all the Battels wherein we have ſought,

By th'Blood we have ſhed together,

By th'Vows we have made

To endure Friends, that you directly ſet me

Against *Auffidius*, and his *Antiaſt*,

And that you not delay the preſent ( but
Filling the air with Swords advanc'd) and Darts,

We prove this very hour.

Com. Though I could wifh,

You were conducted to a gentle Bath,

And Bilms applied to you, yet dare I never

Deny your asking, take your choice of thofe

That beſt can aid your action.

Mar. Thofe are they

That moſt are willing ; if any ſuch be here ;

(As it were fin to doubt) that love this painting

Wherein you ſee me ſmeard, if any ſear

Leſer his perſon, than an ill report :

If any think, brave death out-weighs bad life,

And that his Countries dearer than himſelf,

Let him alone : or ſo many ſo minded,

Wave thus to exprefs his diſpoſition,

And follow *Martius*.

They all ſhout, and wave their Swords, take him up in their
Arms, and cast up their Caps.

Oh me alone, make you a ſword of me :

If theſe ſhews be not outward, which of you

But is four *Volcies*? None of you, but is

Able to bear againſt the great *Auffidius*

A Shield, as hard as his. A certain number

(Though thanks to all) muſt I ſeleſt from all :

The reſt ſhall bear the buſineſs in ſome other fight

(As caufe will be obey'd:) plearſe you to march,

And four ſhall quickly draw out my Command,

Which men are beſt inclin'd.

Com. March on my Fellows :

Make good this ofſentation, and you ſhall

Divide in all, with us.

Exeunt.

Titus *Lartius*, having ſet a guard upon *Coriolus*, going with *Drum* and *Trumpet* toward *Cominius*, and *Cains* *Martius*, Enters with a Lieutenant, other *Souldiers*, and a *Scout*.

Lar. So, let the Ports be guarded; keep your Duties

As I have ſet them down. If I do ſend, diſpatch

Thofe Centuries to our aid, the reſt will ſerve

For a ſhort holding; if we loſe the Field,

We cannot keep the Town.

Lieu. Fear not our care Sir.

Lar. Hence; and ſhut your gates upon's :

Our Guider come, to th'Roman Camp conduct us. Exit.

Alarum as in Battel.

Enter *Martius* and *Auffidius* at ſeveral doors.

Mar. Ile fight with none but thee, for I do hate thee
Worſe than a Promife-breaker.

Auf. We hate alike :

Not Afriſ owns a Serpent I abhor

More than thy Fame and Envy : Fix thy foot.

Mar. Let the firſt Budger die the others *Slave*,

And the Gods doom him after.

Auf. If I ſlie *Martius*, hollow me like a Hare.

Mar. Within theſe three hours *Tullus*

Alone I fought in your *Coriolus* walls,

And made what work I pleas'd : 'Tis not my blood,

Wherein thou ſeet me maskt, for thy Revenge

Wrench up thy power to th'higheſt.

Auf. Wer't thou the *Hettor*,

That was the whip of your bragg'd Progeny,

Thou ſhould'ſt not ſcape me here.

Here they fight, and certain *Volcies* come in the aid of
*Auffid*. *Martius* fight still they be driven in breathleſſ.

Officious and not valiant, you have ſham'd me

In your condemned Seconds.

Florist

595

The Tragedy of Coriolanus.

Flourish. Alarums. A Retreat is founded. Enter at one Dore Cominius, with the Romans: At another Dore Martius, with his Arm in a Scarf.

Com. If I should tell thee o're this thy days work,
Thou'nt not believe thy deeds: but Ile report it,
Where Senators shall mingle tears with smiles,
Where great Patricians shall attend, and thrug,
I'ch'tend admire: where Ladies shall be frighted,
And gladly quak'd, hear more: where the dull Tribunes,
That with the sufty Plebeans, hate thine Honors,
Shall say againft their hearts, We thank the Gods
Our Rome hath such a Souldier.
Yet cam't thou to a Morfel of this Feaft,
Having fully din'd before.

Enter Titus with his Power, from the Purſute.

Titus Lartius. Oh General :
Here is the Steed, we the Caparifon :
Hadft thou beheld—

Mar. Pray now, no more :
My Mother, who ha's a Charter to extoll her blood,
When ſhe do's præſe me, grieves me :
I have done as you have done, that's what I can,
Induc'd as you have been, that's for my Country :
He that has but effected his good will,
Hath overa'n mine Act.

Com. You shall not be the Grave of your deferving,
Rome muſt know the value of her own :
'Twere a Concealment worſe than a Theft,
No leſs than a Traducaement,
To hide your doings, and to ſilence that,
Which to the ſpire, and top of præſes vouch'd,
Would ſeem but modelſ: therefore I beſeech you,
In ſign of what you are, not to reward
What you have done, before our Army hear me.

Mar. I have ſome wounds upon me, and they ſmarte
To hear themſelſes remembred.

Com. Should they not:
Well might they ſeſter 'gainſt Ingratitude,
And tent themſelſes with death: of all the Horſes,
Whereof we have ta'n good, and good ſtore of all,
The Treaſure in this field atchiev'd, and City,
We render you the Tenth, to be ta'n forth,
Before the common diſtribution,
At your only choice.

Mar. I thank you General :
But cannot make my heart conſent to take
A Bribe, to pay my Sword: I do ſe refuse it,
And ſand upon my common part with thatſe,
That have beheld the doing.

A long flourish. They all cry, Martius, Martius,
cast up their Caps and Lamces: Cominius
and Lartius ſtand bare.

Ma. May theſe fame Inſtruments, which you prophane,
Never found more: when Drums and Trumpets ſhall
I'ch'tield prove flatterers, let Courts and Cities be
Made of all faſſe-fac'd soothing :
When Steel grows ſoſte, as the Paraſites Silk,
Let him be made an Overture for th' wars :
No more I ſay, for that I have not waſh'd

My Noſe that bled, or foil'd ſome debile wretch,
Which without note, here's many else have done,
You ſhoot me forth in acclamations hyperbolical,
As if I lov'd my little ſhould be dieted
In præſes, ſawc't with Lies.
Com. Too modelſ are you :
More cruel to your good report, than grateful
Totus, that give you truly: by your patience,
If againſt your ſelf you be incens'd, we'l put you
( Like one that means his proper harm ) in Manacles,
Then reaſon safely with you: Therefore be it known,
As to us, to all the world, that Caius Martius
Wears this wars garland: in token of the which,
My noble Steed, known to the Camp, I give him,
With all his trim belonging, and from this time,
For what he did before Coriolus, call him;
With all th'applaſe and clamor of the Hoaſt,
Martius Caius Coriolanus. Bear th'addition Nobly ever?

Flourish. Trumpets found, and Drums.

Omnes. Martius Caius Coriolanus.

Mar. I will go waſh :

And when my Face is fair, you ſhall perceive
Whether I bluſh, or no: howbeit, I thank you.
I mean to ſtride your Steed, and at all times

To under-creſt your good Addition,
To th'fairneſs of my power.

Com. So, to our Tent :
Where ere we do repoſe us, we will write
To Rome of our ſuccefs: you Titus Lartius
Muſt to Coriolus back, ſend us to Rome
The beſt, with whom we may articulate,
For their own good, and ours.

Lar. I ſhall, my Lord.
Mar. The Gods begin to mock me :
I that now reſus'd moſt Princely gifts,
Am bound to beg of my Lord General.

Com. Tak't, 'tis yours: what is't?

Mar. I ſometimely lay here in Coriolus,
At a poor mans houſe: he us'd me kindly.
He cry'd to me: I ſaw him Priſoner :
But then Auffidius was within my view,
And wrath o're-whelm'd my pitty: I requeſt you
To give my poor Hoſt freedom.

Com. Oh well begg'd :
VVere he the Butcher of my Son, he ſhould
Be free as is the wind: deliver him, Titus.

Lart. Martius, his Name.
Mar. By Jupiter ſorg ſor ſor:
I am weary, yea my memory is tyr'd:
Have we no wine here ?
Com. Go we to our Tent :
The blood upon your Vifage dries, 'tis time
It ſhould be lookt too: come.

Exeunt.

A flourish. Cornets. Enter Tullus Auffidius
blaody, with two or three Souldiers.

Auf. The Town is ta'n,
Soul. *Twill be deliver'd back on good Condition.
Auf. Condition?

I would I were a Roman, for I cannot,
Being a Volcie, be, that I am. Condition?
What good Condition can a Treaty find
I'ch't part that is at mercy? five times, Martius,
I have fought with thee; ſo often haſt thou beat me:
And would it do ſo, I think, ſhould we encounter

As

The Tragedy of Coriolanus.

596

And often as we eat. By the Elements,
If ere again I meet him beard to beard,
He's mine, or I am his : Mine Emulation
Hath not that honor in't it had : For where
I thought to crush him in an equal Force,
True Sword to Sword : Ile potch at him some way,
Or wrath, or Craft may get him.

Sol. He's the devil.

Auf. Bolder, though not to fubtle: my valor's poifon'd;
With only suffering fitain by him : for him
Shall flie out of it felf, nor fleep, nor fanctuary,
Being naked, ſick; nor Phane, nor Capitol,
The Prayers of Prieſts, nor times of Sacrifice :
Embarquements all of Fury, ſhaſt lift up
Their rotten Privilege, and Cuffom 'gainſt
My hate to Martius. Where I find him, were it
At home, upon my brothers Guard, even there
Against the hofpitable Canon, would I
Waſh my ſterce hand in's heart. Go you to th'City,
Learn how 'tis held, and what they are that muſt
Be Hoftages for Rome.

Sol. Will not you go ?

Auf. I am attended at the Cyprus grove. I pray you ('Tis South the City Mill) bring me word whether How the world goes : that to the pace of it I may ſpurr on my journey.

Sol. I ſhall fir.

## Actus Secundus

Enter Menenius with the two Tribunes of the people, Sicinius and Brutus.

Men. The Augurer tells me, we shall have news to night.

Bru. Good, or bad ?

Men. Not according to the prayer of the people, for they love not Martius.

Sicin. Nature teaches Beaſts to know their Friends.

Men. Pray you, who does the Wolf love ?

Sicin. The Lamb.

Men. I, to devour him, as the hungry Plebeians would the Noble Martius.

Bru. He's a Lamb indeed, that baes like a Bear.

Men. He's a bear indeed, that lives like a Lamb.
You two are old men, tell me one thing that I shall ask you.

Boh. Well fir.

Men. In what enormity is Martius poor in, that you two have not in abundance ?

Bru. He's poor in no one fault, but ſtor'd with all.

Sicin. Especially in Pride.

Bru. And topping all others in boaſt.

Men. This is ſtrange now : Do you two know, how you are cenſured here in the City, I mean of us a'th'right hand File, do you ?

Bru. Why? how are we cenſured ?

Men. Because you talk of Pride now, will you not be angry ?

Boh. Well, well fir, well.

Men. Why 'tis no great matter; for a very little chief of Occafion, will rob you of a great deal of Patience:

Give your diſpoſitions the reins, and be angry at your pleatures (at the leaſt) if you take it as a pleasure to you, in being ſo; you blame Martius for being proud.

Brut. We do it not alone, fir.

Men. I know you can do very little alone, for your helps are many, or else your actions would grow wondrous ſinglè : your abilities are too Inſint-like, for doing much alone. You talk of Pride: Oh, that you could turn your eyes toward the Napes of your necks, and make but an interioſt ſurvey of your good ſelves. Oh that you could !

Boh. What then fir ?

Men. Why then you ſhould discover a brace of unmeriting, proud, violent, teſty Magiſtrates (alias Fools) as any in Rome.

Sicin. Menenius, you are known well enough too.

Men. I am known to be a humorous Patritian, and one that loves a cup of hot Wine, with not a drop of alay-ing Tiber in't: Said to be something imperſect in favour-ing the firſt complaint, haſty and Tender-like upon, to trivial motion: One, that converſes more with the Buttock of the night, than with the forehead of the morning. What I think I utter, and ſpend my malice in my breath. Meeting two ſuch Weals-men as you are (I cannot call your Licurguſſes) if the drink you give me, touch my Palat adverfly, I make a crooked face at it. I can ſay, your Worſhips have deliver'd the matter well, when I find the Aſs in compound, with the Major part of your ſyllables. And though I muſt be content to bear with thate, that ſay you are reverend grave, yet they lye deadly, that tell you have good faces ; if you fee this in the Map of my Microcofm, follows it that I am known well enough too ? What harm can your beefom Conſpectuities glean out of this Character, if I be known well enough too ?

Bru. Come fir come, we know you well enough.

Men. You know neither me, your ſelves, nor any thing: you are ambitious, for poor knaves caps and legs: you wear out a good wholeſome Fore-noon, in hearing a cauſe between an Orendge wife, and a Forſetfeller, and then rejourn the Controverſie of three-pence to a ſecon'd day of Audience. When you are hearing a matter between party and party, if you chance to be pinch'd with the Collick: you make faces like Mummers, ſet up the bloody Flagg against all Patience, and in roaring for a Chamber pot, diſmifs the Controverſie bleeding, the more intangled by your hearing : All the peace you make in their Caufe, is calling both the parties Knaves. You are a pair of ſtrange ones.

Bru. Come, come, you are well underſood to be a perſecker gyber for the Table, than a neceſſary Bencher in the Capitol.

Men. Our very Prieſts muſt become Mockers, if they ſhall encounter ſuch ridiculous Subjeſts as you are, when you ſpeak beſt unto the purpose, It is not worth the wagging of your Beards, and your Beards deferne not to honourable a grave, as to ſtuff a Borchers Cuthion, or to be intomb'd in an Aſſes Pack-faddle ; yet you muſt be ſaying, Martius is proud : who in a cheap eſtimation, is worth all your predeceſſors ſince Deucalion, though peradventure ſome of the beſt of 'em were hereditary hang-men. God den to your Worſhips, more of your converſation would inſect my brain, being the Heardſmen of the Beaſtly Plebeians. I will be bold to take my leave of you.

Brutus, and Sicinius.
Eee

Aſide,
Enter

The Tragedy of Coriolanus.

Enter Volumnia and Valeria.

How now (my as Fair as Noble) Ladies, and the Moon
were she Earthly, no Nobler; whither do you follow
your Eyes so faft ?

Volum. Honorable Menenius, my Boy Martius appro-
ches : for the love of Juno let's go.

Menen. Ha? Martius comming home ?

Volum. I, worthy Menenius, and with moft prosperous
approbation.

Menen. Take my Cap Jupiter, and I thank thee :
hoo, Martius comming home ?

2 Ladies. Nay, 'tis true.

Volum. Look, here's a Letter from him, the State hath
another, his Wife another, and (I think) there's one at
home for you.

Menen. I will make my very houſe reel to night:
A Letter for me?

Virgil. Yes certain, there's a Letter for you, I saw't.

Menen. A Letter for me? it gives me an Eſtate of ſe-
ven years health; in which time, I will make a Lip at the
Phyſician:The moſt ſoveraignt Preſcription in Galen,
is but Empericktique; and to this Preſervative, of no
better report than a Horſe-drench. Is he not wounded ?
he was want to come home wounded ?

Virgil. Oh no, no, no.

Volum. Oh, he is wounded, I thank the gods for't.

Menen. So do I too, if it be not too much: brings a
Viſtorie in his Pocket ? the wounds become him.

Volum. On's Brows: Menenius, he comes the third
time home with the Oaken Garland.

Menen. Ha's he diſciplin'd Auffidius foundly ?

Volum. Titus Lartius writes, they fought together, but
Auffidius got off.

Menen. And 'twas time for him too, Ile warrant him
that: and he had ſtay'd by him, I would not have been ſo
ſiddious'd, for all the Cheſts in Coriolanus, and the Gold
that's in them. Is the Senate poſſeft of this ?

Volum. Good Ladies let's go. Yes, yes, yes: The
Senate ha's Letters from the General, wherein he gives
my Son the whole Name of the Warr, he hath in this
Action out-done his former deeds doubly.

Valer. In troth there's wondrous things ſpoke of him.

Menen. Wondrous ? I, I warrant you, and not with-
out his true purchasing.

Virgil. The gods grant them true.

Volum. True ? pow waw.

Mene. True ? He be ſworn they are true: where is
he wounded, God gave your good Worſhips ? Martius
is comming home: he ha's more caufe to be proud :
where is he wounded ?

Volum. I'th'Sholder, and i'th'left Arm: there will be
large Cicatrices to ſhew the People, when he ſhall ſtand
for his place: he received in the repulſe of Tarquin ſeven
hurts i'th'Body.

Men. One i'th'Neck, and two i'th' Thigh, there's nine
that I know.

Volum. He had, before this laſt Expedition, twenty
five Wounds upon him.

Men. Now it's twenty ſeven; every gath was an E-
nemies Grave. Heark, the Trumpets.

A ſhout, and Flourish.

Volum. These are the Uſhers of Martius :
Before him, he carries Noife ;
And behind him, he leaves Tears :

Death, that dark Spirit, in's nervy Arm doth lye,
Which being advanc'd, declines, and then men dye.

A Sonet. Trumpets found.

Enter Cominius the General, and Titus Lartius: between
them Coriolanus, crown'd with an Oaken
Garland, with (captains and Soul-
diers, and a Herauld.

Hera. Know Rome, that all alone: Martius did fight
Within Coriolanus Gates: where he hath wonn,
With Fame, a Name to Martius Caius:
Thefe in honor follows Martius Caius, Coriolanus.
Welcome to Rome, renowned Coriolanus.

Sound. Flourish.

All. Welcome to Rome, renowned Coriolanus.

Corio. No more of this, it does offend my heart; pray
now no more.

Com. Look, Sir, your Mother.

Corio. Oh! you have, I know, petition'd all the gods
for my profiwerth. Kneels.

Volum. Nay, my good Souldier, up:
My gentle Martius, worthy Caius,
And by deed-achieving Honor newly nam'd,
What is it (Coriolanus) muſt I call thee ?
But oh, thy Wife.

Corio. My gracious ſilence, haif:
Would'ſt thou have laugh'd, had I come Coffin'd home,
That weep'ſt to fee me triumph ? Ah my dear,
Such eyes the Widows in Coriolanus wear,
And Mothers that lack Sons.

Men. Now the gods Crown thee.

Com. And live you yet? Oh my ſweet Lady, pardon,
Volum. I know not where to turn.

Oh welcome home: and welcome General,
And y'are welcome all.

Men. A hundred thouſand Welcomes:
I could weep, and I could laugh,
I am light, and heavy; welcome :

A Curſe begin at very root on's heart,
That is not glad to fee thee.

You are three, that Rome ſhould dote on:

Yet by the faith of men, we have
Some old Crab-trees here at home,
That will not be grafted to your Reſt.

Yet welcome Warriors :

We call a Nettle, but a Nettle ;

And the faults of fools, but folly.

Com. Ever right.

Cor. Menenius, ever, ever.

Here. Give way there, and go on :

Cor. Your Hand, and yours ?

Ere in our own houſe I do ſhade my head,
The good Patricians muſt be viſited,
From whom I have receiv'd not only greetings,
But with them, change of honors.

Volum. I have lived,

To fee inherited my very Wishes,

And the Buildings of my Fancy :

Only there's one thing wanting,
Which (I doubt not) but our Rome.

Will caſt upon thee.

Cor. Know, good Mother,

I had rather be their ſervant in my way,
Than ſway with them in theirs.

Com. On, to the Capitol. Flourish. Cornets

Exeunt in State, as before.

Enter

The Tragedy of Coriolanus.

598

Enter Brutus and Sicinius.

Bru. All tongues speak of him, and the bleared fightes
Are spectacled to see him. Your pratling Nurse
Into a rapture lets her Baby cry,
While she chats him: the Kitchin Malkin pinnas.
Her richeft Lockram 'bout her reechy neck,
Clambring the Walls to eye him:
Stalls, Bulks, Windows, are smother'd up,
Leads fill'd, and Ridges hors'd.
With variable Complexions; all agreeing
In earneſtneſts to fee him: ſeld-shown Flamin
Do preſs 'mong the popular Throngs, and puff
To win a vulgar ſtation: our veil'd Dames
Commit the Warr of White and Damask
In their nicely gawded Cheeks, to th' wanton foil
Of Phebus burning Kiffes: ſuch a poother,
As if that whatfoever God, who leads him,
Were ſily crept into his humane powers,
And gave him graceful poſture.

Sicin. On the fuddain, I warrant him Conſul.

Bru. Then our Office may, during his power, go
fleep.

Sici. He cannot temp'rately transport his honors,
From where he should begin, and end, but will
Loſe that he hath won.

Bru. In that there's comfort.

Sic. Doubt not,

The Commoners, for whom we ſtand, but they
upon their antient malice, will forget
With the leaſt cauſe, theſe his new honors,
Which that he will give them, make I as little queſtion,
as he is proud to do't.

Bru. I heard him ſwear

Were he to ſtand for Conſul, never would he
 Appear i'th' Market place, nor on him put
 The Naples Vſuture of humiſtity,
 Nor ſhewing (as the manner is) his Wounds
 To th' people, beg their ſtinking Breaths.

Sic. 'Tis right.

Bru. It was his word :

Oh he would miſs it, rather than carry it,
But by the ſute of the Gentry to him,
And the deſire of the Nobles.

Sici. I wſaw no better, than have him hold that pur-
pole, and to put it in execution.

Bru. 'Tis moſt like he will.

Sici. It ſhall be to him then, as our good wills, a ſure
deſtruction.

Bru. So iuſtum fall out

To him, or our Authorities, for an end.

We muſt ſuggeſt the People, in what hatred

He ſtill hath held them: that to's power he would
Have made them Mules, ſilenc'd their Pleaders,
And diſproportioned their Freedoms; holding them,
In humane Action, and Capacity,

Of no more Soul, nor fitneſs for the world,

Than Camels in their Warr, who have their Provand
Only for bearing Burthens, and ſore blows

For ſinking under them.

Sic. This (as you ſay) ſuggeſted,

At ſome time, when his ſoaring inſolence.

Shall teach the People, which time ſhall not want,
If he be put upon't, and that's as eafe,

As to get Doggs on Sheep, will be his fire

To kindle their dry Stubble: and their Blaze
Shall darken him forever.

Enter a Messanger.

Bru. What's the matter?

Mess. You are ſent for to the Capitol.

'Tis thought, that *Martius* shall be Conſul; I
have ſeen the dumb men throng to fee him,
And the blind to hear him ſpeak: Matrous ſung Gloves,
Ladies and Maids, their Scarſſes, and Handkerchers,
Upon him as he pafs'd: the Nobles bended

As to Joves Statue, and the Commons made

A Shower, and Thunder, with their Caps, and Shouts:
I never ſaw the like.

Bru. Let's to the Capitol,

And carry with us ears and eyes for th'time,
But hearts for the event.

Sic. Have with you,

Exeunt.

Enter two Officers, to lay Cuffions; as it were,
in the Capitol.

1 Off. Come, come, they are almost here: how many
land for Conſulſhips?

2 Off. Three, they ſay: but 'tis thought of every one
Coriolanus will carry it.

1 Off. That's a brave ſellow, but he's vengeance proud,
and loves not the common people.

2 Off. 'Faith, there hath been many great men that
have flatter'd the people, who ne'r loved them; and there
be many that they have loved, they know not wherefore:
so that if they love they know not why, they hate upon
no better a ground. Therefore, for Coriolanus neither to
care whether they love, or hate him, manifeſts the true
knowledge he ha's in their diſpoſition, and out of his No-
ble earneſtneſs lets them plainly fee't.

1 Off. If he did not care whether he had their love, or
no, he waved indifferently, 'twixt doing them neither
good, nor harm: but he feeks their hate with greater
devotion, than they can render it him; and leaves nothing
undone, that may fully diſcover him their oppoſite.
Now to ſeem to affect the malice and diſpleasure of the Peo-
ple, is as bad, as that which he diſlikes, to flatter them
for their love.

2 Off. He hath deſerved worthily of his Countrey,
And his aſcent is not by ſuch eafe degrees as that ſo,
who having been ſupple and courteous to the People, Bon-
netted, without any further deed, to have them at all into
their eſtimation, and report: but he hath ſo planted his
honors in their Eyes, and his actions in their hearts, that
for their Tongues to be ſilent, and not confels ſo much,
were a kind of ingrateſul injury: to report otherwife,
were a Malice, that giving it ſelf the Lye, would pluck
reproof and rebuke from every Ear that heard it.

1 Off. No more of him, he's a worthy man: make
way, they are comming.

A Sonnet. Enter the Patricians, and the Tribunes of
the People, Lillors before them; Coriolanus, Men-
nen us, Cominius the Conſul: Sicinius and
Brutus take their places by themselves.

Coriolanus stands.

Men. Having determin'd of the Volciet,

And to fend for Titus Lartius: it remains,
As the main Point of this our after-meeting,

Eee 2

To

The Tragedy of Coriolanus.

599

To gratifie his Noble service, that hath
Thus flood for his Country. Therefore pleafe you,
Moſt reverend and grave Elders, to defire
The prefent Conſul, and laſt General,
In our well-found Succeſſes, to report
A little of that worthy Work perform'd
By *Martius Caius Coriolanus* : whom
We met here, both to thank, and to remember
With honors like himſelf.

1 Sen. Speak good Cominius :

Leave nothing out for length, and make us think
Rather our flates defective for requital,
Than we to ſtretch it out. Mafters a'th'People,
We do requeſt your kindſt ear, and after,
Your loving motion toward the common Body,
To yield what paffes here.

*Sicin.* We are convened upon a pleafing Treaty, and
have hearts inclinable to honor and advance the Theam
of our Aſſembly.

*Bru.* Which the rather we ſhall be bleſſ to do, if he
remember a kinder value of the People, than he hath
hereto priz'd them at.

*Men.* That's off, that's off: I would you rather had
been ſilent: Pleafe you to hear Cominius ſpeak ?

*Bru.* Moſt willingly: but yet my Caution was more
pertinent than the rebuke you give it.

*Men.* He loves your people, but tye him not to be
their Bedfellow: Worthy Cominius ſpeak.

*Coriolanus* rifes, and offers to go away.

Nay, keep your place.

*Senat.* Sir, *Coriolanus*, never ſhame to hear
What you have Nobly done.

*Corio.* Your honors pardon :

I had rather have my Wounds to heal again,
Than hear ſay how I got them.

*Bru.* Sir, I hope my words dis-bench'd you not ?

*Corio.* No Sir: yet of,

When blows have made me ſay, I fled from words.

You ſooth'd not, therefore hurt not : but your people,
I love them as they weigh—

*Men.* Pray now ſit down.

*Corio*, I had rather have one ſcratch my Head i'th'Sun,
When the Alarum were ſtruck, than idly ſit

To hear my Nothings monſter'd.

*Exit Coriolanus.*

*Men.* Maſters of the People,

Your multiplying Spawn, how can he flatter ?

That's thouſand to one good one, when you now fee
He had rather venture all his Limbs for honor,
Than one on's Ears to hear it. Proceed Cominius.

*Com.* I ſhall lack voice : the deeds of Coriolanus
Should not be utter'd ſeebly : it is held,
That Valour is the chieſet Virtue, and
Moſt dignifies the haver : if it be,
The man I ſpeak of, cannot in the World
Be ſingly counter-poys'd. At ſixteen years,

When *Tarquin* made a Head for Rome, he fought
Beyond the mark of others: our then Dictator,
Whom with all praife I point at, law him fight,
When with his Amazonian Chin he drove
The brizled Lips before him: he beſtrid
An o're-preſt Roman, and i'th'Conſuls view
/lew three oppoſers: *Tarquins* ſelf he met,
And ſtruck him on his Knee: in that days ſeats,
When he might aſt the woman in the Scene,
He prov'd beſt man i'th'field, and for his meed
Was Brow-bound with the Oak. His Pupil-age

Man-entred thus, he waited like a Sea,
And in the brunt of ſeventeen Battels ſince,
He lurcht all Swords o'th'Garland : for this laſt,
Before, and in *Coriolanus*, let me ſay

I cannot ſpeak him home : he ſtopt the ſlyers,
And by his rare example made the Coward

Turn terror into ſport : as Waves before
A Vessel under ſay, ſo men obey'd,

And fell below his Stem : his Sword (Deaths ſtamp)
Where it did mark, it took from face to foot :

He was a thing of Blood, whose every motion

Was trimm'd with dying Cries : alone he entred
The mortal Gate o'th'City, which he painted
With ſhunleſs defamy : aidleſs came off,

And with a ſudden re-inſforcement ſtruck
*Coriolus* like a Planet : now all's this,

When by and by the din of Wart 'gan peirce
His ready ſence, then ſtraight his doubled ſpirit
Requickued what in fleſh was fatigate,

And to the Battel came he, where he did
Run reeking o're the lives of men, as if
'Twere a perpetual ſpoyl; and till we call'd
Both field and City ours, he never ſood
To eafe his breſt with painting.

*Men.* Worthy man.

*Senat.* He cannot but with meaſure fit the honors
which we devife him.

*Com.* Our ſpoyls he kickt at,

And look'd upon things precious, as they were
The common Muck o'th'World : he covets leſs
Than Mifery it ſelſ would give, rewards his deeds
With doing them, and is content
To ſpend the time, to end it.

*Men.* He's right Noble, let him be call'd for.

*Senat.* Call Coriolanus.

*Off.* He doth appear.

*Enter Coriolanus.*

*Men.* The Senate, Coriolanus, are well pleas'd to make
thee Conful.

*Corio.* I do owe them ſill my life, and Services.

*Men.* It then remains, that you do ſpeak to the
People.

*Corio.* I do beſeech you,

Let me o're-leap that cuſtom : for I cannot
Put on the Gown, ſtand naked, and entreat them
For my Wounds ſake, to give their ſufferage :
Please you that I may paſſ this doing.

*Sicin.* Sir, the people muſt have their Voices,
Neither will they bate one jot of Ceremony.

*Men.* Put them not to't :

Pray you go fit you to the Cuſtom,
And take to you, as your Predeceſſors have,
Your honor with your form.

*Corio.* It is a part that I ſhall bluſh in aſting,
And might well be taken from the People.

*Bru.* Mark you that.

*Corio.* To brag unto them, thus I did, and thus,
Shew them th'unaking ſkarrs, which I ſhould hide,
As if I had receiv'd them for the hire
Of their breath only.

*Men.* Do not ſtand upon't :

We recommend to you Tribunes of the People
Our purpofe to them, and to our Noble Conful
With we all Joy, and Honor.

*Senat.*

The Tragedy of Coriolanus.

600

Senat. To Coriolanus come all joy and honor.

Flourish Cornets.

Then Exeunt. Manet Sicinius and Brutus.

Bru. You see how he intends to use the People.

Sicin. May they perceive's intent: he will require them
As if he did contemn what he requesfed,
Should be in them to give.

Bru. Come, we'll inform them

Of our proceedings here on th' Market place,
I know they do attend us.

Enter Seven or eight Citizens.

1 Cit. Once if he do require our voices, we ought not to deny him.

2 Cit. We may Sir if we will.

3 Cit. We have power in our felves to do it, but it is
a power that we have no power to do : For, if he shew
us his wounds, and tell us his deeds, we are to put our
tongues into those wounds, and speak for them : So if
he tell us his noble deeds, we must also tell him our noble
acceptance of them. Ingratiate is montrous, and for the
multitude to be ingrateful, were to make a Monfter of
the multitude; of the which, we being members, should
bring our felves to be montrous members.

1 Cit. And to make us no better thought of a little
help will serve : for once we flood up about the Corn,
he himself ſtuck not to call us the many-headed Mul-
titude.

3 Cit. We have been call'd fo of many, not that our
heads are fome brown, fome black, fome Abram, fome
bald; but that our wits are ſo diverfly Colour'd, and tru-
ly I think, if all our wits were to influe out of one Scull,
they would flye East, West, North, South, and their con-
fent of one direct way, ſhould be at once to all the points
a'th'Compafs.

2 Cit. Think you so ? Which way do you judge my
wit would flye?

3 Cit. Nay your wit will not ſo ſoon out as another
mans will, 'tis strongly wedg'd up in a blockhead : but
if it were at liberty, 'twould ſure Southward.

2 Cit. Why that way ?

3 Cit. To lofe it ſelf in a Fogg, where being three
parts melted away with rotten Dews, the fourth would
return for Conſcience ſake, to help to get thee a Wife.

2 Cit. You are never without your tricks, you may,
you may.

3 Cit. Are you all resolved to give your voices ? But
that's no matter, the greater part carries it, I fay. If he
would incline to the People, there was never a worthier
man.

Enter Coriolanus in a gown of Humility, with
Menenius.

Here he comes, and in the Gown of humility, mark
his behaviour: we are not to ſay all together, but to come
by him where he stands, by ones, by twoes, and by threes.
He's to make his requeſts by particulars, wherein every
one of us ha's a ſingle Honor, in giving him our own
voices with our own tongues, therefore follow me, and
lie direct you how you ſhall go by him.

All, Content, content.

Men. Oh Sir, you are not right, have you not known
The worthieſt men have don't ?

Corio. What muſt I fay, I pray Sir ?
Plague upon't, I cannot bring

My tongue to ſuch a pace. Look Sir, my wounds,
I got them in my Countries ſervice, when
Some certain of your Brethren roar'd, and ran

From the noife of our own drums;

Men. Oh me the gods, you muſt not ſpeak of that;
You muſt define them to think upon you.

Corio. Think upon me ? Hang 'em,

I would they would forget me, like the Virtues
Which our Divines loſe by 'em.

Men. You'l marr all,

Ile leave you : Pray you ſpeak to 'em, I pray you
In wholeſome manner.

Exit.

Enter three of the Citizens.

Corio. Bid them wäß their Faces,
And keep their teeth clean: So here comes a brace,
You know the caufe (Sir) of my standing here.

3 Cit. We do Sir, tell us what hath brought you to't.
Corio. Mine own defert.

2 Cit. Your own defert ?

Corio, I, not mine own defire.

3 Cit. How not your own deſire ?

Corio. No Sir, 'twas never my deſire yet to trouble
the poor with begging.

3 Cit. You muſt think if we give you any thing, we
hope to gain by you.

Corio. Well then I pray, your price a'th'Conſulſhip.

1 Cit. The price is, to ask it kindly.

Corio. Kindly ſir, I pray let me ha't: I have wounds to
ſhow you, which ſhall be yours in private : your good
voice Sir, what ſay you ?

2 Cit. You ſhall ha't worthy Sir.

Corio. A match Sir, there's in all two worthy voices
begg'd : I have your Almes, Adieu.

3 Cit. But this is ſomething odd.

2 Cit. And 'twere to give again: but 'tis no matter.

Exeunt. Enter two other Citizens.

Corio. Pray you now, if it may stand with the tune
of your voices, that I may be Conſul, I have here the
Cuftomary Gown.

1. You have deſerved Nobly of your Country, and
you have not deſerved Nobly.

Corio. Your Ænigma?

1. You have been a ſcourge to her enemies, you have
been a Rod to her Friends, you have not indeed loved
the Common People.

Corio. You should account me the more Virtuous, that
I have not been common in my Love, I will fir flatter
my ſworn Brother the People to earn a dearer eſtima-
tion of them, 'tis a condition they account gentle: & ſince
the wifdome of their choice, is rather to have my hat,
than my heart, I will practice the inſinuating nod, and be
off to them moſt counterſitly, that is fir, I will counter-
ſit the bewiſchment of ſome popular man, and give it
bountiful to the deſires : Therefore beſeech you, I may
be Conſul.

2 We hope to find you our friend: and therefore give
you our voices heartily.

1. You have received many wounds for your Coun-
trey.

Corio. I will not Seal your knowledge with ſhewing
them. I will make much of your voices, and ſo trouble
you no farther.

Both, The gods give you joy Sir heartily.

Corio. Moſt ſweet Voices :
Better it is to dye, better to ſteſe,
Than crave the hire, which firſt we do deſerve.
Why in this Woolſiſh gown should I ſtand here,
To beg of Hob and Dick, that does appear

Eee 3

Their

The Tragedy of Coriolanus.

Their needlefs Vouches: Cuftom calls me to't:
What Cuftom wills in all things, fhou'd we do't?
The Duft on antique Time would lie unſwept,
And mountainous Error be too highly heart,
For Truth o're-peer. Rather than fool it ſo,
Let the high Office and the Honor go,
To one that would do thus. I am half through,
The one part ſuffer'd, the other will I do.

*Enter three Citizens more.*

Here come more Voices.
Your Voices ? for your Voices I have fought,
Watcht for your Voices : for your Voices, bear
Of Wounds, two dozen odd : Battels thrice fix
I have feen, and heard of : for your Voices,
Have done many things, ſome leſs, ſome more :
Your Voices ? indeed I would be Conful.

1 Cit. He has done Nobly, and cannot go without any honest mans Voice.

2 Cit. Therefore let him be Conful: the Gods give him joy, and make him good friend to the people.

All. Amen, Amen. God save thee, Noble Conful.

*Corio.* Worthy Voices.

*Enter Menenius, with Brutus, and Sicinius.*

*Men.* You have flood your Limitation :

And the Tribunes endue you with the Peoples Voice,
Remains, that in th'Official Marks inſteemed,
You anon do meet the Senate.

*Corio.* Is this done ?

Sic. The Cuftom of Requeſt you have diſcharg'd :
The People do admit you, and are ſummonly

To meet anon, upon your approbation.

*Corio.* Where ? at the Senate-houſe ?

Sic. There, Coriolanus.

*Corio.* May I change theſe Garments ?

Sicin. You may Sir.

*Corio.* That He ſtraight do: and knowing my ſelf again
Repair to th'Senate-houſe.

*Men.* He ſeep your company. Will you along ?

*Bru.* We ſtay here for the People.

*Sicin.* Fare you well.

*Exeunt Coriol. and Men.*

He has it now : and by his Looks, me thinks
'Tis warm at's heart.

*Bru.* With a proud heart he wore his humb'e Weeds:
Will you diſmifs the People ?

*Enter the Plebeians.*

Sic. How now, my Maſters, have you chofe this man?

1 Cit. He ha's our Voices, Sir.

*Bru.* We pray the Gods, he may defer your loves.

2 Cit. Amen, Sir : to my poor unworthy notice,

He mock'd us, when he begg'd our Voices.

3 Cit. Certainly he flowted us down-right.

1 Cit. No, 'tis his kind of ſpeech, he did not mock us.

2 Cit. Not one amongſt us, ſave your ſelf, but ſayes
He us'd us ſcornfully : he ſhould have ſhew'd us
His Marks of Merit, Wounds receiv'd for's Country,
Sicin. Why ſo he did, I am ſure.

All. No, no; no man ſaw 'em.

3 Cit. He ſaid he had Wounds,

Which he could ſhew in private :
And with his Hat, thus waving it in ſcorn,
I would be Conful, ſayes he : aged Cuſtom,
But by your Voices, will not ſo permit me.

Your Voices therefore : when we granted that,
Here was, I thank you for your Voices, thank you

Your moſt ſweet Voices: now you have left your Voices
I have no further with you. Was not this mockery ?

Sicin. Why either were you ignorant to fee't ?
Or feeing it, of ſuch Childliſh friendlinels,
To yield your Voices?

*Bru.* Could you not have told him,
As you were Iſſon'd; When he had no Power,
But was a petty ſervant to the State,
He was your Enemy, ever ſpake againſt
Your Liberties, and the Charters that you bear
I' th'Body of the Weal : and now arriving
A place of Potency, and ſway o'th'State
If he ſhould till malignantly remain
Faſt Foe to th'Plebeij, your Voices might
Be Curſes to your ſelves. You should have faſd,
That as his worthy deeds did claim no leſs
Than what he ſlood for: ſo his gracious nature
Would think upon you, for your Voices, and
Translate his Maſice towards you, into Love,
Standing your friendly Lord.

*Sicin.* Thus to have faſd,

As you were ſore-advis'd, had toucht his Spirit,
And try'd his inclination : from him pluckt,
Either his gracious Promife, which you might
As cauſe had call'd you up, have held him to ;
Or eſſe it would have gall'd his ſurly nature ;
Which eafily endures not Article,
Tying him to ought, ſo putting him to Rage,
You ſhould have ta'n th'advantage of his Choler,
And pafs'd him unelected.

*Bru.* Did you perceive,
He did ſollicit you in free Contempt,
When he did need your Loves : and do you think,
That his Contempt ſhall not be bruſing to you,
When he hath power to crush ? Why, had your Bodies
No heart among you ? Or had you Tongues, to cry
Againſt the Reſtorſhip of judgement ?

*Sicin.* Have you, ere now, deny'd the asker :
And now again, of him that did not ask, but mock,
Beflow your ſu'd-for Tongues ?

3 Cit. He's not confirm'd, we may deny him yet.

2 Cit. And will deny him :
Ile have five hundred Voices of that found.

1 Cit. I twice five hundred, & their friends, to piece 'em.

*Bru.* Get you hence inſtantly, and tell theſe friends,
They have chofe a Conful, that will from them take
Their Liberties, make them of no more Voice
Than Doggs, that are as often beat for barking,
As therefore kept to do ſo.

*Sicin.* Let them ſassemble : and on a ſafer judgement,
All revoke your ignorant election : Enforce his Pride,
And his old Hate unto you : befides, forget not
With what Contempt he wore the humble Weed,
How in his Sure he ſcorn'd you: but your Loves,
Thinking upon his Services, took from you
Th'appreſheneſon of his preſent portance,
Which moſt gibingly, ungravely, he did ſaſbion
After the inveterate Hate he bears you.

*Bru.* Lay a fault on us, your Tribunes,
That we labour'd ( no impediment between )
But that you muſt caſt your Election on him.

*Sicin.* Say you chofe him, more after our commandment,
Than as guided by your own true affeſtions, and that
Your minds pre-occup'd with what you rather muſt do
Than what you ſhould, made you againſt the grain
To Voice him Conſul. Lay the fault on us.

*Brut.*

["603", "The Tragedy of Coriolanus.", "As for my Country, I have fled my blood,\nNot fearing outward force: So shall my Lungs\nCoin words till their decay, againſt those Meazels\nWhich we diſdain ſhould Tetter us, yet ſought\nThe very way to catch them.", "Bru. You ſpeak a'th'People, as if you were a god,\nTo puniſh; Not a man of their infirmity.", "Sicin. 'Twere well we let the People know't.", "Men. What, what ? his Choler ?", "Cor. Choler? Were I as patient as the midnight ſleep,\nBy Jove, 'twould be my mind.", "Sicin. It is a mind that ſhall remain a poſon\nWhere it is : not poſon any further.", "Corio. Shall remain ?", "Here you this Triton of the Minnows ? Mark you\nHis abſolute ſhall ?", "Com. 'Twas from the Cannon.", "Corio. Shall? O God ! but moſt unwife Patricians: why\nYou grave, but wreakleſs Senators, have you thus\nGiven Hidra here to choose an Officer,\nThat with his peremptory ſhall, being but", "The horn, and noife o'th'Monſters, wants not ſpirit\nTo ſay, he'l turn your Current in a ditch,\nAnd make your Chanel his? if he have power,", "Then vale your ignorance : if none, awake\nYour dangerous Lenity : if you are Learn'd,", "Be not as common Fools ; if you are not,", "Let them have Cufhions by you. You are Plebeians,\nIf they be Senators : and they are no leſs,\nWhen both your voices blended, the great'tt taſt\nMoſt pallats theirs. They chooſe their Magiſtrate,\nAnd ſuch a one as he, who puts his ſhall,", "His popular ſhall, againſt a graver Bench\nThan ever frown'd in Greece. By Jove himself,\nIt makes the Conſuls bafe; and my ſoul akes", "To know, when two Authorities are up,", "Neither Supreme, how ſoon conſuſion", "May enter twixt the gap of Both, and take\nThe one by th'other.", "Com. Well, on to th'Market place.", "Corio. Who ever gave that Counſel, to give forth\nThe Corn a'th'Store-houſe gratis, as 'twas us'd", "Sometime in Greece—", "Men. Well, well, no more of that.", "Cor. Though there the People had more abſolute power\nIf they nouriſt diſobedience ſed the ruine of the State.", "Bru. Why ſhall the People give", "One that ſpeaks thus, their voice ?", "Corio. Ile give my Reaſons,", "More worthy than their Voices. They know the Corn\nWas not our recompence, reſting well affur'd\nThey ne'r did ſervice for't; being preſt to th'VVarr,\nEven when the Navel of the State was touch'd,\nThey would not thred the Gates: This kind of ſervice\nDid not deferve Corn gratis. Being i'th'VVarr,\nTheir Mutinies and Revolts, wherein they ſhew'd\nMoſt Valour, ſpoke not for them. Th'Accuſation\nVWhich they have often made againſt the Senate,\nAll cauſe unborn, could never be the Native", "Did not deferve Corn gratis. Being i'th'VVarr,\nTheir Mutinies and Revolts, wherein they ſhew'd\nMoſt Valour, ſpoke not for them. Th'Accuſation\nVWhich they have often made againſt the Senate,\nAll cauſe unborn, could never be the Native\nOf our ſo frank Denotion. VVell, what then ?", "How ſhall this Boſome-multiplied, diſeſt\nThe Senates courteſe ? Let deeds expreſs\nVWhat's like to be their words. VVe did requeſt it,\nVVe are the greater pole, and in true fear\nThy gave us our demands. Thus we deſaſe\nThe Nature of our Seats, and make the Rabble", "Call our Cares, Fears ; which will in time\nBreak ope the Locks a'th'Senate, and bring in\nThe Crows to peck the Eagles.", "Men. Come enough.", "Bru. Enough, with over meaſure.", "Corio. No, take more.\nWhat may be ſworn by, both Divine and Humane,\nSeal what I end withal! This double worſhip,\nWhereon part does diſdain with cauſe, the other\nInſult without all leaſon; where Gentry, Title, wifdom,\nCannot conclude, but by the yea and no\nOf general ignorance, it muſt omit", "Of general ignorance, it muſt omit\nReal Neceſſities, and give way the while\nTo unſtable Slightneſs: Purpofe ſo barr'd, it follows,\nNothing is done to purpofe. Therefore beſeech you,\nYou that will be leſs fearful, than diſcreet,\nThat love the Fundamental part of State\nMore than you doubt the change of 't: that preferr\nA Noble life, before a Long, and Wifh,\nTo jump a Body with a dangerous Phyſick,\nThat's ſure of death without it: at once pluck out\nThe Multitudinous Tongue, let them not lick\nThe ſweet which is their poyſon. Your diſhonour\nMangles true judgement, and bereaves the State\nOf that Integrity which ſhould become't:\nNot having the power to do the good it would\nFor th'ill which doth controul't.", "Bru. Ha's faſd enough.", "Sicin. Ha's ſpoken like a Traitor, and ſhall anſwer\nAs Traitors do.", "Corio. Thou wretch, deſpight ore-whelm thee :\nWhat ſhould the people do with these bald Tribunes ?\nOn whom depending, their obediency fails", "To th' greater Bench, in a Rebellions :\nWhen what's not meet, but what muſt be, was Law,\nThen were they chofen : in a better hour,\nLet what is meet, be faſd it muſt be meet,\nAnd throw their power i'th' duſt.", "Bru. Maniſeſt treaſon.", "Sicin. This a Conſul ? No.", "Enter an Œdile.", "Bru. The Œdiles hoe; Let him be apprehended.", "Sicin. Go call the People, in whose name my ſelf\nAttach thee as a Traiterous Innovator :", "A Foe to th'publike Weal: Obey I charge thee,\nAnd follow to thine anſwer.", "Corio. Hence old Goat.", "All. We'l Surety him.", "Com. Ag'd fir, hands off.", "Corio. Hence rotten thing, or I ſhall ſhake thy bones\nOut of thy Garments.", "Sicin. Help me Citizens.", "Enter a rabble of Plebeians with the Œdiles.", "Men. On both fides more reſpect.", "Sicin. Here's he, that would take from you all your\npower.", "Bru. Seize him Œdiles.", "All. Down with him, down with him.", "2 Sena. Weapons, weapons, weapons :\nThey all buſtle about Coriolanus.", "Tribunes, Patricians, Citizens: what hoe :", "Sicinius, Brutus, Coriolanus, Citizens.", "All. Peace, peace, peace, ſtay, hold, peace.", "Men. What is about to be ? I am out of Breath,\nConſuſion's near, I cannot ſpeak. You Tribunes", "To th'People: Coriolanus, patience: ſpeak good Sicinius.\nSicin.", "Sicin.\nAll.", "Men.", "Men.", "Whom.", "Men.", "Men.", "Brutus.", "All.", "People.", "All.", "Men.", "Com.", "To bring", "And buſe", "In heaſt", "Sicin.", "Bru.", "Of let up", "Upon th", "We weſt", "Of preſu", "Sicin.", "For hi", "And hi", "And tem", "Thus viro", "Bru.", "That fee", "Where to", "And bea", "Corio.", "There's", "Come tr", "Men.", "While,", "Bru.", "Men.", " him you", "All.", "In", "Men.", "Men.", "Men.", "Men.", "Though i", {"bbox": [1087, 1346, 1118,

The Tragedy of Coriolanus.

606

Your Wife, your Son: these Senators, the Nobles,
And you, will rather fhow our general Lowes,
How you can frown, than Ipend a fawn upon 'em,
For the inheritance of their loves, and Safegard
Of what that want might ruine.

Men. Noble Lady,

Come go with us, I speak fair : you may falve so,
Not what is dangerous preſent, but the loſs
Of what is paſt.

Volum. I prithee now, my Son,

Go to them, with this Bonnet in thy hand,
And thus far having ftreatch it (here be with them)
Thy Knee buffing the ſtones : for in ſuch buſineſs
Action is eloquence, and the eyes of th'ignorant
More learned than the ears, waving thy head,
Which often thus correcting thy ſlout heart,
Now humble as the ripeſt Mulberry,

That will not hold the handling : or ſay to them,
Thou art their Souldier, and being bred in broyls
Haſt not the ſoft way, which thou doſt confefs
Were ſit for thee to uſe, as they to claim,
In asking their good loves, but thou wilt frame
Thy ſelf (for ſooth) hereafter theirs ſo farre,
As thou haſt power and perſon.

Men. This but done,

Even as ſhe ſpeaks, why their hearts were yours :
For they have Pardons, being ask'd, as free,
As words to little purpose.

Volum. Prithee now,
Go, and be rul'd: although I know thou hadſt rather
Follow thine Enemy in a fiery Gulf,
Than flatter him in a Bower.

Enter Cominius.

Here is Cominius.

Com. I have been i'th'Market place; and Sir 'tis fit
You make strong party, or defend your ſelf
By calmneſs, or by abſence : all's in anger.

Men. Only fair ſpeech.

Com. I think 'twill ſerve, if he can thereto frame his
ſpirit.

Volum. He muſt and will :

Prithee now ſay you will, and go about it.

Corio. Muſt I go ſhow them my unbarb'd Sconce?
Muſt I with my ſaſe Tongue give to my Noble heart
A Lye, that it muſt bear well ? I will do't :
Yet were there but this ſingle plot, to loſe
This Mould of Martius, they to duſt should grind it,
And throw't againſt the Wind. To th'Market place :
You have put me now to ſuch a part, which never
I ſhall diſcharge to th'Life.

Com. Come, come, we'll prompt you.

Volum. I prithee now ſweet Son, as thou haſt faſ
My praiſes made thee firſt a Souldier: to
To have my praeſe for this, perform a part
Thou haſt not done before.

Corio. Well, I muſt do't :

Away my diſpoſition, and poffeſs me
Some Harlots ſpirit: My throat of Warr be turn'd,
Which quier'd with my Drum into a Pipe,
Small as an Eunuch, or the Virgin voice
That Babies lull a-sleep: The ſmiles of Knares
Tent in my cheeks, and School-boyes Tears take up
The Glaſſes of my fight: A Beggers Tongue
Make motion through my Lips, and my Arm'd knees
Who bow'd but in my Stirrop, bend like his
That hath receiv'd an Almes. I will not do't,
Left I ſurceafe to honor mine own truth,

And by my bodies action, teach my Mind
A molt inherent Bafe neſſes,

Volum. At thy choice then :

To beg of thee, it is my more diſ-honor,
Than thou of them. Come all to ruine, let
Thy Mother rather feel thy Pride, than fear
Thy dangerous Stoutneſſs: for I mock at death
With as big heart as thou. Do as thou lift,
Thy Valiantneſſ was mine, thou ſuck't it from me :
But own thy Pride thy ſelf.

Corio. Pray be content:

Mother, I am going to the Market place :
Chide me no more. Ile Mountebank their Loves ;
Cogg their hearts from them, and come home belov'd
Of all the Trades in Rome. Look, I am going :
Commend me to my Wife, Ile return Conſul,
Or never truſt to what my Tongue can do
I' th' way of Flattery further.

Volum. Do your will.

Exeunt Volumina.

Com. Away, the Tribunes do attend you: arm your
To anſwer mildly: for they are prepar'd
With Accufations, as I hear more ſtrong
Than are upon you yet.

Corio. The word is, Mildly. Pray you let us go,
Let them accuſe me by invention : I
Will anſwer in mine Honor.

Men. I, but mildly.

Corio. Well mildly be it then, Mildly.

Exeunt.

Enter Sicinius and Brutus.

Bru. In this point charge him home, that he aſſects
Tyrannical power: if he evade us there,
Inſorce him with his envy to the people,
And that the Spoil got on the Antiats
Was ne'r diſtributed. What, will he come ?

Enter an Edile.

Edile. He's comming.

Bru. How accompanied ?

Edil. With old Menenius, and thofe Senators

That alwayse favour'd him.

Sicin. Have you a Catalogue

Of all the Voices that we have procur'd, let down by th'
Edil. I have: 'tis ready. ( Pole ?

Sicin. Have you collected them by Tribes ?

Edil. I have: 'tis ready.

Sicin. Aſſemble preſently the people hither :
And when they hear me ſay, it ſhall be ſo,
I' th' right and ſtrength a'th'Commons: be it either
For death, for fine, or Banifhment; then let them

If I ſay Fine, cry Fine; if Death, cry Death,
Inſtilling on the old prerogative

And power i'th'Truth a'th'Caufe.
Edil. I ſhall inſorm them.

Bru. And when ſuch time they have begun to cry,
Let them not ceaſe, but with a diu'n confus'd,

Inforce the preſent Execution
Of what we chance to Sentence.

Edil. Very well.

Sicin. Make them be ſtrong, and ready for this hint
When we ſhall hap to giv't them.

Bru. Go about it,

Put him to Choler ſtrait, he hath been us'd
Ever to conquer, and to have his worth
Of contradiction. Being once chaſt, he cannot
Be reign'd again to Temperance; then he ſpeaks

What's

The Tragedy of Coriolanus.

607

What's in his heart, and that is there which looks
With us to break his neck.

*Enter Coriolanus, Menenius, and Cominius, with others.*

*Sicin.* Well, here he comes.

*Men.* Calmly, I do befeech you,

*Corio.* I, as an Hoftler, that for the poorest piece
Will bear the Knave by th' Volume :
Th'honor'd gods

Keep Rome in safety, and the Chairs of justice
Supplied with worthy men, plant love amongst you,
Through our large Temples with the frowns of peace
And not our ftreets with Warr.

*1 Sen.* Amen, Amen.

*Men.* A Noble wifh.

*Enter the Edile with the Plebeians.*

*Sicin.* Draw near ye people.

*Edile.* Lift to your Tribunes. Audience;
Peace I fay.

*Corio.* First hear me speak.

*Both Tri.* Well, fay: Peace ho.

*Corio.* Shall I be charg'd no further than this prefent

Muft al'determine here?

*Sicin.* I do demand,

If you submit you to the peoples voices,
Allow their Officers, and are content

To suffer lawful Censure for such faults

As I shall be prov'd upon you.

*Corio.* I am content,

*Mene.* Lo Citizens, he fayes he is Content :

The warlike Service he ha's done, confider ; Think
Upon the wounds his body bears, which ſhew
Like Graves i'th' holy Church-yard.

*Corio.* Scratches with Briars, ſcarrs to move
Laughter only.

*Men.* Confider further :

That when he ſpeaks not like a Citizen,

You find him like a Souldier : do not take

His rougher Actions for malicious founds :

But as I fay, ſuch as become a Souldier,

Rather than envy you.

*Com.* Well, well, nomore.

*Corio.* What is the matter,

That being paſt for Conful with full voice :

I am ſo diſhonour'd, that the very hour

You take it off again ?

*Sici.* Anſwer to us.

*Corio.* Say then : 'tis true, I ought ſo.

*Sici.* We charge you, that you have contriv'd to take
From Rome all leaſon'd Office, and to wind

Your ſelf into a power tyrannical,

For which you are a Traitor to the people.

*Corio.* How ? Traitor ?

*Mene.* Nay temperately : your promife.

*Corio.* The fires i'th'loweſt hell, ſould in the people :
Call me their Traitor, thou injurious Tribune.

Within thine eyes fate twenty thouſand deaths,

In thy hands cluſt as many Millions, in

Thy lying tongue, both numbers, I would ſay

Thou lyeſt unto thee, with a voice as free,

As I do pray the gods.

*Sicin.* Mark you this people ?

*All.* To th'Rock with him.

*Sicin.* Peace:

We need not put new matter to his charge :

What you have seen him do, and heard him ſpeak,

Beating your Officers, curſing your ſelves,
Oppoſing Laws with ſtroaks, and here defying,
Thofe whole great power muſt try him,
Even this ſo criminal, and in ſuch capital kind,
Deferves th'extreameſt death.

*Bru.* But ſince he hath ſerv'd well for Rome—

*Corio.* What do you prate of Service?

*Bru.* I talk of that, that know it.

*Corio.* You ?

*Men.* Is this the promife that you made your mother?

*Com.* Know, I pray you.

*Corio.* Ile know no farther :

Let them pronounce the ſteep Tarpeian death,

Vagabond exile, Fleaing, pent to linger

But with a grain a day, I would not buy

Their mercy, at the price of one fair word,

Nor check my courage for what they can give,

To have't with ſaying, Good morrow.

*Sicin.* For that he ha's

( As much as in him lies ) from time to time

Envy'd againſt the people; ſeeking means

To pluck away their power: as now at laſt,

Given Hoftleſt ſtrokes, and that not in the preſence

Of dreaded justice, but on the Minifters

That do diſtribute it. In the name a'th'people,

And in the power of us the Tribunes, we

(Ev'n from this inſtant) baniſh him our City
In peril of precipitation

From off the Tarpeian, never more

To enter our Rome gates. I'th' peoples name,

I fay it ſhall be ſo.

*All.* It ſhall be ſo, it ſhall be ſo : let him away :

He's baniſh'd, and it ſhall be ſo.

*Com.* Hear me my Maſters, and my common friends.

*Sicin.* He's ſentenc'd: No more hearing.

*Com.* Let me ſpeak :

I have been Conful, and can ſhew from Rome

Her Enemies marks upon me. I do love

My Countries good, with a reſpect more tender,

More holy, and profound, than mine own life,

My dear Wives eſt mate, her wombs encreaſe,

And treaſure of my Loyns : then if I would

Speak that—

*Sicin.* We know your drift. Speak what ?

*Bru.* There's no more to be ſaid, but he is baniſh'd

As Enemy to the people, and his Country.

It ſhall be ſo.

*All.* It ſhall be ſo, it ſhall be ſo.

*Corio.* You common cry of Curs, wholeſe breath I hate,
As reek a'th'rotten Fenns : wholeſe Loves I prize,

As the dead Carkasses of unburied men,

That do corrupt my Air: I baniſh you,

And here remain with your uncertainty.

Let every feeble Rumor ſhake your hearts :

Your Enemies, with nodding of their Plumes

Fan you into defpair : Have the power ſtill

To baniſh your Defenders, till at length

Your ignorance ( which finds not till it feels,

Making but reſervation of your ſelves,

Still your own Foes ) deliver you

As moſt abated Captives, to ſome Nation

That won you without blows, deſpising

For you the City. Thus I turn my back ;

There is a world eſtwhere.

*Exeunt Coriolanus, Cominius, Cum alii,
They all ſhowt, and throw up their Caps.*

*Edile*

The Tragedy of Coriolanus.

609

Edile. The peoples Enemy is gone, is gone.
All. Our Enemy is binif'd, he is gone. Hoo hoo.
Sicin. Go fce him out at Gates, and follow him
As he hath follow'd you, with all despight,
Give him deferv'd vexation. Let a guard
Attend us through the City.
All. Come, come, let's see him out at the gates, come.
The gods preserve our Noble Tribunes, come. Exeunt.

Actus Quartus

Enter Coriolanus, Volumnia, Virgilia, Menenius, Cominius, with the young Nobility of Rome.

Corio. Come leave your tears: a brief farewell: the beaſt
VWith many heads butts me away. Nay Mother,
VWhere is your antient Courage ? You were us'd
To ſay, Extremity was the trier of ſpirits,
That common chances, common men could bear,
That when the S3a was calm, all Boats alike
Shew'd Maſterſhip in floating. Fortunes blows,
When moſt ftook home, being gentle wounded, craves
ANoble cunning. You were us'd to load me
VWith precepts that would make invincible
The heart that conn'd them.

Virg. Oh heavens! O heavens!

Corio. Nay, I prithee woman.

Vol. Now the Red Peſtience ſtrike all Trades in Rome,
And Occupations perſih.

Corio. VVhat, what, what :

I ſhall be Iov'd, when I am lack'd. Nay Mother,
Reſume that ſpirit, when you were want ſo ſay,
If you had been the VVife of Hercules,
Six of his Labours youl'd have done, and fav'd
Your husband ſo much ſweat. Cominius,
Droop not, Adieu : Farewel my VVife, my Mother,
Ile do well yet. Thou old and true Menenius,
Thy tears are falter than a younger mans,
And venemous to thine eyes, My (fometime) General,
I have feen thee Stern, and thou haſt oft beheld
Heart-hardning ſpectacles. Tell theſe ſad women,
Tis ſond to wail inevitable ſtrokes,
As 'tis to laugh at 'em. My Mother, you wot well
My hazards ſtill have been your ſolace, and
Believ't not lightly, though I go alone
Like to a lonely Dragon, that his Fen
Makes fear'd, and talk'd of more than ſeen : your Son
VVill or exceed the Common, or be caught
VWith cautelous baits and practice.

Volum. My firſt Son,

VWhether will you go? Take good Cominius

VWith thee a while; determine on ſome course

More than a wild expofure, to each chance

That starts i'th'way before thee.

Corio. O the gods !

Com. Ile follow thee a Month, devife with thee
Where thou ſhalt reſt, that thou may't ſt hear of us,
And we of thee. So if the time thraſt forth
A cauſe for thy Repeal, we ſhall not ſend
O're the vaſt world, to ſee a ſingle man,
And loſe advantage, which doth ever cool
I'th'abſence of the needer.

Corio. Fare ye well :

Thou haſt years upon thee, and thou art too full

Of the warrs ſurſets, to go rove with one
That's yet unbruſ'd: to bring me but out at gate.
Come my ſweet VVife, my deareſt Mother, and
My Friends of Noble touch: when I am forth,
Bid me ſarewel, and ſmile. I pray you come:
VWhile I remain above the ground, you ſhall
Hear from me ſtill, and never of me ought
But what is like me formerly.

Men. That's worthily

As any ear can hear. Come, let's not weep,

If I could ſhake off but one ſeven years

From theſe old arms and legs, by the good gods

I'd with thee every foot.

Corio. Give me thy hand, come.

Exeunt.

Enter the two Tribunes, Sicinius, and Brutus,
with the Edile.

Sicin. Bid them all home, he's gone: and we'll no further,
The Nobility are vexed, whom we fee have fided
In his behalf.

Bru. Now we have ſhewn our power,

Let us ſeem humbler after it is done,

Than when it was a doing.

Sicin. Bid them home, ſay their great enemy is gone,
And they, ſtand in their antient ſtrength.

Bru. Difmiſs them home. Here comes his Mother.

Enter Volumnia, Virgilia, and Menenius.

Sicin. Let's not meet her.

Bru. VVhy ?

Sicin. They ſay ſhe's mad.

Bru. They have ta'ne note of us: keep on your way.

Volum. Oh y're are well met :

Th'hoorded plague a'th'gods requite your love,

Menen. Peace, peace, be not ſo loud.

Volum. If that I could for weeping, you ſhould hear,
Nay, and you ſhall hear ſome. VVill you be gone ?

Virg. You ſhall ſay too: I would I had the power

To ſay ſo to my Husband.

Sicin. Are you mankind ?

Volum. I ſool, is that a ſbame? Note but this ſool,
VAs not a man my Father? Had'nt thou Foxſhip
To baniſh him that ſtrock more blows for Rome
Than thou haſt ſpoken words.

Sicin. Oh bleſſed Heavens !

Vol. More Noble blows, than ever thou wife words.
And for Romes good Ile tell thee what ; yet go :
Nay but thou ſhalt ſay too: I would my Son
Vere in Arabia, and thy Tribe before him,
His good Sword in his hand.

Sicin. VVhat then ?

Virg. VVhat then? He'ld make an end of thy poſterity.

Volum. Biaſtards, and all.

Good man, the wounds that he do's bear for Rome !

Menen. Come, come, peace.

Sicin. I would he had continued to his Country
As he began, and not unknit himſelf

The noble knot he made.

Bru. I would he had.

Vol. I would he had: 'Twas you incens'd the rabble.
Cats, that can judge as fitly of his worth,
As I can of thofe Mysteries which heaven
VVill not have earth to know.

Bru. Pray let's go.

Volum. Now pray fir get you gone.

You have done a brave deed : Ere you go, hear this :

As far as doth the Capitol exceed

The meaneſt houſe in Rome; ſo far my Son

Fff

This

The Tragedy of Coriolanus.

611

tion here's no place for you, pray you avoid : Come.

*Corio.* Follow your Function, go, and batten on cold bits.
*Pushes him away from him.*

3. What you will not? Prithée tell my Maſter, what a
strange Gueſt he has here.

2. And I ſhall.

*Exit second Servingman.*

3. Where dwell'ft thou ?

*Corio.* Under the Canopy.

3. Under the Canopy ?

*Corio.* I.

2. Where's that ?

*Corio.* I'ch't City of Kites and Crows.

3. I'ch't City of Kites and Crows. What an Aſs it is,
then thou dwell'ſt with Daws too ?

*Corio.* No, I ſerve not thy Maſter.

3. How fir? Do you meddle with my Maſter ?

*Corio.* I, 'tis an honeſter ſervce, than to meddle with
thy Miftris : Thou prat'ſt, and prat'ſt, ſerve with thy
trencher : Hence.
*Beats him away.*

*Enter Auffid us with a Servingman.*

*Auf.* Where is this Fellow ?

2. Here fir, I'd have beaten him like a dog, but for
difburbing the Lords within.
name?

*Auf.* Whence com'ſt thou? What would'ſt thou ? Thy
Why ſpeak'ſt not? Speak man: what's thy name ?

*Corio.* If Tullus not yet thou know'ſt me, and feeing
me, doſt not think me for the man I am, neceſſity com-
mands me name my ſelf.

*Auf.* What is thy name ?

*Corio.* A name unmuſical to the Volcears ears,
And harin in found to thine.

*Auf.* Say, what's thy name ?

Thou haſt a Grim appearance, and thy Face
Bears a Command in't : Though thy Tackles torn,
Thou ſhew't a noble Veſſel. What's thy name?

*Corio.* Prepare thy brow to frown: know'ſt thou me yet?

*Auf.* I know thee not; thy Name ?

*Corio.* My name is Caius Martius, who hath done

To thee particularly, and to all the Volcies
Great hurt and Mifchiet: thereto witneſs may
My Surname Coriolanus. The painful Service,
The extreme Dangers, and the drops of Blood
Shed for thy thankles Country are Requited :
But with that Surname, a good memory
And witneſs of the Malice and Difpleasure
Which thou could'ſt bear me, only that name remains.

The Cruelty and Envy of the people,
Permitted by our daſtard Nobles, who
Have all forſook me, hath devour'd the reſt :
And ſuffer'd me by th' voice of Slaves to be
Hoop'd out of Rome. Now this extremity,
Hath brought me to thy Harth, not out of hope
(Miſtake me not) to ſave my life: for if
I had fear'd death, of all the Men i'ch't world
I would have voided thee. But in meer ſpight
To be full quit of those my baniſhers,
Stand I before thee here: Then if thou haſt
A heart of wreak in thee, that wilt revenge
Thine own particular wrongs, and ſtop those maims
Of ſhame ſeen through thy Country, ſpeed thee ſtraight
And make my miſery ſerve thy turn: So uſe it,
That my revengeful Services may prove
As benefits to thee. For I will fight
Against my Cankred Country, with the ſpleen
Of all the under Fiends. But if so be,
Thou dar'ſt not this, and that to prove more Fortunes

Th'are tyr'd, then in a word, I alio am
Longer to live moſt weary: and preſent
My throat to thee, and to thy Antient Malice:

Which not to cut, would ſhow thee but a Fool,
Since I have ever followed thee with hate,
Drayn Tunns of Blood out of thy Countries breſt,
And cannot live but to thy ſhame, unleſſ
It be to do thee ſervice.

*Auf.* Oh Martius, Martius,

Each word thou haſt ſpoke, hath weeded from my heart
A root of Antient Envy. If Jupiter

Should from yon Clowd ſpeak divine things,
And ſay 'tis true: I'd not believe them more

Than thee all-Noble Martius. Let me twine
Mine arms about that body, where againſt

My grained Aſh an hundred times hath broke,
And ſcair'd the Moon with ſplinters: here I cleep
The Anvile of my Sword, and do contéſt

As hotly and as nobly with thy Love,
As ever in Ambitious ſtrength, I did

Contend againſt thy Vafour. Know thou firſt,

I lov'd the Maid I married: never man

Sigh'd truer breath. But that I fee thee here

Thou Noble thing, more dances my rapt heart,
Than when I firſt my wedded Miftris ſaw

Befrid my Threshold. Why, thou Mars I tell thee,

We have a Power on foot: and I had purpofe

Once more to hew thy Target from thy Brawn,

Or loſe mine Arm for't: Thou haſt beat me out

Twelve ſeveral times, and I have nightly ſince

Dreamt of encounters 'twixt thy ſelf and me:

We have been down together in my ſleep,

Unbuckling Helms, fitting each others Throat,

And wak'd half dead with nothing. Worthy Martius

Had we no quarrel eſſe to Rome, but that

Thou art thence baniſh'd, we would muſter all

From twelve to ſeventy: And powring Warr

Into the bowels of ungratefull Rome,

Like a bold Flood o're-beat. Oh come, go in,

And take our Friendly Senators by'th' hands

Who now are here, taking their leaves of me,

Who am prepar'd againſt your Territories,

Though not for Rome it ſelf.

*Corio.* You bleſſ me Gods.

*Auf.* Therefore moſt absolute Sir, if thou wilt have
The leading of thine own revenges, take
Th'one half of my Commiffion, and fet down
As beſt thou art experienc'd, ſince thou know'ſt
Thy Countries ſtrength and weakneſs, thine own waies
Whether to knock againſt the Gares of Rome,

Or rudely visit them in parts remote,
To fright them, ere deſtroy. But come in,

Let me comment thee firſt, to thofe that ſhall

Say yea to thy deſires. A thouſand welcomes,

And more a friend, than ere an Enemie,

Yet Martius that was much. Your hand:moſt welcome.

*Excunt.*

*Enter two of the Servingmen.*

1 Here's a ſtrange alteration.

2 By my hand, I had thought to have ſtrucken him
with a Cudgel, and yet my mind gave me, his cloaths
made a falſe report of him.

3 What an Arm he has, he turn'd me about with his
finger, and his thumb, as one would fet up a Top.

4 Nay, I knew by his face that there was ſomething
in him. He had fir, a kind of face me thought. I cannot

F f 2

tell

The Tragedy of Coriolanus.

613

And durst not once peep out.

*Sicin.* Come, what talk you of *Martius*?

*Bru.* Go fee this Rumorer whipt, it cannot be,
The Volcies dare break with us.

*Men.* Cannot be ?

We have record, that very well it can,
And three examples of the like hath been
Within my Age. But reafon with the fellow
Before you punifh him, where he heard this,
Left you shall chance to whip your Information,
And beat the Meffenger, who bids beware
Of what is to be dreaded.

*Sicin.* Tell not me : I know this cannot be.

*Bru.* Not poſſible.

*Enter a Meſſenger.*

*Mef.* The Nobles in great earneſtneſs are going
All to the Senate-houſe: fome news is comming
That turns their Countenances.

*Sicin.* 'Tis this Slave :

Gowhrip him 'fore the peoples eyes : His raſing,
Nothing but his report.

*Mef.* Yes worthy Sir,

The Slives report is ſaſoned, and more,

More ſeruſt is deliver'd.

*Sicin.* What more ſeafuſt ?

*Mef.* It is ſpoke freely out of many mouths,

How probable I do not know, that *Martius*

Joyn'd with *Auffidius*, leads a power 'gainſt Rome,
And vows Revenge as ſpacious, as between

The young'ft and oldeſt thing.

*Sicin.* This is moſt likely.

*Bru.* Rais'd only, that the weaker ſon may with

Good *Martius* home again.

*Sicin.* The very trick on't.

*Men.* This is unlikely,

He, and *Auffidius* can no more attone

Than violent'ſt Contrariety.

*Enter a Meſſenger.*

*Mef.* You are ſent for to the Senate :

A ſeafuſt Army, led by *Cains* *Martius*,
Affociated with *Auffidius*'s Rages

Upon our Territories, and have already

O're-born their way, confuſd with ſire, and took
What lay before them.

*Enter Cominius.*

*Com.* Oh you have made good work.

*Men.* What news? What news?

*Com.* You have holt to ravifh your own daughters, and
To melt the City Leads upon your pates,
To fee your Wives diſhonour'd to your Nofes.

*Men.* What's the news? What's the news ?

*Com.* Your Temples burned in their Ciment, and

Your Franchiſes, whereon you flood, confin'd
Into an Augors boar.

*Men.* Pray now the news ?

You have made fair work I fear me : pray your news?

If *Martius* ſhould be joyn'd with Volcians.

*Com.* If? He is their God, he leads them like a thing
Made by ſome other Deity than Nature,

That ſhapes man Better : and they follow him

A gainſt us Brats, with no leſs Confidence,

Than Boyes perfuſing Summer Butter-flies,
Or Butchers killing flyes.

*Men.* You have made good work,

You and your Apron men : you, that flood ſo much
Upon the voice of occupation, and

The breath of Garlike-eſters.

*Com.* He'll ſhake your Rome about your ears.

*Men.* As *Hercules* did ſhake down Mellow Fruit :

You have made fair work.

*Bru.* But is this true fir ?

*Com.* I, and you'll look pale

Before you find it other. All the Regions

Do smilingly revolt, and who reſtſs

Are mock'd for valiant Ignorance,

And perſih conſant fools : who is't can blame him ?

Your Enemies and his, find ſomething in him.

*Men.* We are all undone, unleſſs

The Noble man have mercy.

*Com.* Who ſhall ask it ?

The Tribunes cannot do't for ſhame ; the people

Deſerve ſuch pitty of him, as the Wolf

Do's of the Shepherds ; For his beſt friends if they

Should ſay be good to Rome, they charg'd him even
As that ſhould do that had deſerv'd his hate,

And therein ſhew'd like Enemies.

*Me.* 'Tis true, if he were putting to my houſe, the brand
That should conſume it, I have not the face

To ſay, beſeech you ceſſe. You have made fair hands,

You and your Crafts, you have crafted fair.

*Com.* You have brought

A Trembling upon Rome, ſuch as was never

S'incapable of help.

*Tri.* Say not, we brought it.

*Men.* How ? Was't we ? We lov'd him,
But like beaſts, and Cowardly Nobles,

Gave way unto your Cluſters, who did hoot

Him out o'th'City.

*Com.* But I fear

They'll roar him in again. *Tullus Auffidius*,

The ſecond name of men, obeys his points

As if he were his Officer : Deſparation,

Is all the policy, Strength, and Deſence

That Rome can make againſt them.

*Enter a Troop of Citizens.*

*Men.* Here come the Cluſters.

And is *Auffidius* with him ? You are they

That made the Ayr unwholſome, when you caſt

Your ſtinking, greaſie Caps, in hooting

At *Coriolanus* Exile. How he's comming,

And not a hair upon a ſouldiers head

Which will not prove a whip : As many Coxcombes

As you threw Caps up, will he tumble down,

And pay you for your voices. 'Tis no matter,

If he could burn us all into one coal,

We have deſerv'd it.

*Omnes.* Faith, we hear ſeafuſt News.

*I.* For mine own part,

When I faſt banifh him, I faſt twas pitty.

*2.* And ſo did I.

*3.* And ſo did I; and to ſay the truth, ſo did very ma-
ny of us, that we did, we did for the beſt: and though we
willingly conſented to his Banifhment, yet it was againſt
our will.

*Com.* You are goodly things, you Voices,

*Men.* You have made you good work

You and your cry. Shall's to the Capitol ?

*Com.* Oh I, what eſſe ?

*Exeunt both.*

*Sicin.* Go Maſters get you home, be not diſmaid,

Theſe are a Side, that would be glad to have

This true, which they ſo ſeem to ſear. Go home,

And ſhew no ſign of Fear.

F f f 3

*I.* Cit.

The Tragedy of Coriolanus.

615

He was not taken well, he had not din'd,
The Veins unfill'd, our blood is cold, and then
We powt upon the Morning, are unapt
To give or to forgive; but when we have ftufft
These Pipes, and these Conveyances of our blood
With Wine and feeding, we have fuppler Souls
Than in our Prieft-like Pafts : therefore Ile watch him
Till he be dieted to my requeft,
And then Ile fet upon him.

Bru. You know the very rodes into his kindneſs,
And cannot lobe your way.

Men. Good faith He prove him,
Speed how it will. I ſaſt ere long have knowledge
Of my ſucceſſes.
Exit.

Com. He'l never hear him.

Sicin. Not?

Com. I tell you, he do's fit in Gold, his eye
Red as 'twould burn Rome : and his Injury
The Gaoler to his pitty. I kneel'd before him,
'Twas very faintly he faid Rife : diſmift me
Thus with his ſpeechlets hind. What he would do
He ſent in writing after me: what he would not,
Bound with an Oath to yield to his conditions:
So that all hope is vain, unleſs his Noble Mother,
And his Wife (who as I hear) mean to folicite him
For mercy to his Country: therefore let's hence,
And with our fair intreaties haſt them on.
Exeunt.

Enter Menenius to the Watch or Guard.

1. Wat. Stay : whence are you ?

2. Wat. Stand, and go back.

Men. You guard like men, 'tis well. But by your leave
I am an Officer of State, & come to ſpeak with Coriolanus.

1. From whence ?

Men. From Rome.

1. You may not paſſ, you muſt return : our General
will no more hear from thence.

2. You'l fee your Rome embrac'd with fire, before
You'l ſpeak with Coriolanus.

Men. Good my Friends,

If you have heard your General talk of Rome,
And of his Friends there, it is Lots to Blanks,
My name hath toucht your ears : it is Menenius.

1. Be it ſo, go back : the virtue of your name,
Is not here paſſable.

Men. I tell the Fellow,

Thy General is my Lover : I have been
The book of his good Aſts, whence men have read
His Fame unparallel'd, happily amplified :
For I have ever verified my Friends,
(Of whom he's chief) with all the ſize that verity
Would without lapſing ſuffer: Nay, ſometimes,
Like to a Bowl upon a ſubtil ground

Like to a Bowl upon a ſubtil ground
I have tumbled paſſ the throw : and in his præife
Have (almoſt) ſtampt the Leafing. Therefore Fellow,
I muſt have leave to paſſ.

1. Faith Sir, if you had told as many lyes in his behalf,
as you have uttered words in your own, you ſhould not
paſſ here: no, though it were as virtuous to lye, as to
live chaſtly. Therefore go back.

Men. Prithee fellow, remember my name is Menenius,
always faſcionary on the party of your General.

2. How ſoever you have been his Lyar, as you ſay you
have, I am one that telling true under him, muſt you
cannot paſſ. Therefore go back.

Men. Ha's he din'd can't thou tell? For I would not
ſpeak with him, till after dinner.

1. You are a Roman, are you ?

Men. I am as thy General is.

1. Then you ſhould hate Rome, as he do's. Can you,
when you have pufſt out your gates, the very Defender
of them, and in a violent popular ignorance, given your
enemy your ſhield, think to front his revenges, with the
eaſe groans of old women, the Virginal palms of your
daughters, or with the palſed interceſſion of ſuch a de-
cay'd Dotant as you ſeem to be ? Can you think to blow
out the intended fire, your City is ready to flame in, with
fuch weak breath as this? No, you are deceiv'd, therefore
back to Rome, and prepare for your execution: you are
condemn'd, our General has ſworn you out of reprieve
and pardon.

Men. Sirra, if the Captain knew I were here,
He would uſe me with eſtimation.

1. Come, my Captain knows you not.

Men. I mean thy General.

1. My General cares not for you. Back I ſay, go: left
I let forth your half pint of blood. Back, that's the ut-
moft of your having, back.

Men. Nay but Fellow, Fellow.

Enter Coriolanus with Auffidius.

Corio. What's the matter ?

Men. Now you Companion, Ile ſay an arrant for you:
you ſhall know now that I am in eſtimation: you ſhall
perceive, that a Jack gardant cannot office me from my
Son Coriolanus, gueſs but my entertainment with him;ſt
thou ſtand'ft not i'th'State of hanging, or of ſome death
more long in Spectatorſhip, and crueller in ſuffering, be-
hold now prefently, and ſwoond for what's to come upon
thee. The glorious Gods fit in hourly Synod about thy
particular prosperity, and love thee no wofe than thy old
Father Menenius do's. O my Son, my Son ! thou art pre-
paring fire for us: look thee, here's water to quench it.
I was hardly moved to come to thee: but being auſſured
none but my ſelf could move thee, I have been blown
out of your Gates with ſights: and conjure thee to par-
don Rome, and thy petitionary Countrymen. The good
Gods aſſwage thy wrath, and turn the dregs of it, upon
this Varlet here: This, who like a block hath denied
my acceds to thee.

Corio. Away.

Men. How? Away ?

Corio. Wife, Mother, Child, I know not. My affairs
Are ſervanted to others: Though I owe
My revenge properly, my remission lies
In Volcean breſts. That we have been familiar,
Ingrate forgetfulneſs ſhall poſſon rather

Than pitty: Note how much, therefore be gone.
Mine ears againſt your ſutes, are ſtronger than
Your gates againſt my force. Yet for I loved thee,
Take this along, I writ it for thy ſake,

And would have ſent it. Another word Menenius,
I will not hear thee ſpeak. This man Auffidius
Was my beloved in Rome: yet thou beholder it—

Auf. You keep a conſtant temper.

Exeunt.

Manent the Guard and Menenius

1. Now fir, is your name Menenius ?

2. 'Tis a ſpell you fee of much power :
You know the way home again.

1. Do you hear how we are ſent for keeping your
greatneſs back ?

2. What cauſe do you think you have to ſwoond ?

Men. I neither care for th' world, nor your General :
for ſuch things as you, I can ſcarrce think their any,
y'are
ſo flight. He that hath a will to dye by himself, ſears it
not

The Tragedy of Coriolanus.

not from another: Let your General do his work. For
you, be that you are, long; and your mifery encreafe
with your age. I fay to you, as I was faid to, Away. Exit.

1. A Noble Fellow I warrant him.

2 The worthy Fellow is our General. He's the Rock,
The Oak not to be winde-flaken. Exit Watch.

Enter Coriolanus and Auffidius.

Corio. We will before the walls of Rome to morrow
Set down our Hoaft. My partner in this Action
You muft report to th' Volcian Lords, how plainly
I have born this Bufinefs.

Anf. Only their ends you have reſpected.
Stopt your ears againſt the general ſute of Rome :
Never admitted a privat whiſper, no not with ſuch friends
That thought them ſure of you.

Corio. This laſt old man,
Whom with a crack'd heart I have ſent to Rome,
Lov'd me, above the meaſure of a Father,
Nay godded me indeed. Their lateſt refuge,
Was to fend him for whoſe old love I have
(Though I ſhew'd ſowrly to him) once more offer'd
The firſt Conditions which they did reſufe,
And cannot now accept, to grace him only,
That thought he could do more: A very little
I have yeended to, Freth Embaſſes, and Sutes,
Nor from the State, nor private friends hereafter
Will I lend ear to. Ha ? what ſhout is this? Shout within
Shall I be tempted to infringe my vow
In the fame time? tis made ? I will not.

Enter Virgilia, Volumnia, Valeria, yong Matius;
with Attendauts.

My wife comes forſort, then the honour'd mould
Wherein this trunk was fram'd, and in her hand
The Grandchilde to her blood. But our affection,
All bond and privilege of nature break;
Let it be Virtuous to be Obſtinate.
What is that Curt'ie worth ? Or thateſe Doves eyes,
Which can make Gods forſworn ? I melt, and am not
Of ſtronger earth than others : my Mother bows,
As if Olympus to a Mole-hill ſhould
In fupplication Nod: and my young Boy
Hath an alpeſt of interceſſion, which
Great Nature cries, Deny not. Let the Volcies
Plough Rome, and harrow Italy, Ile never
Be ſuch a Goſling to obey inſinuat : but ſtand
As if a man were Author of himſelf, & knew no other kin.

Virgil. My Lord and Husband.

Corio. Theſe eyes are not the fame I wore in Rome.

Virg. The forrow that delivers us thus chang'd

Makes you think ſo.

Corio. Like a dull Aſtor now, I have forgot my part,
And I am out, even to a full Difgrace. Beſt of my Fleſh,
Forgive my Tyranny : but do not ſay,
For that forgive our Romans. O a kifs
Long as my Exile, ſweet as my Revenge !
Now by the jealous Queen of Heaven, that kifs
I carried from thee dear ; and my true Lip
Hath Virgin'd it ere ſince. You Gods, I pray,
And the moſt Noble Mother of the world
Leave unſaluted: Sink my knee in the earth :
Of thy deep duty, more impreſſion ſhew
Than that of common Sons.

Kneels.

Volum. Oh ſtand up bleſt !

Whil't with no ſofter Cufhion than the Flint
I kneel before thee, and unproperly
Shew duty as miſtaken, all this while,

Between the Child, and Parent.

Corio. What's this? your knees to me ?

To your Corrected Son ?

Then let the Pibbles on the hungry beach
Fillop the Starrs: Then, let the mutinous winds
Strike the proud Cedars 'againſt the fiery Sun :
Murding impoffibility, to make
What cannot be, flight work.

Volum. Thou art my Warriour, I hope to frame thee,
Do you know this Lady ?

Corio. The Noble Sifter of Publicola ;

The Moon of Rome : Chaſt as the Iſicle
That's curdied by the Froſt, from pureſt Snow,
And hangs on Dians Temple : Dear Valeria.

Volum. This is a poor Epitome of yours,
Which by ch'interpretation of full time,
May ſhow like all your ſelf.

Corio. The God of Souldiers,
With the conſent of ſupreme Jove, inform
Thy thoughts with Noblenefs, that thou maiſt prove
To ſhame unvulnerable, and ſtrike i'th'Warrs
Like a great Sea-mark standing every flaw,
And faving thate that eye thoe.

Volum. Your knee, Sirrah.

Corio. That's my brave boy.

Volum. Even he, your wife, this Lady, and my ſelf,
Are Suters to you.

Corio. I beſeech you peace :
Or if you ask, remember this before ;
The thing I have forſworn to grant, may never
Be held by your denials. Do not bid me
Difmiſs my Souldiers, or capitulate
Again with Romes Mechanicks. Tell me not
Wherein I feel unnatural: Deſire not t'allay
My Rages and Revenges, with your colder reaſons.

Volum. Oh no more, no more :
You have faſd you will not grant us any thing :
For we have nothing eſſe to ask, but that
Which you deny already : yet we will ask,
That if you fail in our requeſt, the blame
May hang upon your hardneſs, therefore hear us.

Corio. Auffidius, and you Volcies, mark, for we'l
Hear nought from Rome in private. Your requeſt ?
Volum. Should we be ſilent & not ſpeak, our Raiment
And rate of Bodies would bewray what life
We have led ſince thy Exile. Think with thy ſelf,
How more unfortunate than living women
Are we come hither ; ſince that thy fight, which ſhould
Make our eyes flow with joy: hearts dance with comforts,
Conſtrains them weep, and ſhake with fear and forrow,
Making the Mother, Wife, and Child to ſee,
The Son, the Husband, and the Father tearing
His Countries Bowels out : and to poor we
Thine enmities moſt capital: Thou barr't us
Our prayers to the Gods, which is a comfort
That all but we enjoy. For how can we ?
Alas ! how can we, for our Country pray ?
Whereeto we are bound, together with thy victory,
Whereeto we are bound: Alack, or we muſt loſe
The Country our dear Nurſe, or eſſe thy perſon
Our comfort in the Country. We muſt find
An evident Calamity, though we had
Our wifh, which ſide ſhould win. For either thou
Muſt as a Forein Recreant be led
With Manacles through our freſtres, or eſſe
Triumphantly tread on thy Countries ruine,

And

618

The Tragedy of Coriolanus.

Mef. Sir, if you'd fave your life flye to your Houſe,
The Plebeians have got your Fellow Tribune,
And hale him up and down; all ſwearing, if
The Roman Ladies bring not comfort home,
They'l give him death by Inches.

Enter another Messenger.

Sicin. What's the News? (prevayl'd,

Mef. Good News, good news, the Ladies have

The Volcians are diſlodg'd, and Martius gone:

A merrier day did never yet greet Rome,

No, not th' expulsion of the Tarquins.

Sicin. Friend, art thou certain this is true?

Is't moſt certain?

Mef. As certain as I know the Sun is fire:

Where have you lurk'd that you make doubt of it?

Ne're through an Arch so hurried the blown Tide

As the comforted through th' gates. Why heark you ?

Trumpets, Hoboyes, Drums beat, altogether.

The Trumpets, Sack-buts, Pſalteries, and Fifes,
Tabors, and Cymboles, and the ſhowting Romans,

Make the Sun dance. Heark you.

A ſpout within.

Mene. This is good News :

I will go meet the Ladies. This Volumnia,

Is worth of Conſuls, Senators, Patricians,

A City full: Of Tribunes such as you,

A Sea and Land full: you have pray'd well to day:

This Morning, for ten thouſand of your throats,

I'de not have given a doit. Heark, how they joy.

Sound still with the Shouts.

Sicin. First, the Gods bleſſ you for your tydings:

Next, accept my thankeſtulneſs.

Mef. Sir, we have all great cauſe to give great thanks.

Sicin. They are neer the City?

Mef. Almoſt at point to enter.

Sicin. Wee'l meet them and help the joy. Exeunt.

Enter two Senators, with Ladies, paſſing over
the Stage, with other Lords.

Sena. Behold our Patronneſs, the life of Rome :

Call all your Tribes together, praeſe the Gods,

And make triumphant fires, ſtrow Flowers before them:

Vnſhoot the noſe that baniſh'd Martius;

Repeal him, with the welcome of his Mother :

Cry welcome Ladies, welcome.

All. Welcome Ladies, welcome.

Exeunt.

A Flourish with Drums & Trumpets.

Enter Tullus Anſſidius, with Attendants.

Auf. Go tell the Lords a'th' City, I am here:

Deliver them this Paper : having read it,

Bid them repair to th' Market place, Where I

Even in theirs, and in the Commons ears,

Will vouch the truth of it. Him I accuſe;

The City Ports by this hath enter'd, and

Intends t'appear before the People, hoping

To purge himſelf with words. Difpatch.

Enter 3 or 4 Conſpirators of Anſſidius Faſſion.

Moft Welcome.

1. Con. How is it with our General?

Auf. Even ſo, as with a man by his own Alms im-
ploy ſon'd, and with his Charity ſlain.

2 Con. Moſt Noble Sir, If you do hold the fame intent
Wherein you wíſht us parties: Wee'l deliver you
Of your great danger.

Auf. Sir I cannot tell,

We muſt proceed as we do finde the People.

3. Con. The people will remain uncertain, whil't
Twixt you there's difference: but the fall of either

Makes the Survivor heſt of all.

Auf. I know it:

And my pretext to ſtrike at him, admits

A good conſtruction. I rais'd him, and I pawn'd

Mine Honor for his truth: who being ſo heighten'd,
He watered his new Plants with dews of Flatterie,

Seducing ſo my Friends: and to this end,

He bowd his Nature, never known before,

But to be rough, unſwayable, and free.

3. Conſp. Sir, his ſloutneſs

When he did ſtand for Conſul, which he loft

By lack of ſtooping.

Auf. That I would have ſpoke of :

Being baniſh'd for't, he came unto my Harth,

Prefented to my knife his Throat: I took him,

Made him joynt-fervant with me: Gave him way

In all his owne desires: Nay, let him choose

Out of my Files, his projects to accompliſh,

My beſt and freſhſeſt men, ſervd his deſignements

In mine own perſon: hope to reap the Fame

Which he did end all his; and took ſome pride

To do my ſelf this wrong; Till at the laſt

I ſeem'd his Follower, nor Partner; and

He wag'd me with his Countenance, as if

I had been Mercenary.

1. Con. So he did my Lord :

The Army marveyed at it, and in the laſt

When he had carried Rome, and that we look'd

For no leſs Spoil, than Glory—

Auf. There was it:

For which my finewes ſhall be ſtretcſt upon him,

At a few drops of Womens ſhewm, which are

As cheap as Lies; he fold the Blood and Labour

Of our great Action; therefore ſhall he dye,

And Ile renew me in his fall. But heark.

Drums and Trumpets ſound, with great
shouts of the people.

1 Con. Your Native Town you enter'd like a Poſte,
And had no welcomes home, but he returns
Splitting the Ayr with noyſe.

2. Con. And patient Fools,

Whofe children he hath ſlain, their bare throats tear

With giving him glory.

3. Con. Therefore at your vantage,

Ere he expreſs himſelf, or move the people

With what he would ſay, let him feel your Sword :

Which he will ſecond, when he lies along

After your way. His Tale pronounc'd, ſhall bury

His Reaſons, with his Body.

Auf. Say no more. Here come the Lords.

Enter the Lords of the City.

All Lords. You are moſt welcome home.

Auf. I have not deſerv'd it.

But worthy Lords, have you with heed perſuad
What I have written to you?

A. I. We have.

1. Lord. And grieve to hear't.

What faults he made before the laſt, I thinke

Might have found eafeſ Fines: But there to end

Where he was to begin, and give away

The benefit of our Levies, anſwering us

With our own charge: making a Treatie, where

There was a yeelding; this admits no eſcufe.

Auf.

620

The Lamentable Tragedy of

Titus Andronicus.

Adus Primus. Scena Prima.

Enter the Tribunes and Senators aloft. And then enter
Saturninus and his Followers at one dore, and
Bassianus and his Followers at the other,
with Drum & Colours.

Saturninus.

Oble Patricians, Patrons of my right,
Defend the justice of my Cause with Arms.
And Country-men, my loving Followers,
Plead my Successive Title with your Swords.

I was the first-born Son, that was the laft
That wore the Imperial Diadem of Rome:
Then let my Fathers Honours live in me,
Nor wrong mine age with this indignitie.
Bassian. Romans, Friends, Followers,
Favourers of my Right :
If ever Bassianus, Cæsar's Son,
Were gracious in the eyes of Royal Rome,
Keep then this paflage to the Capitol;
And suffer for Difhonour to approach
Th'Imperial Seat to Virtue: confecrate
To Justice, Continence, and Nobility:
But let Defert in pure election fline;
And Romanes, fight for Freedom in your Choice.

Enter Marcus Andronicus aloft with the Crown.

Princes, that strive by Facons, and my Friends,
Ambitiously for Rule and Emperie :
Know, that the people of Rome for whom we stand
A special Party, have by Common voice
In Election for the Romane Emperie,
Chofen Andronicus, Sur-nam'd Pius,
For many good and great deferts to Rome.
A Nobler man, a braver Warriour,
Lives not this day within the City Walls.
He by the Senate is accited home
From weary Warrs againft the barbarous Gothes,
That with his Sons ( a terror to our Foes )
Hath yoak'd a Nation ftrong, train'd up in Arms.
Ten years are ſpent, ſince firft he undertook
This Caufe of Rome, and chaſtified with arms
Our Enemies pride. Five times he hath return'd
Bleeding to Rome, bearing his valiant Sons
In Coffins from the Field.
And now at laft, Iaden with Honors Spoyls,
Returns the good Andronicus to Rome,
Renowned Titus, flourishing in Arms.

Let us intreat, by Honour of his Name
Whom (worthily) you would have now ſucceed,
And in the Capitol and Senates right,
Whom you pretend to honor and adore,
That you withdraw you, and abate your Strength,
Difmifs your Followers, and as Suters should,
Plead your Deferts in Peace and Humbleneſs.
Saturnin. How fair the Tribune ſpeaks,
To calm my thoughts.
Baffia. Marcens Androniuss, ſo I do affie
In thy uprightneſs and Integrity :
And ſo I Love and honor thee, and thine,
Thy Noble Brother Titus, and his Sons,
And her (to whom my thoughts are humbled all )
Gracious Lavinia, Romes rich Ornament,
That I will here diſmifs my loving Friends :
And to my Fortunes, and the Peoples Favour,
Commit my Caufe in ballance to be weigh'd.

Ex., Souldiers.

Saturnin. Friends that have been
Thus forward in my Right,
I thank you all, and here diſmifs you all,
And to the Love and Favour of my Countrey,
Commit my Self, my Perfon, and the Caufe:
Rome, be as juſt and gracious unto me,
As I am confident and kind to thee.
Open the Gates, and let me in,

Baffia. Tribunes, and me, a poor Competitot.
They go up into the Senate-houſe.

Enter a Captain.

Cap. Romans make way: the good Andronicus,
Patron of Virtue, Romes beſt Champion,
Suſeſful in the Battels that he fights,
With Honour and with Fortune is return'd,
From whence he circumſcribed with his Sword,
And brought to yoke the Enemies of Rome.

Sound Drums and Trumpets. And then Enter two of Titus
Sons: After them, two men bearing a Coffin covered
with black, then two other Sons. After them, Titus
Andronicus, and then Tamora the Queen of Gothes, and
her two Sons, Chiron and Demetrius, with Aaron the
Moor, and others, as many as can be: They let down
the Coffin, and Titus ſpeaks.

Andronicus, Hail Rome:
Victorious in thy mourning Weeds :

Loe

The Tragedy of Titus Androuicus.

621

Loe as the Birk that hath difcharg'd his fraught,
Returns with precious lading to the Bay,
From whence at first he weigh'd her Anchorage:
Commeth Andronicus bound with Lawrel bowes,
To refalute his Country with his tears,
Tears of true joy for his return to Rome,
Thou great defender of this Capitol,
Stand gracious to the Rites that we intend.

Romans, of five and twenty Valiant Sons,
Half of the number that King Priam had,
Behold the poor remains alive and dead!
These that Survive, let Rome reward with Love:
These that I bring unto their lateft home,
With burial amongst their Anceftors.

Here Gothes have given me leave to fbeath my Sword :
Titus unkind, and carelefs of thine own,
VWhy fuffer't thou thy Sons unburied yet,
To hover on the dreadful fhore of Styx?

Make way to lay them by their Brethren.

### They open the Tomb.

There greet in filence as the dead are wont,
And fleep in peace, flain in your Countries warrs :
Ofcreed receptacle of my joyes,
Sweet Cell of virtue and Nobility,
How many Sons of mine haft thou in flore,
That thou wilt never render to me more?

Luc. Give us the proudeft prifoner of the Gothes,
That we may hew his limbs, and on a pile
Almanes fratrum, sacrifice his flesh,
Before this earthy prifon of their bones,
That lo the fhadows be not unappeas'd,
Nor we difturb'd with prodigies on earth.

Tit. I give him you, the Nobleft that survives,
The eldest Son of this diſtrefled Queen.

Tam. Stay Roman brethren, gracious Conqueror,
Victorious Titus, faire the tears I shed,
A Mothers tears in paffion for her ſon :

And if thy ſons were ever dear to thee,
Oh think my ſons to be as dear to me.

Sufficeth not, that we are brought to Rome,
To beautifize thy Triumphs, and return
Captive to thee, and to thy Roman yoke;
But muſt my ſons be flaſtred in the streets,
For Valiant doings in their Countries cauſe ?
O! If to fight for King and Common-weal,
VWere piety in thine, it is in theſe :

Andronicus, ſtain not thy Tomb with blood.

VVilt thou draw near the nature of the Gods ?
Draw near them then in being merciful,

Sweet mercy is Nobilities true badge,
Thrice Noble Titus, spare my firſt born-fon.

Tit. Patient your ſelf Madam, and pardon me.
These are the Brethren, whom you Gothes behold
Alive and dead, and for their Brethren flain,
Religioſly they ask a ſacrifice ;
To this your ſon is markt, and die he muſt,

To appeafe their groaning fhadows that are gone.
Luc. Away with him, and make a fire ſtraight.

And with our Swords upon a pile of wood,
Let's hew his limbs till they be clean confum'd.

### Exit Sons with Alarbus.

Tam. O cruel irreligious piety.

Chi. VVas ever Scylphia half so barbarous ?

Dem. Oppoſe me Scythia to ambitions Rome,

Alarbus go to reſt, and we ſurvive,

To tremble under Titus threatening looks,

Then Madam ſtand refolv'd, but hope withall,

The ſelf fame Gods that arm'd the Queen of Troy

VWith opportunity of ſharp revenge

Upon the Thracian Tyrant in his Tent,

My favour Tamora the Queen of Gothes,

(VWhen Gothes were Gothes, and Tamora was Queen)

To quit the bloody wrongs upon her foes.

### Enter the Sons of Andronicus again.

Luc. See Lord and Father, how we have perform'd
Our Roman rites, Alarbus limbs are lopt,

And intrals feed the facrifizing fire,

VWhoſe smoke like incenſe doth perfume the skie.

Remainſeth nought but to interr our Brethren,

And with loud Larums welcome them to Rome.

Tit. Let it be so, and let Andronicus

Make this his lateſt farewel to their ſouls.

### Then Sound Trumpets, and lay the Coffins in the Tomb.

In peace and honour reſt you here my Sons,
Romes readieſt Champions, repoſe you here in reſt,
Secure from worldly chances and miſhaps :

Here lurks no Treafon, here no envie ſwells,

Here grow no damned grudges, here no ſtorms,

No noise, but filence and Eternal ſleep :

In peace and Honour reſt you here my ſons.

### Enter Lavina.

Lav. In peace and honour, live Lord Titus long.

My Noble Lord and Father, live in Fame :

Loeat this Tomb my tributary tears,

I render for my Brethrens Obſequies :

And at thy feet I kneel, with tears of joy

Shed on the earth for thy return to Rome.

O bleſſe me here with thy victorious hand,

VWhoſe Fortune Romes beſt Citizens applau'd.

Tit. Kind Rome,

That haſt thus lovingly reſerſ'd

The Cordial of mine age to glad my heart,

Lavinia live, out-live thy Fathers days :

And Fames eternal date for virtues prauſe.

Mar. Long live Lord Titus, my beloved brother,
Gracious Triumpher in the eyes of Rome.

Tit. Thanks gentle Tribune,

Noble brother Marcus.

Mar. And welcome. Nephews from ſuccesſul warrs,
You that survive, and you that ſleep in Fame :

Fair Lords your Fortunes are all alike in all,

That in your Countries ſervice drew your Swords,

But ſaſer Triumph is this Funeral Pomp,

That hath aſpir'd to Solons happineſs,

And Triumphs over chance in honors bed.

Titus Andronicus, the people of Rome,

Whoſe friend in juſtice thou haſt ever been,

Send thee by me their Tribune, and their truſt,

This Palliament of white and ſpittleſes Hues,

And name thee in Eleſion for the Empire

With theſe our late deceaſed Emperors Sons :

Be Candidatus then, and put it on,

And help to fet a head on headleſs Rome.

Tit. A better head her Glorious body fits,
Then his that shakes for age and feebleneſs :

Ggg

What

The Tragedy of Titus Andronicus.

What should I d'on this Robe and trouble you?

Be chosen with proclamations to day,

To tomorrow yeeld up rule, refigne my life,
And fet abroad new buſeſs for you all.

Rome I have bene thy Souldier forty years,

And led my Countries ſtrength ſucceſſully,

And buried one and twenty Valiant Sonns,

Knighted in Field, ſlain manfully in Arms,

In right and Service of their Noble Country:

Give me a ſtaff of Honour for mine age,

But not a Scepter to controul the world,

Vpright he held it Lords, that held it laſt.

Mar. Titus, thou ſhalt obtain and ask the Empire.

Sat. Proud and ambitious Tribune can't thou tell?

Titus. Patience Prince Saturninns.

Sat. Romans do me right.

Partricians draw your Swords, and ſhathem not

Till Saturninns be Romes Emperour:

Andronicus would thou weret thipt to hell,

Rather than rob me of the peoples hearts.

Luc. Proud Saturnine, interrupter of the good

That Noble-minded Titus means to thee.

Tit. Content thee Prince, I will reſtore to thee

The peoples hearts, and wean them from themſels.

Bafs. Andronicus, I do not flatter thee,

But Honour thee, and will do: till I die:

My Fadction if thou ſtrengthen with thy Friends

I will moſt thankful be, and thanks to men

Of Noble mindeſs, is Honourable Meed.

Tit. People of Rome, and Noble Tribunes here,

I ask your voices and your Suffrages,

Will you beſtow them friendly on Andronicus?

Tribu. To gratiſe the good Andronicus,

And Gratulate his ſafe return to Rome

The people will accept whom he admits.

Tit. Tribunes I thank you, and this ſure I make,

That you Create your Emperours eldeſt ſonne,

Lord Saturnine, whose Virtues will, I hope,

Reſſect on Rome as Tytans Rays on earth,

And ripen Iuſtice in this Common-woal:

Then if you will elect by my advife,

Crown him, and ſay, Long live our Emperour.

Mar. An. With Voices and applaſe of every ſon,

Patricians and Plebeians, we Create

Lord Saturninns Romes Great Emperour.

And ſay, Long live our Emperour Saturnine.

A long Flourish till they come down.

Sat. Titus Andronicus, for thy Favours done,

To us in our Election this day,

I give thee thanks in part of thy Deſerts,

And will with Deeds requite thy gentlenefs:

And for an Onſet Titus to advance

Thy Name, and Honourable Family,

Lavinia will I make my Empreſs,

Romes Royal Miftris, Miftris of my heart,

And in the Sacred Panthaon her ſepſouſe :

Tell me Andronicus doth this motion płaſe thee?

Tit. It doth my worthy Lord, and in this match,
I hold me Highly Honoured of your Grace,

And here in fight of Rome, to Saturnine,
King and Commander of our Common-woal,
The wide-worlds Emperour, do I Confecrate,

My Sword, my Chariot, and my Prifoners,

Praeſents well Worthy Romes Imperial Lord :

Receive them then, the Tribute that I owe,

Mine Honours Enſignes humbled at my ſeet.

Sat. Thanks Noble Titus, Father of my life,
How proud I am of thee, and of thy gifts,
Rome ſhall record, and when I do forget
The leaſt of theſe unſpeakable Deſerts,
Romans forget your Fealty to me.

Tit. Now Madam, are you prifoner to an Emperour,
To him that for your Honour and your State,
Will uſe me Nobly and your Followers.

Sat. A goodly Lady, truſt me of the Hue
That I would chooſ, were I to chooſ a new:
Cleer up Fair Queen that cloudy countenance,
Though chance of warr hath wrought this change of
Thou com'ſt not to be made a ſcon in Rome. (cheer,
Princely ſhall be thy uſage every way.

Reſt on my word, and let not diſcontent

Daunt all your hopes: Madam he comforts you,

Can make you Greater than the Queen of Gothes?

Lavinia, you are not diſpleas'd with this?

Lav. Not I my Lord, fifth true Nobility,

Warrants theſe words in Princely curſeſe.

Sat. Thanks ſweet Lavinia, Romans let us goe:

Ranſomleſs here we ſet our Prifoners free,

Proclaim our Honours Lords with Trumpet and Drum,

Bafs. Lord Titus by your leave this Maid is mine.

Tit. How fit? Are you in earneſt then my Lord?

Bafs. I Noble Titus, and refolv'd withall,

To doe my ſelf this reaſon, and this right.

Marc. Snum unique, is our Romane Iuſtice:

This Prince in Iuſtice ceazeth but his own.

Luc. And that he will and ſhall if Lucins live.

Tit. Traytors avant, where is the Emperours Guard?

Treaſon my Lord, Lavinia is ſurpris'd.

Sat. Surpris'd, by whom?

Bafs. By him that juſtly may

Bear his Betroth'd, from all the world away.

Mut. Brothers help to convey her hence away,

And with my Sword Ile keep this door ſafe.

Tit. Follow my Lord, and Ile ſoon bring her back.

Mut. My Lord you paſs not here.

Tit. What villain Boy, barr'd me my way in Rome?

Mut. Help, Lucins help.

He kils him.

Luc. My Lord you are unjuſt, and more than fo,

In wrongful quarrel you have ſlain your ſon.

Tt. Nor thou, nor he, are any ſonns of mine.

My ſonns would never ſo diſhonour me.

Traitor reſtore Lavinia to the Emperour.

Luc. Dead if you will, but not to be his wife,

That is anothers lawful promiſt Love.

Enter aloſt the Emperour with Tamora and her two ſonns and Aaron the Moor.

Emp. No Titus, no, the Emperour needs her not,
Nor her, nor thee, nor any of thy ſtock:

Ile truſt by Leiſure him that mocks me once,

Thee never: nor thy Traiteſous haughty ſonns,

Confederates all, thus to diſhonour me.

Was there none els in Rome to make a ſtale of

But Saturnine? Full well Andronicus

Agree theſe Deeds, with that proud bragg of thine,

That ſaid, I beg'd the Empire at thy hands.

Tit. O monſtrous, what reproaſhfull words are theſe?

Sat. But goe thy ways, goe give that changing peecce,
To him that flourifth for her with his Sword:

A Valiant ſonn in-law thou ſhalt enjoy:

One, fit to bandy with thy lawleſs Sonns,

To

["The Tragedy of Titus Andronicus.", "624", "Were gratious in those Princely eyes of thine,\nThen hear me speak indifferently for all:\nAnd at my fute (sweet) pardon what is paſt.\nSat. What Madam, be difhonoured openly,\nAnd basely put it up without revenge ?", "Tam. Not so my Lord,", "The Gods of Rome fore-fend,", "I should be Author to difhonour you,", "But on mine honour dare I undertake", "For good Lord Titus innocence in all :", "Whofe fury not difembled fpeaks his griefs :", "Then at my fute look graciously on him,", "Loſe not ſo noble a friend on vain fuppofe,", "Nor with fowr looks afflict his gentle heart.", "My Lord, be rul'd by me, be won at laſt,", "Diflemble all your griefs and discontents,", "You are but newly planted in your Throes,", "Left then the people, and Patricians too,", "Upon a juſt ſurvey take Titus part,", "And ſupplant us for ingratitude,", "Which Rome reputes to be a heynous fin.", "Yield at intreats, and then let me alone :", "Ile find a day to maffacre them all,", "And raze their faction, and their family.", "The cruel Father, and his trayt'rous ſons,", "To whom I ſued for my dear ſons life;", "And make them know what 'tis to let a Queen", "Kneel in the streets, and beg for grace in vain.", "Come, come, sweet Emperour (come Andronicus)", "Take up this good old man, and cheer the heart,", "That dies in tempeſt of thy angry frown.", "Sat. Rife Titus, rife,", "My Emprefis hath prevail'd", "Titus. I thank your Majefly,", "And her my Lord.", "These words, these looks,", "Infufe new life in me.", "Tam. Titus, I am incorporate in Rome,", "A Roman now, adopted happily :", "And muſt advife the Emperour for his good,", "This day all quarrels die Andronicus,", "And let it be my honour good my Lord,", "That I have reconcil'd your friends and you,", "For you Prince Baffianus, I have paſt", "My word and promife to the Emperour,", "That you will be more mild and tractable.", "And fear not Lords :", "And you Lavinia,", "By my advife all humbled on your knees,", "You ſhall ask pardon of his Majefly.", "Sen. We do,", "And to heaven, and to his Highneſs,", "That what we did, was mildly, as we might,", "Tendring our fifters honour and our own.", "Mar. That on mine honour here I do proteſt.", "Sat. Away and talk not, trouble us no more.", "Tam. Nay, nay,", "Sweet Emperour, we muſt all be friends,", "The Tribune and his Nephews kneel for grace,", "I will not be denied, ſweet heart look back.", "Sat. Marcus,", "For thy ſake and thy brothers here,", "And at my lovely Tamora's intreats,", "I do remit theſe young mens heynous faults.", "Stand up Lavinia, though you left me like a churl,\nI found a friend, and fure as death I ſware,", "I would not part a Batchelor from the Prieſt.", "Come, if the Emperours Court can ſaft two Brides,", "You are my gueſt Lavinia, and your friends :", "This day ſhall be a Love-day Tamora.", "Tit. To morrow and it please your Majefly,", "To hunt the Panther and the Hart with me,", "With Horn and Hound,", "Wee'l give your Grace Bon jour,", "Sat. Be it to Titus, and Gramercy too.", "Extenu.", "Actus Secundus.", "Enter Aron alone.", "Aron. Now climbeth Tamora Olympus top,", "Safe out of Fortunes ſhot, and fits aloft,", "Secure of Thunders crack or lightning ſhak,", "Advanc'd above pale envies threatening reach :", "As when the golden Sun ſalutes the morn,", "And having gilt the Ocean with his beams,", "Gallops the Zodiack in his gloſting Coach,", "And over-looks the highest piring hills :", "So Tamora.", "Upon her wit doth early honour wait,", "And virtue, floops and trembles at her frown.", "Then Aron arm thy heart, and fit thy thoughts,", "To mount aloft with thy Emperial Miftrifs,", "And mount her pitch, whom thou in triumph long", "Haſt prifoner held, fetſt in amorous chains,", "And after bound to Arons charming eyes,", "Than is Prometheus : ti'd to Cancaſus.", "Away with flavith weeds, and idle thoughts,", "I will be bright, and ſhine in Pearl and Gold,", "To wait upon this new made Emprefis,", "To wait faſd I ? To wanton with this Queen,", "This Goddeſs, this Semiramis, this Queen,", "This Syren, that will charm Romes Saturnine,", "And fee his ſhipwrack, and his Common weals.", "Holla, what ſtorm is this ?", "Enter Chiron and Demetrius braving.", "Dem. Chiron thy years want wit, thy wit wants edge", "And manners to intrude where I am grac'd,", "And may for ought to knowſt affected be.", "Chi. Demetrius, thou doſt over-ween in all,", "And ſo in this, to bear me down with braves,", "'Tis not the difference of a year or two", "Makes me leſs gracious, or thee more fortunate :", "I am as able, and as fit as thou,", "To ſerve, and to deferve my Miftrifs grace,", "And that my ſword upon thee ſhall approve,", "And plead my paſſions for Lavinia's love.", "Ar. Clubs, clubs, theſe lovers will not keep the peace.", "Dem. Why Boy, although our mother (unadvifed)", "Gave you a dancing Rapier by your ſide,", "Are you ſo desperate grown to threat your friends ?", "Go to : have your Lath glued within your ſheath,", "Till you know better how to handle it.", "Chi. Mean while Sir, with the little skill I have,", "Full well ſhalt thou perceive how much I dare.", "Dem. I Boy, grow ye ſo brave ?", "They draw.", "Ar. Why now Lords ?", "So near the Emperours Palace dare you draw ?", "And"

["The Tragedy of Titus Androuicus.", "625", "And maintain such a quarrel openly ?", "Full well I wot, the ground of all this grudge.", "I would not for a million of Gold,", "The caufe were known to them it moſt concerns.", "Nor would your noble mother for much more", "Be ſo diſhonoured in the Court of Rome.", "For (hame put) up.", "Dem. Not I, till I have ſheath'd", "My rapier in his boſom, and withall", "Thraut theſe reproachful ſpeeches down his throat,", "That he hath breath'd in my diſhonour here.", "Chi. For that I am prepar'd, and full refolv'd,", "Foul ſpoken Coward,", "That thundreſt with thy tongue,", "And with thy weapon nothing dar't perform.", "Ar. Away I fay.", "Now by the Gods that warlike Goths adore,", "This pretty braſble will undo us all:", "Why Lords, and think you not how dangerous", "It is to fer upon a Princes right ?", "What is Lavinia then become to loofe,", "Or Baffianus to degenerate,", "That for her love ſuch quarrels may be broacht,", "Without controulment, Juitice or revenge ?", "Young Lords beware, and ſhould the Empreſs know", "This disſord ground, the mufick would not plearſe.", "Chi. I care not, I, knew he and all the world.", "I love Lavinia more than all the world.", "Dem. Youngling,", "Learn thou to make ſome better choice,", "Lavinia is thine elder brothers hope.", "Ar. Why are ye mad ? Or know ye not in Rome", "How ſurious and impatient they be,", "And cannot brook Competitors in love ?", "I tell you Lords, you do but plot your deaths", "By this devife.", "Chi. Aron, a thouſand deaths would I propoſe,", "To atchieve her whom I do love.", "Ar. To achieve her, how ?", "Dem. Why mak't thou it so ſtrange ?", "She is a woman, therefore may be woo'd,", "She is a woman, therefore may be won,", "She is Lavinia, therefore muſt be lov'd.", "What man, more water glideth by the Mill", "Than wors the Miller of, and eafie it is", "Of a cut loaf to ſeel a ſhive we know :", "Though Baffianus be the Emperours Brother,", "Better than he have yet worn Vulcans badge.", "Ar. I, and as good as Saturninus may.", "Dem. Then why should he deſpair that knows to\nWith words, fair looks, and liberality ? ( court it", "What haſt thou not full often ſtruck a Doe,", "And born her cleanly by the Keepers noſe ?", "Ar. Why then it ſeems ſome certain ſnatch or ſo", "Would ſerve your turns.", "Chi. I ſo the turn were ſerved.", "Dem. Aron thou haſt hit it.", "Ar. Would you had hit it too,", "Then ſhould not we be tir'd with this ado :", "Why hark yee, hark yee, and are you ſuch fools,", "To ſquare for this ? Would it offend you then ?", "Chi. Faith not me.", "Dem. Nor me, ſo I were one.", "Ar. For ſhame be friends, and joyn for that you jar:", "'Tis policy and ſtratagem muſt do", "That you affect, and ſo muſt you resolve,", "That what you cannot as you would achieve,", "You muſt perſorce accompliſh as you may :", "Take this of me, Lucrece was not more chaſt", "Than this Lavinia, Baffianus love,", "A ſpeedier courſe this lingering languilament", "Muſt we purſue, and I have found the path :", "My Lords, a ſolemn hunting is in hand,", "There will the lovely Roman Ladies troop :", "The Foreſt walks are wide and ſpacious,", "And many unfrequented plots there are,", "Fitted by kind for rape and villany :", "Single you thither then this dainty Doe,", "And ſtrike her home by force, if not by words :", "This way or not at all, ſtand you in hope.", "Come, come, our Empreſs with her facered wit", "To villany and vengeance conſeſrate,", "Will we acquaint with all that we intend,", "And the ſhall file our engines with adviſe,", "That will not ſuffer you to ſquare your ſelves,", "But to your wilſes height advance you both.", "The Emperours Court is like the house of Fame,", "The Palace full of tongues, of eyes, of ears :", "The Woods are ruthleſſe, dreadful, deaf, and dull :", "There ſpeak, and ſtrike brave Boyes, and take your turns.", "There ſerve your luſts, ſhadow'd from heavens eye,", "And revel in Lavinia's Treasury.", "Chi. Thy counſel Lad ſmells of no cowardife.", "Dem. ſi fas aut neſas, till I find the ſteams", "To cool this heat, a Charm to calm their fits,", "Per ſtygia per manes Vehor.", "Exeunt.", "Enter Titus Andronicus and his three ſons, making a noife with bounds and horns, and Marcus.", "Tit. The hunt is up, the morn is bright and gray,", "The fields are fragrant, and the Woods are green,", "Uncouple here, and let us make a bay,", "And wake the Emperour and his lovely Bride,", "And rouze the Prince, and ring a hunters peal,", "That all the Court may echo with the noife.", "Sons let it be your charge, as it is ours,", "To attend the Emperours perſon carefully :", "I have been troubled in my ſleep this night,", "But dawning day new comfort hath inſpir'd.", "Wind Horns.", "Here acry of hounds, and wind horns in a peal, then\nEnter Saturninus, Tamora, Baffianus, Lavinia, Chiron,\nDemetrius, and their Attendants.", "Tit. Many good morrows to your Majety;", "Madam to you as many and as good.", "I promiſed your Grace a hunters peal.", "Sat. And you have rung it luſtily my Lords,", "Somewhat too early for new married Ladies,", "Baſ. Lavinia, how ſay you ?", "Lav. I ſay no :", "I have been awake two hours and more.", "Sat. Come on then, horſe and Chariots let us have,", "And to our ſport : Madam, now ſhall ye fee", "Our Roman hunting.", "Mar. I have dogs my Lord,", "Will rouze the proudeſt Panther in the Chafee,", "And climb the highest Promontory top,", "Tit. And I have horſe will follow where the game\nMakes away, and run like Swallows o're the plain.", {"bbox

626

Dem. Chiron, we hunt not, we, with Horfe nor Hound,
But hope to pluck a dainty Doe to ground.
Exeunt.
Enter Aron alone.

Ar. He that had wit, would think that I had none,
To bury so much Gold under a Tree,
And never after to inherit it.
Let him that thinks of me so abjectly,
Know that this Gold must coin a stratagem,
Which cunningly effected, will beget
A very excellent piece of villany :
And to repose sweet Gold for their unrest,
That have their Alms out of the Empreſs Cheſt.
Enter Tamora to the Moor.

Tam. My lovely Aron,
Wherefore look't thou faſ,
When every thing doth make a Gleeful boast ?
The Birds chaunt melody on every buſh,
The Snake lies rolled in the chearful Sun,
The green leaves quiver with the cooling wind,
And make a chequered shadow on the ground :
Under their sweet ſhade, Aron let us fit,
And whil't the babling Ecto mocks the Hounds,
Replying thrilly to the well-tun'd Horns,
As if a double hunt were heard at once,
Let us fit down, and mark their yelping noise :
And after conflict, ſuch as was tuppos'd
The wandring Prince and Dido once enjoy'd,
When with a happy ſtorm they were ſurpriz'd,
And Curtain'd with a counsel-keeping Cave,
We may each wreathed in the others arms,
( Our paſtimes done ) poſſes a Golden flumber,
Whiles Hounds and Horns, and sweet Melodious Birds
Be unto us, as is a Nurfes Song
Of Lullaby, to bring her Babe afleep.

Ar. Madam,
Though Venus govern your deſires,
Saturn is Dominator over mine :
What ſignifies my deadly ſtanding eye,
My ſilence, and my Cloudy Melancholy,
My ſmeele of Woolly hair, that now uncurles,
Even as an Adder when the doth unrowl
To do ſome fatal execution ?
No Madam, theſe are no Venerial ſigns,
Vengeance is in my heart, death in my hand,
Blood and revenge are Hammering in my head,
Hark Tamora, the Empreſs of my Soul,
Which never hopes more heaven, than reſts in thee,
This is the day of Doom for Bafsianus :
His Philomel muſt loſe her tongue to day,
Thy Sons make Pillage of her Chaſtity,
And wath their hands in Bafsianus blood.
Seeſt thou this Letter, take it up I pray thee,
And give the King this fatal plotted Scrowl ;
Now question me no more, we are eſpied,
Here comes a parcel of our hopeful Booty,
Which dreads not yet their lives deſtruction.

Enter Bafsianus and Lavinia.

Tam. Ah my sweet Moor,
Sweeter to me than life.

Ar. No more great Empreſs, Bafsianus comes,
Be croſs with him, and I'll go fetch thy Sons
To back thy quarrels whatfoe're they be.

Baf. Whom have we here ?
Romes: Royal Empreſs,

Unfurniſh't of our well-beſeeming troop ?
Or is it Dian habited like her,
Who hath abandoned her holy Groves,
To fee the general Hunting in this Foreft ?

Tam. Sawcy controller of our private ſteps :
Had I the power that ſome ſay Dian had,
Thy Temples ſhould be planted prefeminly
With Horns, as was Aſſaons, and the Hounds
Should drive upon his new transformed limbs,
Unmannerly Intruder as thou art.

Lav. Under your patience gentle Empreſs,
'Tis thought you have a goodly gift in Horning,
And to be doubted, that your Moor and you
Are fingled forth to try experiments :
Jove ſhield your Husband from his Hounds to day,
'Tis pity they ſhould take him for a Stag.

Baf. Believe me Queen, your ſwarth Cymmerian
Doth make your Honour of his bodies Hue,
Sported, deteſted, and abominable.

Why are you leſqueſt from all your crain ?
Diſmounted from your Snow-white goodly Steed,
And wandred hither to an obſcure plot,
Accompanied with a barbarous Moor,
If foul deſire had not conducted you ?

Lav. And being intercepted in your ſport,
Great reaſon that my Noble Lord be rated
For Saucineſs; I pray you let us hence,
And let her jcy her Raven-coloured love,
This valley fits the purpofe paffing well.

Baf. The King my brother ſhall have notice of this.
Lav. I, for theſe ſlips have made him noted long,
Good King, to be ſo mightily abufed.

Tam. Why have I patience to endure all this ?

Enter Chiron and Demetrius.

Dem. How now dear Sovereign
And our gracious Mother,
Why doth your Higneſs look ſo pale and wan ?
Tam. Have I not reaſon think you to look pale ?
Theſe two have tic'd me hither to this place,
A barren, deteſted vale you fee it is.
The Trees ( though Summer ) yet forlorn and lean,
Ore-come with Moſs, and baleful Miffelto.
Here never ſhines the Sun, here nothing breeds,
Unleſs the nightly Owl, or fatal Raven.
And when they ſhew'd me this abhorred pit,
They told me, here at dead time of the night,
A thouſand Fiends, a thouſand hiffing Snakes,
Ten thouſand ſwelling Toads, as many tirchins,
Would make ſuch fearful and confuſed cries,
As any mortal body hearing it,
Should ſtrait fall mad, or eſſe die suddenly.
No ſooner had they told this helliſh tale,
But ſtrait they told me they would bind me here,
Unto the body of a diſmal yew,
And leave me to this miſerable death.
And then they call'd me foul Adulterеſs,
Lafcivious Goth, and all the bitterest terms
That ever ears did hear to ſuch effect.
And had you not by wondrous fortune come,
This vengeance on me had they executed :
Revenge it, as you love your Mothers life,
Or be ye not henceforth call'd my Children.

Dem. This is a witneſs that I am thy Son.

Stab him.

Chi. And this for me,

Strook home to ſhew my ſtrength.

Lav. I come Semiramis, nay Barbarous Tamora,

For

627

For no name fits thy nature but thy own.

Tam. Give me thy poyngard: you shall know my boys
Your Mothers hand shall right your Mothers wrong.

Dem. Stay Madam, here is more belongs to her,
Firstt thraff the Corn, then after burn the fraw :

This Minion flood upon her chafity,
Upon her Nuptial vow, her loyalty,

And with that painted hope she braves your Mightines,
And shall she carry this unto her grave ?

Chi. And if the do,

I would I were an Eunuch.

Drag hence her husband to some secret hole,

And make his dead Trunk-Pillow to our luft.

Tam. But when ye have the hony ye desire,
Let not this Whaft out-live us both to fting.

Chi. I warrant you Madam we will make that fure :
Come Miftris, now perforce we will enjoy,
That nice-preferred honefty of yours.

Lav. O Tamora thou bear't a woman's face.

Tam. I will not hear her ſpeak, away with her.

Lav. Sweet Lords intreat her hear me but a word.

Dem. Llten fair Madam, let it be your glory
To fee her tears, but be your heart to them,
As unrelenting flints to drops of rain.

Lav. When did the Tygers young-ones teach the dam?
O do not learn her wrath, ſhe taught it thee,

The milk thou fuck't from her did turn to Marble,

Even at thy Teat thou had't thy Tyranny,
Yet every Mother breeds not Sons alike,

Do thou intreat her ſhew a woman pitty.

Chi. What,

VWould it thou have me prove my ſelf a baſtard ?

Lav. 'Tis true,

The Raven doth not hatch a Lark,

Yet have I heard, O could I find it now,

The Lyon mov'd with pitye, did indure

To have his Princely paws par'd all away.

Some ſay, that Ravens ſofter for ſorn children,

The whil't their own birds famili in their nefts :

Oh be to me though thy hard heart ſay no,

Nothing so kind but something pittrful.

Tam. I know nor what it means, away with her.

Lav. Oh let me teach thee for my Fathers ſake.

That gave thee life when well he might have flain thee:
Be not obdurate, open thy deaf ears.

Tam. Had't thou in perſon nere offended me,

Even for his ſake am I now pittieſes :

Remember Boys I pow'r'd forth ſeans in vain,

But tave your brother from the ſacriſe,

To ſ fierce Androuicus would not relent,

Therefore away with her, and use her as you will,

The worſe to her, the better lov'd of me.

Lav. Oh Tamora,

Be call'd a gentle Queen,

And with thine own hands kill me in this place,

For 'tis not life that I have begg'd to long,

Poor I was flain, when Baffianus dy'd.

Tam. What begg'd thou then? fond woman, let me go.

Lav. 'Tis preſent death I beg, and one thing more,
That womanhood denies my tongue to tell :

Oh keep me from their worſe than killing luſt,

And tumble me into ſome loathsome pit,

Where never man's eye may behold my body:

Do this, and be a charitable murderer.

Tam. So should I rob my ſweet Sons of their fee,
No, let them fatisſe their luſt on thee.

Dem. Away.

For thou haſt ſtaid us here too long.

Lav. No grace ?

No woman-hood? Ah beaſtly creature,
The blot and enemy to our general name,

Confusion all—

Chi. Nay then Ile ſtop your mouth,
Bring thou her husband,

This is the Hole where Aron bid us hide him.

Exeunt.

Tam. Farewel my Sons, fee that you make her ſure,
Nere let my heart know merry cheer indeed,
Till all the Andronici be made away :

Now will I hence to ſee my lovely Moor,

And let my ſpleenful Sons this Trul deflour.

Exit.

Enter Aron with two of Titus Sons.

Aron. Come on my Lords, the better foot before,
Straight will I bring you to the loathsome pit,
Where I eſpied the Panther faſt aſleep.

Quin. My fight is very dull what ere it bodes.

Mar. And mine I promife you, were it not for ſhame,
VWell could I leave our ſport to ſleep to a while.

Quin. VWhat art thou fallen ?

VWhat subtile Hole is this,

VWhofe mouth is covered with Rude growing Briers,
Upon whole leavs are drops of new-fled-blood,

As fresh as mornings dew diffill'd on flowers ?

A very fatal place it ſeems to me :

Speak Brother haſt thou hurt thee with the fall ?

Mar. Oh Brother,

VWith the diſmall't object

That ever eye with fight made heart lament.

Ar. Now will I fetch the King to find them here,
That he thereby may have a likely gueſt,

How theſe were they that made away his brother.

Exit Aron.

Mar. VVhy doſt not comfort me and help me out,
From this unhallow'd and blood-flained Hole ?

Quin. I am ſurprized with an uncouch fear,
A chilling ſweat ore-runs my trembling joyns,
My heart ſuſpects more than mine eye can fee.

Mar. To prove thou haſt a true divining heart,

Aron and thou look down into this den,

And fee a fearful fight of blood and death.

Quin. Aron is gone,

And my compassionate heart

VVill not permit mine eyes, once to behold.

The thing whereat it trembles by ſurlife :

Oh tell me how it is, for there till now

VWas I a child, to fear I know not what.

Mar. Lord Baffianus lies embrewed here,

All on a heap like to the ſaughtrred Lamb,

In this detefted, dark, blood-drinking pit.

Quin. If it be dark, how do't thou know 'tis he ?

Mar. Upon his bloody finger he doth wear

A precious Ring, that lightens all the Hole :

VWhich like a Taper in ſome Monument,

Doth ſhine upon the dead mans earthly cheeks,

And ſhews the ragged intrails of the pit :

So pale did thine the Moon on Piramus,

VWhen he by night lay bath'd in Maiden blood :

O Brother help me with thy fainting hand,

If fear hath made thee faint, as me it hath,

Out of this fe, I devouring receptacle,

As hatſful as Cocitas miſie mouth.

Quin. Reach me thy hand, that I may help thee out,

Of

628

Or wanting strength to do thee so much good,
I may be pluckt into the swallowing womb
Of this deep pit, poor *Bassianus* grave:
I have no strength to pluck thee to the brink.

*Mar.* Nor I no strength to climb without thy help.
*Quin.* Thy hand once more, I will not looke again,
I'll thou art her a loft, or I below :
Thou can't not come to me, I come to thee. Both fall in:

Enter the Emperour, Aron the Moor.

*Sat.* Along with me, I'le see what hole is here,
And what he is, that now is leapt into it.
Say, who art thou that lately did'ft descend
Into this gaping hollow of the earth ?

*Mar.* The unhappy fon of old Andronicus,
Brought hither in a moft unlucky hour,
To find thy brother *Bassianus* dead.

*Sat.* My brother dead ? I know thou do'ft but jeft,
He and his Lady both are at the Lodg,
Upon the North-fide of this pleafant Chafe,
'Tis not an hout ſince I left him there.

*Mar.* We know not where you left him all alive,
But out alas, here have we found him dead.

Enter Tamora, Andronicus, and Lucius.

*Tam.* Where is my Lord the King ?
*Sat.* Here *Tamora*, though griev'd with killing grief.
*Tam.* Where is thy brother *Bassianus* ?
*Sat.* Now to the bottom do'ft thou search my wound,
Poor *Bassianus* here lies murthered.

*Tam.* Then all too late I bring this fatal writ,
The complot of this timelesſ Tragedy,
And wonder greatly that mans face can fold
In pleafing ſmiles ſuch murderous Tyranny.

She giveth Saturnine a Letter.

*Saturninus reads the Letter.*

*And if we mifs to meet him handsomely,
Sweet huntman, *Bassianus* 'tis we mean,
Do thou ſomuch as dig the grave for him,
Thou know'ſt our meaning, look for thy reward
Among the Nettles at the Elder tree :
What over-shades the mouth of that ſame pit,
Where we decreed to bury *Bassianus* ;
Do this, and purchase us thy laſing friends.

*Sat.* Oh *Tamora*, was ever heard the like ?
This is the pit, and this the Elder tree,
Look firſ, if you can find the huntman out,
That should have murthered *Bassianus* here.

*Ar.* My gracious Lord, here is the bag of Gold.

*Sat.* Two of thy whelps, fell Curs of bloody kind
Have here bereft my brother of his life :
Sirs, drag them from the pit unto the prifon,
There let them bide until we have devis'd
Some never heard-of torturing pain for them.

*Tam.* What are they in this pit ?
Oh wondrous thing !
How easily murder is discovered?

*Tit.* High Emperour, upon my feeble knee,
I beg this boon, with tears, not lightly ſhed,
That this ſell fault of my accurſed Sons,
Accurſed, if the faults be prov'd in them —

*Sat.* If it be prov'd ? you fee it is apparent,

Who found this Letter, *Tamora* was it you ?
*Tam.* Andronicus himſelf did take it up.

*Tit.* I did my Lord,
Yet let me be their bail.

For by my Fathers reverent Tomb I vow
They ſhall be ready at your Hignels will,
To anſwer their ſuſpition with their lives.

*Sat.* Thou ſhalt not bail them, ſee thou follow me :
Some bring the murthered body, ſome the murtherers,
Let them not ſpeak a word, the guilt is plain,
For by my foul, were there worſe end than death,
That end upon them ſhould be executed.

*Tam.* Andronicus I will intreat the King,
Fear not thy Sons, they ſhall do well enough.

*Tit.* Come *Lucius*, come,
Stay not to talk with them.

Exeunt.

Enter the Emp�ſ Sons, with Lavinia, her hands cut off,
and her tongue cut out, and ravisht.

*Dem.* So now go tel, and if thy tongue can ſpeak,
Who 'twas that cut thy tongue and ravilſt thee.

*Chi.* Write down thy mind, bewray thy meaning ſo,
And if thy flumps will let thee play the Scribe.

*Dem.* See how with ſigns and tokens ſhe can ſcowl.

*Chi.* Go home,

Call for ſweet water, wath thy hands.

*Dem.* She hath no tongue to call, nor hands to wath.
And ſo let's leave her to her ſilent walks.

*Chi.* And 'twere my caufe, I ſhould go hang my ſelf.

*Dem.* If thou had'ſt hands to help thee knit the cord.

Exeunt.

Wind Horns.

Enter Marcus from hunting to Lavinia,
Who is this, my Neece, that flies away ſo ſaſt ?
Cofen, a word, where is your husband ?
If I do dream, would all my wealth would wake me,
If I do wake, ſome Planet ſrike me down,
That I may flumber in eternal ſleep.
Speak gentle Neece, what ſtern ungentle hands
Hath lop'd, and hew'd, and made thy body bare
Of her two branches, thofe ſweet Ornaments,
Whofe circling ſhadows, Kings have fought to ſleep in,
And might not gain ſo great a happineſs

As half thy love ? Why do'ſt not ſpeak to me ?
Alas, a Crimſon river of warm blood,
Like to a bubling fountain ſir'd with wind,
Doth rife and fall between thy Rofed lips,
Comming and going with thy hony breath.

But ſare ſome *Tereus* hath deflourde thee,
And left thou should'ſt detect them, cut thy tongue ;
Ah, now thou turn'ſt away thy face for ſhame !
And notwithſtanding all this loſs of blood,

As from a Conduit with their influing Spouts,
Yet do thy cheeks look ſad as *Titans* face,
Blushing to be encountred with a Cloud,
Shall I ſpeak for thee ? shall I ſay 'tis ſo ?
Oh that I knew thy heart, and knew the beaſt,
That I might rail at him to eafe my mind.

Sorrow concealed, like an Oven ſtopt,
Doth burn the heart to Cinders where it is.
Fair Philomela ſhe but loſt her tongue.

And in a tedious Sampler ſowed her mind.
But lovely Neece, that mean is cut from thee,
A craftier *Tereus* haſt thou met withall,
And he hath cut thofe pretty fingers off

That

630

Expecting ever when some envious surge,
Will in his briniſh bowels swallow him.
This way to death my wretched ſons are gone:
Here stands my other ſon, a baniſht man,
And here my brother weeping at my woes,
But that which gives my foul the greatest ſpurn
Is dear Lavinia, dearer than my foul.

Had I but feen thy picture in this plight,
It would have madd'd me. What ſhall I doe?
Now I behold thy lively body ſo?

Thou haſt no hands to wipe away thy tears,
Nor tongue to tell me who hath martyr'd thee;
Thy husband he is dead, and for his death
Thy brothers are condemn'd, and dead by this.

Look Marcus, ah ſon Lucius. Look on her:
When I did name her brothers, then fresh ſtears
Stood on her cheeks, as doth the hony dew,
Vpon a gath'red Lillie almost withered.

Mar. Perchance ſhe weeps becauſs they kil'd her husband,
Perchance becauſs ſhe knows him innocent.

Tit. If they did kill thy husband then be joyfull,
Becaufe the law hath tane revenge on them.
No, no, they would not doe ſo foul a deed,
Witneſs the ſorrow that their ſifter makes.

Gentle Lavinia let me kifſ thy lips,
Or make some ſignes how I may do thee eafe:
Shall thy good Uncle, and thy brother Lucius,
And thou and I fit round about some Fountain,
Looking all downwards to behold our cheeks
How they are ſtain'd in meadows yet not dry
With miery ſlime left on them by a flood:
And in the Fountain ſhall we gaze ſo long,
Till the fresh ſtake be taken from that cleerneſs,
And made a brine-pit with our bitter tears?
Or ſhall we cut away our hands like thine?
Or ſhall we bite our tongues, and in dumb ſhews
Paſs the remainder of our hatefull dayes?

What ſhall we doe? Let us that have our tongues
Plot ſome devife of further miferies

To make us wondred at in time to come.

Lu. Sweet Father caeſe your ſtears, for at your grief
See how my wretched ſifter ſobs and weeps.

Ma. Patience, dear Neece, good Titus drie thine eyes.

Tit. Ah Marcus, Marcus, Brother, well I wot,
Thy napkin cannot drink a tear of mine,
For thou poor man haſt drown'd it with thine own.

Lu. Ah my Lavinia! I will wipe thy cheeks.

Tit. Mark Marcus, mark, I understand her ſigns,
Had ſhe a tongue to ſpeak, now would ſhe ſay

That to her brother which I faid to thee.

His Napkin with her true teares all bewet,
Can do no ſervice on her ſorrowſul cheeks.

Oh what a ſympathy of woe is this !

As farſ from help as Limbo is from blifs.

Enter Aron the Moor alone.

Moor. Titus Andronicus, my Lord the Emperor,
Sends this word, that if thou love thy ſons,
Let Marcus, Lucius, or thy self old Titus,
Or any one of you chop off your hand,

And ſend it to the King: he for the fame,
Will ſend thee hither both thy ſons alive,

And that shall be the ransome for their fault.

Tit. Oh gracious Emperor, oh gentle Aaron.

Did ever Raven ſing ſo like a Lark,
That gives sweet tydings of the Suns upriſe?

With all my heart, Ile ſend the Emperor my hand,
Good Aaron wilt thou help to chop it off.

Lu. Stay Father, for that noble hand of thine.

That hath thrown down so many enemies,
Shall not be ſent: my hand will ſerve the turn.

My youth can better ſpare my blood than you,

And therefore mine shall fave my brothers lives.

Mar. Which of your hands hath not defended Rome,
And rear'd aloft the bloody Battelax,

Writing deftruction on the enemies Cattle?

Oh none of both but are of high defert:

My hand hath been but idle, let it ſerve

To ranſome my two Nephewes from their death,
Then have I kept it to a worthy end.

Moo. Nay come agree, whoſe hand shall goe along,
For fear they die before their pardon come.

Mar. My hand shall goe.

Lu. By heaven it shall not goe.

Ti. Sirs ſtrive no more, ſuch withered herbs as these
Are meet for plucking up, and therefore mine.

Lu. Sweet Father, if I ſhall be thought thy ſon,
Let me redeem my brothers both from death.

Mar. And for our fathers ſake, and mothers care,
Now let me ſhow a brothers love to thee.

Ti. Agree between you, I will ſpare my hand.

Lu. Then Ile goe, fetch an Ax.

Mar. But I will uſe the Ax.

Exeunt.

Ti. Come hither Aaron, Ile deceive them both,
Lend me thy hand, and I will give thee mine.

Moo. If that be call'd deceit, I will be honest,
And never whilft I live deceive men ſo:

But Ile deceive you in one fort,

And that you'l fay ere half an hower paſſ.

He cuts off Titus hand.

Enter Lucius and Marcus again.

Ti. Now flay your ſtrife, what ſhall be, is dispatch:

Good Aaron give his Majefly my hand,

Tell him, it was a hand that warded him

From thouſand dangers: bid him bury it:

More hath it merited: that let it have.

As for my ſons, ſay I account of them,

As jewels purchase at an eafe price,

And yet dear too, becauſe I bought mine owne.

Aaron. I goe Andronicus, and for thy hand

Look by and by to have thy ſons with thee:

Their heads I mean: Oh how this villany

Doth fat me with the very thought of it.

Let ſools doe good, and fair men call for grace,

Aaron will have his foul black like his face.

Exit.

Tit. O hear I lift this one hand up to heaven,
And bow this feeble ruine to the earth,
If any power pitties wretched tears,

To that I call: what wilt thou kneel with me?

Doe then dear heart, for heaven shall hear our prayers,

Or with our ſights weel breath the welkin dimm,

And flain the Sun with fogg as sometime clouds,

When they do hug him in their melting boſomes

Mar. Oh brother ſpeak with poffibilities.

And do not break into these deep extremes.

Ti. Is not my ſorrow deep, having no bottom?

Then

632

Speechleſs complaint, O I will learn thy thought.
In thy dumb action, will I be as perfect

As begging Hermits in their holy prayers.

Thou flalt not ſigh, nor hold thy flumps to heaven,
Nor wink, nor nod, nor kneel, nor make a ſign,
But I (of these) will wreſt an Alphabet,

And by ſtill practice, learn to know thy meaning.

Poy. Good Grandſire leave these bitter deep ſaments,
Make my Aunt merry, with ſome pleafing tale.

Mar. Alas, the tender boy in paffion mov'd,
Doth weep to ſee his Grandſires heavineſs.

An. Peace tender ſapling, thou art made of ſears,

And tears will quickly melt thy life away.

Marcus ſtrikes the diſh with an knife.

What doſt thou ſtrike at Marcus with thy knife ?

Mar. At thathat I have kill'd my Lord, a Fly

An. Out on thee murderour: thou killſt my heart.
Mine eyes are cloy'd with view of Tyranny:

A deed of death done on the Innocent

Becomes not Titus brother; get thee gone,

I fee thou art not for my company.

Mar. Alas (my Lord) I have but kill'd a Fly.

An. But? How if that ſlie had a father and Mother ?
How would he hang his ſlender gilded wings,

And bezp lamenting doings in the Ayr ?
Poor harmleſs Fly,

That with his pretty buzzing melody,

Game here to make us merry,

And thou haſt kill'd him.

Mar. Pardon me fir,

It was a black ill-favour'd Fly,

Like to the Empreſs Moor, therefore I kill'd him.

An. O, o, o,

Then pardon me for reprehending thee,
For thou haſt done a Charitable deed :

Give me thy knife, I will infult on him,
Flattering my ſelf, as if it were the Moor,

Come hither purpofely to poſſon me.

There's for thy ſelf, and that's for Tamora ; Ah firra,

Yet I think we are not brought ſo low,

But that between us, we can kill a Fly,

That comes in likeneſs of a Cole-black Moor.

Mar. Alas poor man, grief ha's ſo wrought in him,
He takes falſe shadows, for true ſubſtances.

And, Come, take away ; Lavinia, go with me,

Ile to thy cloſet, and go read with thee

Sad ſtories, chanced in the times of old.

Come boy, and go with me, thy fight is young,

And thou flalt read, when mine begin to dazel. Exeunt.

Actus Quartus.

Enter young Lucius and Lavinia running after him, and
the Boy flies from her with his books under his
arm. Enter Titus and Marcus.

Boy. Help Grandſire help, my Aunt Lavinia,
Follows me every where, I know not why.

Good Uncle Marcus fee how wiftely ſhe comes,
Alafs wift Aunt, I know not what you mean.

Mar. Stand by me Lucius, do not fear thy Aunt.

Tit. She loves thee boy too well to do thee harm.

Boy. I when my Father was in Rome ſhe did.

Ma. What means my Neece Lavinia by these ſigns ?

Tit. Fear not Lucius, fomewhat doth the mean :

See Lucius fee, how much the makes of thee :

Some whither would ſhe have thee go with her.

Ah boy, Cornelia never with more care

Read to her ſons, than ſhe hath read to thee,

Swe. t Poetry, and Tullies Oratour :

Can't thou not gueſs wherefore ſhe plies thee thus?

Boy. My Lord I know not, nor can I gueſſ

Unleſs ſome ſit or frenſy do poffeſs her :

For I have heard my Grandſire ſay full ofſ,

Extremity of grieſs would make men mad.

And I have read that Hecuba of Troy,

Ran mad through ſorrow, that made me to fear,

Although my Lord, I know my noble Aunt,

Loves me as dear as ere my Mother did,

And would not but in ſury fright my youth,

VWhich made me down to throw my books, and fly

Cauleſſs perhaps, but parron do poffeſs Aunt,

And Madam, if my Uncle Marcus go,

I moſt willingly attend your Lady-ſhip.

Mar. Lucius I will.

Ti. How now Lavinia? Marcus what means this?
Som book there is that ſhe defires to ſee,

VWhich is it girl of these ? Open them boy,

But thou art deeper read and better skill'd,

Come and take choice of all my Library,

And ſo beguile thy ſorrow, till the heavens

Reveal the damn'd contriver of this deed :

VWhat book ?

VWhy lifts ſhe up her arms in ſequence thus?

Mar. I think ſhe means that there was more than one
Confederate in the fact. I more there was :

Or eſſe to heaven ſhe heaves them to revenge.

Tit. Lucius what book is that ſhe toſſeth ſo ?

Boy. Grandſire tis Ovids Metamorphofis,
My mother gave it me.

Mar. For love of her that's gone,

Perhaps ſhe cull'd it from among the reſt.

Tit. Soft, ſo buſily ſhe turns the leaves.

Help her, what would ſhe find ? Lavinia ſhall I read?
This is the tragick tale of Philomel?

And treats of Tereus treaſon and his rape,

And rape I fear was root of thine annoy.

Mar. See brother fee, note how ſhe quotes the leaves.

Tit. Lavinia, wert thou thus ſurpriz'd wifted girl,
Ravifh'd and wrong'd as Philomela was,

Forc'd in the ruthleſſs, vaſt, and gloomy woods?

See, ſee, I ſuch a place there is where we did hunt,
(O had we never, never hunted there)

Patern'd by that the Poet here defcribes,

By nature made for murthers and for rapes.

Mar. O VWhy should nature build ſo foul a den,
Unleſs the Gods delight in tragedies ?

Tit. Give ſigns wifted girl, for here are none but friends,
VWhat Roman Lord it was durſt do the deed ?

Or flunk not Saturnine, as Tarquin erſt,

That left the Camp to ſin in Lucrece bed ?

Mar. Sit down wifted Neece, brother ſit down by me,
Apollo, Pallas, Jove, or Mercury,

Infire me that I may this treaſon find.

My Lord look here, look here Lavinia.

He writes his Name with his ſtaff, and guides it
with feet and mouth.

This fandy plot is plain, guide if thou canſt

This

635

Tis you must dig with Mattock and with Spade,
And peirce the inmost Center of the earth:
Then when you come to Plutoe's Region,
I pray you to deliver him this petition,
Tell him it is for Justice, and for aid,
And that it comes from old Andronicus,
Shaken with forrows in ungrateful Rome.
Ah Rome! Well, well, I made thee miferable,
What time I threw the peoples suffrages
On him that thus doth tyrannize ore me.
Go get you gone, and pry be carefull all,
And leave you not a man of war unsearcht,
This wicked Emperour may have shipt her hence,
And kinfmen then we may goe pipe for Justice.

Marc. O Publius, is not this a heavy cafe
to fee thy Noble Vncle thus diftraet?

Pub. Therefore my Lord it highly us concerns,
By day and night t'attend him carefully:
And feed his humour kindly as we may,
Till time beget some careful remedy.

Marc. Kinfmen, his forrows are paft remedy.
Jeyn with the Goths, and with revengefull war,
Take wreak on Rome for this ingratitude,
And vengeance on the Traytor Saturnine.

Tit. Publius how now ? how now my matters?
What have you met with her?

Pub. No my good Lord, but Pluto sends you word,
If you will have revenge from hell you shall,
Marry for Justice she is so employ'd,
He thinks with Love in heaven, or some where else:
So that perforce you must needs stay a time.

Tit. He doth me wrong to feed me with delays,
Ile dive into the burning Lake below,
And pull her out of Acheron by the heels.

Marc. We are but shrubs, no Cedars we,
Nobig-bon'd-men, fram'd of the Cyclops fize,
But metal Marcus, feel to the very back,
Yet wrung with wrongs more than our back can bear.
And fith there's no justice in earth nor hell,
We will follicit heaven, and move the Gods
To fend down justice for to wreak our wrongs :

Come to this gear, you are a good Archer Marcus.

He gives them the Arrows.

Ad Iovem, that's for you : here ad Apollonem,
Ad Martem that's for my self,

Here Boy to Pallas, here to Mercury,
To Saturnine, to Caius, not to Saturnine,
You were as good to shoot againſt the wind.

To it Boy, Marcus loofe when I bid :
Of my word, I have written to effect,
There's not a God left unfollicited.

Marc. Kinfmen, shoot all your shafts into the Court,
We will afflict the Emperour in his pride.

Tit. Now matters draw, Oh well ſaid Lucius :
Good boy in Virgoes lap, give it Pallas.

Marc. My Lord, I lay a Mile beyond the Moon.
Your letter is with Iupiter by this.

Tit. Ha, ha Publius, Publius, what haſt thou done ?
See, fee, thou haſt shot off one of Taurus horns.

Mar. This was the sport my Lord, when Pubius ſhot,
The Bull being gall'd, gave Aries ſuch a knock,
That down fell both the Rams horns in the Court,
And who ſhould find them but the Empreſs villain :
She laught, and told the Moor he ſhould not chooſe
But give them to his Maſter for a preſent.

Tit. Why there it goes, God give your Lordship joy.

Enter the Clown with a basket and two Pigeons.

Tit. News, news, from heaven.

Marcus the Poaſt is come.
Sirrah, what tydings ? have you any letters?

Shall I have Juitice, what ſays Iupiter?

Clow. Ho the Jibbetmaker, he ſays that he hath taken
them down again, for the man muſt not be hang'd
till the next week.

Tit. Tut what ſays Iupiter I ask thee?

Clow. Alas fir I know not Iupitcr :
I never drank with him in all my life.

Tit. Why villain art not thou the Carrier?

Clow. I of my Pigeons fir, nothing eſſe.

Tit. Why, didſt thou not come from heaven?

Clow. From heaven ? Alas fir, I never came there,
God forbid I should be so bold to preſ to heaven in my
young days. Why I am going with my pigeons to the
Tribunal Plebs, to take up a matter of brawl, betwixt
my vncle, and one of the Emperials men.

Mar. Why fir, that is as fit as can be to ſerve for your
Oration, and let him deliver the Pigeons to the Emperour
from you.

Tit. Tell me, can you deliver an Oration to the Em-
perour with a Grace?

Clow. Nay truly fir, I could never ſay grace in all my
life.

Tit. Sirrah come hither, make no more ado,
But give your Pigeons to the Emperour.
By me thou haſt have Juitice at his hands.
Hold, hold, mean while her's money for thy charges.
Give me a pen and ink.

Sirrah, can you with a Grace deliver a Supplication?

Clow. I fir,

Tit. Then here is a Supplication for you, and when
you come to him, at the ſirſt approach you muſt kneel,
then kifs his foot, then deliver up your Pigeons, and
then look for your reward. He be at hand fir, fee you do
it bravely.

Clow. I warrant you fir, let me alone.

Tit. Sirrah haſt thou a knife? Come let me fee it.
Here Marcus fold it in the Oration,
For thou haſt made it like an humble Suppliant,
And when thou haſt given it the Emperour,
Knock at my dore, and tell me what he ſays.

Clow. God be with you fir, I will.

Tit. Come Marcus, let us go, Publius follow me.

Exeunt.

Enter Emperour and Empreſſ, and her two ſons, the
Emperour brings the Arrows in his hand
that Titus ſhot at him.

Satur. Why Lords,
What wrongs are theſe ? was ever ſeen
An Emperour in Rome thus overborn,
Troubled, Confronted thus, and for the extent
Of equal Juitice, us'd in ſuch contempt ?
My Lords, you know the might full Gods
(How ever theſe diſturbers of our peace
Buz in the peoples ears) there nought hath paſt,
But even with law againſt the wilſul Sons
Of old Andronicus. And what and if
His forrows have ſo overwhelm'd his wits,
Shall we be thus afflіcted in his wreaks,
His fits, his frenzy, and his bitternefs ?
And now he writes to heaven for his redreſſ.
See, hereſe to Jove, and this to Mercury,

H h 2

This

["The Tragedy of Titus Andronicus.", "637", "And as I earneſtly did fix mine eye", "Vpon the waſt building, ſuddenfly", "I heard a child cry underneath a wall :", "I made unto the noife, when soon I heard,", "The crying babe control'd with this discourſe:", "Peace Tawny ſlave, half me, and half thy Dam;", "Did not thy Hue bewray whose brat thou art,", "Had nature lent thee but thy Mothers look,", "Villain thou mightſt have been an Emperour.", "But where the Bull and Cow are both milk-white,\nThey never doe beget a cole-black Calf.", "Peace, villain peace (even thus he rates the babe)", "For I muſt bear thee to a truſty Goth,\nWho when he knows thou art the Empreſs babe,\nWill hold thee dearly for thy Mothers ſake.", "With this, my weapon drawn I ruſht upon him,", "Surpriz'd him ſuddenly, and brought him hither,", "To ſife, as you think needfull of the man.", "Luci. Oh worthy Goth, this is the incarnat devil,", "That rob'd Andronicus of his good hand :", "This is the Pearl that pleaſ'd your Empreſs eye,", "And here's the Baſe Fruit of his burning luſt.", "Say wall-ey'd ſlave, whither wouldſt thou convey", "This growing Image of thy ſiend-like ſace ?", "Why doſt not ſpeak? what deaf? no! Not a word ?", "A halter Souldiers, hang him on this Tree,", "And by his ſide his Fruit of Baſtardy.", "Aaron. Touch not the Boy, he is of Royal blood.", "Luci. Too like the Syre for ever being good.", "Firſt hang the Child, that he may ſee it ſprall,", "A fight to vex the Fathers ſoul withall.", "Aaron. Get me a Ladder Lucius, ſave the Child,", "And bear it from me to the Empreſſes :", "If thou doſe this, I ſhouſt be wondrous things,", "That highly may advantage thee to hear;", "If thou wilt not, beſall what may beſall,", "Ile ſpeak no more: but vengeance rot you all.", "Luci. Say on, and if it pleaſe me which thou ſpeakſt,\nthy child ſhall live, and I will ſee it Nouriſht.", "Aaron. And if it pleaſe thee? why affure thee Lucius,\nTwill vex thy ſoul to hear what I ſhall ſpeak :", "For I muſt talk of Murthers, Rapes, and Maſſacres,", "Acts of Black-night, abhominable Deeds,", "Complots of Miſchief, Treason, Villanies", "Ruthfull to hear, yet pittiſhly perform'd,", "And this ſhall all be buried by my death,", "Vnleſs thou ſwear to me my Child ſhall live.", "Luci. Tell on thy mind,", "I ſay thy Child ſhall live.", "Aaron. Swear that he ſhall, and then I will begin.", "Luci. Who ſhould I ſwear by?", "Thou beleeveſt no God,", "That granted, how can't thou beleeve an oath ?", "Aaron. What if I do not, as indeed I do not,", "Yet for I know thou art Religious,", "And haſt a thing within thee called Conſcience,", "With twenty Popiſh tricks and Ceremonies,", "Which I have ſeen thee careful to obſerve :", "Therefore I urge thy oath, for that I know", "An Ideor holds his Bauble for a God,", "And keeps the oath, which by that God he ſwears,", "To that I urge him : therefore thou ſhalt vow", "By that fame God, what God ſo ere it be", "That thou adoreſt, and haſt in reverencē", "To ſave my Boy, Nouriſh and bring him up,", "Ore else I will discover nought to thee.", "Luci. Even by my God I ſwear to thee I will.", "Aaron. Firſt know thou,", "I begot him on thy Empreſſes.", "Luci. Oh moſt inſatiate luxurious Woman!", "Aaron. Tut Lucius, this was but a deed of Charity,\nTo that which thou haſt hear of me anon,", "Twas her two Sons that murdered Baffianus,", "They cut thy Sifters tongue, and Raviſht her,", "And cut her hands off, and trimm'd her as thou ſawſt.", "Luci. Oh dereſtable villain !", "Call'ſt thou that Trimming?", "Aaron. Why ſhe was waſht, and cut, and trimm'd,\nAnd twas trim ſport for them that had the doing of it.", "Luci. Oh barbarous beaſtly villains like thy ſelf !", "Aaron. Indeed, I was their Tutor to inſtruct them,\nThat Godding ſpirit had they from their Mothers,", "As ſure a Card as ever won the Set:", "That bloody mind I think they learn'd of me,", "As true a Dog as ever fought at head.", "Well, let my Deeds be witneſs of my worth.", "I trayn'd thy Bretheren to that guilefull Hole,", "Where the dead Corps of Baffianus lay:", "I wrote the Letter that thy Father found,", "And hid the Gold within the Letter mention'd.", "Confederate with the Queen, and her two Sons,", "And what not done that thou haſt cauſe to rue,", "Wherein I had no ſtroke of Miſchief in it.", "I plaid the Cheater for thy Fathers hand,", "And when I had it, drew my ſelf apart,", "And almoſt broke my heart with extreme laughter.", "I pried me through the Crevice of a Wall,", "When for his hand, he had his two Sons heads,", "Beheld his tears, and laught so heartily,", "That both mine eyes were rainy like to his:", "And when I told the Empreſſs of this ſport,", "She ſwooned almoſt at my pleafing tale,", "And for my tydings, gave me twenty kiffes.", "Goth. What can't thou ſay all this, and never bluſh?", "Aaron. I, like a black Dog, as the ſaying is.", "Luci. Art thou not ſorry for theſe hainous deeds?", "Aaron. I, that I had not done a thouſand more.", "Even now I curſe the day, and yet I think", "Few come within the compaſs of my curſe,", "Wherein I did not ſome Notorious ill,", "As kill a man, or elſe devife his death,", "Ravifh a Maid, or plot the way to doe it,", "Accuſe ſome innocent, and foriwear my ſelf,", "Set deadly Enmity between two Friends,", "Make poor mens Cattell break their necks,", "Set fire on Barns and Haystacks in the night,", "And bid the owners quench them with their tears :", "Oft have I dig'd up dead men from their graves,", "And fet them upright at their dear Friends doors,", "Even when their forrow almoſt was ſorg ſorg", "And on their skins, as on the Bark of trees,", "Have with my knife carved in Roman Letters,", "Let not your forrow dye, though I am dead.", "Tut, I have done a thouſand dreadfull things,", "As willingly, as one would kill a fly,", "And nothing grievs me heartily indeed,", "But that I cannot do ten thouſand more.", {"bbox": [454, 12

639

Tam. Well haſt thou leſſon'd us, this ſhall we do.
But would it pleaſe the good Andronicus,
To ſend for Lucius thy thrice Valiant Son,
VWho leads towards Rome a Band of VVartlike Gothes,
And bid him come and Banquet at thy houſe.
VWhen he is here, even at thy ſolemn Feaſt,
I will bring in the Empreſs and her Sons,
The Empereuur himſelf, and all thy Foes,
And at thy mercſhy ſhall they ſtoop, and kneel,
And on them ſhalt thou eade thy angry heart:
VWhat ſays Andronicus to this devil?

Enter Marcus.

Tit. Marcus my brother, 'tis ſad Titus calls,
Go gentle Marcus to thy Nephew Lucius,
Thou ſhalt enquire him out among the Gothes,
Bid him repair to me, and bring with him
Some of the chiefest Princes of the Gothes,
Bid him encamp his Souldiers where they are,
Tell him the Empereuur, and the Empreſs too,
Feaſts at my houſe, and he ſhall Feaſt with them;
This do thou for my love, and ſo let him,
As he regards his aged Fathers life.

Mar. What will I do, and ſoon return again.

Exit.

Tam. Now will I hence about thy buſineſs,
And take my Minifters along with me.

Tit. Nay, nay, let Rape and Murder ſtay with me,
Or eſſe I call my Brother back again,
And cleave to no revenge but Lucius.

Tam. What ſay you Boys, will you bide with him,
Whiles I go tell my Lord the Empereuur,
How I have govern'd our determined jeſt ?
Yield to his humour, ſmooth and ſpeak him fair,
And tarry with him till I turn again.

Tit. I know them all though they ſuppofe me mad,
And will ore-reach them in their own deviſes,
A pair of curſed helſ-hounds and their Dam.

Dem. Madam depart at pleasure, leave us here.

Tam. Farewell Andronicus, Revenge now goes

To lay a complot to berray thy Foes.

Tit. I know thou doſt, and ſweet Revenge farewel.

Chi. Tell us old man, how ſhall we be employ'd ?

Tit. Tut, I have work enough for you to do,

Publius come hither, Caius, and Valentine.

Pub. What is your will ?

Tit. Know you theſe two ?

Pub. The Empreſs Sons

I take them, Chiron, Demetrias.

Tit. Fie Publius ſie, thou art too much deceiv'd,
The one is Murder, Rape is the others name,
And therefore bind them gentle Publius,
Caius, and Valentine, lay hands on them,

Oft have you heard me wifh for ſuch an hour,

And now I find it, therefore bind them ſure.

Chi. Villains forbear, we are the Empreſs Sons.

Pub. And therefore do we, what we are commanded.
Stop cloſe their mouths, let them not ſpeak a word.
Is he ſure bound? look that you bind them ſaſt.

Exeunt.

Enter Titus Andronicus with a knife, and Lavinia
with a Bafon.

Tit. Come, come Lavinia, look, thy Foes are bound,
Sirs ſtop their mouths, let them not ſpeak to me,
But let them hear what ſeafuſ words I utter.

Oh Villains, Chiron, and Demetrias,
Here stands the ipring whom you have ſkin'd with mud,
This goodly Summer with your VVinter mixt,
You kill'd her husband, and for that vif't ſault,
Two of her brothers were condemn'd to death,
My hand cut off, and made a merry jeſt,
Both her ſweet hands, her Tongue, and that more dear
Than hands or tongue, her ſporeſſe Chaſtity,
Inhumane Traitors, you conſtrain'd and forſc'd.

VWhat would you ſay, if I should let you ſpeak ?
Villains for ſhame you could not beg for grace.

Heark VVretches how I mean to martre you,
This one Hand yet is left, to cut your throats,

VVhil't that Lavinia tween her ſtumps doth hold,
The Bafon that receives your guilty blood.

You know your Mother means to ſeaſt with me,
And calls her ſelf Revenge, and thinks me mad.

Heark Villains, I will grind your bones to duff,
And with your blood and it, He make a Paſt,

And of the Paſt a Coffin will I rear,

And make two Paſties of your ſhameſſed heads,

And bid that ſtrumper your unhallowed Dam,
Like to the earth ſwallow her own increaſe.

This is the ſeaſt that I have bid her to,
And this the Banquet ſhe ſhall ſurſet on,

For worſe than Philomel you us'd my Daughter,

And worſe than Prague, I will be reveng'd,

And now prepare your throats: Lavinia come,
Receive the blood, and when that they are dead
Let me go grind their Bones to powder ſmall,
And with this hatefull Liquor temper it,

And in that Paſt let their wild Heads be bak'd.

Come, come, be ever one officious,

To make this Banquet, which I wuſh might prove,

More ſtern and bloody than the Centaures Feaſt.

He cuts their throats.

So now bring them in, for Ile play the Cook,

And fee them ready, 'gainſt the Mother comes.

Exeunt.

Enter Lucius, Marcus, and the Gothes.

Luc. Uncle Marcus, ſince 'tis my Fathers mind
That I repair to Rome, I am content.

Goth. And ours with thine beſtall, what fortune will.

Luc. Good Unkle take you in this barbarous Moor

This Ravenous Tiger, this accuſed devil,

Let him receive no ſuſtenance, ſetter him,

Till he be brought unto the Empereuurs face,

For teſtimony of his foul proceedings.

And fee the Ambuſh of our Friends be ſtrong,

If ere the Empereuur means no good to us.

Aron. Some devil whiſper curſes in my ear,
And prompt me that my tongue may utter forth,
The Venemous Malice of my ſwelling heart.

Luc. Away inhumane Dogg, Unhallowed Slave,

Sirs help our Unkle, to convey him in,

Flourish

The Trumpets ſhew the Empereuur is at hand.

Sound Trumpets. Enter Empereuur, and Empreſſs, with
Tribunes and others.

Sat. VVhat, hath the firmament more Suns than one?

Luc. VVhat boots it thee to call thy ſelf a Sun ?

Mar. Romes Empereuur and Nephew break the partly
Theſe quaſrels muſt be quietly debated,

The Feaſt is ready which the careful Titus,

Hath

Hath ordained to an honourable end,
For Peace, for Love, for League, and good to Rome:
Please you therefore draw nigh and take your places.

Satur. Marcus we will.

Hoboy.
A Table brought in.

Enter Titus like a Cook, placing the meat on the Table, and Lavinia with a veil over her face.

Titus. Welcome my gracious Lord,
Weldome Dread Queen,
Welcome ye Warlike Gothes, welcome Lucius,
And welcome all: although the cheer be poor,
Twill fill your stomacks, pleafe you eat of it.

Sat. Why art thou thus attir'd Andronicus?

Tit. Because I would be sure to have all well,
To entertain your Highnefs, and your Empresfs.

Tam. We are beholding to you good Andronicus.

Tit. And if your Highnefs knew my heart, you were :
My Lord the Emperour refolve me this,

Was it will done of rath Virginius,
To flay his daughter with his own right hand,
Because he was enforc'd, ftain'd, and deflowrd ?

Satur. It was Andronicus.

Tit. Your reafon, Mighty Lord ?

Sat. Because the Girl should nor survive her fhame,
And by her prefence ſtill renew his forrows.

Tit. A reafon mighty, ſtrong, and effectual,
A pattern, prcfident, and lively warrant,
For me (moſt wretched) to perform the like :
Dye, dye, Lavinia, and thy ſhame with thee,
And with thy ſhame, thy Fathers forrow dye.

He kils her.

Sat. What haſt thou done, unnatural and unkind?

Tit. Kill'd her for whom my tears have made me blind.
I am as wofull as Virginius was,
And have a thoufand times more caufe than he.

Sat. What was the ravifht ? tell who did the deed.

Tit. Wilt pleafe you eat,

VVilt pleafe your Highneſs feed ?

Tam. Why haſt thou ſlain thine onely Daughter thus ?

Tit. Not I, twas Chiron, and Demetrius.

They ravifht her, and cut away her tongue,
And they, 'twas they, that did her all this wrong.

Satur. Goe fetch them hither to us prefentely.

Tit. Why there they are both, baked in that pye,
Whereof their Mother dantily hath fed,
Eating the flesh that the ſe herself hath bred.

Tis true, tis true, witneſs my knives ſharp point.

He ſtabſt the Empresſs.

Satu. Dye frantick wretch, for this accurſed deed.

Luc. Can the Sons eyes, behold his Father bleed ?
There's meed for meed, death for a deadly deed.

Mar. You fad-fac'd men, people, and Sons of Rome,
By uprore fever'd like a flight of Fowle,
Scattr'd by winds and high rempeſtuous guſts,
Oh let me teach you how, to knit again
This ſcattr'd Corn into one mutual ſheaf,
Theſe broken limbs again into one body.

Goth. Let Rome herſelf be bane unto herſelf,
And the whom mighty kingdoms curſe to,
Like a forlorn and desperate caſtaway,
Do ſhamefull execution on her ſelf.
But if my froſty ſignes and chaps of age,
Grave witneſſes of true experience,
Cannot induce you to attend my words,
Speak Romes dear friend, as'erſt our Anceſter,

When with his ſolemn tongue he did difcourſe
To love-fick Didoes ſad attending ear,
The ſtory of that bafeull burning night

When ſubtle Greeks ſurpriz'd King Priams Troy:
Tell us what ſimon hath bewitcht our ears,
Or who hath brought the fatal engine in,
That gives our Troy, our Rome the civil wound.
My heart is not compact of flint nor ſeel,
Nor can I utter all our bitter grief,
But floods of tears will drown my Oratory,

But floods of tears will drown my Oratory,
And break my very uttrance, even in the time
When it ſhould move you to attend me moſt,
Lending your kind hand Commifſeration.
Here is a Captain, let him tell the tale.

Here is a Captain, let him tell the tale.
Your hearts will throb and weep to hear him ſpeak.

Your hearts will throb and weep to hear him ſpeak.
Luc. This Noble Auditory, be it known to you,
That cuſed Chiron and Demetrius

Were they that murdred our Emperours Brother,
And they it were that ravified our Sifter,
For their fell faults our Brothers were beheaded,
Our fathers tears deſpif'd, and SAFely couzen'd
Of that true hand that fought Romes quarrell out,
And ſent her enemies unto the grave.

Lately, my ſelf unkindly banifhed,
The gates ſhut on me, and turn'd weeping out,
To beg relief among Romes Enemies,

Who drownd'd their enmity in my true tears,
And op'd their arms to imbrace me as a Friend:

And I am turned forth, be it known to you,
That have preferv'd her welfare in my blood,
And from her boſome took the Enemies point,
Sheathing the ſeel in my adventrous body.

Alas you know, I am no Vauunter I,
My ſcars can witneſſs, dumb although they are ;

That my report is juſt and fall of truth:
But ſoft, methinks I do digreſs too much,

Citing my worthleſs praeife: Oh pardon me,
For when no friends are by, men praeife themſelves.

Marc. Now is my turn to ſpeak: Behold this Child,
Of this was Tamora delivered,
The ilſue of an Irreligiouſ Moor,
Chief Architeet and plotter of theſe woes,
The Villain, is alive in Titus houſe,
And as he is, to witneſs this is true.
Now judge what courſe had Titus to revenge
Theſe wrongs, unspeakable paſt patience,
Or more than any living man could bear.

Now you have heard the truth, what ſay you Romans ?
Have we done ought amifs? ſhew us wherein,
And from the place where you behold us now,
The poor remainder of Andronicus,

Will hand in hand all headlong caſt us down,
And on the ragged ſtones beat forth our brains,
And make a mutual closure of our houſe;
Speak Romans ſpeak, and if you ſay we ſhall,
Lo hand in hand Lucius and I will fall.

Emili. Come come, thou reverent man of Rome,
And bring our Emperour gently in thy hand,
Lucius our Emperour: for well I know,
The common voice do cry it ſhall be ſo.

Mar. Lucius, all hail Romes Royal Emperour,
Go, go into old Titus ſorrowfull houſe,
And hither hale that misbelieving Moor,
To be adjud'd ſome direſſull ſlaughtering death,
As puniſhment for his moſt wicked life.

Lucius all hail to Romes gracious Governour.

Lucius

641

Luc. Thanks gentle Romans, may I govern so,
To heal Romes harms, and wipe away her wo.
But gentle people, give me asym a-while,
For Nature puts me to a heavy task:
Stand all aloof, but Vnckle draw you neer
To shed obequious tears upon this Trunk :
Oh take this warm kifs on thy pale cold lips,
Thefe forrowful drops upon thy blood-plain'd face,
The laft true Duties of thy Noble Son.

Mar. A tear for tear, and loving kifs for kifs,
Thy brother Marcus tenders on thy Lips:
O were the fum of thefe that I should pay
Countleſs, and infinit,yet would I pay them.

Luc. Come hither Boy, come, come, and learn of us
To meſt in flowrs: thy Grandſire lov'd thee well,
Many a time he danc'd thee on his knee:

Sung thee aſleep, his Loving Breſt, thy Pillow:
Many a matter hath he told to thee,
Meet, and agreeing with thine Infancy :
In that reſpect then, like a loving Child,
Shed yet ſome ſmall drops from thy tender Spring:
Because kind Nature doth require it for:

Friends should affoſat Friends, in Grief and Woe;
Bid him farwel, commit him to the Grave,
Do him that kindneſs, and take leive of him.

Boy. O Grandſire, Grandſire even with all my heart
Would I were Dead, fo you did! Live again.
O Lord, I cannot ſpeak to him for weeping,
My tears will choke me, if I ope my mouth.

Romans. You faſ Andronici, have done with woe,
Give ſentence on this execrable Wretch,
That hath been breeder of these diſe events.

Luc. Set him breſt deep in earth, and famifh him:
There let him stand, and rave, and cry for food:
If any one relieves, or pitties him,
For the offence, he dyes. This is our doom:
Some ſtay, to fee him faſtned in the earth.

Aaron. O why ſhould wrath be mute, and fury dumb?
I am no Baby I, that with bafe Prayers
I ſhould repent the Evils I have done.
Ten thouſand worse than ever yet I did,
Would I perform if I might have my will:
If one good Deed in all my life I did,
I doe repent it from my very Soul.

Luci. Some loving Friends convey the Emperor hence,
And give him buriall in his fathers grave.
My Father, and Lavinia, ſhall forthwith
Be cloſed in our Houſholds Monument:
As for that heynous Tyger Tamora,

No ſuneral Rite, nor man in mournful Weeds,
No mournful Bell ſhall ring her Burial:
But throw her forth to Beaſt and Birds of prey:
Her life was Beaſt-like, and devoid of pittry,
And being fo, ſhall have like want of pitry.

See juſtice done on Aaron that damn'd Moor,
From whom, our heavy haps had their beginning:
Then afterwards, to Order well the State.

That like Events my neer it ruinate.

Exeunt Omnues.

FINIS.

neſives.
This Child,

Romans?
in,
V,

n,
ins,
ll,

of Rome,
and,

pereur,
die,

nour.

Lucio

642

THE TRAGEDIE OF
ROMEO and JULIET.

Adus Primus. Scæna Prima.

Enter Sampson and Gregory, with Swords and Bucklers,
of the House of Capulets.

Sampson.

Regory. A my word we'l not carry coals.
Greg. No, for then we should be Colliers.
Samp. I mean, if we be in choler, we'l draw.
Greg. I while you live, draw your neck out
o'th'Collar.

Samp. I strike quickly, being mov'd.
Greg. But thou art not quickly mov'd to strike.
Samp. A dog of the house of Mountague, moves me.
Greg. To move, is to ftir: and to be valiant, is to stand:
Therefore, if thou art mov'd, thou runft away.

Samp. A dog of that house shall move me to stand:
I will take the wall of any Man or Maid of Mountagues.
Greg. That shews thee weak slave, for the weakest
goes to the wall.

Samp. True, and therefore women being the weakest
Veffells, are ever thrust to the wall; therefore I will push
Mountagues men from the wall, and thrust his Maids to
the wall.
(their men.)

Greg. The Quarrell is between our Masters, and us
Samp. Tis all one, I will thenew my self a tyrant: when
I have fought with the men, I will be civil with the
Maids, and cut off their heads.

Greg. The heads of the Maids?

Samp. I the heads of the Maids, or their maiden-heads,
Take it in what fenfe thou wilt.

Greg. They muft take it in fenfe that feel it.

Samp. Me they shall feel while I am able to stand:
And is known I am a pretty piece of flesh.

Greg. Tis well thou art not Fifth: if thou had'ft, thou
had'ft been poor John. Draw thy Tool, here comes of
the House of the Mountague.

Enter two other Servingmen.

Sam. My naked weapon is our: quarrel, I wil back thee.
Gre. How? Turn thy back and run?

Sam. Fear me not.

Greg. No marry : I fear thee.

Samp. Let us take the Law of our fides: let them begin.
Gr. I wilfrown as I paſs by, & let the take it as they lift.

Sam. Nay, as they dare. I will bite my Thumb at them,
which is a diftgrace to them, if they bear it.

Abra. Doe you bite your Thumb at us fir ?

Sam. I do bite my Thumb, fir.

Abra. Do you bite your Thumb at us fir ?

Sam. Is the Law of our fide, if I lay I ?

Gre. No.

Samp. No fir, I do not bite my Thumb at you fir: but
I bite my Thumb fir.

Greg. Do you quarrel fir ?

Abra. Quarrel fir ? no fir.

(as you,

Sam. If you do fir, I am for you, I serve as good a man

Abra. No bette ?

Sam. Well fir.

Enter Benvenuto.

Gre. Say better: here comes one of my maſters kinſmen.
Sam. Yes better.

Abra. You Lye.

Samp. Draw if you be men. Gregori, remember thy
wafhing blow.
They fight.

Ben. Part Fools, put up your Swords, you know not
what you do.

Enter Tibalt.

Tyba. What art thou drawn, among these heartleſs
Hinds? Turn thee Benvenuto, look upon thy death.

Ben. I do but keep the peace, put up thy Sword,
Or manage it to part these men with me.

Tyb. What draw, and talk of peace? I hate the word
As I hate hell, all Mountagues, and thee:
Have at thee Coward.
Fight.

Enter three or four Citizens with Clubs.

Offic. Clubs, Bils, and Partifons, ſtrike, beat them down,
Down with the Capulets, down with the Mountagues.

Enter old Capulet in his Gown, and his Wife.

Cap. What noise is this? Give me my long Sword ho?
Wife. A crutch, a crutch: why call you for a Sword ?
Cap. My Sword I lay : Old Montague is come,
And flourithes his Blade in spight of me.

Enter old Montague, and his wife.

Moun. Thou villain Capulet. Hold me not, let me go.

2. Wife. Thou shall not ftir a foot to seek a Foe.

Enter Prince Escalas with his Train.

Prin. Rebellious Subjects, Enemies to peace,
Prophaners of this Neighbor-stained Steel,
Will they not hear? What ho, you Men, you Beaſts,
That quench the fire of your pernicious Rage,
With purple Fountains influing from your Veins:
On pain of Torture, from these bloody hands
Throw your mistemper'd weapons to the ground,
And hear the Sentence of your moved Prince.
Three civi Broyls, bred of an Ayery word,
By thee old Capulet and Mountague

Have thrice diffurb'd the quiet of our streets,
And made Veron's ancient Citizens
Cadt by their Grave befeeming Ornament,

To wield old Partizans, in hands as old,

Cankred

646

The Tragedy of Romeo and Juliet.

Mer. Tut, dunc's the Moufes, the Confables own word:
If thou art dun, weele draw thee from the mire.
Or save your reverence love, wherein thou flicket
Up to the eares, come we burn day-light ho.

Rom. Nay that's not fo.

Mer. I mean fir I, delay.

We waft our lights in vain, lights, lights, by day;
Take our good meaning, for our Judgement fits
Five times in that, ere once in our fine wits.

Rom. And we mean well in going to this Mask,
But 'tis no wit to go.

Mer. Why may one ask ?

Rom. I dreamt a dream to night.

Mer. And fo did I.

Rom. Well what was yours ?

Mer. That Dreamers often lie.

Rom. In bed aſleep while they do dream things true.

Mer. O then I fee Queen Mab hath been with you :
She is the Fayries Midwife, and ſhe comes in ſhape no big-
ger then an Agat-stone, on the fore-finger of an Alderman,
drawn with a teem of little Atomies, over mens noſes as
they lie aſleep: her Waggon Spoke's made of long Spin-
ners legs: the Cover of the wings of Graſhoppers, her
Trace of the ſmallest Spiders web, her Collars of the
Moon-aines watry beames, her Whip of Creckets bone,
the Lath of ſime, her Waggoner, a ſmall gray-coated
Gnat, not half so big as a round little worm, pricct from
the Lazy-finger of a woman. Her Chariot is an empty
Hafelnut, made by the Joyner Squirrel or old Grub, time out
of mind, the Fayries Coach-makers: and in this ſtate ſhe
gallops night by night, through Lovers brains: and then
they dream of Love. On Countries knees, that dream on
Curſes ſtrait: ore Lawyers fingers, who ſtrait dream on
Fees, ore Ladies lips, who ſtrait on killes dream, which
oft the angry Mab with blitters plagues, because their
breath with Sweet meats tainted are. Sometime the gal-
lops ore a Couriers noſe, and then dreames he of ſmelling
our aſuit: and ſo time comes ſhe with a Tith-pigs tale,
tickling a Barons noſe as he lies aſleep, then he dreams
of another Benefice. Somtime the driveth ore a Souldiers
neck, and then dreames he of cutting Fortraign throats, of
Breaches, Ambuscadoes, Spanish Bides: Of Healths five
Fadom deep, and then anon drums in his eares, at which
he flarts and wakes, and being thus frighted, ſwears a
prayer or two, and ſleeps again: this is that very Mab that
plats the Manes of Horſes in the night: and bakes the Elf-
locks in foul flutteth haires, which once entangled, much
misfortune bodes.

This is the hag, when Maids lie on their backs,
That preſſes them, and learnes them firſt to bear, and
Making them women of good carriage :

This is the—

Rom. Peace, peace, *Mercenio*, peace.

Thou calk it of nothing.

Mer. True I talk of dreamers.

Which are the children of an idle brain,
Begot of nothing, but vain phantafie,
Which is as thin of ſubſtance as the Air,
And more unconſtant then the wind, who woeſ

Even now the frozen boſom of the North :
And being anger'd, puffes away from thence :

Turning his ſide to the dew dropping South.

Ben. This wind you talk of blowes us from our ſelves,
Supper is done, and we shall come too late.

Rom. I fear too early, for my mind migſives,
Some ſequenque yet hanging in the flars,

Shall bitterly begin his ſtearful date

With this nights revels, and expire the term
Of a deſpiled life clos'd in my breſt :

By ſome vile forſe of untimely death,
But he that hath the ſtrage of my courſe,
Direct my ſure: On ludy Gentlemen.

Ben. Strike Drum.

They march about the Stage, and Servingmen come for
with their napkins.

Enter Servant.

Ser. Where's Potpan, that he helps not to take away ?
He shift a Trencher ? He ſetape a Trencher.

1. When good Manners, ſhall lie in one or two mens
hands, and they unwaſt too, 'tis a foul thing.

Ser. Away with the Joyn-ſtooles, remove the Court-
cubbord, look to the Plate: good thou, ſave me a piece of
Marchpane, and as thou lovest me, let the Potter let in
Sujan Grindſtone, and Nell, Anthony and Potpan.

2. I Boy ready.

Ser. You are lookt for, cald for, askt for, and ſought for,
in the great Chamber.

1. We cannot be here and there too, chearly Boyes,
Be briska while, and the longer liver take all.

Exennt.

Enter all the Gueſts and Gentlemen to the
Maskers.

I Capu. Welcome Gentlemen,
Ladies that have their toes

Unplagu'd with Cornes, will walk about with you :

Ah me Mifſtreſſes, which of you all

Will now deny to dance ? She that makes dainty,
She Ile wear hath Cornes: am I come neer ye now ?

Welcome Gentlemen, I have been the day

That I have worn a Vifor, and could tell

A whispering tale in a fair Ladies care :

Such as would pleafe: 'tis gone, 'tis gone, 'tis gone,
You are welcom Gentlemen, come Muftians play :

Mufſick plaies: and they danſe.

A Hall, half, give room, and foot it Girles,

More light ye Knaves, and turn the Tables up :

And quench the fire, the Room is grown too hot.

Ah ſirrab, this unlooke for ſport comes well al

Nay fir, fir, fir, good Cozin Capulets,

For you and I, are paff our dancing daies :

How long 'till now ſince laſt your ſelf and I
Were in a Mask ?

2. Capu. Berlady thirty years.

I Capu. What man ! 'tis not so much, 'tis not so much,
'Tis ſince the Nuptial of *Lucentio*,
Come Pentecost as quickly as it will,

Some five and twenty years, and then we Maske.

2. Cap. 'Tis more, 'tis more, his Son is elder fir
His Son is cheiry.

3. Cap. Will you tell me that?

His Son was but a Ward two years ago.

Rom. What Lady is that which doth enrich the hand
of yonder Knight ?

Ser. I know not fir.

Rom. O the doth reach the Torches to burn bright:
Her beauty hangs upon the cheek of night,

Like an arch Jewel in an Eanthops ear.

Beauty too rich for uſe, for earth too dear :

So thews a Snowy Dove trooping with Crowes,

As yonder Lady ore her fellowes howes.

The measure done, Ile watch her place of land,
And touching hers, make bleſſed my rude hand.

Did

647

Did my heart love till novv, forsvwear it fight,
For I never saw true beauty till this night.

*Tib.* This by his voice should be a *Mountague*.
Fetch me my Rapier, Boy, what dares the five
Come hither cover'd with an antique face,
To fleet and corn at our Solemnity ?
Novv by the flock and honour of my kin.
To strike him dead ! hold it not a fin.

*Cap.* Why howv novv kinfman,
Wherefore storm you fo ?

*Tib.* Uncle this is a *Mountague*, our foe:
A Villain that is hither come in spight,
To corn at our Solemnity this night.

*Cap.* Young *Romeo* is it ?
*Tib.* 'Tis he, that Villain *Romeo*.
*Cap.* Content thee gentle *Coz*, let him alone,

A bears him like a portly Gentleman :
And to fay truth, *Verona* brags of him,
To be a vertuous and well govern'd youth :
*I would not for the wealth of all the town,
Here in my house do him di paragement :
Therefore be patient, take no note of him,
*I' is my vvill, the which if thou respect,
Shevv a fair prefence, and put off thefe frowns,
An ill befeeming semblance for a Feast.*

*Tib.* It fits vhen fuch a Villain is a guest,
Ile not endure him.

*Cap.* He shall be endur'd.
What Goodman-boy, I fay he shall, go to,
Am I the Mafter here or you ? go to,
Youle not endure him, God shall mend my foul,
Youle make a mutiny among the Guefts :
You will fet cock a hoop, youle be the man ?

*Tib.* Why Uncle 'tis a flame.
*Cap.* Go to, go to.

You are a faucy Boy, 'tis fo indeed ?
This trick may chance to fcauch you, I know what,
You muſt contrary me, marry 'tis time.
Well faid my hearts, you are a princox, goe,
Be quiet or more light, for flame,

Ile make you quiet. What, cheerly my hearts.
*Tib.* Patience perforce, with wilful choller meeting,
Makes my flefh tremble in their different greeting :
*I will withdraw, but this intrusion fhall
Now feeming ſweer, convert to bitter gall.*

*Rom.* If I prophane with my unworthieft hand,
This holy ſhrine, the gentle fin is this,
My lips two blufhing pilgrims ready ſtand,
To ſmooth that rough touch, with a tender kiffle.

*Juliet.* Good Pilgrim,
You do wrong your hand too much,
Which manerly devotion ſhews in this,
For Saints have hands, the Pilgrims hand, do touch,
And palme to palme, is holy Palmers kiffle.

*Rom.* Have not Saints Lipps, and holy Palmers too ?
*Juliet.* I Pilgrim, lips that they muſt uſe in prayer.
*Rom.* O then dear Saint let lips do what hands do,
They pray (grant thou) leaſt faith turn to defpair.

*Juliet.* Saints do not move,
Though grant for prayers fake.
*Rom.* Then move not while my prayers effect do take :
Taus from my lips, by thine my fin is purg'd.
*Juliet.* Then have my lips the fin that they have took,
*Rom.* Sin from my lips ? O trefpaffe fwoctly urg'd:
Give me my fin again.

I i i 2

["The Tragedy of Romeo and Juliet", "Mer. Romeo Humours, Madam, Passion, Lover,\nAppear thou in the like neffe of a fight,\nSpeak but one time, and I am satisfied :\nCry me but ayme, Couply but Love and day,\nSpeak to my Gofhip Vemse one fair word,\nOne Nickname for her purblind Son and her,\nYoung Abrahams Cupid he that shot so true,\nWhen King Cophetus lov'd the beggar-maid,\nHe heareth not, he stirreth not, he moveth not,\nThe Ape is dead, and I must conjure him,\nI conjure thee by Rosalines bright eies,\nBy her high forehead, and her Scarlet lip,\nBy her fine foot, straight leg, and Quivering thigh,\nAnd the Demeans that there adjacent lie,\nThat in thy like neffe thou appear to us.", "Ben. And if he hear thee, thou wilt anger him.", "Mer. This cannot anger him, 'twould anger him,\nTo raife a fitment in his Miftresſe circle,\nOf ſome ſtrange nature, letting it there ſtand\nTill ſhe had laid it, and conjur'd it down,\nThat were ſome ſpight.\nMy invocation is fair and hontef, and in his Miftrels name\nI conjure only but to raife up him.", "Ben. Come, he hath hid himſelf among theſe Trees\nTo be comforted with the Humerous night.", "Blind is his Love, and beſt beſits the dark.", "Mer. If Love be blind, Love cannot hit the mark,\nNow will he fit under a Medler tree,\nAnd with his Miftrels were that kind of Fruit,\nAs Maids call Medlers when they laugh alone,\nO Romeo that ſhe were, O that ſhe were\nAn open, or thou a Poprin Pear,\nRomeo goodnight, ile to my Truckle-bed,\nThis Field-bed is too cold for me to ſleep\nCome ſhall we go?", "Ben. Go then, for 'tis in vain to ſee him here —\nThat means not to be found.", "Exequens.", "Rom. He jeſts at ſcarres that never felt a wound,\nBut ſoft, what light through yonder window breaks?", "It is the Eaſt, and *Juliet* is the Sun,\nArife fair Sun, and kill the envious Moon,\nWho is already ſick and pale with grief,\nThat thou her Maid, art farre more fair then ſhe :\nBe not thy Maid ſince ſhe is envious,\nHer veſtall Livery is but ſick and green,\nAnd none but fools do wear it, caſt it off :", "It is my Lady, O it is my Love, O that ſhe knew ſhe were,\nShe ſpeaks, yet ſhe ſies nothing; what of that?", "Her eye diſcourſes, I will anſwer it:", "I am too bold, 'tis not to me she ſpeaks :", "Two of the faireſt Starrs in all the heaven,", "Having ſome buſineſſe do entreat her eies,", "To twinkle in their Spheres till they return.", "What if her eies were there, they in her head,", "The brightneſſe of her cheeke would ſhame that ſarres,\nAs day-light doth a Lamp, her eye in heaven,", "Would through the airy Region ſtream ſo bright,", "That Birds would ſing and think it were nor night:\nSee how she leans her cheek upon her hand.", "O that I were a Glove upon that hand.", "That I might touch that cheek.", "Juli. Aye me.", "Rom. She ſpeaks.", "Oh ſpeak again bright Angell, for thou art.", "As glorious to this night being ore my head,", "As is a winged meſſenger of heaven", "Unto the white upturned wondring eies", "Of mortalls that fall back to gaze on him,", "When he betrids the lazy puffing Clouds,", "And fails upon the bosom of the air.", "Juli. O Romeo, Romeo, wherefore art thou Romeo?", "Deny thy Father, and refuse thy name :", "Or if thou wilt not, be but ſworn my Love,", "And ile no longer be a Capulet.", "Rom. Shall I hear more, or shall I ſpeak at this?", "Juli. 'Tis but thy name that is my Enemy.", "Thou art thy ſelf, though not a Mountaſſe,", "What's Mountague ? it is nor hand nor foot,", "Nor armes, nor face, O be ſome other name.", "Belonging to a man.", "What's in a name ? that which we call a Rofe,", "By any other word would ſmell as ſweet,", "So Romeo would, were he not Romeo call'd", "Retain that dear perfection which he owes,", "Without that title Romeo, doffe thy name,", "And for thy name which is no part of thee,\nTake all my ſelf.", "Rom. I take thee at thy word :", "Call me but Love, and ile be new baptiz'd,", "Henceſt I never will be Romeo.", "Juli. What man art thou, that thus beſcome'd in night\nSo ſtumbleſt on my councell ?", "Rom. By a name,", "I know not how to tell thee who I am :", "My name dear Sainte, is harmful to my ſelf,", "Because it is an enemy to thee,", "Had I it written, I would tear the word.", "Juli. My ears have yet not drunk a hundred words\nOf thy tongues, uttering, yet I know the found.", "Art thou not Romeo, and a Mountague?", "Rom. Neither fair Maid, if either thee diſlike.", "Juli. How cam't thou higher.", "Tell me, and wherefore?", "The Orchard walls are high, and hard to climb,", "And the plate death, confidering who thou art,", "If any of my kinfmen find thee here.", "Rom. With Loves light wings", "Did I ore-perch theſe Walls,", "For ſtony Limits cannot hold Love out,", "And what Love can do, that dares Love attempt :", "Therefore thy kinfmen are no ſlop to me.", "Juli. If they do fee thee, they will murther thee.", "Rom. Alack there lies more peril in thine eie,", "Then twenty of their ſwords, look thou but ſweet,", "And I am proof againſt their emnity.", "Juli. I would not for the world they saw thee here.", "Rom. I have nights cloak to hide me from their eies", "And but thou love me, let them find me here,", "My life were better ended by their hate,", "Then death proroged wanting of thy Love.", "Juli. By whoſe direction found'ſt thou out this place?", "Rom. By Love that firſt did prompt me to enquire,", "He lent me counsel, and I lent him eies,", "I am no Pilot, yet were thou as far", "As that vaſt-ſhore : wath'd with the fartheſt Sea,", "I should adventure for ſuch Merchandife.", "Juli. Thou knoweſt the maske of night is one my ſea,", "Elle would a Maiden bluſh bepaint my cheek,", "For that which thou haſt heard me ſpeak to night,", "Fain would I dwell on ſorm, faſn, faſn, deny", "What I have spoke, but farewell Complements", "Dost thou Love ? O I know thou wilt ſay I,", "And", "And I will", "Thou maſ", "They ſay", "If thou do", "Or if thou", "lie frown", "So thou do", "In truth", "And the", "But truſt", "Then choſt", "I should", "But that", "My true", "And not", "Which th", "Rom.", "Juli.", "That tip", "Juli.", "That moſt", "Juli.", {"bbox": [1075, 554, 1118, 576], "category": "Text", "text

And I will take thy word, yet if thou swear it,
Thou mayest prove false, at Lovers perjures
They say *Jove* laughs, oh gentle *Romeo*,
If thou doth love, pronounce it faithfully:
Or if thou thinkest I am too quickly won,
Ile frown and be perverse, and say thee nay,
So thou wilt wooe: But elle not for the world.
In truth fair *Mountague* I am too fond:
And therefore thou maist think my haviour light,
But trust me Gentleman, Ile prove more true,
Then thofe that have more coyning to be ftrange,
I should have been more ftrange I muft confefs,
But that thou overheard it ere I was ware
My true Loves paffion, therefore pardon me,
And not impure this yielding to light Love,
Which the dark night hath fo discovered.

*Rom.* Lady, by yonder Moon I vow : That tips with filer all these Fruit-tree tops.

*Juli.* O swear not by the Moon, th'unconftant Moon,
That monethly changes in her circled Orbe,
Left that thy Love prove likewife variable.

*Rom.* What shall I wear by ?

*Juli.* Do not swear at all :
Or if thou wilt, swear by thy gracious self,
Which is the God of my Idolatry,
And Ile believe thee.

*Rom.* If my hearts dear love —

*Juli.* Well do not swear although I joy in thee,
I have no joy of this contract to night,
It is too rash, too unadvis'd, too fudden,
Too like the lightning which doth cease to be
Ere one can fay, it lightsens, Sweet good night :
This bud of Love by Summers ripening breath,
May prove a beauteous Flower when next we meet :

Goodnight : goodnight, as sweete repofe and reft,
Come to thy heart, as that vwithin my breft.

*Rom.* O wilt thou leave me fo unfatfied ?

*Juli.* What fatification can't thou have to night ?
*Rom.* That exchange of thy Loves faithful vow of mine.

*Juli.* I gave thee mine before thou didst requeft it :
And yet I would it were to give again.

*Rom.* Would it thou withdrew it ?

For what purpose Love?

*Juli.* But to be frank and give it thee again,
And yet I vvvith but for the thing I have,
My bounty is as boundleſs as the Sea,
My Love as deep, the more I give to thee,
The more I have, for both are infinite.

I hear fome noyfe vwithin, dear Love adieu.

Cals within.

Anon good Nurſe, ſwveet *Mountague* be true:
Stay but a little, I will come again.

*Rom.* O bleſſed bleſſed night, I am afear'd
Being in night, all this is but a dream,
Too flattering ſwveet to be ſubſtantial.

*Juli.* Three vvords dear *Romeo*,
And goodnight indeed,
If that thy bent of love be Honoutable,
Thy purpose marriage, fend me vvord to morrovy,
By one that Ile procure to come to thee,
Where, and wwhat time thou vvvilt perform the Rite,
And all my Fortunes at thy foot Ile lay,
And follow thee my Lord, throughout the world.

Enter.

*Within :* Madam.

*I come, anon : but if thou meaneſt not. vvell,
I do beſeech thee.*

*Within :* Madam

(By and by I come.)
To cease thy ſtrife, and leave me to my grief,
To morrow will I ſend.

*Rom.* So thrive my foul.

*Juli.* A thouſand times good night.

Exit.

*Rom.* A thouſand times the worſe to want thy light,
Love goes toward Love as school-boys from their books
But Love from Love, towards school with heavy looks,

*Enter Juliet again.*

*Juli.* Hift *Romeo* hift : O for a Falkners voice,
To lure this Taflel gentle back again,
Bondage is hoarſe, and may not ſpeak aloud,
Elſe would I tear the Cave where Ecco lies,
And make her ayry tongue more hoarſe, then with
The repetition of my *Romeo*.

*Rom.* It is my foul that calls upon my name.
How filer sweet, found Lovers tongues by night,
Like foſſteſt Mufick to attending cares.

*Juli.* *Romeo.*

*Rom.* My sweet.

*Juli.* What a clock to morrow
Shall I ſend to thee?

*Rom.* By the hour of Nine.

*Juli.* I will not fail, 'tis twenty years till then,
I have forgot why I did call thee back.

*Rom.* Let me ſtand here till thou remember it.

*Juli.* I ſhall forget, to have thee ſtill ſtand there,
Remembring how I love thy company.

*Rom.* And Ile ſtill ſlay, to have thee ſtill ſeep,
Forgetting any other name but this.

*Juli.* 'Tis almost morning, I would have thee gone.
And yet no further then a wantons Bird,

That lets it hop a little from his hand,
Like a poor prifoner in his twifled Gyves,
And with a filken thred plucks it again,
So loving jealous of his liberty.

*Rom.* I would I were thy birds.

*Juli.* Sweet so would I,
Yet I should kill thee with much cheriſhing
Goodnight, goodnight.

*Rom.* Parting is ſuch sweet ſorrow,
That I ſhall fay goodnight till it be morrow.

*Juli.* Sleep dwell upon thine eyes, peace in thy breſt.

Exit.

*Rom.* Would I were ſleep and peace ſo sweet to reſt,

The gray-ey'd morne ſmiles on the frowning night,
Checkring the Eastern Clouds with ſtreaks of light,
And darkneſs fleckel'd like a drunkard reeles,
From forth dayes pathway, made by *Titans* wheeles.
Hence will I to my Ghoſtly Friars cloſe Cell,
His help to crave, and my dear hip to tell.

Exit.

*Enter Frier alone with a basket.*

*Fri.* Now ere the Sun advance his burning eye,
The day to chear, and nights dank dew to dry,
I muſt up-ſil this Oſer Cage of ours,
With baleful weeds, and precious juyced flowers,
The earth that's Natures mother, is her Tomb,
What is her burying grave that is her womb :
And from her vvomb children of divers kind

Iii3

We

["650", "The Tragedy of Romeo and Juliet.", "We fucking on her natural bofom find :\nMany for many vertues excellent :", "None but for fome, and yet all different.", "O mickle is the powerful grace that lies", "In Plants, Herbs, flones, and their true qualities :", "For nought fo vile, that on the earth doth live,", "But to the earth fome ſpecial good doth give.", "Nor ought he good, but ftrain'd from that fair uſe,", "Revolts from true birth, flumbling on abufe.", "Vertue it self turnes vice being miſapplied.", "And vice sometime by action dignified.", "Enter Romeo.", "Within the infant rind of this weak flower,\nPoyſon hath refidence, and medicine power :", "For this being ſmelt, with that part cheares each part,\nBeing taſted flayes all fences with the heart.", "Two ſuch oppoſt Kings encamp them ſtill,", "In man as well as he, the grace and rude will:", "And where the worſer is predominant,", "Full ſoon the Canker death eats up that Plant.", "Rom. Good morrow Father.", "Fri. Benedicite.", "What early tongue ſo ſweet falure them ?", "Young Son, it argues a diſtempered head,", "So ſoon to bid good morrow to thy bed ;", "Care keeps his watch in every old man's eye,", "And where Care lodgeth, ſleep will never lie :", "But where unbruſed youth with unſluſt brain", "Doth couch his limbs, there golden ſleep doth raign;", "Therefore thy earlinſes doth me afflure,", "Thou art up-rouz'd with ſome diſtemperature ;", "Or if not ſo, then here I hit it right.", "Our Romeo hath not been in bed to night,", "Rom. That laſt is true, the ſweeter reſt was mine.", "Fri. God pardon ſin : waſt thou with Rofaline ?", "Rom. With Rofaline, my Ghoſtly Father ? No,", "I have ſorged that name, and that Name's woe.", "Fri. That's my good Son, but where haſt thou been then?", "Rom. Ile tell thee ere thou ask it me agen :", "I have been feaſting with mine enemys,", "Where on a ſudden one hath wounded me,", "Thaſs by me wounded : both our remedies", "Within thy help and holy phyſick lies :", "I bear no hatred, bleſſed man : for lo", "My interceſſion likewife ſeads my foe.", "Fri. Be plain good Son, reſt homely in thy drifts,", "Ridling conſeſſion, finds but ridling ſtrift.", "Rom. Then plainly know my hearts dear Love is ſet,", "On the fair daughter of rich Capulet :", "As mine on hers, ſo hers is ſet on mine ;", "And all comin'd, ſave what thou muſt combine", "By holy marriage : when, and where, and how,", "We met, we woode, and made exchange of vow :", "Ile tell thee as we pafs, but this I pray,", "That thou conſent to marry us to day,", "Fri. Holy S. Francis, what a change is here ?", "Is Rofaline that thou didſt love ſo dear", "So ſoon forſaken ? young mens Love then lies", "Not truly in their hearts, but in their eyes.", "Jeu Maria, what a deal of brine", "Hath waſt thy fallow cheeks for Rofaline ?", "How much salt water thrown away in waſt,", "To ſeaſon Love, that of it doth not taſt.", "The Sun not ver thy higbes, from heaven cleares,", "Thy old groans yet ring in my ancient eares ;", "Lo here upon thy check the ſtain doth fit,", "Of an old tear that is not waſt off yet.", "If ere thou waſt thy ſelf, and theſe woes thine,", "Thou and theſe woes were all for Rofaline.", "And art thou chang'd? pronounce this ſentence then", "Women may fall, when there's no ſtrength in men.", "Rom. Thou chid't me oft for loving Rofaline.", "Fri. For doting, not for loving, pupil mine.", "Rom. And bad't me bury Love.", "Fri. Not in a grave,", "To lay one in, another out to have.", "Rom. I pray thee chide me nor, her I Love now", "Doth grace for grace, and Love for Love allow :", "The other did not ſo.", "Fri. Oh the knew well,", "Thy Love did read by rote, that could not ſpell :", "But come young waverer, come go with me,", "In one reſpect, Ile thy affaſtant be :", "For this alliance may ſo happy prove,", "To turn your household rancord to pure Love.", "Rom. O let us hence, I ſtand on ſudden haſt.", "Fri. Wisely and flow, they ſtumble that run faſt.", "Exeunt.", "Enter Bennuelo and Mercutio.", "Mer. Where the devil should this Romeo be ? came he not home to night ?", "Ben. Not to his Fathers, I spoke with his man.", "Mer. Why that fame pale hard-hearted wench, that Rofaline torments him ſo, that he will ſure run mad.", "Ben. Tibaji, the kinfman to old Capulet, hath ſent a Letter to his Fathers houſe.", "Mer. A challenge on my life.", "Ben. Romeo will anſwer it.", "Mer. Any man that can write, may anſwer a Letter.", "Ben. Nay he will anſwer the Letters Maſter how he dares, being dařed.", "Mer. Alas poor Romeo, he is already dead, ſab'd with a white wenches black eye, run through the ear with a Love ſong, the very pin of his heart, cleft with the blind Bow-boyes-but-ſhaft, and is he a man to encounter Tybaji ?", "Ben. Why what is Tybaji ?", "Mer. More then Prince of Cats. Oh he's the Courageous Captain of Complements : he fights as you ſing prickſong, keeps time, diſtance, and proportion, he reſts his minum, one, two, and the third in your Boſom : the very buſcher of a ſilk burton, a Dualiſt, a Dualiſt : a Gentleman of the very firſt houſe of the firſt and ſeconſ cauſe : ah the immortal paſſado, the punto rever ſo, the Hay.", "Ben. The what ?", "Mer. The Pox of ſuch antique lifping affecting phantases, theſe new tuners of accent : Jefu a very good blade, a very tall man, a very good whole. Why is not this a laſmentable thing Grandſire, that we ſhouſd be thus afflicted with theſe ſtrange flies : theſe fashion-mongers, theſe párdon-me's, who ſtand ſo much on the new ſorm, that they cannot fit at eafe on the old bench. O their bones, their bones.", "Enter Romeo.", "Ben. Here comes Romeo, here comes Romeo.", "Mer. Without his Roe, like a ſoned Herring. O ſleſh, ſleſh, how art thou ſiſhſiſed ? Now is he for the numbers that Petrarch ſlowed in : Laura to his Lady was a Kitchen wench, marry he had a better Love to berime her : Dido a dowdy, Cleopatra a Gipſie, Hellen and Hero, bildings and harlors : Thisby a gray eye or ſo, but not to the purpofe Signio: Romeo, Bonjeu, there's a French falutation to your French", "French", "Rom.", "I give", "Rom.", "fuch a", "Rom.", "fatin's", "Rom.", "Me", "Rom.", {"bbox": [1084, 323, 1118, 345], "category": "Text",

651

French flop: you gave us the counterfeit fairly last night.

Romeo. Good morrow to you both, what counterfeit did I give you?

Mer. The flip fit, the flip, can you not conceive ?

Rome. Pardon Mercutio, my businesse was great, and in
fuch a cafe as mine, a man may train courfie.

Mr. That's as much as to say, fuch a cafe as yours con-
ftains a man to bow in the hams.

Rome. Meaning to courteſe.

Mr. Thou haſt moſt kindly hit it.

Rome. A moſt courteous expofition.

Mr. Nay, I am the very pink of courteſe.

Rome. Pinke for flower.

Mr. Right.

Rome. Why then is my Pump well flow'd.

Mr. Sure wit, follow me this jeaſt, now till thou haſt
worn out thy Pump, that when the fingle sole of it is
worn, the jeaſt may remain after the wearing, fol-
ſingular.

Rome. O fingle fol'd jeſt,

Soly ſingular, for the ſinglenesse.

Mr. Come between us good Benuolio, my wit faints.

Rome. Swits and Spurres,

Swits and Spurs, or ile cry a match.

Mr. Nay, if our wits run the wild-Goofe chafe, I am
done: For thou haſt more of the Wild-Goofe in one of
thy wits, then I am ſure. I have in my whole five. Was I
with you there for the Goofe ?

Rome. Thou was never with me for any thing, when
thou waſt not there for the Goofe.

Mr. I will bite thee by the ear for that jeſt.

Rome. Nay, good Goofe bite not.

Mr. Thy wit is a very bitter-tweeting,
It is a moſt sharp fawce.

Rome. And is it not well ſerv'd into a ſweet Goofe ?

Mr. Oh here's a wit of Cheverell, that ſtretches from
an ynch narrow, to an ell broad.

Rome. I ſtretch it out for that word, broad, which added
to the Goofe, proves the farre and wide, abroad Goofe.

Mr. Why is not this better now, then groaning for
Love, now art thou ſociable, now art thou Romeo: now art
thou what thou art, by Art as well as by Nature, for this
driving Love is like a great Natural, that runs lolling
up and down to hide his bable in a hole.

Ben. Stop there, ſtop there.

(hair)

Mr. Thou defirſt me to ſtop in my Tale againſt the
Ben. Thou wouldst eſſe have made thy tale large.

Mr. O thou art deceiv'd, I would have made it short,
or I was come to the whole depth of my Tale, and meant
indeed to occupy the argument no longer.

Enter Nurse and her man.

Rome. Here's goodly geare.

A fayle, a fayle.

Mr. Two, two: a Shirt and a Smock.

Nur. Peter ?

Peter. Anon.

Nur. My Fan Peter ?

Mr. Good Peter to hide her face:

For her Fan's the fairer face ?

Nur. God ye good morrow Gentlemen.

Mr. God ye gooden fair Gentlemen,

Nur. Is it gooden ?

Mr. *Tis no leſſe I tell you: for the bawdy hand of the
Dyll is now upon the prick of Noon.

Nur. Out upon you: what a man are you ?

Rome. One Gentlewoman,

That God hath made, himſelf to, mar.

Nur. By my troth it is ſaid, for himſelf to; that qua-
tha Gentleman, can any of you tell me where I may find
the young Romeo ?

Romeo. I can tell you: but young Romeo will be older
when you have found him, then he was when you fought
him: I am the youngeſt of that name, for fault of a worſe.

Nur. You ſay well.

Mr. Yea is the worst well.

Very well took: Iſaith, wifely, wifely.

Nur. If you be he fir,

I defire ſome confidence with you?

Ben. She will invite him to ſome Supper.

Mr. A baud, a baud, a baud. So ho.

Rome. What haſt thou found?

Mr. No Hare fir, unleſſe a Hare fir in a Lenten pie,
that is ſomething ſtale and hoare ere it be ſpent.

An old Hare hoar, and an old Hare hoar is very good meat
in Lent.

But a hare that is hoar, is too much for a ſcore, when it
hoars ere it be ſpent,

Romeo will you come to your Fathers? Wee't to dinner
thither.

Rome. I will follow you.

Mr. Farewell auncient Lady :

Farewell Lady, Lady, Lady.

Exit. Mercutio, Benuolio.

Nur. I pray you fir, what ſawcy Merchant was this that
was ſo full of his ropery ?

Rome. A Gentleman Nurſe, that loves to hear himſelf
talk, and will ſpeak more in a minute, then he will ſtand
to in a Moneth.

Nur. And a ſpeak any thing againſt me, ile take him
down, and a were luſtier then he is, and twenty ſuch Jacks:
and if I cannot, ile find that ſhall: ſcurvy knave, I
am none of his flutt-gils, I am none of his skains mates
and thou muſt ſtand by too and ſuffer every knave to uſe
me at his pleafure.

Pet. If Iaw no man uſe you at his pleafure: if I had, my
weapon ſhould quickly have been out, I warrant you, I
dare draw as ſoon as another man, if I fee occafion in a
good quarrell, and the Law on my ſide.

Nur. Now afore God, I am to vex; that every part about
me quivers, skutvy knave: pray you fir a word: and as I
told you, my young Lady bid me enquire you out, what
the bid me ſay I will keep to my ſelf: but firſt let me tell
ye, if ye ſhould lead her in a fools paradife, as they ſay,
it were a very groſſe kind of behaviour, as they ſay: for
the Gentlewoman is young, and therefore, if you ſhould
deal double with her, truly it were an ill thing to be of-
fered to any Gentlewoman, and very weak dealing.

Rome. Nurſe commend me to thy Lady and Mitriffs, I,
proreſt unto thee—

Nur. Good heart, and Iſaith I will ſell her as much:
Lord, Lord, he will be a joyful woman.

Rome. What wilt thou tell her Nurſe ? thou doſt not
mark me?

Nur. I will tell her fir, that you do proreſt, which as I
take it, is a Gentleman-like offer. (afternoon,

Rome. Bid her devife ſome means to come to ſhrift this
And there ſhe ſhall at Friert Lawrence Cell

Befriev'd and married: here is for thy pains.

Nur. No truly fir not a penny.

Rome. Go to I ſay you ſhall.

Nurſe

Nur. This afternoon Sir? well she shall be there.

Rom. And fly thou good Nurfe behind the Abby-wall,
Within this hour my man shall be with thee,
And bring the Cords made like a tackled ftair,
Which to the high top gallant of my joy,
Must be my convoy in the secret night.

Farewell, be trufty, and ile quite thy pains :

Farewell, commend me to thy Miftres.

Nur. Now God in heaven bleſſe thee: hark you fir,

Rom. What faſt thou my dear Nurfe ?

Nur. Is your man secret, did you nere hear ſay two may
keep counsel putting one away.

Rom. I warrant thee my man as true as fleet.

Nur. Well fir, my Miftres is the sweeteſt Lady, Lord,
Lord, when 'twas a little prating thing. O there is a No-
ble man in Town on Paris, that would faim lay knife a-
board: but ſhe good foul, had as leeve ſee a Toad, a very
Toad as ſee him: I anger her ſometimes, and tell her that
Paris is the properer man, but ile warrant you, when I ſay
ſo, ſhe looks as pale as any clout in the verſal world, doth
not Roſemary and Romeo begin both with a letter ?

Rom. I Nurfe, what of that? both with an R.

Nur. A mocker that's the dogs name. R. is for the no,
I know it begins with ſome other letter, and ſhe hath the
prettieſt ſententious of it, of you and Roſemary, that it
would do you good to hear it.

Rom. Commend me to thy Lady.

Nur. I a thouſand times. Peter ?

Pet. Anon.

Nur. Before and apace.

Exit Nurſe and Peter.

Enter Juliet.

Juli. The clock trook nine, when I did ſend the Nurſe,
In half an hour ſhe promiſed to return,
Perchance ſhe cannot meet him: that's not ſo:
Oh ſhe is Lame, Loves Herald ſhould be thoughts,
Which ten times after glides then the Sunnes beams,
Driving back ſhadows over lowring hills.
Therefore do nimble Pinnion'd Doves draw Love,
And therefore hath the wind-ſwift Cupid wings:
Now is the Sun upon the highmoſt hill
Of this daies journey, and from nine till twelve,
I three long hours, yet ſhe is not come:
Had ſhe affections and warm youthful blood,
She'd be as ſwift in motion as a ball,
My words would bandy her to my ſweet Love,
And his to me, but old folks,
Many faim as they were dead,
Unwieldy, flow, heavy, and pale as leid.

Enter Nurſe.

O God ſhe comes, O honey Nurſe what news ?
Haſt thou met with him ? ſend thy man away.

Nur. Peter ſlay at the gate.

Juli. Now good ſweet Nurſe :

O Lord why looks thou ſad ?

Though news be ſad, yet tell them merrily.

If good thou ſham it the muſick of ſweet news,

By playing it to me, with ſo lower a face.

Nur. I am a weary, give me leave a white,

Fie how my bones'ake, what a jaunt have I had ?

Juli. I would thou haſt my bones and I thy news :

Nay come I pray thee ſpeak, good Nurſe ſpeak.

Nur. Jefu what haſte ? can you not ſlay a while ?

Do you not fee how I am out of breath ?

Juli. How art thou out of breath, when thou haſt breath
To ſay to me, that thou art out of breath ?
The excufe that thou doſt make in this delay,

Is longer then the tale thou doſt excufe.

Is thy news good or bad ? anwer to that,

Say either, and ile ſay the circumſtance :

Let me be ſatisfied, it good or bad ?

Nur. Well, you have made a ſimple choice, you know
not how to chufe a man : Romeo, no not he though his face
be better then any mass, yet his legs excells all mens, and
for a hand and a foot, and a bawdy, though they be not to
be talkt on, yet they are pafft compare: he is not the flower
of courteſie, but I warrant him as gentle a Lamb: go thy
waies wench, ſerve God, what have you didn at home.

Juli. No, no; but all this did I know before.

What faies he of our marriage ? what of that ?

Nur. Lord how my headakes, what a head have I :

It hears as it would fall in twenty pieces.

My back a tother ſide: O my back, my back :

Belbrew your heart for ſending me about

To catch my death with jaunting up and down.

Juli. Iſaith I am forſy that thou art ſo ill,

Sweet, sweet, sweet Nurſe, tell me what faies my Love ?

Nur. Your Love faies like an honest Gentleman,

And a courteous, and a kind, and a handom

And I warrant a vertuous : where is your Mother ?

Juli. Where is my Mother ?

Why ſhe is within where should ſhe be ?

How oſly thou reply'ſt :

Your Love faies like an honest Gentleman:

Where is my Mother ?

Nur. O Gods Lady dear,

Are you ſo hot ? marry come up I trow,

Is this the Poults for my aking bones ?

Hence forward do your meſlages your ſelſe.

Juli. Here's ſuch a coil, come what faies Romeo ?

Nur. Have you got leave to go to ſhrift to day ?

Juli. I have.

Nur. Then high you hence to Frier Lawrence Cell,
There ſtaies a Husband to make you a wife :
Now comes the wanton blood up in your cheeks,
They'll be in Scarlet ſtraight at any news :
Hie you to Church, I muſt another way,
To fetch a Ladder by the which your Love :
Muſt climb a birds neſt ſoon when it is dark :
I am the drudge, and toil in your delight :
But you ſhall bear the burthen ſoon at night,
Go ile to dinner, hie you to the Cell

Juli. Hie to high Fortune, honest Nurſe, farewell.

Exeunt.

Enter Frier and Remeo.

Fri. So ſmile the heavens upon this holy act,
That after hours, with ſorrow chide us not.

Rom. Amen, amen, but come what ſorrow can,
It cannot countervail the exchange of joy.

That one ſhort minute gives me in her fight :

Do thou but cloſe our hands with holy words,

Then Love devouring death do what he dare,

It is enough. I may but call her mine.

Fri. Theſe violent delights have violent ends,
And in their triumph die like fire and powvder;
Which as they kiffe confume. The ſweeteſt honey
Is loathome in his own deliciouſneſſe,
And in the taſte confounds the appetite.
Therefore Love moderately, long Love doth ſo,
Too ſwift arrives as tardy as too flow.

Enter Julliet.

Here comes the Lady. Oh ſo light a foot

Will nere wwear out the everlaſting flint;

A

A Lover may bestride the Goffamours,
That idles in the wanron Summer ayr,
And yet not fall, so light is vanity.

Juli. Good even to my ghostly Confessor.

Fri. Romeo shall thank thee Daughter, for us both.

Juli. As much to him, else in his thanks too much.

Rom. Ah Juliet, if the measure of thy joy

Be heapt like mine, and that thy skill be more.

To blafon it, then sweeten with thy breath.

This neighbour ayr, and let rich Mufickes tongue,
Unfold the imagin'd happineſs that both
Receive in either, by this dear encounter.

Juli. Conceit more rich in matter then in words,
Brags of his juſtance, not of Ornament:

They are but beggars that can count their worth,

But my true Love is grown to such exceſſ,
I cannot ſum up some of half my wealth.

Fri. Come, come with me, &c we will make short work,
For by your leaves, you shall not stay alone,
Till holy Church incorporate two in one.

Exeunt.
Easter Mercutio, Bennolio, and men.

Ben. I pray thee good Mercutio lets retire,

The day is hot, the Capulets abroad :

And if we meet, we shall not ſcape a brawl, for now these
hot dayes is the mad blood ſpirring.

Mr. Thou art like one of these fellows, that when
he enters the confines of a tavern, claps me his sword up-
on the table, and faies, God fend me no need of thee : and
by the operation of the ſecond Cup, drawes him on the
Drawing, when indeed there is no need.

Ben. Am I like such a fellow ?

Mr. Come, come, thou art as hot a Jack in thy mood,
as any in Italy ; and a ſoon moved to be moody, and as
ſoon moody to be mov'd.

Ben. And what too ?

Mr. Nay, and there were two ſuch, we ſhould have
none ſhortly, for one would kill the other : thou, why thou
wilt quarrel with a man that hath a hair more, or a hair
leſs in his heard, then thou haſt : thou wilt quarrel with a
man for cracking Nuts, having no other reafon, but be-
cauſe thou haſt haſel eyes ; what eye, but ſuch an eye,
would ſpy out ſuch a quarrel ? thy head is as full of quar-
rels, as an egge is full of meat, and yet thy head hath bin
beaten as addle as an egge for quarrelling : thou haſt quar-
lell'd with a man for coſſing in the ſtreet, becauſe he hath
wakened thy dog that hath lain aſleep in the Sun. Did ſt
thou not fall out with a Tailor for wearing his new Doub-
let before Eafter ? with another, for tying his new ſhoes
with old Ribband, and yet thou wilt Tutor me from quar-
telling ?

Ben. And I were ſo apt to quarrel as thou art, any man
should buy the Fee-fimple of my life, for an hour and a
quarter.

Mr. The Fee-fimple ? O ſimple !

Enter Tybalt, Petruchio, and others.

Ben. By my head here come the Capulets.

Mr. By my heel I care not.

Tib. Follow me close, for I will ſpeak to them.

Gentlemen, Good den, a word with one of you.

Mr. And but one word with one of us? couple it with
something, make it a word and a blow.

Tib. You shall find me apt enough to that ſir, and you
will give me occasion.

Merc. Could you not take some occasion without gi-
ving ?

Tib. Mercutio, thou comfort'st with Romeo.

Mr. Confort ? what doſt thou make us Minſtrels ? and
thou make Minſtrels of us, look to hear nothing but Dif-
cords : here's my Fiddleſtick, here's that ſhall make you
dance. Come confort.

Ben. We talk here in the publick haunt of men :

Either withdraw unto ſome private place,

Or reaſon coldly of your grievances :

Or eſſe depart, here all eyes gaze on us.

Mr. Mens eyes were made to look, and let them gaze,
I will not budge for no man's pleasure I.

Enter Romeo.

Tib. Well peace be with you fir, here comes my man.

Mr. But I be hang'd fir if he wear your Livery :

Marry go before to field, hee'll be your follower,

Your worſhip in that ſenſe may call him man.

Tib. Romeo, the love I bear thee, can afford

No better term then this. Thou art a Villain.

Rom. Tibalt, the reaſon that I have to love thee,

Doth much excufe the appertaining rage

To ſuch a greeting :

Therefore farewell, I fee thou know'st I am not.

Tib. Boy, this ſhall not excufe the injuries

That then haſt done me, therefore turn and draw.

Rom. I do protest I never injur'd thee,

But lov'd thee better than thou can't devife :

Till thou haſt know the reaſon of my love,

And ſo good Capulet, which name I tender

As clearly as my own, be ſatisfied.

Mr. O calm, diſhonourable, vile ſubmission

Alas! what a cattrie I carry away.

Tibalt, You Rat-catcher: will you walk ?

Tib. What woulds thou have with me ?

Mr. Good King of Cats, nothing but one of your nine
lives, that I mean to make bold withal, and as you ſhall
uſe me hereafter dry beat the reſt of the eight, Will you
pluck your ſword out of his Pilecher by the eares ? Make
haſt, left mine be about your eares ere it be out.

Tib. I am for you.

Mr. Gentle Mercutio, put thy Rapier up.

Mr. Come fir, your Paffado.

Tib. Draw Bennolio, beart down their weapons :

Gentlemen, for ſhame forbear this outrage,

Tibalt, Mercutio, the Prince expreſſely hath

Forbidden bandying in Verona streets.

Hold Tybalt, good Mercutio.

Exit Tybalt.

Mr. I am hurt.

A plague of both the houſes, I am ſped :

Is he gone and hath nothing ?

Ben. What art thou hurt ?

Mr. I, I, a ſcatch, a ſcatch, marry 'tis enough,

Where is my Page ? go Villain fetch a Surgeon.

Rom. Courage man, the hurt cannot be much.

Mr. No. 'tis not so deep as a well, nor so wide as a
Church-door, but 'tis enough, 'twill ſerve : ask for me to
morrow, and you shall find me a grave man. I am pepper'd
I warrant for this world : a plague of both your houſes.
What, a Dog, a Rat, a Mouse, a Cat to ſcatch a man to
death ! a Braggart, a Rogue, a Villain : that fights by the
book of Arithmetick, why the dev'l came you between us?
I was hurt under your arm.

Rom. I thought all for the beſt.

Mr. Help me into ſome houſe Bennolio,

Or I ſhall faint : a plague a both your houſes.

They have made wormes meat of me,

654

I have it, and foundly too, your Houfes.

Exit.

Rom. This Gentleman the Princes near Allie,
My very friend hath got his mortal hurt
In my behalf, my reputation train'd
With *Tybalt* flander, *Tybalt* that an hour
Hath been my Cozin : O *Sweet Juliet*,
Thy Beauty hath made me Effeminate,
And in my temper softned Valours fleet.

Enter Bennulio.

Ben. O *Romeo*, *Romeo*, brave *Mercutio's* dead,
That Gallant spirit hath aspird the Cloudes,
Which too untimely here did foon the earth.

Rom. This daies black Fate, on mo daies do depend,
This but begins, the woe others muft end.

Enter Tybalt.

Ben. Here comes the furious *Tybalt* back again.

Rom. He gone in triumph, and *Mercutio* flain ?
Away to Heaven respective Lenity,
And fire, and Fury be my conduct now.
Now *Tybalt* take the Villain back again
That late thou gav't me, for *Mercutio's* soul, .

Is but a little way above our heads,

Staying for thine to keep him company :

Either thou or I, or both, muft go with him.

Tyb. Thou wretched Boy that didst comfort him here,
Shalt with him hence.

Rom. This shall determine that.

They fight.

Tybalt fels.

Ben. Romeo, away be gone :

The Citizens are up, and *Tybalt* flain,

Stand not amaz'd, the Prince will doom thee death

If thou art taken : hence, be gone, away.

Rom. O I am Fortunes fools.

Ben. Why doft thou fly ?

Exit Romeo.

Enter Citizens.

Citi. Which way ran he that kill *Mercutio* ?

Tybalt that Murtherer, which way ran he ?

Ben. There lies that *Tybalt*.

Citi. Up fir, go with me :

I charge thee in the Princes name obey.

Enter Prince, old *Mountague*, Capulet's, their

Wives and all.

Prin. Where are the vild beginners of this Fray ?

Ben. O Noble Prince, I can discover all

The unlucky mannage of this fatal brall :

There lies the man flain by young *Romeo*,

That flew thy kinfman brave *Mercutio*.

Cap. Wi. *Tybalt* my Cozin ? O my Brothers Child,
O Prince, O Cozin, Husband, O the blood is spill'd,
Of my dear Kinfman, Prince as thou att true,
For blood of ours, fled blood of *Mountague*.

O Cozin, Cozin.

Prin. Bennulio, Who began this Fray ?

Ben. *Tybalt* here flain, whom *Romeo's* hand did flay,
*Romeo* that spoke him fair, bid him bethink
How nice the quarrel was, and urg'd withal

Your high displeasure: all this uttered,

With gentle breath, calm look, knees humbly bow'd
Could not take truce with the unruly spleen
Of *Tybalt* deaf to peace, but that he Tiles

With piercing steel at bold *Mercutio's* breft,

Who all as hot, turnes deadly point to point,
And with a Martial corn, with one hand beats

Cold death wide, and with the other fends

It back to *Tybalt*, whose dexterity

Retorts it: *Romeo* he cries aloud,

Hold Friends, Friends part, and twiffer then his tongue,
His able arm, beats down their fatal points,

And twixt them rufhes, underneath whole arm,

An envious thrust from *Tybalt*, bit the life

Of flout *Mercutio*, and then *Tybalt* fled.

But by and by comes back to *Romeo*,

Who had but newly entertained revenge,

An't they go like lightning, for ere I

Could draw to part them, was flout *Tybalt* flain :

And as he fell, did *Romeo* turn and fly :

This is the truth, or let *Bennulio* die.

Cap. Wi. He is a Kinfman to the *Mountague*,
Affection makes him falfe, he speaks not true,
Some twenty of them fought in this black flight,

And all thofe twenty could but kill one life.

I beg for Justice, which thou Prince muft give :

Romeo flew *Tybalt*, *Romeo* muft not live.

Prin. Romeo flew him, he flew *Mercutio*,

Who now the price of his dear blood doth owe,

Cap. Not *Romeo* Prince, he was *Mercutio's* friend,

His fault concludes but what the Law should end,

The life of *Tybalt*.

Prin. And for that offence,

Immediately we do exile him hence :

I have an intereft in your hearts proceeding,

My blood for your rude brawles doth lie a bleeding,

But lie amerce you with a strong for a fine,

That you shall all repent the lots of mine,

I will be deaf to pleading and excufes,

Nor tears, nor prayers shall purchase our abus'es.

Therefore ufe none, let *Romeo* hence in haft,

Elfe when he is found, that hour is his laft,

Bear hence this body, and attend our will :

Mercy but Murders, pardoning thofe that kill.

Exenunt.

Enter *Juliet* alone.

Jul. Gallop apace, you fiery footed fteeds,

Toward *Phæbus* lodging, such a Wagoner

As *Phæton* would whip you to the weft,

And bring in cloudy night immediately,

Spred thy clofe Curtain Love-performing night,

That run-awaies eyes may wink, and *Romeo*

Leapt to these armes, untalkt of and unceen,

Lovers can fee to do their Amorous rights,

By their own Beauties : or if Love be blind,

It beft agrees with night: come civil night,

Thou fober futed Matron all in black,

And learn me how to loofe a winning match,

Playd for a pair of ftainlefs Maydenheads,

Hood my unmann'd blood baying in my Cheekes,

With thy black mantle, till ſtrange Love grow bold,

Think true Love acted ſimple modety:

Come night, come *Romeo*, come thou day in night,

For thou wilt lie upon the wings of night,

Whiter then new Snow on a Rivens back :

Come gentle night, come loving black-brow'd night,

Give me my *Romeo*, and when I shall die,

Take him and cut him out in little flars,

And he will make the face of heaven so fine,

That all the world will be in love with night,

And pay no worſhip to the Garſh Sun,

O I have bought the Manſion of a Love,

But not poffeſt it, and though I am fold,

Not yet enjoy'd, fo, tedious is this day,

As is the night before some Festival,

To

657

Since birth, and heaven and earth, all three do meet
In thee at once, which thou at once wouldst lofe
Fie, fie, thou fham'ft thy shape, thy love, thy wit,
Which like a Ufurer abound'd in all :
And uſet none in that true uſe indeed,
Which ſhould bedeck thy shape, thy love, thy wit :
Thy Noble shape, is but a form of waxe,
Digrefing from the valour of a man,
Thy dear Love ſworn, but hollow perjury,
Killing that Love which thou haſt vow'd to cheriſh,
Thy wit, that Ornament, to shape and Love,
Mif-shapen in the conduct of them both :
Like powder in a skilleſe Souldiers fluske,
Is ſet a fire by thine own ignorance,
And thou diſmembred with thine own defence.
What, rowſe thee man, thy *Juliet* is alive,
For whole dear ſake thou waf't but lately dead.
There art thou happy. *Tybalt* would kill thee,
But thou flew'ft *Tybalt*, there art thou happy too
The Law that threatened death became thy friend,
And turn'd it to exile, there art thou happy.
A pack of bleſſings light upon thy back,
Happineſſe Courts thee in her beſt array,
But like a miſ ſhaped and a ſullen wench,
Thou purteſt up thy Fortune and thy Love :
Take heed, take heed, for ſuch die miferable.
Go get thee to thy Love as was decreed,
Aſcend her Chamber, hence and comfort her :
But look thou ſtay not till the Watch be ſet,
For then thou cant not paſſe to *Mantua*,
Where thou haſt live till we can find a time
To blaze your marriage, reconcile your friends,
Beg pardon of thy Prince, and call thee back,
With twenty hundred thouſand times more joy
Then thou went'ſt it forth in Lamentation.
Go: before Nurſe, commend me to thy Lady,
And bid her haſten all the houſe to bed,
Which heavy forſow makes them apt unto.
*Romeo* is coming.

Nur. O Lord, I could have ſtaid here all night,
To hear good counſell: oh what learning is !
My Lord ile tell my Lady you will come.

Roms. Do ſo, and bid my *Sweeter* prepare to chide.

Nur. Here fir, a Ring ſhe bid me give you fir:
Hie you, make haſte, for it grows very late.

Roms. How well your comfort is reviv'd by this.

Fri. Go hence.

Goodnight, and here ſtands all your ſtate :
Either begone before the Watch be ſet,
Or by the break of day disguised from hence,
Sojourn in *Mantua*, ile find out your man,
And he ſhall ſignify from time to time,
Every good hap, to you that chances here :
Give me thy hand, *tis late, farewell Goodnight.

Roms. But that a joy, paſt joy, calls out on me,
It were a grief, ſo brief to part with thee :
Farewell.

Exeunt.

Enter old Capulet, his wife, and Paris

Cap. Things have faln out fir ſo unluckily,
That we have no time to move our daughter :
Look you, the lov'd her kinfman *Tybalt* clearly,
And ſo did I. Well, we were born to die.
Tis very late, the'l not come down to night :
I promife you, but for your company.

I would have bin a bed an hour agoe.

Par. These times of woe, afford no times to wooe :

Madam goodnight, commend me to your Daughter.

Lad. I will, and know her mind early to morrow.

To night, ſhe is mewed up to her heavineſſe.

Cap. Sir *Paris*, I will make a desperate tender

Of my Child's love: I think ſhe will be rul'd

In all reſpects by me, nay more, I doubt it not,
Wife, go you to her ere you go to bed,

Acquaint her here of my Son *Paris* Love,

And bid her, mark you me, on Wednesday next,

But ſoft, what day is this?

Par. Monday my Lord.

Cap. Monday, ha, ha, well Wednesday is too ſoon,
A Thursday let it be: a Thursday tell her,

She ſhall be married to this Noble Earle :

Will you be ready ? do you like this haſſe ?

Wee'l keep no great a do, a friend or two,

For hark you, *Tybalt* being ſin ſo late,

It may be thought we held him careleſſly,

Being our kinfman, if we revel much :

Therefore wee'l have ſome half a dozen Friends,

And there an end. But what ſay you to Thursday ?

Par. My Lord,

I would that Thursday were to morrow.

Cap. Well, get you gone, a Thursday be it then :

Go you to *Juliet* ere you go to bed,

Prepare her wife, against this wedding day.

Farewell my Lord, light to my chamber hoa,

Afore me, it is ſo late, that we may call it early by and by,
Goodnight.

Exeunt.

Enter Romeo and *Juliet* aloſſe.

Juli. Wilt thou be gone ?

It was the Nightingale, and not the Lark,

That pierc'd the fearful hollow of thine ear,

Nightly ſhe ſings on yond Pomgranat tree,

Beleeve me, Love, it was the Nightingale.

Roms. It was the Lark, the Herauld of Morn :

No Nightingale: look Love what envious streaks

Do lace the fevering Clouds in yonder Eaſt :

Nights Candles are burnt out, and joccond day

Stands tiptoe on the mifty Mountain tops,

I muſt be gorie and live, or ſtay and die.

Juli. Yond light is not day light, I know it !

It is ſome Meteor that the Sun exhales,

To be to thee this night a Torch-bearer,

And light thee on thy way to *Mantua*.

Therefore ſtay yet, thou need't not to be gone.

Roms. Let me be tane, let me be put to death,

I am content, ſo thou wilt have it so.

Ile ſay you gray is not the mornings eye,

Tis but the pale reflex of *Crimtias* brow.

Nor that is not the Lark whole nores do beat

The vaulty heavens ſo high above our heads,

I have more care to ſtay, then will to go :

Come death and welcome, *Juliet* wills it so.

How iſt my ſoul, let's talk, it is not day

Juli. It is, it is, hie hence be gone away :

It is the Lark that ſings ſo out of rune,

Straining harſh Difcords, and unpleasing Sharps,

Some ſay the Lark makes ſweet Divination,

This doth not ſo : for ſhe divideth us.

Some ſay, the Lark, and loathed Toad change eies,

O now I would they had chang'd voices too :

K k k

Since

658

Since arms from arms that voice doth us affray,
Hunting thee hence, with Hunt-up to the day,
O now be gone, more fight, and light, growes.

Re. More light and light, more dark and dark our woes.

Enter Madam and Nurse.

Nur. Madam.

Juli. Nurse.

Nur. Your Lady Mother is coming to your chamber,
The day is broke, be wary, look about,

Juli. Then window let day in, and let life out.

Rom. Farewell, farewell, one kiffle and ile defcend.

Juli. Art thou gone fo? Love, Lord, ah Husband, friend,
I must hear from thee every day in the hour,
For in a minute there are many daies,
O by this Count I shall be much in years,
Ere I again behold my Romeo.

Rom. Farewell :

I will omit no opportunity,

That may convey my greetings Love, to thee.

Juli. O thinkest thou we shall ever meet again ?

Rom. I doubt it not, and all these woes shall serve

For sweet discourfes in our time to come.

Juli. O God ! I have an ill Divining foul,

Me thinks I fee thee now, thou art so low,

As one dead in the bottom of a Tomb,

Either my eye-fight fails: or thou look'st pale.

Rom. And truft me Love, in my eye fo do you :

Dry forrow drinks our blood. Adue, adue.

Exit.

Juli. O Fortune, Fortune, all men call thee fickle,

If thou art fickle, what doft thou wi, h him

That is renown'd for faith ? be fickle Fortune :

For then I hope thou wilt not keep him long,

But fend him back.

Enter Mother.

La. Ho Daughter, are you up ?

Juli. Who if that calls ? is it my Lady Mother ?

Is the not down so late, or up so early ?

What unaccuſtom'd caufe procures her hither?

La. Why how now Juliet ?

Juli. Madam, I am not well.

La. Evermore weeping for your Cozins death ?

What wilt thou wash him from his grave with tears ?

And if thou could't, thou could't not make him five :
Therefore have done, some grief flews much of Love,
But much of grief, flews still fome want of witt.

Juli. Yet let me weep, for fuch a feeling loffe.

La. So fhall you feel the loffe, but not the Friend

Which you weep for.

Juli. Feeling fo the loffe,

I cannot chufe but ever weep the Friend.

La. Well Girle, thou weep't not so much for his death,
As that the villain lives which floughter'd him.

Juli. What villain, Madam ?

La. That fame villain Romeo.

Juli. Villain and he, be many miles affunder :

God pardon him, I do with all my heart,

And yet no man like he doth grieve my heart.

La. That is becaufe the Traitor lives.

Juli. I Madam from the reach of thefe my hands :

Would none but I might venge my Cozins death.

La. We will have vengeance for it, fear thou not.

Then weep no more. Ile fend to one in Mantua,
Where re theame banifht Run-agare doth live,
Shall give him fuch an unaccuſtom'd dram,
That he shall foon keep Tybalt company :

And then I hope thou wilt be satisfied.

Juli. Indeed I never ſhall be ſatified

With Romeo, Till I behold him. Dead

Is my poor heart, fo for a kinfman veat :

Madam if you could find out but a man

To bear a poifon, I would temper it;

That Romeo ſhould upon receipt thereof,

Soon ſleep in quiet. Ob how my heart abhors

To hear him nam'd, and cannot come to him,

To wreak the Love I bore my Cozin, Tybalt,

Upon his body that his floughter'd him.

Mo. Find thou the means, and ile find ſuch a man,
But now ile tell thee joyful ridings Girle.

Juli. And joy comes well, in fuch a needy time,
What are they, I beſeeth your Ladyship ?

Mo. Well, well, thou haſt a careful Father Child ?
One who to put thee from thy heavineſſe,
Hath forted out a ſudden day of joy,

That thou expeſts not, nor I lookt not for.

Juli. Madam in happy time, what day is this ?

Mo. Marry my Child, early next Thursday morn,
The gallant, young, and Noble Gentleman,
The County Paris at Saint Peters Church,
Shall happily make thee a joyful Bride.

Juli. Now by S inſt Peters Church, and Peter too,
He shall not make me there a joyful Bride.

I wonder at this hafeſt, that I muſt wed

Ere he that ſhould be Husband comes to woe.

I pray you tell my Lord and Father Madam

I will not marry yer, and when I do, I ſwear

It ſhall be Romeo, whom you know I hare

Rather then Paris. Theſe are news indeed.

Mo. Here comes your Father, tell him fo your ſelf,
And fee how he will take it at your hands.

Enter Capulets and Nurse.

Cap. When the Sun ſees, the earth doth drizzle dew;

But for the Sunſet of my Brothers Son,

It rains down-right.

How now ? a Conduit Girle, what ſill in tears ?

Evermore ſhowring in one little body ?

Thy counterfeits a Bark, a Sea, a Wind :

For ſill thy ęes, which I may call the Sea,

Do ebb and flow with tears, the Bark thy body

Sailing in this ſalt floud, the winds thy ſighs,

Who raging with the tears and they with them,

Without a ſudden calm will over-feet

Thy tempeſt-toſſed body. How now wife ?

Have you delivered to her our decree ?

La. I fir;

But ſhe will none, ſhe gives you thanks,

I would the fool were married to her grave.

Cap. Soft, take me with you, take me with you wife,
How, will ſhe none ? doth ſhe not give us thanks ?

Is ſhe not proud ? doth ſhe not count her bleſt,

Unworthy as ſhe is, that we have wrought

So worthy a Gentleman, to be her Bridegroom ?

Juli. Not proud you have,

But thankful that you have.

Proud can I never be of what I have,

But thankful even for hate, that is meant Love.

Cap. How now ?

How now ? Chopt Logick ? what is this ?

Proud, and I thank you : and I thank you not.

Thank me no thankings, nor proud me no prouds,

But ſeule your fine joints 'gainſt Thursday next,

To

["The Tragedy of Romeo and Juliet.", "657", "To go with Paris to Saint Peters Church :\nOr I will drag thee, on a hurdle thither.", "Out you green fickneſs carrion, out you baggage,\nYou tallow face.", "Lad. Fie, fie, what are you mad?", "Jul. Good Father, I beſech you on my knees,", "Hear me with patience, but to ſpeak a word.", "Fa. Hang thee young baggage, diſobedient wretch,\nI tell thee what, get thee to Church a Thursday,\nOr never after look me in the face.", "Speak not, reply not, do not anſwer me.", "My fingers itch, wife: ve ſcarce thought us bleſs,\nThat God had lent us but this only Child,", "But now I fee this one is one too much,", "And that we have a Curſe in having her:\nOut on her Hilding.", "Nur. God in heaven bleſs her,", "You are to blame my Lord to rate her ſo.", "Fa. And why my Lady wisdom? hold your tongue,\nGood Prudence, ſmatter with your goſlip, go.", "Nur. I ſpeak no treſon,", "O Godigoden,", "May not one ſpeak ?", "Fa. Peace you mumbling fool,", "Uter your gravity ore a Goſlops bowl,", "For here we need it not.", "La. You are too hot.", "Fa. Gods bread, it makes me mad :", "Day, night, hour, tide, time, work, play,", "Alone, in company, till my care hath been", "To have her matcht, and having now provided", "A Gentleman of Noble Parentage,", "Of fair Demeanees, Youthful, and Nobly Allied,\nSuſt as they ſay with Honourable parts,", "Proportion'd as ones thought would with a man.\nAnd then to have a wretched puling fool,", "A whining mammet, in her Fortunes tender,", "To anſwer, Ile not wed, I cannot Love,", "I am too young, I pray you pardon me.", "But, and you will not wed, Ile pardon you.", "Graze where you will, you ſhall not houſe with me :", "Look too't, think on't, I do not uſe to jeſt.", "Thursday is near, lay hand on heart, advice,", "And you be mine, Ile give you to my Friend :", "And you be not, hang, beg, starve, die in the streets,\nFor by my foul, Ile nere acknowledge thee,", "Nor what is mine, ſhall never do thee good :", "Traut to't, bethink you, Ile not be forſworn.", "Jul. Is there no pitty fitting in the Clouds,", "That fees into the bottom of my grief ?", "O ſweet my Mother caſt me not away,", "Delay this marriage, for a moneth, a week,", "Or if you do not, make the Bridal bed", "In that dim Monument where Tybalt lies.", "Mo. Talk not to me, for Ile not ſpeak a word,", "Do as thou wilt, for I have done with thee.", "Jul. O God!", "O Nurfe, how ſhall this be prevented ?", "My Husband is on earth, my faith in heaven,", "How ſhall that faith return again to earth,", "Unleſſ that Husband ſend it me from heaven,", "By leaving earth ? Comfort me, counſel me :", "Alack, alack, that heaven should practice ſtratagems\nUpon ſo ſoft a ſubjeſt as my ſelf.", "What faſt thou ? haſt thou not a word of joy ?\nSome comfort Nurfe.", "Nur. Faith here at this.", "Romeo is bnaſhed, and all the world to nothing.", "That he dares here come back to challenge you :", "Or if he do, it needs muſt be by ſtealth.", "Then ſince the cſe ſo hands as now it doth.", "I think it better you married with the Count,", "Oh he's a lovely Gentleman :", "Romeo's a diſh-clow to him: an Eagle Madam", "Hath not to green, for quick, for, in an eye.", "As Paris had, beſtrow my very hearts.", "I think you are happy in this ſecond march,", "For it exceels your faith, or if it did not,", "Your faith is dead, or, were as good he were,", "As living here and you no true of him.", "Jul. ſpeakeſt thou from thy heart ?", "Nur. And from my foul too", "Or else beſhrew them both.", "Jul. Amen.", "Nur. What?", "Jul. Well, thou haſt comforted me, marvſous much,", "Go in, and tell my Lady I am gone,", "Having diſpleased my Father, to Lawrence Cell,", "To make conſeſſion, and to be abolyed.", "Nur. Marry I will, and this is wifely done.", "Jul. Ancient damnation, O molſt wicked fiend.", "Is it more ſin to, with me, thus forſworn,", "Or to diſpraſe my Lord with that fame tongue", "Which the haſt prais'd him with above compare,", "So many thouſand times. Go Countellor,", "Thou and my boſon henceforth shall be twain :", "Ile to the Friar to know his remedy.", "If all else fail, my ſelf have power to die.", "Exeunt.", "Enter Friar and Count Paris.", "Fri. On Thursday fir, the time is very ſhort.", "Par. My Father Capule, will have it so,", "And I am nothing ſlow to ſlack his haſt.", "Fri. You ſay you do not know the Ladies minſe.", "Uneven is the courſe, I like it not.", "Pa. Immoderately the weeps for Tybalt's death,", "And therefore have I little talk of Love,", "For Venus ſmiles not in a house of teares,", "Now fir, her Father counts it dangerous", "That he ſhould give her ſorrow to much ſway :", "And in his wifdom, hatſe our marriages.", "To ſtop the inundation of her teares,", "Which too much minded by her ſelf alone,", "May be put from her by ſociety.", "Now do you know the reſon of this haſt?", "Fri. I would I knew not why it should be ſlow.", "Look fir, here comes the Lady towards my Cell.", "Enter Juliet.", "Par. Happily met, my Lady and my wife.", "Jul. That may be fir, when I may be a wife.", "Par. That may be, muſt be Love, on Thursday next.", "Jul. What muſt be fir, be.", "Fri. That's a certain next.", "Par. Come you to make conſeſſion to this Father ?", "Jul. To anſwer that, I should conſeſſ to you.", "Par. Do not deny to him, that you love me.", "Jul. I will conſeſſ to you that I Love him.", "Par. So will ye, I am ſure that you Love me.", "Jul. If I do ſo, it will be of more price,", "Being ſpoke behind your back, then to your face.", "Par. Poor ſoul, thy face is much abus'd with teares.", "K k k 2", "Jul.

["The Tragedy of Romeo and Juliet.", "Jul. The teares have got small victory by that:\nFor it was bad enough before their spight.", "Pa. Thou wrong't it more then tears with that report", "Jul. That is no launder fir, which is truth,", "And what I spake, I spake it to my face.", "Par. Thy face is mine, and thou haſt flandred it.", "Jul. It may be ſo, for it is not mine own.", "Are you at leſure, Holy Father now,", "Or shall I come to you at evening Mafs?", "Fri. My leſure ſerves me penſive daughter now.", "My Lord I muſt inſreat the time alone.", "Par. God ſhield: I ſhould diſturb Devotion :", "Juliet, on Thursday early will I rowſe ye,", "Till then adue, and keep this holy kifs.", "Exit Paris.", "Jul. O ſhut the door, and when thou haſt done ſo,", "Come weep with me, paſt hope, paſt care, paſt help.", "Fri. O Juliet, I already know thy grief,", "It ſtraines me paſt the compaſs of my wits :", "I hear thou muſt, and nothing may prorogue it,", "On Thursday next be married to this Count.", "Jul. Tell me not Frier that thou heareſt of this,", "Unleſſ thou tell me how I may prevent it:", "If in thy wisdom, thou canſt give no help,", "Do thou but call my ſolution wife,", "And with this knife, I help it p[re]ſently.", "God joyn'd my heart, and Romeo's, thou our hands,", "And ere this hand by thee to Romeo ſeel'd:", "Shall be the Label to another Deed,", "Or my true heart with trecherous revolt,", "Turn to another, this ſhall ſlay them both:", "Therefore out of thy long experien't time,", "Give me ſome preſent counsel, or behold", "Twixt my extreames and me, this bloody knife", "Shall play the umpire, arbitrating that,", "Which the commiſſion of my yeares and Art,", "Could to no effuſe of true honour bring :", "Be not ſo long to ſpeak, I long to die,", "If what thou ſpeak't, ſpeak not of remedy.", "Fri. Hold Daughter, I do ſpie a kind of hope,", "Which craves as desperate an execution,", "As that is desperate which we would prevent.", "If rather then to marry County Paris", "Thou haſt the ſtrength of will to ſlay thy ſelf,", "Then it is likely thou will undertake", "A thing like death to chide away this ſhame,", "That coap't with death himſelf, to ſcape fro it :", "And if thou dar't, Ile give thee remedy.", "Juli. O bid me leap, rather then marry Paris,", "From off the Buſtlements of any Tower,", "Or walk in thieſiſh waies, or bid me lurk", "Where Serpents are : chain me with roaring Beares", "Or hide me nightly in a Charnel houſe,", "Ore-covered quite with dead mens ratling bones,", "With reeky ſhankes, and yellow chapleſs skulſs:", "Or bid me go into a new made grave,", "And hide me with a dead man in his grave,", "Things that to hear them told, have made me tremble,", "And I will do it without fear or doubt,", "To live an unſtain'd wife to my ſweet Love.", "Fri. Hold then : go home, be merry, give conſent,", "To marry Paris : Wenſday is to morrow,", "To morrow night look that thou lie alone,", "Let not thy Nurſe lie with thee in thy Chamber :", "Take thou this Viol being then in bed,", "And this diſtilling liquor drink thou off,", "When p[re]ſently through all thy veines ſhall run,", "A cold and drowſe humour : for no pulſe", "Shall keep his native progrefſs, but ſurceſe :", "No warmth, no breath shall teſtife thou liveſt.", "The Roſes in thy lips and cheekes ſhall fade", "To mealy affes, the eyes windows fall", "Like death when he fluts up the day of life :", "Each part depriv'd of fuple government,", "Shall tiffe and ſtark, and cold appear like death,", "And in this borrowed likenefs of ſtrunk death,", "Thou ſhalt continue two and forty hours,", "And then awake as from a pleafant ſleep.", "Now when the Bridegroom in the morning comes,", "To rowſe thee from thy bed, there art thou dead :", "Then as the manner of our Counſrey is,", "In thy beſt Robes uncover'd on the Beer,", "Be born to burial in thy kindreds grave :", "Thou ſhalt be born to that fame ancient vault,", "Where all the kindred of the Capulets lie,", "In the mean time, againſt thou ſhalt awake,", "Shall Romeo by my Letters know our drift,", "And hicher ſhall he come, and that very night", "Shall Romeo bear thee hence to Mantua.", "And this ſhall free thee from this preſent ſhame,", "If no unconſtant toy nor womaniſh fear,", "Abate thy valour in the acting it.", "Juli. Give me, give me, O tell not me of fear.", "Fri. Hold, get you gone, be ſtrong and p[ro]perous", "In this reſolve, Ile ſend a Frier with ſpeed", "To Adanſua with my Letters to the Lord.", "Jul. Love give me ſtrength,", "And ſtrength shall help afford :", "Farewell dear Father.", "Exit.", "Enter Father Capulet, Mother Nurſe, and\nſerving men, two or three.", "Cap. So many gueſts invite as here are w[rit],\nSirra, go hire me twenty cunning Cookes.", "Ser. You ſhall have none ill ſir, for Ile try if they can\nlick their fingers.", "Cap. How canſt thou try them ſo ?", "Ser. Hold, Marry ſir, 'tis an ill Cook that cannot lick his own\nfingers : therefore he that cannot lick his fingers, goes\nnot with me.", "Cap. Go be gone, we ſhall be much unfu[n]ſiſt for this\ntime : What is my Daughter gone to Frier Lawrence ?", "Nur. I forſooth.", "Cap. Well he may chance to do ſome good on her,\nA peeviſh ſelf-wild harlotry it is.", "Enter Juliet.", "Nur. See where the comes from ſhriſt\nWith merry look.", "Cap. How now my headſtrong,", "Where have you been gadding ?", "Jul. Where I have learnt me to repent the ſin\nOf diſobedient oppoſition :", "To you and your beheſts, and am enjoyn'd", "By holy Lawrence, to fall proſtrate here,", "To beg your pardon : pardon I beſeech you,", "Henceforward I am ever rul'd by you.", "Cap. Send for the Count, go tell him of this\nIle have this knot knit up to morrow morning.", "Jul. I met the y[outh]ful Lord at Lawrence Cell,\nAnd gave him what became Love I might,\nNot lepping ore the bounds of modeſty.", {"bbox": [664, 1340, 972

["The Tragedy of Romeo and Juliet.", "659", "This is as't should be, let me see the County:\nI marry go I say, and fetch him hither.", "Now afore God, this reverend holy Frier,\nAll our whole City is much bound to him.", "Juli. Nurfe will you go with me into my Closer,\nTo help me for such needful ornaments,\nAs you think fit to furnish me to morrow?", "Mo. No not till Thursday, there is time enough.", "Fa. Go Nurfe, go with her,", "Wee'l to Church to morrow.", "Exeunt Juliet and Nurfe.", "Mo. We shall be short in our provision,\nTis now neer night.", "Fa. Tufh, I will fire about,", "And all things shall be well, I warrant thee wife :", "Go thou to Juliet, help to deck up her,", "Ile not to bed to night, let me alone :", "Ile play the hufwife for this once. What ho ?", "They are all forth, well I will walk my self\nTo County Paris, to prepare him up", "To County Paris, to prepare him up\nAgainst to morrow, my heart is wondrous light,\nSince this fame way-ward Girle is so reclaim'd.", "Exeunt Father and Mother.", "Enter Juliet and Nurfe.", "Jul. I, those attires are belt, but gentle Nurfe\nI pray thee leave me to my self to night :", "For I have need of many Orisons,", "To move the heavens to smile upon my flate,\nWhich well thou knowst is crofile and full of sin.", "Which well thou knowst is crofile and full of sin.", "Enter Mother.", "Mo. What are you bufe ho ? need you my help ?", "Jul. No Madam, we have cull'd such necessaries", "As are behooveful for our flate to morrow :", "So pleafe you, let me now be left alone ;", "And let the Nurfe this night fit up with you,", "For I am fure, you have your hands full all,", "In this fo fudden bufineſſe.", "Mo. Goodnight.", "Get thee to bed and reft, for thou haſt need.", "Exeunt.", "Jul. Farewell :", "God knows when we shall meet again.", "I have a faine cold fear thrills through my veins,", "That almost freezes up the heat of fire :", "Ile call them back again to comfort me.", "Nurfe, what should ſhe do here ?", "My difmall Scean, I needs muſt act alone :", "Come Viall, what if this mixture do not work at all ?", "Shall I be married then to morrow morning ?", "No, no, this shall forbid it. Lie thou there,", "What if it be a poſſon which the Frier", "Subtly hath minifted to have me dead.", "Left in this marriage he ſhould be diſhonour'd,", "Because he married me before to Romeo ?", "I fear it is, and yet me thinks it ſhould not.", "For he hath ſtill been ſtryed a holy man.", "How, if when I am laid into the Tomb,", "I wake before the time that Romeo", "Come to redeem me ? There's a fearful point :", "Shall I not then be ſtifled in the Vault ?", "To what foul mouth no healthſome air breaths in,\nAnd there die ſtrangled ere my Romeo comes.", "Or if I live, is it not very like,", "The horrible conceit of death and night,", "Together with the terror of the place,", "As in a Vault, an ancient receptacle,", "Where for theſe many hundred years the bones\nOf all my buried Auncients are packt,", "Where bloody Tybalt, yet but green in earth,\nLies ſetring in his ſhow'd, where as they ſay,", "At ſome hours in the night, Spirits reſort :", "Alack, alack is it not like that I", "So early waking, what with loathſome ſmells,", "And Andirkes like Mandrakes torn out of the earth,", "That living mortals hearing them, run mad.", "Or if I walk, shall I not be diſtraught,", "Invironed with all theſe hideous ſears,", "And madly play with my fore-fathers joynts ?", "And pluck the mangled Tybalt from his ſhow'd ?", "And in this rage, with ſome great kinfmans bone,", "As (with a club) dafh out my desperate brains.", "O look, me thinks I fee my Cozins Ghoſt,", "Seeking out Romeo that did ſpit his body", "Upon his Rapiers point: ſtay Tybalt, ſtay ;", "Romeo, Romeo, Romeo, here's drink: I drink to thee.", "Enter Lady of the house and Nurfe.", "Lady. Hold,", "Take theſe keies and fetch more ſpices Nurſe", "Nur. They call for Dates and Quinces in the Paſtry,", "Enter old Capulet.", "Cap. Come, tیر, tیر, tیر,", "The ſecond Cock hath Crow'd,", "The Curp-hew Bell hath rung, 'tis three a clock :", "Look to the bak'd meats, good Angelica,", "Spare not for coſt.", "Nur. Go you Cot-quean, go,", "Get you to bed, faith you be ſick to morrow", "For this nights watching.", "Cap. No not a whit, what ? I have watch'd ere now", "All night for a leſſe cauſe, and nere been ſick.", "La. I, you have been a Mouſe-hunt in your time,", "But I will watch you from ſuch watching now.", "Exit Lady and Nurſe.", "Cap. A jealous hood, a jealous hood,", "Now fellow, what's there ?", "Enter three or four with spits, and logs, and baskets.", "Fel. Things for the Cook fir, but I know not what.", "Cap. Make haſte, make haſte, firrah, fetch drier Logs.", "Call Peter, he will ſhew thee where they are.", "Fel. I have a head fir, that will find out logs,", "And never trouble Peter for the matter.", "Cap. Maſſe and well ſaid, a merry horon, ha.", "Thou haſt be logger-head, good Faith, 'tis day.", "Play Mauſick.", "The County will be here with Mauſick ſtraight,", "For so he ſaid he would, I hear him near,", "Nurſe, wife, what ho ? what Nurſe I ſay ?", "Enter Nurſe.", "Go waken Juliet, go and trim her up,", "Ile go and chat with Paris : hie, make haſte,", "Make haſte, the Bridegroom, he is come already :", "Make haſte I ſay.", "Nur. Miftrifs, what Miftrifs ? Juliet ? Fait I warrant her.", "Why Lamb, why Lady ? ſie you fluggabed,", "Why Love I ſay ? Madam, ſweet heart : why Bride ?", "What not a word ? You take the penniworths now.", "Sleep for a week, for the next night I warrant", "The County Paris hath ſet up his reſt,", "That you ſhall reſt but little, God forgive me :", "Marry and Amen : how found is ſhe asleep ?", "Kkk 3", "I", {"bbox": [0, 857, 33, 1003], "category": "Text", "text":

I must needs wake her: Madam, Madam, Madam,
I, let the County take you in your bed;
Hee's fright you up yfaith. Will it not be?
What dreft, and in your cloths, and down again?
I must needs wake you: Lady, Lady, Lady?
Alas, alas, help, help, my Lady's dead.
Oh weladay, that ever I was born,
Some Aqua-vite ho, my Lord, my Lady?

Enter Mother.

Mo. What noife is here?
Nur. O lamentable day.
Mo. What is the matter?
Nur. Look, look, oh heavy day.
Mo. O me, O me, my Child, my only life:

Revive, look up, or I will die with thee:
Help, help, call help.

Enter Father.

Fa. For name bring Juliet forth, her Lord is come.
Nur. She's dead : deceaſt, ſhe's dead : alack the day.
Mo. Alack the day, ſhe's dead, ſhe's dead, ſhe's dead,
Fa. Ha? Let me fee her : out alas ſhe's cold,
Her blood is fetled, and her joynts are tiffe:
Life and theſe lips have long been ſeparated :
Death lies on her like an untimely froſt
Upon the sweeteſt flower of all the field.

Nur. O lamentable day !
Mo. O woful time.
Fa. Death that hath tane her hence to make me waile,
Ties up my tongue and will not let me ſpeak.

Enter Friar and the County.

Fri. Come, is the Bride ready to go to Church?

Fa. Ready to go, but never to return.

O Sonne, the night before thy wedding day,
Hath death lain with thy wife : fee there ſhe lies,
Flower as ſhe was, deſlowrd now by him.
Death is my Son in law, death is my Heir,
My Daughter he hath wedded. I will die,
And leave him all life living, all is deaths.

Pa. Have I thought long to fee this mornings face,
And doth it give me such a fight as this?

Mo. Accurſt, unhappy, wretched, hateful day,
Moft miferable hour, that ere time ſaw
In laſting labour of his Pilgrimage.
But one, poor one, one poor and loving child,
But one thing to rejoyce and folace in,
And cruel death hath catcht it from my fight,

Nur. O wo, O woful, woful day,
Moft lamentable day, moſt woful day,
That ever, ever, I did yet behold.

O day, O day, O day, O hateful day,
Never was seen ſo black a day as this :

O woful day, O woful day.

Pa. Beguil'd, divorced, wronged, ſpightred, ſlain,
Moft deteſiable death, by thee beguil'd,
By cruel, cruel thee quite overthrown :
O love, O life ; not life, but love in death.

Fa. Despis'd, diſtrefled, hated, marcy'd, kill'd,
Uncomfortable time, why cam't thou now
To murther, murther our Solemnity?
O Child, O Child; my Soul and not my Child,
Dead art thou, alack my Child is dead,
And with my Child, my joyes are buried.

Fri. Peace, ho for name, confusions: Care lives not
In theſe confusions, heaven and your ſelf
Had part in this fair Maid, now heaven hath all,
And all the better is it for the Maid :
Your part in her, you could not keep from death,

But heaven keeps his part in eternal life :
The moſt you ſought was her promotion,
For 'twas your heaven that ſhe should be advanc'd.
And weep ye now, feeing ſhe is advanc'd.

Above the Clouds, as high as Heaven it ſelf?

O in this love, you love your Child to ill.

That you run mad, feeing that ſhe is well :

She's not well married, that lives married long,

But ſhe's beſt married, that dies married young.

Drie up your tears, and tick your Rosemary.

On this fair Coarſe, and as the cuſtom is

And in her beſt array bear her to Church:

For though fond Nature bids all us lament,

Yet Natures tears are Reaſons merriment,

Fa. All things that we ordained Festival,

Turn from their office to black Funeral :

Our instruments to melancholly Bells.

Our wedding cheare, to a ſad burial Feaſt:

Our ſolemn Hymnes, to ſullen Dyrges change ;

Our Bridal Flowers ſerve for a buried Coarſe:

And all things change them to the contrary.

Fri. Sir go you in, and Madam, go with him,

And go for Paris, every one prepare

To follow this fair Coarſe unto her grave :

The heavens do lowre upon you, for some ill:

Move them no more, by croſſing their high will.

Exeunt.

Mu. Faith we may put up our Pipes and be gone.

Nur. Honeſt good ſeffords : Ah put up put up,

For well you know this is a pittifull cife.

Mu. I by my troth, the cife may be amended.

Enter Peter.

Pet. Muſitians, oh Muſitians,

Hearts eafe, hearts eafe,

O, you will have me live, play hearts eafe.

Mu. Why hearts eafe ;

Pet. O Muſitians,

Because my heart it ſelf plaies, my heart is full.

Mu. Nor a dump we, tis no time to play now.

Pet. You will not then ?

Mu. No.

Pet. I will then give it you foundly.

Mu. What will you give us ?

Pet. No money on my faith, but the gleek.

I will give you the Miniftrell.

Mu. Then will I give you the Serving creature.

Pet. Then will I lay the ſerving creatures Dagger on
your pate. I will carry no Crotchers, Ile Re you, Ile Fa you,
do you note me ?

Mu. And you Re us, and Fa us, you Note us.

2. Mu. Pray you put up your Daguer,

And put out your witt.

Then have at you with my wirt.

Pet. I will drie-beat you with an iron witt,

And put up my iron Daguer.

Anſwer me like men :

When griping griefs the heart doth wound, then Mufick
with her filver found.

Why filver found ? why Mufick with her filver found ?

What ſay you Simon Caſling ?

Mu. Marry fir, becauſe filver hath a ſweet found.

Pet. Prateſt, What ſay you Hugh Rubick?

2. Mu. Ifay filver found, becauſe Muſitians found for fil-
Pet. Prateſt too, what ſay you James Sound-Poſt ? (ver

3. Mu. Faith I know not what to ſay.

Pet. O I cry you mercy, you are the Singer.

I will ſay for you, it is Mufick with her filver found,

Be-

661

Because Mufitians have no gold for founding :

Then Mufick with her silver found, with speedy help doth
lend redrefs.

Exit.

M. What a peftilent knave is this fame?

M. 2. Hang him Jack, come weele in here, tarry for
the Mourners, and fly dinner.

Exit.

Enter Romeo.

Rom. If I may trust the flattering truth of sleep,
My dreames prefage some joyful newes at hand :

My bofomes Lord fits lightly in his throne :

And all this winged unaccustomed spirit,
Lifts me above the ground with cheerful thoughts.

I dreamt my Lady came and found me dead,
(Strange dream that gives a dead man leave to think)
And breath'd such life with killes in my lips,
That I reviv'd, and was an Emperour.

Ah me, how sweet is love it self poffeft,
When but loves shadows are so rich in joy.

Enter Romeo's man.

News from Verona, how now Balıhakar ?

Doft thou not bring me Letters from the Frier ?

How doth my Lady ? Is my Father well ?

How doth my Lady Juliet ? that I ask again,
For nothing can be ill, if she be well.

Ma. Then she is well, and nothing can be ill.

Her body sleepes in Capels Monument,
And her immortal part with Angels lives
I faw her laid low in her Kindreds Vault.

And prefently took poft to tell it you :

O pardon me for bringing these ill newes,
Since you did leave it for my office Sir.

Rom. Is it even so ?

Then I deny you Stars.

Thou knoweft my Lodging, get me Ink and Paper,
And hire poft-horves, I will hence to night.

Ma. I do befeech you fir, have patience :

Your lookes are pale and wild, and do import
Some mifadventure.

Rom. Tuft, chou art deceiv'd,
Leave me, and do the thing I bid thee do :

Haft thou no Letters to me from the Frier ?

Ma. No, my good Lord.

Exit Man.

Rom. No matter : Get thee gone,

And hire thofe horves, Ile be with thee straight.
Well Juliet, I will lie with thee to night :

Let fee for means : O mifchief thou art swift,

To enter in the thoughts of desperate men :

I do remember an Apothecary,

And hereabouts he dewes, which late I noted

In tattred weeds, with overwhelming browes,

Culling of Simplees, meager were his lookes,

Sharp miſery had worn him to the bones :

And in his needy flap a Tortoys hung,

An Allegater fluft, and other skins

Of ill flap'd ſihes, and about his ſhelves,

A beggarly account of empty boxes,

Green earthen pots, Bladders, and muſty ſeeds,

Remnants of packthred, and old cakes of Rofes

Were thinly scattered, to make up a ſhew.

Noring this penury, to my self I ſaid,

And if a man did need a poyſon now,

Whofe ſale is prefent death in Mantua,

Here lives a Cairſive wench would ſell it him.

O this fame thought did but fore-run my need,
And this fame needy man muſt ſell it me.

As I remember, this should be the houſe,
Being holy day, the beggers flap is flut.
What ho ? Apothecary?

Enter Apothecary.

Ap. V. Who call's ſo lowd ?

Rom. Come hither man, I fee that thou art poor,
Hold , there is forty Dukers, let me have
A dram of poyſon, fuch foon ſpeeding gear,
As will diſperſe it ſelf through all the veines;
That the life-weary-taker may fall dead,
And that the Trunk may be diſcharg'd of breath,
As violently, as haſty powder fier'd
Doth hurry from the fatal Cannons womb.

Ap. Such mortal drugs I have, but Mammas Law
Is death to any he, that utters them.

Rom. Are thou ſo bare and full of wretchedneſs,
And fear it to die ? Famine is in thy cheeks,

Need and oppreſſion starveth in thine eyes,

Contempt and beggery hang on thy back!

The world is not thy friend, nor the worlds law :

The world affords no law to make thee rich.

Then be not poor, but break it, and take this.

Ap. My poverty, but not my will contifuſs.

Rom. I pray thy poverty, and not thy will.

Ap. Put this in any liquid thing you will,
And drink it off, and if you had the ſtrength

Of twenty men, it would dispatch you straight.

Rom. There's thy Gold,

VVorfe poyſon to mens ſoules,

Doing more murder in this loathſome world,
Then theſe poor compounds that thou maſt not ſell.

I ſell thee poyſon, thou haſt ſeld me none,

Farewell, buy food, and get thy ſelf in fleſh.

Come Cordial, and not poyſon, go with me

To Juliets grave, for there muſt I uſe thee.

Exeunt.

Enter Frier John to Frier Lawrence

John. Holy Franciſan Frier, Brother, ho ?

Enter Frier Lawrence.

Law. This fame should be the voſce of Frier John.
VVelcome from Mantua, what faies Romeo ?
Or if mind be wri, give me his Letter.

Joh. Going to find a bare-foot brother out,
One of our order to ſſſociate me,

Here in this City viſiting the ſick,

And finding him, the ſearchers of the Town

Sufpeſting that we both were in a houſe

VVhere the infectious Pefſilence did reign,
Seal'd up the doores, and would nor let us forth,
So that my ſpeed to Mantua there was ſtaid.

Law. V. Who bare my Letter then to Romeo ?

Joh. I could not ſend it, here it is again,
Nor get a Meſlenger to bring it thee,
So ſeafuſul were they of inſection.

Law. Unhappy Fortune ! by my Brotherhood
The Letter was not nice, but full of charge,
Of dear import, and the neglecting it

May do much danger : Frier John go hence,
Get mean Iron Crow, and bring it straight
Unto my Cell.

Joh. Brother, Ile go and bring it thee.

Law. Now muſt I to the Monument alon;
VVithin this three houres will fair Juliet wake,
She will beſhrew me much that Romeo

Hath had no notice of these Accidents :

But I will write again to Mantua,

Exit.

And

And keep her at my Cell till *Romeo* come,
Poor living Coarfe, clos'd in a dead mans Tombe.

Exit.

*Enter Paris and his Page.*

*Par.* Give me thy Torch, Boy, hence and stand aloft,
Yet put it out, for I would not be seen :
Under yond young trees lay thee all alone,
Laying thy ear close to the hollow ground,
So shall no foot upon the Church-yard tread,
Being loose, unfirm with digging up of Graves,
But thou shall hear it: whittle then to me,
As signal that thou hearest some thing approach,
Give me those flowers. Do as I bid thee, go.
Pag. I am almost afraid to stand alone

Here in the Churchyard, yet I will adventure.

Exit.

*Pa.* Sweet Flower, with flowers thy Bridal bed I strew:
O woe, thy Canopy is duft and flones,
Which with sweet water nightly I will dew,
Or wanting that, with tears diffi'd by mones;
The obfequies that I for thee will keep,
Nightly shall be, to strew thy grave, and weep.

*Whistle Boy.*

The Boy gives warning, something doth approach,
What curfed mis wanders this way to night,
To crofs my obfequies, and true loves right ?
What with a Torch? Muffle me night a while.

*Enter Romeo and Peter.*

*Roms.* Give me that Mattock, and the wrenching Iron,
Hold take this Letter, early in the morning
See thou deliver it to my Lord and Father,
Give me the Light : upon thy life I charge thee,
What ere thou heat'st or feel'st, stand all aloof,
And do not interrupt me in my course.

VVhy I defcnd into this bed of death,
Is partly to behold my Ladies face :
But chiefly to take thence from her dead finger,
A precious Ring : a Ring that I muſt uſe,
In dear employment, therefore hence be gone:
But if thou jealous doſt return to prie
In what I further shall intend to do,
By heaven I will tear thee joynt by joynt,
And strew this hungry Churchyard with thy limbs :

The time, and my intents are favage wild :
Mo e fierce, and more inexorable far,
Then empty Tygers, or the roaring Sea.

*Pet.* I will be gone fir, and not trouble you.

*Ro.* So (halt thou) then Ilew me friendſhip : take that,
Live and be p[ro]ſperous, and farewel good ſellow.

*Pet.* For all this fame, Ile hide me here about,

His lookes I fear, and his intents I doubt.

Exit.

*Roms.* Thou deereſtable maw, thou womb of death,
Gorg'd with the deareſt morſel of the earth :
Thus I enforce thy rotten Jawes to open,
And in deſpoight, Ile cram thee with more food.

*Par.* This is that banifht haughty Mountague,

That murdred my Loves Cozin; with which grief,
It is ſuppofed the fair Creature died,
And here is come to do ſome villanous ſhame
To the dead bodies: I will apprehend him.

Stop thy unhallowed toyl, vile Mountague :
Can vengeance be purſued further then death ?
Condemned villain, I do apprehend thee.

Obey and go with me, for thou muſt die,

*Roms.* I muſt indeed, and therefore came I hither.
Good gentle youth, tempt not a deſperate man,
Flie hence and leave me, think upon those gone,
Let them affright thee. I beſeech thee Youth,
Put not another fin upon my head,
By urging me to fury. O begone,

By heaven I love thee better then my ſelf,
For I come hither arm'd againſt my ſelf :
Stay not, be gone, live , and here. ſter ſay,
A mad mans mercy bid thee run away.

*Par.* I do defie thy commiseration,
And apprehend thee for a Fellon here.

*Ro.* Wilt thou provoke me? Then have at thee Boy.

*Pet.* O Lord they fight, I will go call the Watch.

*Pa.* O I am ſlain, if thou be merciful,

Open the Tomb, lay me with *Juliet*.

*Roms.* In faith I will, let me perſuse this face,
*Mercuiuus* Kinfman, Noble County *Paris*,

What ſaid my man, when my betoſſed ſoul
Did not attend him as we rode? I think
He told me *Paris* ſhould have married *Juliet*.

Said he not ſo? Or did I dream it ſo?

Or am I mad, hearing him talk of *Juliet*,
To think it was ſo? O give me thy hand,
One, writ with me in ſowr misfortunes book,
Ile bury thee in a triumphant grave.

A Grave, O no a Lanthorn; ſlaughtër Youth :

For here lies *Juliet*, and her beauty makes

This Vault a feaſting prefence full of light.

Death be thou there, by a dead man inter'd.

How oft when men are at the point of death,

Have they been merry? which their Keepers call

A lightning before death? Oh how may I

Call this a lightning? O my Love, my Wife,

Death that hath fuckt the honey of thy breath,

Hath had no power yet upon thy Beauty :

Thou art not conquer'd, Beauties enfign yet

Is Crimſon in thy lips, and in thy cheekes,

And Deaths pale flag is not advanced there.

*Tybals*, ly'ſt thou there in thy bloudy ſheet?

O what more favour can I do to thee,

Then with that hand that cut thy youth in twain,
To funder his that was thy enemy?

Forgive me Cozen. Ah dear *Juliet*:

Why art thou yet ſo fair? I will believe,

Shall I believe, that unſubſtantial death is amorous ?

And that the lean abhorred Monster keeps

Thee here in dark to be his Paramour?

For fear of that, I filll will ſay with thee,

And never from this Palace of dim night

Depart again: come lie thou in my Armes,

Here's to thy health, where ere thou tumbleſt in.

O true Apothecary !

Thy drugs are quick. Thus with a kifs I die,

Depart again; here, here will I remain,

With Wormes that are thy Chamber-maides : O here

Will I ſet up my everlaſting reſt:

And ſhake the yoke of inauspicious ſtars

From this worlds wearied fleth: Eyes look your laſt :

Armes take your laſt embrace: And lips, O you

The doores of breath, ſeel with a righteous kifs

A dateleſs bargain to engroſing death :

Come bitter conduct, come unflavoury guide,

Thou deſperate Pilot, now at once run on

The daſhing Rocks, thy Sez-fick weary Bark :

Here's to my Love. O true Apothecary :

Thy

663

Thy drugs are quick. Thus with a kiffe I die.

Enter Frier with Lanthorn, Crow, and Spade,

Fri. St. Francis be my speed, how oft to night

Have my old feet flumbled at graves ? Who's there ?

Man. Here's one, a Friend, and one that knows you well.

Fri. Bliffe be upon you, Tell me good my friend

What Torch is yond, that vainly lends his light

To grubs and eyeleffie Sculls ? As discern,

It burneth in the Capels Monument.

Man. It doth so holy fir,

And there's my Mafter, one that you love.

Fri. Who is it ?

Man. Romeo.

Fri. How long hath he been there ?

Man. Full half an hour.

Fri. Go with me to the Vault.

Man. I dare not Sir.

My Mafter knows not but I am gone hence,
And fearfully did menace me with death,
If I did fly to look on his incens.

Fri. Stay, then ile goe alone, fears come upon me.

O much I fear some ill unlucky thing.

Man. As I did sleep under this young tree here,
I dreamt my Mafter and another fought,
And that my Mafter flew him.

Fri. Romeo.

Alack, alack, what blood is this which flains

The fony entrance of this Sepulchre ?

What mean these Musterleffie and goary Swords
To lie difcolour'd by this place of peace ?

Romeo, oh pale : who elfe ? what Paris too ?

And sleep'd in blood ? Ah what an unkind hour

Is guilty of this lamentable chance ?

The Lady flirs.

Juli. O comfortable Frier, where's my Lord ?

I do remember well where I should be :

And there I am, where is my Romeo ?

Fri. I hear some noife Lady, come from that neft
Of death, contagion, and unnatural sleep,

A greater power then we can contradict

Hath thwarted our intents, come, come away,
Thy Husband in thy boſom there lies dead :

And Paris too: come ile difpofe of thee,

Among a Sifterhood of holy Nunnes :

Stay not to question, for the Watch is coming,

Come, go good Juliet, I dare no longer fly.

Exit.

Juli. Go get thee hence, for I will not away,
What's here ? a cup clos'd in my true loves hand ?

Poison I fee hath been his timeleſſe end

O churle, drink all ? and left no friendly drop,

To help me after, I will kiffe thy lips,

Happily fome poifon yet doth hang on them,

To make me die with a reforative.

Thy lips are warm.

Enter Boy and Watcho.

Watch. Lead Boy, which way ?

Juli. Yea noife ?

Then ile be brief. O happy Dagger.

Tis in thy leath, there ruff and let me die.

Kils her selfe.

Boy. This is the place,

There where the Torch doth burn,

Watch. The ground is bloody,

Search about the Churchyard.

Go fome of you, who ere you find attach.

Pittyful fight, here lies the County flain,

And Juliet bleeding, warm, and newly dead

Who here hath lain theſe two daies buried.

Go tell the Prince, run to the Capulets,

Raife up the Moutnagues, ſome others ſearch,

We fee the ground whereon theſe woes do lye.

But the true ground of all theſe pitteous woes,

We cannot without circumſtance defery.

Enter Romeo's man.

Wat. Here's Romeo's man,

We found him in the Churchyard.

Con. Hold him in safety, till the Prince comes hither.

Enter Frier and another Watchman.

3. Wat. Here is a Frier that trembles, fights, and weeps :

We took this Mattock and this Spade from him,

As he was coming from this Church-yard ſide.

Con. A great ſuſpition, ſtay the Frier too.

Enter the Prince.

Pri. What miſadventure is ſo early up,

That calls my perſon from our mornings reſt ?

Enter Capulet and his wife.

Cap. What ſhould it be that they ſo ſhrike abroad ?

Wif. O the people in the freeer cry Romeo.

Some Juliet, and ſome Paris, and all run

With open out-cry toward our Monument.

Pri. What fear is this which ſtartles in your ears ?

Wat. Soveraigne, here lies the County Paris ſlain,

And Romeo dead, and Juliet dead before,

Warm and new kill'd.

Pri. Search,

Seek, and know how, this foul murther comes.

Wat. Here is a Frier, and ſlaughter'd Romeo's man,

With instruments upon them fit to open

Theſe dead mens Tombs.

Cap. O heaven !

O wife look how our daughter bleeds !

This Dagger hath miſtain, for loe his houſe

Is empty on the back of Mountague,

And is miſheathed in my Daughters boſom.

Wif. O me, this fight of death, is as a Bell

That warns my old age to a Sepulcher.

Enter Mountague.

Pri. Come Mountague, for thou art early up

To fee thy Son and Heir now early down.

Moun. Alas my Liege, my wife is dead to night,

Grief of my Sons exile hath ſtopt her breath :

What further woe confpires againſt my age ?

Pri. Look : and thou ſhalt fee.

Mou. O thou untaught, what manners is in this,

To prefle before thy Father to a Grave ?

Pri. Seal up the mouth of out-rage for a while,

Till we can clear theſe ambiguities,

And know their ſpring, their head, their true defcent,

And then will I be general of your woes,

And lead you even to death, mean time forbear,

And let miſchance be ſlave to patience,

Bring forth the parties of ſuſpicion.

Fri. I am the greatest, able to do leaſt,

Yet moſt ſuſpected as the time and place

Doth make againſt me, of this direful murther :

And here I land both to impeach and purge

My self condemned, and my ſelf excus'd.

Pri. Then ſay at once what thou doſt know in this ?

Fri. I will be brief, for my ſhort date of breath
Is not ſo long as is a tedious tale.

Romeo there dead, was husband to that Juliet,

And ſhe there dead, that's Romeo's faithful wife :

I married them; and their foltn marriage day
Was *Tybales* Doomeday: whole untimely death
Banif'd the new-made Bridegroom from this City:
For whom (and not for *Tybali*) *Juliet* pin'd.

You, to remove that fiuege of grief' from her,
Betroth'd, and would have married her perforce
To County *Paris*. Then comes she to me,
And (with wild looks) bid me devise some means
To rid her from this second marriage,
Or in my Cell there would she kill her self.

Then gave I her (so tutored by my Art)

A fleeping Potion, which so took effect
As I intended, for it wrought on her

The form of death. Mean time I wait to *Romeo*,
That he should hither come, as this dire night,
To help to take her from her borrowed grave,
Being the time the Potions force should ceise.

But he which bore my Letter, Frier *John*,
Was (ay'd by accident; and yefernight
Return'd my Letter back, then all alone,

At the prefixed hour of her waking,
Came I to take her from her kindreds vault,
Meaning to keep her closely at my Cell,
Til I conveniently could fend to *Romeo*.

But when I came (some Minute ere the time
Of her awaking) here untimely lay

The Noble *Paris* and true *Romeo* dead.

She wakes, and I intreated her come forth,
And hear this work of Heaven, with patience:
But then, a noife did scare me from the Tomb,
And she (too deliberate) would not go with me,
But (as it seems) did violence on her self.

All this I know, and to the Marriage her Nurse is privy:
And if ought in this miscarried by my fault,

Let my old life be sacrific'd some hour before the time,
Unto the rigor of feverest Law.

Pri. We still have known thee for a holy man.

Where's *Romeo's* man ? What can he say to this ?

Boy. I brought my Mafer news of *Juliet's* death,

And then in poite he came from *Mantua*

To this fame place, to this fame Monument.

This Letter he early bid me give his Father,
And threatened me with death, going in the Vault;
If I departed not, and left him there.

Prin. Give me the Letter, I will look on it.

Where is the County Page that rais'd the Watch?
Sirrat, what made you Mafer in this place?

Pag. He came with Flowers to fly his Ladies grave
And bid me fland aloof, and so I did:

Anon comes one with light to ope the Tomb

And by and by my Mafer drew on him,

And then I ran away to call the Watch.

Priu. This Letter doth make good the Friers words,
Their course of Love, the ridings of her death:

And here he writes, that he did buy a poyfon
Of a poor Potbecary, and there withall
Came to this Vault to die, and lie with *Juliet*,

Where be thesefie enemies ? *Capulet Mountague*,

See what a fcurge is laid upon your hate,

That Heaven finds means to kill your joyes with Love;

And I, for winking at your discords too,

Have loff a brace of kinfmen: All are punif'h'd.

Cap. O Brother *Mountague*, give me thy hand,
This is my Daughters joynture, for no more
Can I demand.

Moun. But I can give thee more:

For I will raife her Statue in pure Gold,
That whiles *Verona* by that name is known,
There shall no figure at that Rate be fet,
As that of True and Faithful *Juliet*.

Cap. As rich shall *Romeo* by his Lady lie,
Poor sacrifices of our enmity.

Priu. A glooming peace this morning with it brings,
The Sun for forrow will not shew his head ;
Go hence, to have more talk of thefe fad things,
Some shall be pardon'd, and fome punifhed.

For never was a Story of more woe

Then this of *Juliet*, and her *Romeo*.

Exeunt omnes.

FINIS.

Timon of Athens.

669

Ape. Till I be gentle, itay thou for thy good morrow.
When thou art Timons dog, and thefe Knaves honest.

Tim. Why doft thou call them Knaves, thou knowst them not?

Ape. Are they not Athenians?

Tim. Yes.

Ape. Then I repent not.

Jew. You know me, Apemantus ?

Ape. Thou knowst I do, I call'd thee by thy name.

Tim. Thou art proud Apemantus.

Ape. Of nothing fo much, as that I am not like Timon.

Tim. Whether art going ?

Ape. To knock out an honest Athenians brains.

Tim. That's a deed thou't die for.

Ape. Right, if doing nothing be death by th' Law.

Tim. How lik't thou this Picture Apemantus ?

Ape. The beft, for the innocence.

Tim. Wrought he not well that painted it?

Ape. He wrought better that made the Painter, and yet he's but a filthy piece of work.

Pain. Y'are a Dog.

Ape. Thy Mothers of my generation : what's the, if I
be a Dog ?

Tim. Wilt dine with me Apemantus ?

Ape. No, I eat not Lords.

Tim. And thou shouldst it, thou'dt anger Ladies.

Ape. O they eat Lords ?

So they come by great bellies.

Tim. That's a laflicious apprehension.

Ape. So thou apprehendt it.

Take it for thy labour.

Tim. How doft thou like this Jewel, Apemantus ?

Ape. Not so well as plain-dealing, which will not coft a man a Doit.

Tim. What doft thou think tis worth ?

Ape. Not worth my thinking.

How now Poet ?

Poet. How now Philosopher ?

Ape. Thou lyeft.

Poet. Art not one ?

Ape. Yes.

Poet. Then I lie not.

Ape. Art not a Poet ?

Poet. Yes.

Ape. Then thou lieſt :

Look in thy laſt work, where thou haſt feign'd him a wor-
thy Fellow.

Poet. That's not feign'd, he is ſo.

Ape. Yes he is worthy of thee, and to pay thee for thy labour. He that loves to be flattered, is worthy o'th' flatterer. Heavens, that I were a Lord.

Tim. What wouldt do then Apemantus ?

Ape. Ene as Apemantus does now, hate a Lord with my heart.

Tim. What thy ſelf ?

Ape. I.

Tim. Wherefore ?

Ape. That I had no angry wit to be a Lord.

Art not thou a Merchant ?

Mer. I Apemantus.

Ape. Traffick confound thee, if the gods will not.

Mer. If Traffick do it, the gods do it.

Ape. Trafficke thy god, and thy god confound thee.
Trumpet founds. Enter a Messenger.

Tim. What Trumpet's that ?

Mef. 'Tis Alcibiades, and fome twenty horſe

All of Companionship.

Tim. Pray entertain them, give them guide to us,
You muſt needs dine with me: go not you hence
Till I have thankt you : and when dinner's done
Shew me this piece, I am joyful of your fight.
Enter Alcibiades with the reſt.

Moft welcom Sir.

Ape. So, ſo; their Aches contract, and flarve your ſup-
ple Jojynts : that there ſhould be ſmall love amongst theſe
iweet Knaves, and all this Curſeſe. The ſtrain of man's
bred out into Baboon and Monkey.

Alci. Sir, you have fav'd my longing, and I feed

Moft hungerly on your fight.

Tim. Right welcom Sir.

Ere we depart, we'll share a bounteous time

In different pleafures.

Pray you let us in.

Exeunt.
Enter two Lords.

1. Lord. What time a day is it, Apemantus ?

Ape. Time to be honest.

1. That time ferves full.

Ape. The moſt accuſed thou that fill omitſt it.

2. Thou art going to Lord Timons Feaſt.

Ape. I, to fee meat fill Knaves, and Wine heat fooles.

2. Farthee well, farthee well.

Ape. Thou art a fool to bid me farewell twice.

2. Why Apemantus ?

Ape. Shouldt have kept one to thy ſelf, for I mean to give thee none.

1. Hang thy ſelf.

Ape. No I will do nothing at thy bidding :

Make thy requeſts to thy Friend.

2. Away unpenceable Dog,

Or Ile ſpurn thee hence.

Ape. I will fly like a dog, the heeles a'th' Aſſe.

1. Hees oppoſite to humanity.

Come shall we in,

And taſt Lord Timons bounty : he outgoes

The very heart of kindneſs.

2. He powres it out : Plutus the god of gold

Is but his Steward; no meed but he repaies

Seven-fold above it ſelf: No gift to him,

But breeds the giver a return : exceeding
All uſe of quittance.

1. The Noblenſt mind he carries,

That ever govern'd man.

2. Long may he live in Fortunes: Shall we in ?

Ile keep your company.

Exeunt.

Hoboyes Playing, Lowd Muſick.

A great Banquet ſerv'd in: and then. Enter Lord Timon, the States, the Athenian Lords, Ventigius which Timon redeemed from prifon. Then comes dropping after all, Apemantus discountedly like himself.

~ Ventig. Moſt honoured Timon,

It hath pleas'd the gods to remember my fathers age,

And call him to long peace :

He is gone happy, and his left me rich :

Then, as in grateful Vertue I am bound

To your free heart, I do return thofe Talents

Doubled with thanks and ſervice, from whose help

I deriv'd liberty.

Tim. O by no means,

Honest Ventigius : you miſtake my Love,
L 11

I gave

670

Timon of Athens.

I gave it freely ever, and there's none

Can truly fay he gives, if he receives :

If our betters play at that game, we must not dare

To imitate them. Faults that are rich are fair.

Vem. A Noble spirit.

Tim. Nay my Lords, Ceremony was but devis'd at first
To fet a glois on faint deeds, hollow welcomes,

Recanting goodness, forty ere 'tis shewn :

But where there is true friendship, there needs none.

Pray fit, more welcome are ye to my Fortunes,

Then my Fortunes to me.

1 Lord. My Lord, we alwaies have confest it.

Ape. Ho, ho, confest it ? hang'd it ? have you not at

Tim. O Apemanus, you are welcome.

Ape. No: you shall not make me welcome.

I come to have thee thrust me out of doores.

Tim. Eye, th'art an Churle, ye have got a humour there
Does not become a man, tis much to blame :

They fay my Lords, Ira fuer brevis eft,

But yond man is very angry.

Go, let him have a Table by himself:

For he does neither affect company,

Nor is he fit for't indeed.

Ape. Let me fay at thine apperil Timon,
I come to obferve, I give thee warning on't.

Tim. I take no heed of thee; Th'art an Athenian, there-
fore welcom: I my self would have no power, prethee
let my meat make thee silent.

Ape. I fcom thy meat, twou'd choak me: for I should
nere flatter thee. Oh you gods! What a number of men
eates Timon, and he fees em not ? It grieves me to see so
many dip their meat in one mans blond, and all the mad-
nefs is, he cheeres them up too.

I wonder men dare truft themselves with men.

Methinkes they should invite them without knives,

Good for their meat, and safer for their lives.

There's much example for't, the fellow that fits next him
now parts bread with him, pledges the breath of him in
a divided draught: is the readieft man to kill him. 'Tas
been proved, if I were a huge man, I should fear to drink
at meales, left they should fpy my wind-pipes dangerous
notes, great men should drink with harnefs on their
throats.

Tim. My Lord in heart: and let the health go round.

2 Lord. Let it flow this way my good Lord.

Ape. Flow this way ? A brave fellow. He keeps his tides
well, thofe healths will make thee and thy ftate look ill,
Timon.

Heres that which is too weak to be a finner,
Honeſt water, which nere left man'th'mire:

This and my food are equal, there's no ods,

Feaſts are too proud to give thanks to the gods.

Apemanus Grace.

Immortal gods, I crave no pelf,

I pray for no man but my self,

Grant I may never prove so fond,

To truſt man on his Oath or Bond.

Or a Harlot for her weeping.

Or a Dog that feemes a ſleeping.

Or a keeper with my freedom,

Or my friends' if I should need em.

Amen. So fall to't :

Rich men fin, and I eat root.

Much good dich thy good heart, Apemanus.

Tim. Captain,

Alcibiades, your heart's in the field now.

Aci. My heart is ever at your ſervice, my Lord.

Tim. You had rather be at a breakſt of Enemies, then
a dinner of Friends.

Aci. So they were bleeding new my Lord, there's no
meat like em, I could with my friend at ſuch a Feaſt.

Ape. Would all thole flatterers were thine Enemies
then, that then thou mightſt kill em: and bid me to em.

1 Lord. Might we but have that happiſely my Lord, that
you would once uſe our hearts, whereby we might expreſs
fome part of our zeales, we should think our ſelves forever
perfect.

Tim. Oh no doubt my good Friends, but the gods them-
felves have provided that I shall have much help from you:
How had you been my Friends eſſe ? Why have you that
charitable title from thou'nds ? Did not you chiefly
belong to my heart ? I have told more of you to my ſelf,
then you can with modety ſpeak in your own behalf.
And thus far I confirm you. Oh you gods ( think I)
what need we have any Friends; if we should nere
have need of em ? They were the moſt needleſs Crea-
tures living; should we nere have uſe for em ? And
would moſt reſemble freeſ instruments hung up in Cafes,
that keep their founds to themselves. Why I have often
wrought my ſelf poorer, that I might come neerer to you:
we are born to do benefits. And what better or proper-
er can we call our own, then the riches of our friends?
Oh what a precious comfort is to have so many like Bro-
thers commanding one anothers Fortunes ! Oh joyes,
e'ne made away ere't can be born, mine eyes cannot
hold out water me thinkes to forget their faults. I drink
to you:

Ape. Thou weep't to make them drink Timon.

2 Lord. Joy had the like conception in our eyes,
And at that inſtant, like a babe ſprung up.

Ape. Ho, ho: I laugh to think that gabe a baſtard.

3 Lord. I promife you my Lord you mov'd me much.

Ape. Much.

Sound Tucket. Enter the Maskers of Amazons with
Lutes in their hands, dancing and playing.

Tim. What meanes that Trumpe ? How now?

Enter Servant.

Ser. Pleafe you my Lord, there are certain Ladies
Moft defirous of admittance.

Tim. Ladies ? What are their wills ?

Ser. There comes with them a fore-runner my Lord,
which beares that office, to ſignify their pleatures.

Tim. I pray let them be admitted.

Enter Cupid with the Mask of Ladies.

Cup. Hail to thee worthy Timon and to all that of
his Bounties taſt: the five beſt Sences acknowledge thee
their Patron, and come freely to gratulate thy plenteous
Boſom.

There taſt, touch all, pleas'd from thy Table rife:
They only now come but to Feaſt thine eyes.

Tim. Their welcom all, let em have kind admittance.
Mufick make their welcom.

Luc. You fee my Lord, how ample ye are below'd.

Ape. Hoyday,

What a sweep of vanity comes this way.

They dance ? They are mad women.

Like

Like Mad
As this po
We make
And ſpen
Upon who
With poi
Who live
Who die
Of their
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Would I
Men flut

The Lords
to ſhe
Dance
Hobos

Tim.

Much gra-
ses a fair
Which wa
You have
And enter
I am to the

1. Lor.

Ape.

ing, I
Tim.

Pleas

All La

Tim.

Fla. M

Tim.

Fla. Y

There is no
Eſſe I do
When all
Tis pitty
That man

1. Lor.

Ser. H

2. Lor.

Tim.

I have one

I mult in

As to adv.
Kind my

1. Lor.

All. So

Ser. N
newly ali
Tim.

Fla. I
does con
Tim. N
I prethee
Fla. I

Ser. N
(Out of h
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Tim.
Be worth

Timon of Athens.

671

Like Madneſſe is the glory of this life,

As this pomp ſhews to a little oyle and root.

We make our ſelves fools, to diſport our ſelves,

And ſpend our Flatteries, to drink thate men,

Upon whole age we void it up agen

With poſtuous Spight and Envy.

Who lives, that's not depraved, or depraves ;

Who dies, that bears not one ſpurn to their graves

Of their friends gift :

I should fear, that of dance before me now,
Would one day ſtamp upon me: 'T as been done,
Men flut their doors againſt a fetting Sunne.

The Lords rife from Table, with much adoring of Timon, and
to ſhow their loves, each single out an Amazon, and all
Dance, men with women, a loſſy strain or two to the
Hoboyes, and ceafe.

Tim. You have done our pleatures

Much grace (fair Ladies)

Sets a fair fashion on our entertainment,

Which was not half so beautiful, and kind :

You have added worth unto't, and lively luſter,

And entertain'd me with mine own device.

I am to thank you for't.

1. Lord. My Lord you take us even at the beſt.

Ape. Faith for the worſt is filthy, and would not hold
taking, I doubt me.

Tim. Ladies, there is an idle banquet attends you.

Pleafe you to diſpoſe your ſelves.

All La. Moſt thankfully, my Lord.

Tim. Flavius.

Fla. My Lord.

Tim. The little Casket, bring me hither.

Fla. Yes, my Lord. More Jewels yet ?

There is no croſſing him in's humour,

Elſe I should tell him well, if aith I ſhould,

When all's ſpent, he'd be croſſ then, and he could :

Tis pitty Bounty had not eies behind,

That man might nere be wretched for his mind.

1. Lord. Where be our men ?

Ser. Here my Lord in readineſſe.

2. Lord. Our horſes.

Tim. O my Friends ;

I have one word to ſay to you : Look you, my good Lord :

I muſt intreat you honour me ſo much,

As to advance this Jewel, accept, and wear it,

Kind my Lord.

1. Lord. I am ſo farre already in your giſts,

All. So are we all.

Enter a Servant.

Ser. My Lord, there are certain Nobles of the Senate
newly alighted, and come to viſit you.

Tim. They are fairly welcome.

Enter Flavius.

Fla. I beſeech your Honour, vouchſaſe me a word, it
does concern you neer.

Tim. Neer? why then another time Ile hear thee.

I prethee let's be provided to ſhow them entertainment.

Fla. I ſcare you know how.

Enter another Servant.

Ser. May it pleafe your honour, Lord Lucius
(Out of his free Love) hath preſented to you
Four Milk-white Horſes, trapt in Silver.

Tim. I shall accept them fairly : let the Preſents
Be worthily entertain'd.

Enter a third Servant.

How now ? What news ?

3. Ser. Please you my Lord, that honourable Gentleman Lord Lucullus, entreats your company to morrow, to hunt with him, and ha's ſent your honor two brace of Grey-bounds.

Tim. Ile hunt with him.

And let them be received, not without fair Reward.

Fla. What will this come to ?

He commands us to provide, and give great giſts, and all
out of an empty Coſter :

Nor will he know his purſe, or yield me this,

To ſhow him what a Beggar his heart is,

Being of no power to make his wifhes good,

His promiſes flye so beyond his ſtate.

That what he ſpeaks is all in debt, owes for eu'ry word :

He is ſo kind, that he now paies intereſt for't;

His Lands put to their Books. Well, would I were

Gently put out of office, ere I were forſc'd:

Happier is he that has no friend to feed,

Then ſuch that do e'ne Enemies exceed.

I bleed inwardly for my Lord.

Exeunt.

Tim. You do your ſelves much wrong,

You bate too much of your own merits.

Here my Lord, a trifle of our love.

2. Lord. With more then common thanks

I will receive it.

3. Lord. O has the very foul of bounty.

Tim. And now I remember my Lord, you gave good
words the other day of a Bay Courſer I rode on. Tis yours
becaufe you lik'd it.

1 L. Oh, I beſeech you, pardon me, my Lord, in that.

Tim. You may take my word my Lord: I know no
man can juſtly prieſe, but what he does affect. I weigh
my friends affection with mine own? Ile tell you true,
Ile call to you.

All Lor. O noneſo welcome.

Tim. I take all, and your ſeveral viſitations

So kind to heart, tis not enough to give :

Me thinks, I could deal kingdoms to my friends,

And nere be weary. Alcibiades,

Thou art a ſouldier, therefore ſeldom rich,

I: comes in charity to thee; for all thy living

Is'mongſt the dead: and all the Lands thou haſt

Lye in a pitch-field.

Alci. I deſie Land, my Lord.

1. Lord. We are ſo vertuouſly bound.

Tim. And ſo am I to you.

2. Lord. So infinitely endeere'd.

Tim. All to you. Lights, more Lights, more Light.

1. Lord. The beſt of Happines, Honour, and Fortunes,
Keep with you Lord Timon.

Tim. Ready for his friends.

Exeunt Lords.

Aper. What a coils here, ſerving of becks, and jutting
out of bummes, I doubt whether their leggs be worth
the fummes that are given for 'em.

Friendships full of dreggs,

Me thinks falſe hearts should never have found leggs.

Thus honest fools lay out their wealth on Courſies.

Tim. Now Apermanus (if thou wert not ſullen)
I would be good to thee.

Aper. No, ile nothing; for if I should be brib'd too,
there would be none left to rail upon thee, and then thou
wouldſt ſinne the faſler. Thou giv't ſo long Timon (I
fear me) thou wilt give away thy ſelf in paper ſhortly.
What need theſe Feaſts, Pomps, and Vain-glories ?

L 1 1 2

Tim.

672

Timon of Athens.

Tim. Nay, and you begin to rail on Society once, I
am frown not to give regard to you. Farewell, and come
with better Mufick. Exit.

Aper. So: thou wilt not hear me now, thou fhalt not
then. He lock thy heaven from thee :

Oh that mens ears should be

To Counfell deaf, but not to flattery.

Exit.

Enter a Senator.

Sen. And late five thoufand : to Varro and to Ifidore
He owes nine thoufand, befides my former fumme,
Which makes it five and twenty. Still in motion
Of raging waſte ? it cannot hold, it will not.

If I want Gold, Ical but a Beggers Dog,

And give it Timon, why the Dogge coynes Gold.
If I would fell my horſe, and buy twenty more
Better then he ; why give my horſe to Timon.

Aske nothing, give it him, it Foals me fraight

An able Horſe: No Porter at his gate,

But rather one that ſmiles, and ſill invites

All that pafle by. It cannot hold, no reafon

Can found his ſtate in safety. Caphis hoa.

Caphis I lay.

Enter Caphis.

Caph. Here fir, what is your pleafure ?

Sen. Get on your cloak, and haſte you to Lord Timon
Importune him for my monies, be not ceaſt
With flight denial ; nor then filenc'd, then
Commend me to your Maſter, and the Cap

Plaies in the right hand, tlaus : but tell him firrah

My ufes cry to me; I muſt ſerve my turn
Out of mine own, his daies and times are paſt,
And my reliances on his fraſted dates
Have ſmit my credit. I love and honour him,
But muſt not break my back, to heal his finger.

Immediate are my needs, and my relief
Muſt not be toſt and turn'd to me in words,
But find ſupply immediate. Get you gone,
Put on a moſt importunate aspect,

A viſage of demand: for I do fear.

When every feather flicks in his own wing,

Lord Timon will be left a naked gull,

Which flaſhes now a Phenix, get you gone.

Ca. I go fir.

Sen. I goe fir ?

Take the Bonds along with you,

And have the dates in. Come.

Ca. I will Sir.

Sen. Goe.

Exeunt.

Enter Steward, with many Bills in his hand.

Stew. No care, no ſtop, to ſenſeleſe of expence,
Tha't he will neither know how to maintain it,
Nor ceaſe his flow of Riot. Takes no account
How things go from him, nor ſeume no care
Of what is to continue : never mind

Was to be ſo unwife, to be ſo kind.

What ſhall be done, he will not hear, till ſeel :

I muſt be round with him, now he comes from hunting.
Fie, ſie, ſie, ſie.

Enter Caphis, Ifidore, and Varro.

Ca. Good even Varro, what, you come for money ?

Var. Is't not your buſineſſe too ?

Cap. It is, and yours too, Ifidore ?

Ifid. It is to.

Cap. Would we were all diſcharg'd.

Var. I fear it.

Cap. Here comes the Lord.

Enter Timon, and his Train.

Tim. So ſoon as dinners done, wee'l forth again

My Alcibiades. With me, what is your will ?

Cap. My Lord, here is a note of certain dues.

Tim. Dues ? whence are you ?

Cap. Of Athens here : my Lord.

Tim. Goe to my Steward.

Cap. Pleafe it your Lordſhip, he hath put me off

To the ſucceſſion of new daies this moneth :

My Maſter is awak'd by great occafion,

To call upon his own, and humbly prays you,

That with your other Noble parts, you'll ſuit,

In giving him his right.

Tim. Mine honeſt friend,

I prethe but repair to me next morning.

Cap. Nay good my Lord.

Tim. Contain thy ſelf good friend.

Var. One Varro's ſervant, my good Lord.

Ifid. From Ifidore, he humbly prays your ſpeedy pay-
ment.

Cap. If you did know my Lord, my Maſters wants.

Var. Twas due on forfeiture my Lord, ſix weeks, and paſt.

Ifid. Your Steward puts me off my Lord, and I
Am ſent expreſſely to your Lordſhip.

Tim. Give me breath :

I do bereech you your good my Lords keep on,

Ile wait upon you inſtantly. Come hither : pray you

How goes the world that I am thus encounſtred

With clamorous demands of debt, broken Bonds,

And the detention, long ſince due debts

Againſt my Honour?

Stew. Pleafe you Gentlemen,

The time is unagreeable to this buſineſſe :

Your importunacy ceaſe, till after dinner,

That I may make his Lordſhip underſtand

Wherefore you are not paid.

Tim. Do ſo my friends, fee them well entertain'd.

Stew. Pray draw neere.

Exiſ.

Enter Apemantus and Fool.

Caph. Stay, itay, here comes the Fool with Apeman-
tus, lets ha ſome ſport with em.

Var. Hang him, hee'l abufe us.

Ifid. A plague upon him dog.

Var. How doſt Fool ?

Ape. Doſt Dialogue with thy ſhadow ?

Var. I ſpeak not to thee.

Ape. No tis to thy ſelf. Come away.

Ifid. There's the Fool hangs on your back already.

Ape. No thou ſtandt ſingle, thou art not on him yet.

Cap. Where's the fool now ?

Ape. He laſt ask'd the queſtion. Poor Rogues and
Uſurers men, Bauds between Gold and want.

All. What are we Apemantus ?

Ape. Aſſes.

All. Why ?

Ape. That you ask me what you are, and do not know
your ſelves. Speak to em fool.

Fool. How do you Gentlemen ?

All. Gramerieſs good Fool :

How does your Miftrifs ?

Fool.

674

Timon of Athens.

### Enter three Servants.

Ser. My Lord, my Lord.

Tim. I will dispatch you feversally.

You to Lord Lucius, to Lord Lucullus you, I hunted with his Honour to day; you to Sempronius; commend me to their loves, and I am proud fay, that my occasions have found time to use'em toward a supply of money: let the requie be fifty Talents.

Flam. As you have said, my Lord.

Stew. Lord Lucius and Lucullus? Hum?

Tim. Go you fir to the Senators ;

Of whom, even to the States beſt health, I have
Deſerv'd this hearing; bid'em ſend o'th' inſtant
A thouſand Talents to me.

Stew. I have been bold.

(For that I knew it the moſt general way.)

To them, to uſe your Signet, and your Name,
But they do ſake their heads, and I am here
No richer in return.

Tim. Is't true? Can't be?

Stew. They anſwer in a joynſt and corporate voyce,
That now they are at fall, want Treſure, cannot
Do what they would, are forſy: you are Honourable,
But yet they could have wifht, they know not,
Something hath been amifs; a Noble Nature
May catch a wrench; would all were well; 'tis pity
And ſo intending other ſerious matters,
After diſaſtful lookes; and these hard Fractions,
With certain half-caps, and cold moving nods,
They froze me into ſilence.

Tim. You gods reward them :

Prythee man look chearly. These old Fellows

Have their ingratitude in them Hereditary :

Their bloud is cald, 'tis cold, it ſeldom flowes,

'Tis lack of kindly warmth, they are not kind ;

And Nature, as it growes again toward earth,

Is ſhiond for the journey, dull and heavy.

Go to Venidius (prythee be not ſad,

Thou art true, and honesſ; ingeniously I ſpeak,

No blame belongs to thee :) Venidius lately.

Buried his Father, by whose death he's ſtepp'd

Into a great eſtate : when he was poor,

Imprion'd, and in ſcacity of Friends,

I cleer'd him with five Talents. Greet him from me,

Bid him ſuppofe, ſome good neceſſity.

Touches his Friends, which craves to be remembred

With those five Talents; that had, give't theſe Fellows

To whom 'tis inſtant due. Ne'er ſpeak, or think,

That Timons fortunes 'mong his friends can ſink.

Stew. I would I could not think it :

That thought is Bounties Foe :

Being free it ſelf, it thinkes all others ſo.

Exeunt.

### Flaminius waiting to speak with a Lord from his Maſter,
enters a ſervant to him.

Ser. I have told my Lord of you, he is coming down to you.

Flam. I thank you Sir.

### Enter Lucullus.

Ser. Heres my Lord.

Luc. One of Lord Timons men ? A Gift I warrant.

Why this hits right: I dreamt of a Silver Baſon and
Ewre to night. Flaminius, honesſ Flaminius, you are ve-
ty respectively welcome fir. Fill me some Wine. And
how does that honourable; Compleat, Free-hearted

Gentleman of Athens, thy very bountiful good Lord and
Maſter.

Flam. His health is well fir.

Luc. I am right glad that his health is well fir: and what
haſt thou there under thy Cloak, pretty Flaminius?

Flam. Faith, nothing but an empty box Sir, which in my
Lords behalf, I come to encreat your honour to ſupply,
who having great and inſant occasion to uſe fifty Talenes:
hath ſent to your Lordſhip to furniſh him nothing doub-
ing your preſent alliſance therein.

Luc. La, la, la, la: Nothing doubting ſayes he ? Alas
good Lord, a Noble Gentleman'cis, if he would not keeſ
ſo good a houſe. Many a time and often I hardin'd with
him, and told him on't, and come again to ſupper to him
on purpose, to have him ſpend leſs, and yet he would em-
brace no counſel, take no warning by my coming, every
man has his fault, and honesſy is his. I haſt told him on't,
but I could nere get him from't.

### Enter Servant, with Wine.

Ser. Please your Lordſhip, here is the Wine.

Luc. Flaminius, I have noted thee alwaies wife.

Heres to thee.

Flam. Your Lordſhip ſpeakes your pleasure.

Luci. I have obſerved thee alwaies for a towardly
prompt ſpirit, give thee thy due, and one that knowes
what belongs to reaſon; and canſt uſe the time well, if the
time uſe thee well. Good parts in thee; get you gone fir-
rab. Draw neerer honesſ Flaminius. Thy Lord's a bounti-
ful Gentleman, but thou art wife, and thou knoweſt well
enough (although thou com't to me) that this is no
time to lend money, eſpecially upon bare ſttriendship
without fecuity. Heres three Solidares for thee, good
Boy wink at me, and ſay thou ſaw't me not. Fare thee
well.

Flam. Is't poffible the world should be much differ

And we alive that liv'd? Fly damned bafeſnes

To him that worſhips thee.

Luc. Ha? Now I fee thou art a ſool, and fit for thy
Maſter.

### Exit Lucullus.

Fla. May theſe add to the number that may ſcald thee:
Let multi Coyn be thy damnation,

Thou diſeate of a Friend, and not himself:

Has ſttriend ſuch a faint and milky heart,

It turnes in leſs then two nighrs? O you gods. I
I feel my Maſters paffion. This Slave unto his honour,

Has my Lords meat in him :

VWhy should it thrive, and come to Nutriment,

VWhen he is turn'd to poyſon ?

O may diſeates only work upon't:

And when he's ſick to death, let not that part of Nature

Which my Lord paid for, be of any power,

To expel ſickneſs, but prolong his hour.

Exit.

### Enter Lucius, with three ſtrangers.

Luc. Who the Lord Timon? He is my very good friend,
and an honourable Gentleman.

I. We know him for no leſs, though we are but tran-
gers to him. But I can tell you one thing my Lord, and
which I hear from common rumours, now Lord Timons
happy hours are done and paff, and his eſtate ſhrinkes
from him.

Luc. Fye no, do not believe it: he cannot want for
money.

2. But believe you this, my Lord, that not long ago,
one of his men was with the Lord Lucullus, to borrow for
many Talents, nay urg'd extreamly for't, and thewad

what

Timon of Athens.

675

what necessity belong'd to't, and yet was deny'd.

Luc. Hon ?

2. I tell you, deny'd my Lord.

Luc. What a strange cafe was that ? Now before the
gods I am afham'd on't. Deny'd that honourable man ?
There was very little honour they sew'd in that. For my own
part, I muft needs confefle, I have received some small
kindneſſes from him, as Money, Plaine, Jewels, and ſuch
like Trifles; nothing comparing to his : yet had he mi-
ſook him, and ſent to me, I should nere have deny'd
his occafion to many Talents.

Enter Servilius.

Servil. See, by good hap wonders my Lord, I have
fawt to ſee his honour. My honour'd Lord.

Luc. Servilius ? You are kindly met fir. Farthewell,
commend me to thy honourable vertuous Lord, my ve-
ry exquifite friend.

Servil. May it please your Honor, my Lord hath ſent

Luci. Ha? what has he ſent ? I am ſo much endeared
to that Lord; he's ever ſending: how ſhall I thank him
think't thou ? And what has he ſent now ?

Serv. Has only ſent his preſent occafion now my
Lord: requeſting your Lordship to ſupply his instant ſe
for ſo many Talents.

Luci. I know his Lordship is but merry with me,
He cannot want fifty five hundred Talents.

Servil. But in the mean time he wants leſſe my Lord.
If his occafion were not vertuous,
I should not urge it halſe ſo faithfully.

Luc. Dott thou ſpeak ſeriously Servilius.

Ser. Upon my foul 'tis true Sir.

Luc. What a wicked Beaſt was I to disſunſh my
ſelf againſt ſuch a good time, when I might ha' ſhewn
my ſelf honourable ? how unluckily it hapned, that I
should purchase the day before for a little part, and undoe
a great deal of honour ? *Servilius*, now before the gods I
am not able to do (the more beſt I ſay) I was ſending
to uſe Lord *Timon* my ſelf, these gentlemen can wittneſſe;
but I would not for the wealth of Athens I had don't now.
Commend me bountiſely to his good Lordship, and I
hope his honour will conceive the faireſt of me, because
I have no power to be kind. And tell him this from me,
I count it one of my greatest afflietions ſay, that I cannot
pleaſure ſuch an honourable Gentleman. *Good Servilius*.
will you beſtomer me ſo far, as to uſe mine own words
to him?

Ser. Yes fir, I ſhall.

Exit Servilius.

Luci. He ſeek you out a good turn Servilius.
True as you ſaid, *Timon* is trunk indeed,
And he that's once deny'd will hardly ſpeed... Exit.

1. Do you obſerve this *Hortilius* ?
2. I, too well.
1. Why this is the worlds foul,

And juſt of the fame peecce

Is every Flatterer's ſport: who can call him his friend.
That dips in the fame diſh ? For in my knowing,
*Timon* has been this Lords Father,

And kept his credit with his purſe:
Supported his eſtate, nay *Timons* money

Has paid his men their wages. He nere drinks,
But *Timons* Silver treads upon his Lip,

And yet, oh ſee the monſtrouſneſſe of man,
When he looks out in an ungrateful ſhape :

He does deny him (in respect of his

What charitable men afford to Beggers.

3. Religion groans at it.

1. For mine own part, I never taſted Timon in my life,
Nor came any of his bounties over me,
To mark me for his friend. Yet I protest,
For his right Noble mind, illuttrious vertue,
And honourable Carriage,
Had his necessity made use of me,
I would have put my wealth into Donation,
And the beſt half should have returned to him,
So much I love his heart: But I perceive,
Men muſt learn now with pitty to diſpence.
For policy fits above Conſience.

Exeunt.

Enter a third ſervant with Sempronius, another
of Timons Friends.

Semp. Muſt he needs trouble me in't ? Hum.

Bove all others ?

He might have tried Lord *Lucius*, or *Lucullus*,
And now *Ventidius* is wealthy too,

Whom he redeem'd from prifon. All theſe
Owe their Eſtates unto him.

Ser. My Lord,

They have all been touch'd, and all are found bafe-Mettle,
For they have all denied him.

Semp. How ? have they deni'd him ?
Has *Ventidius* and *Lucullus* deny'd him,

And does he ſend to me ? Three ? Hum ?

It thews but little love or judgement in him.

Muſt I be laſt Refuge ? his Friend : (like Phyſitians)

That th'iv'd, give him over. Muſt I take th'Cure upon me?

Has much diſgrac'd me in't, I'me angry athim,

That might have known my place, I fee no ſenſe ſot.

But his occafions might have wooed me firſt :

For in my conſience I was the firſt man

That ere received gift from him.

An does he think ſo backwardly of me now,

That ile require it laſt ? No :

So it may prove an argument of lauſhrer

To th'reft, and 'mong't Lords I be thought a fool :

Ide rather then the worth of thrice the ſumme,

Had ſent to me firſt, but for my minds ſake :

Ide ſuch a courage to do him good. But now return,

And with their faint reply, this anſwer joyne :

Who bates mine Honour, shall not know my Coyn. Exit.

Ser. Excellent: Your Lordships a goodly Villain, the
divel knew not what he did, when he made man Poli-
tick; he croſſed himſelf by't : and I cannot think, but
in the end, the villanies of man will ſet him clear. How
fairly this Lord trives to appear ſoul? Takes vertuous
Copies to be wick'd : like that ſofe, that under hot ardent
zeales, would ſet whole Realms on fire, of ſuch a nature is
his politick love.

This was my Lords beſt hope, now all are ſled,
Save only the Gods. Now his friends are dead,
Doors that were nere acquainted with their Wards

Many a bounteous year muſt be imploy'd

Now to guard ſure their Maſter :

And this is all a liberal courſe allows,

Who cannot keep his wealth, muſt keep his houſe.

Exit.

Enter Varro's man, meeting others. All Timons Creditors to wait for his coming out. Then enter *Lucius* and *Hortenius*.

Var. man. Well met, good morrow *Titus* and *Hortenius*.
Titus

676

Timon of Athens.

Tit. The like to you kind Varro.

Hort. Lucius, what do we meet together ?

Luc. I, and I think one businesse does command us all.

For mine is money.

Tit. So is theirs, and ours.

Enter Philotus.

Luci. And fir Philotus too.

Phi. Good day at once.

Luci. Welcome good Brother.

What do you think the hour ?

Phil. Libouring for Nine.

Luci. So much ?

Phil. Is not my Lord seen yet ?

Luci. Not yet.

Phil. I wonder on't, he was wont to fline at seven.

Luci. I, but the dates are waxt shorter with him :

You must confider, that a prodigal course

Is like the Sunnes, but not like his recoverable, I fear :

Tis deepest Winter in Lord Timons purfe, that is : One
may reach deep enough, and yet find little,

Phil. I am of your fear for that.

Tit. Ile flew you how t' obferve a strange event :

Your Lord fends now for Money ?

Hort. Moft true, he does.

Tit. And he wears Jewels now of Timons gift,

For which I wait for money.

Hort. It is againſt my heart.

Luci. Mark how strange it ſhows,

Timon in this, ſhould pay mo: then he owes :

And e'ne as if your Lord ſhould wear rich Jewels,

And ſend for money for *em.

Hort. I'ne weary of this Charge,

The gods can witneſſe :

I know my Lord hath ſpent of Timons wealth,

And now ingratitude, makes it worſe then flealth.

Varro. Yes mine's three thouſand Crowns :

What's yours?

Luci. Five thouſand mine.

Var. Tis much deep, and it ſhould ſeem by th' ſum

Your Maſters confidence was above mine,

Elſe ſurely he had equall'd.

Enter Flaminius.

Tit. One of Lord Timons men.

Luc. Flaminius? Sic, a word: pray is my Lord ready to come forth ?

Flam. No, indeed he is not.

Tit. We attend his Lordship : pray ſignifie ſo much.

Flam. I need not tell him that, he knows you are too diligent.

Enter Steward in a Cloak, muffled.

Luci. Ha, is not that his Steward mufſed ſo ?

He goes away in a Cloud : Call him, call him.

Tit. Do you hear, fir ?

2. Varro. By your leave, fir.

Stew. What do ye aske of me, my friend.

Tit. We wait for certain Money here, fir.

Stew. I, if money were as certain as your waiting,

Twere ſure enough.

Why then preferr'd you not your ſummes and Bills

When your falſe Maſters eat of my Lords meat?

Then they would ſmile, and fawn upon his debts,

And take down th'intreft into their glutt' nous Mawes.

You do your ſelves but wrong, to ſtirre me up,

Let me pafle quietly :

Beleev't, my Lord and I have made an end,

I have no more to reckon, he to ſpend.

Luci. I, but this anſwer will not ſerve.

Stew. Ift twill not ſerve, 'tis not ſo base as you,
for you ſerve knaves.

1. Varro. How ? what does his caſhier worſhip muter?

2. Varro. No matter what, he's poor, and that's reſ-
venge enough. Who can ſpeak broader, then he that his
no houſe to put his head in ? Such may raile againſt great
buildings.

Enter Servilius.

Tit. Oh here's Servilius, now we ſhall know ſome anſwer.

Serv. If I might beſeech you Gentlemen, to repair
fome other hour, I ſhould derive much from't. For tak't
of my ſoul, my Lord leans wondrouſly to discontent : his
comfortable temper has forſooke him, he's much out
of health, and keeps his Chamber.

Luci. Many do keep their Chambers, are not ſick :

And if it be ſo farre beyond his health,

Me thinks he ſhould the ſooner pay his debts,

And make a clear way to the gods.

Servil. Good gods.

Tit. We cannot take this for anſwer, fir.

Flaminius within. Servilius help, my Lord, my Lord.

Enter Timon in a rage.

Tim. What, are my doores oppoſ'd againſt my pafſage?

Have I bin ever free, and muſt my houſe

Be my retentive enemy ? My Goil?

The place which I have Feaſted, does it now

(Like all Mankind) ſhow me an I'on heart ?

Luci. Put in now Titus.

Tit. My Lord, here is my Bill.

Luci. Heres mine.

1. Varro. And mine, my Lord.

2. Var. And ours, my Lord.

Philo. All our Bills.

Tim. Knock me down with em, cleave me to the Girdle.

Luc. Alas my Lord.

Tim. Cut out my heart in ſummes:

Tit. Mine, fifty Talents.

Tim. Tell out my blood.

Luc. Five thouſand Crowns, my Lord.

Tim. Five thouſand drops paies that,

What yours ? and yours?

1. Var. My Lord.

2. Var. My Lord.

Tim. Tear me, take me, and the gods fall upon you.

Exit Timon.

Hort. Faith I perceive our Maſters may throw their caps at their money, theſe debts may well be call'd delpeſate ones, for a madman owes em.

Exeunt.

Tim. They have e'ne put my breath from me the ſlaves.
Creditors ? Divels.

Stew. My deere Lord.

Tim. What if it should be ſo ?

Stew. My Lord.

Tim. Ile have it ſo. My Steward?

Stew. Here my Lord.

Tim. So ſicly ? Goe, bid all my friends again,
Lucius, Lucullus, and Sempronius: All,

Ile once more ſeaf the Rafaſcals.

Stew. O my Lord, you only ſpeak from your diftract-
ed ſoul; there's not ſo much left to furnish out a mode-
rate Table.

Timon.

Timon of Athens.

### Enter divers' Friends at several doores.

1 The good time of day to you, fir.

2 I also wish it to you: I think this honourable Lord did but try us this other day.

1. Upon that were my thoughts tyring when we encountered. I hope it is not so low with him as he made it seem in the tryal of his several Friends.

2 It should not be, by the perfusion of his new Feafting.

1 I should think so: He hath sent me an earnest inviting, which many my near occasions did urge me to put off: but he hath conjured me beyond them, and I must needs appear.

2 In like manner was I in debt to my important fines, but he would not hear my excuse. I am forry, when he sent to borrow of me, that my Provision was out.

1 I am sick of that grief too, as I understand how all things go.

2 Every man heare so: what would you have borrowed of you?

1 A thousand Pieces.

2 A thousand Pieces?

1 What of you?

2 He sent to me fir—Here he comes.

### Enter Timon and Attendants.

Tim. With all my heart Gentlemen both; and how fare you?

1 Ever at the beſt, hearing well of your Lordship.

2 The Swallow followes not Summer more willing, Then we your Lordship.

Tim. Nor more willingly leaves winter, ſuch Summer Birds are men. Gentlemen, our dinner will not reprieve this long ſtay: Feaſt your eares with the Mufick a while: if they will fare ſo hariously o’th Trumpets found: we ſhall too’t presently.

1 I hope it remains not unkindly with your Lordship, that I return’d you an empty Meflenger.

Tim. O fir, let it not trouble you.

2. My Noble Lord.

Tim. Ah my good friend, what cheer?

### The Banquet brought in.

2 My moſt honourable Lord, I am e’ne ſick of ſhame, that when your Lordship the other day ſent to me, I was ſo unfortunate a Beggar.

Tim. Think not on’t, fir.

2 If you had ſent but two hours before.

Tim. Let it not cumber your better remembrance. Come bring in all together.

2 All cover’d Difhes.

1 Royal Chear, I warrant you.

3 Doubt not that, if money and the feafon can yield it.

1 How do you? What’s the neues ?

3 Alcibiades is banifh’d: hear you of it ?

Both. Alcibiades banifh’d?

3 ’Tis ſo, be ſure of it.

1. How? How?

2. I pray you upon what ?

Tim. My worthy Friends, will you draw near ?

3 Ile tell you more anon. Here’s a Noble feaſt toward.

4 This is the old man ſtill.

3 Wilt hold? Wilt hold?

2 It does, but time will, and so.

3. I do conceive.

Tim. Each man to his flood, with that spur as he would to the lip of his Miftris: your diet shall be in all places a-like. Make not a City Feaſt of it, to let the meat cool, ere we can agree upon the first place. Sir, fir.

The gods require our Thankes.

You great Benefactors, ſprinkle our Society with Thankfulneſs. For your own giſts, make your ſelves prais’d: But reserve ſkill to give, left your Deities be deſpised. Lend to each man enough, that one need not lend to another. For were your gods heads to borrow of men, men would forſake the gods. Make the meat be beloved, more then the man that giſes it. Let no Assembly of Twenty, be without a ſcore of Villaines. If there ſit twelve Women at the Table, let a dozen of them be as they are. The reſt of your Fees, O gods, the Senators of Athens, together with the common legge of People, what is amſs in them, you God’s, make ſuſeable for deſtruction. For these my preſent friends, as they are to me nothing, ſo in nothing bleſs them, and to nothing are they welcome.

Uncover Dogs, and lap.

Some ſpeak. What does his Lordſhip mean?

Some other. I know not.

Tim. May you a better Feaſt never behold You knot of Mouth-friends: Smoak, and luke-warm water Is your perſection. This is Timons laſt, Who fluck and ſpangled you with flatteries, Waſhes it off, and sprinkles in your faces Your reeking villany. Live loath’d, and long Moſt ſmiling, ſmooth, detefted Parafites, Cutreous deſtroyers, affable wolves, meek Beares: You fooles of Fortune, Trencher-friends, Time flies, Cap and knee Slaves, Vapours, and Minute Jackes Of Man and Beaſt, the infinite Malady Cruft you quite o’re. VVhat doſt thou go ? Soft, take thy Phyſick ſfirst; thou too, and thou; Stay I will lend thee money, borrow none. VVhat ? All in motion ? Henceforth be no Feaſt, VVhereat a Villain’s not a welcome Gueſt. Burn houſe, ſink Athens, henceforth hated be Of Timon, Man, and all humanity.

Exit.

### Enter the Senators, with other Lords.

1 How now, my Lords?

2. Know you the quality of Lord Timons ſury?

3. Pufh, did you fee my Cap.

4. I have loft my Gown.

1 He’s but a mad Lord, and nought but humour ſwales him. He gave me a Jewel th’other day, and now he has beat it out of my hat.

Did you fee my Jewel?

2 Did you fee my Cap ?

3 Here ’tis.

4 Here lies my Gown.

1. Lets make no ſay.

2. Lord Timon’s mad.

3. I feel upon my bones.

4. One day he gives us Diamonds, next day ſtones.

Exeunt the Senators.

### Enter Timon.

Tim. Let me look back upon thee. O thou VVall That girdles in those VVolves, dive in the earth, And fence not Athens. Matrons, turn incontinent. Obedience fail in Children: Slaves and Fooles

Pfluck

680

Timon of Athens.

This yellow Slave,
Will knit and break Religions, bleſſe th'accurſt,
Make the hoar Leproſe ador'd, place Theeves,
And give them title, knee, and approbation
With Senators on the Bench ? This is it
That makes the wapen'd Widdow wed again ;
She, whom the Spittle-houſe, and ulcerous foreſes,
Would caſt the gorge at. This Embalmes and Spices
To th' April day again. Come damn'd earth,
Thou common whore of Mankind, that puts oddes
Among the rout of Nations, I will make thee
Do thy right Nature.
March afarre off.
Ha? a Drumm ? Th'art quick,
But yet ile bury thee : Thou't go (ſtrong Thief)
When Gouty keepers of thee cannot ſtand :
Nay ſtay thou out for earned.

Enter Alcibiades with Drum and Fife in warlike manner and Phrynia, and Timandra.

Alci. What art thou there ? ſpeak.
Tim. A beaſſ as thou art. The Canker gnaw thy heart
For ſhewing me again the eies of man.
Alci. What is thy name? is man ſo hateſtul to thee,
That art thy ſelf a man ?
Tim. I am Milan thropos, and hate Mankind.
For thy part, I do with thou wert a dog,
That I might love thee ſomething.

Alci. I know thee well :
But in thy fortunes am unlearn'd, and ſtrange.
Tim. I know thee too, and more then that I know thee
I not defire to know, Follow thy Drumme,
With mans blood paint the ground Gules, Gules :
Religious Cannons, civil Laws are cruel,
Then what ſhould warre be ? This ſelt whore of thine,
Hath in her more deſtruction then thy Sword,
For all her Cherubin look.
Phriu. Thy lips rot off.
Tim. I will not kiffle thee, then the rot returns
To thine own lips again.

Alci. How came the Noble Timon to this change ?
Tim. As the Moon do's, by wanting light to give :
But then renew I could not, like the Moon,
There were no Sunnes to borrow of.
Alci. Noble Timon, what friendſhip may I do thee ?
Tim. None, but to maintain my opinion.
Alci. What is it Timon ?
Tim. Prouſe me friendſhip, but perform none.
If thou wilt not prouſe, the Gods plague thee, for thou
art a man : if thou doſt perform, contound thee, for thou
art a man.

Alci. I have heard in ſome ſort of thy Miferies.
Tim. Thou fawſt them when I had p[ro]ſperity.
Alci. I ſee them now, then was a bleſſed time.
Tim. As thine is now, held with a brace of Harlots.
Timan. Is this th' Athenian Minion, whom the world,
Voy'd to regardfully ?

Tim. Art thou Timandra ? Timan. Yes.
Tim. Be a whole ſill, they love thee not that uſeth thee,
give them diſeates, leaving with thee their Luft. Make
uſe of thy ſalt hours, feafon the ſlaves for Tubbes and
Bathes, bring down Rofe-checkt youth to the Fubfaſt,
and the Dier.

Timan. Hang thee Monſter.
Alci. Pardon him ſweet Timandra, for his wits.
Are drownd'd and loft in his Calamities.

I have but little Gold of late, brave Timon,
The want whereof, doth daily make revolt
In my penurious Band. I have heard and grieſ'd
How curſed Athens, mindleſſe of thy worth,
Forgetting thy great deeds, when neighbour flates
But for thy Sword and Fortune trode upon them.
Tim. I prethee heat thy Drum, and get thee gone.
Alci. I am thy friend, and pity thee dear Timon.
Tim. How doſt thou pitty him, whom thou doſt trou-
I had rather be alone.

Alci. Why fare thee well :
Here is ſome Gold for thee.
Tim. Keep it, I cannot eat it.
Alci. When I have laid proud Athens on a heap.
Tim. Wari't thou gainſt Athens ?
Alci. I Timon, and have cauſe.
Tim. The gods confound them all in thy Conqueſt,
And thee after, when thou haſt conqueſt'd.

Alci. Why me, Timon ?
Tim. That by killing of Villains
Thou was't born to conquer my Countrie.
Put up thy Gold. Go on, here's Gold, go on ;
Be as a Planetary plague, whom Jove
Will ore ſome high-vic'd City hang his poſſon
In the ſick air : let not thy ſword skip one.
Pitty is not honour'd Age for his white Beard,
He is an Ulſurer. Strike me the counterfeit Matron,
It is her habit only, that is hoffeſt,
Her ſelf's a Bawd. Let not the Virgins, cheek
Make ſoft thy trenchant ſword : for that of Milk-papps
That through the window Barn bore at mens eies,
Are not within the Leaf of pitcy writ,
But fet them down horrible Traitors. Spare not the Babe
Whofe dimpled ſmiles from fools exhauſt their mercy;
Think it a Baſtard, whom the Oracle
Hath doubtfully pronounced, the throat ſhall cut,
And mince it ſans remorſe. Swear against ſ Objects,
Put Armour on thine ears, and on thine eies,
Whofe proof, nor yels of Mothers, Maids, nor Babes
Nor fight of Prieſts in holy veſtments bleeding,
Shall pierce a jot. There's Gold to pay thy Souldiers.
Make large conſuſion: and thy ſury ſpent,
Conſounded be thy ſelf. Speak not, be gone.

Alci. Haſt thou gold yer, ile take the gold thou giveſt me, not all thy Counſell.
Tim. Doſt thou, or doſt thou not, Heavens curſe upon thee.

Both. Give us ſome Gold good Timon, haſt thou more ?
Tim. Enough to make a Wore forſwear her Trade,
And to make Whores, a Bawd. Hold up you Sluts
Your aprons, mountant, you are not Oſtable,
Although I know you'l ſwear, terribly ſwear
Into ſtrong ſhudders, and to heavenly Aſges
Th'immortal gods that hear you. Spare your Oaths:
Ile rulſt to your conditions, be whores ſill.

And he whole pious breath feeks to convert you,
Be ſtrong in whores, allure him, burn him up,
Let your cloſe fire predominate his ſmok,
And be no turn-coats : yet may your pains ſix months
Be quite contrary. And Thatch
Your poor thin Roofs, with burthens of the dead,
(Some that were hang'd) no matter :
VVear them, betray with them, Whore ſill.

Paint till a horſe may mire upon your face :
A pox of wrinkles.

Both. Well, more Gold, what then ?

Beleev't.

Timon of Athens.

If thou wilt carle: thy Father (that poor ragge)

Muff be thy subjeet; who in spight put fluffe
To fome the-Begger, and compounded thee
Poor Rogue, hereditary. Hence be gone,
If thou hadst not been born the work of men,
Thou hadst been a knave and flatterer.

Ape. Art thou proud yet ?

Tim. I, that I am not thee.

Ape. I, that I was no Prodigall.

Tim. I, that I am one now.

VVere all the wealth I have flut up in thee,

I'd give thee leave to hang it. Get thee gone :

That the whole life of Athens were in this,
Thus would I eat it.

Ape. Here, I will mend thy feast.

Tim. First mend thy company, take away thy self.

Ape. So I shall mend mine own, by th' lack of thine.

Tim. 'Tis not well mended so, it is but botcht ;

If not, I would it were.

Ape. What wouldst thou have to Athens ?

Tim. Thee chither in a whirlewind: if thou wilt,

Tell them there I have Gold, look, so I have.

Ape. Here is no ufe for Gold.

Tim. Thee beft, and trueft :

For here it sleepes, and do's no hyred harm.

Ape. Where ly'ft a nights Timon?

Tim. Under that's above me.

Where feed't thou a daies Apemantus?

Ape. Where my flomack finds mear, or rather where
I eat it.

Tim. Would poison were obedient, and knew my mind.

Ape. Where wouldst thou fend it ?

Tim. To fawce thy diſhes.

Ape. The middle of humanity thou never kneweſt, but
the extremity of both ends. When thou waſt in thy Gilt,
and thy Perſume, they mockt thee, for too much curiſity:
in thy Rags thou knoweſt none, but are delpis'd for the
contrary. There's a Medler for thee, eat it.

Tim. On what I hate, I feed not.

Ape. Doff hate a Medler ?

Tim. I, though it look like thee.

Ape. And th' hadst hated Medlers sooner, thou shouldst
have loved thy ſelf better now. What man did't thou
ever know undchrift, that was beloved after his means ?

Tim. Who without thofe means thou talk't of, didst
thou ever know beloved ?

Ape. My self.

Tim. I underſand thee, thou hadst ſome means to
keep a Dog.

Ape. What things in the world canſt thou neereſt com-
pare to thy flatterers ?

Tim. Won en neereſt, but men : men are the things
themselves. What wouldst thou do with the world Ap-
emantus, if it lay in thy power ?

Ape. Give it the Beaſts, to be rid of the men.

Tim. Wouldst thou have thy ſelf fall in the conſuſion
of men, and remain a Beaſt with the Beaſts.

Ape. I Timon.

Tim. A beaſtly ambition, which the Gods grant
thee that attain to. If thou wert the Lyon, the Fox would
beguile thee: if thou wert the Lamb, the Fox would
eat thee: if thou wert the Fox, the Lyon would ſuſpect
thee, when peradventure thou wert accuſ'd by the Aſſe :
If thou wert the Aſſe, thy dulneſſe would torment thee:
and fill thou liv'dt but as a Breakſaft to the Wolfe. If
thou wert the Wolfe, thy greedineſſe would afflict thee,

and oft thou shouldſt hazard thy life for thy dinner. Wert
thou the Unicorn, pride and wrath would confound
thoe, and make thine own ſelf the conqueſt of thy fury.
Wert thou a Bear, thou wouldſt be kill'd by the Horſe:
wert thou a Bear, thou would't be ſeiz'd by the Leo-
pard: wert thou a Leopard, thou wert German to the
Lion, and the spots of thy kindred, were Jurors on thy life.
All thy ſafety were remotion, and thy defence abſence.
What Beaſt couldſt thou be, that were not subjeet to a
Beaſt: and what a Ieaſt art thou already, that ſee't not
thy loſſe in transformation.

Ape. If thou couldſt please me
With ſpeaking to me thou might't
Have hit upon it here.

The Common-wealth of Athens is become
A Forreſt of Beaſts.

Tim. How has the Aſſe broke the wall, that thou art
out of the City.

Ape. Yonder comes a Poet and a Painter :

The Plague of Company light upon thee :

I will fear to catch it, and give way.

When I know not what eſſe to do,

Ile fee thee again.

Tim. When there is nothing living but thee,
Thou halt be welcome.

I had rather be a Beggars Dog

Then Apemantus.

Ape. Thou art the Cap
Of all the Fools alive.

Tim. VVould thou wert clean enough
To ſpit upon.

Ape. A plague on thee,
Thou art too bad to curſe.

Tim. All Villains

That do stand by thee, are pure.

Ape. There is no Leproſe,
But what thou speak't.

Tim. If I name thee, ile beat thee;
But I should infect my hands.

Ape. I would my tongue
Could rot them off.

Tim. Away thou ſuſſe of a mangy dog.

Choller does kill me,

That thou art alive, I ſ wound to fee thee.

Ape. VVould thou would't burſt.

Tim. Away thou tedious Rogue, I am forry I ſhall loſe
a ſtone by thee.

Ape. Beaſt.

Tim. Slave.

Ape. Toad.

Tim. Rogue, Rogue, Rogue.

I am fick of this false world, and will love nought

But even the meer neceſſities upon't:

Then Timon preſently prepare thy grave :

Lye where the light Foam of the Sea may beat

Thy grave-tone daily, make thine Epitaph,

That death in me, at others lives may laugh.

O thou fweet King-killer, and dear divorce

Twixt natural Sunne and fire: thou bright deſiler

Of Himens pureſt bed, thou valiant Mars

Thou ever, young, ſrefh, loved, and delicate wooer,

VVhove bluſh doth thave the conſecrated Snow

That lies on Dians lap.

Thou vifible God,

That fouſdreſt cloſe Impoffibilities.

And mak't them kiffe; that ſpeak't with every Tongue

To

Timon of Athens.

683

To every purpose ; O thou touch of hearts,
Think thy slave-man rebels, and by thy vertue
Set them into confounding oddes, that Beasts
May have the world in Empire.

Ape. V Would *twere so,

But not till I am dead. Ile say th'haft Gold :
Thou wilt be throng'd too shortly.

Tim. Throng'd too ?

Ape. I.

Tim. Thy back I prythee.

Ape. Live, and love thy mifery.

Tim. Long live so, and so die. I am quit.

Ape. Mo things like men ;

Eat Timon, and abhor then.

Exit Apeman.

Enter the Bandettii.

1. VWhere should he have this Gold ? It is some poor
Fragment, some flender Ort of his rem'inder: the meer
want of Gold, and the falling from of his Friends, drove
him into this Melancholly.

2 It is nois'd

He hath a Maſs of Treasure.

3. Let us make the affay upon him, if he care not for't,
he will supply us easily: if he covetously referve it, how
shall's get it?

2 True : for he bears it not about him :

'Tis hid.

1 Is not this he ?

All. VWhere ?

2 'Tis his description.

3 He ? I know him.

All. Save thee Timon.

Tim. Now Thieves.

All. Soldiers, not Thieves.

Tim. Both too, and womens Sons.

All. VVe are not thieves, but men

That much do want.

Tim. Your greairet want is, you want much of meat :
VWhy should you want? Behold, the Earth hath Roots :
Within this Mile break forth an hundred Springs :
The Oakes bear Maſt, the Briers Scarlet Hips,
The bounteous Hufwife Nature, on each buſh,
Lays her full Maſs before you. VVant ? why want ?

1 VVe cannot live on Graſs, on Beries, VVater,
As Beaſts, and Birds, and Fithes.

Ti. Nor on the Beasts themſelves, the Birds and Fithes,
You muſt eat men. Yet thanks I muſt you con,
That you are thieves: proſeſt : that you work not

In holier ſhapes : for there is boundleſs theft
In limited proſeffions. Raſcal thieves

Here's Gold. Go, fuck the subtle cloud o' th' Grape,
Till the high Feaver teeth your Bloud to Froth,
And ſcape hanging. Trust not the Phyſitian,
His Antidores are poyſon, and he flayes

Moe then you Rob : Take wealth, and live together,
Do Villain do, ſince you proſeſt to do't.

Like workmen, He example you with Thee very :
The Sun's a thief, and with his great attraction

Robs the vaſt Sea. The Moon's an arrant thief,
And her pale fire, the ſnatches from the Sun.

The Sea's a thieſt, whoſe liquid Surge, reſoſes

The Moon into Salt teares. The Earth's a thieſt,
That feeds and breeds by a compoſure floum

From gan'ral excrement : Each thing's a thieſt.
The Lawes, your curb and whip, in their rough power

Ha's uncheck'd theft. Love not your ſelves, away,
Rob one another, there's more Gold, cut throates ;
All that you meet are thieves: to Athens go.

Break open shops, nothing can you ſteal.
But thieves do loſe it: ſteal leſs, for this I give you
And Gold confound you howſoere: Amen.

3. H'as almost charm'd me from my Proſeſſion, by perſwading me to it.

1 'Tis in the malice of mankind, that he thus advices us
not to have us thrive in our myſtery.

2 He believe him as an Enemy,
And give over my Trade.

1 Let us firſt fee peace in Athens, there is no time to miſerable but a man may be true.

Excum Thieves.

Enter the Steward to Timon.

Stew. Oh you Gods !

Is yon'd deſpis'd and ruinous man my Lord ?

Full of decay and failing ? Oh Monument
And wonder of good deeds, evilly beſtow'd !

What an alteration of honour has deſp'rate want made ?

What vilder thing upon the earth, then Friends,

Who can bring Nobleft minds, to bafeſt ends,

How rarely does it meet with this times guile,

When man was wifht to love his Enemies :

Grant I may ever love, and rather woo

Thofe that would miſchieſe me, then thofe that do

Has caught me in his eye, I will preſent my honeſt grief

Unto him; and as my Lord, ſtill ſerve him with my life.

My deareſt Maſter.

Tim. Away : what art thou ?

Stew. Have you ſorg't me, Sir ?

Tim. Why doſt ask that ? I have ſorg't all men.

Then if thou grum't th'art a man,

I have ſorg't thee.

Stew. An honeſt poor Servant of yours.

Tim. Then I know thee not :

I nev' had honeſt man about me, I all,

I kept were Knaſes, to ſerve in meat to Villaines.

Stew. The Gods are witneſs,

Never did poor Stew'rd wear a truer grief

For his undone Lord, then mine eyes for you.

Tim. What doſt thou weep ?

Come nearer, then I love thee

Because thou art a woman, and difclaim'ſt

Flinty mankind: whoſe eyes do never give,

But through Luft and Laughter : pitie's sleeping :

Strange times that weep with laughing, not with weeping.

Stew. I beg of you to know me, good my Lord,
I'accept my grief, and whilſt this poor wealth laſts,

To entertain me as your Steward ſill.

Tim. Had I a Steward

So true, so juſt, and now so comfortable ?

It almost turnes my dangerous Nature wild.

Let me behold thy face: Surely, this man
Was born of woman.

Forgive my general, and exceptleſs rafhneſs

You perpetual ſober Gods. I do proclaim

One honeſt man : Miftake me not, but one :

No more I pray, and he's a Steward.

How ſain would I have hated all mankind,
And thou redeem'ſt thy ſelf : But all ſave thee,
I fell with Curſes.

Me thinkes thou art more honeſt now then wife :

For, by oppreſsion and betraying me,

Mmm 2

Thou

684

Timon of Athens.

Thou might it have sooner got another Service :
For many so arrive at second Masters,
Upon their first Lords neck. But tell me true,
(For I must ever doubt, though ne're so sure)
Is not thy kindneſs subtle, coverous,
If not aulfuring kindneſs, and as rich men deal Gifts,
Expecting in return twenty for one?

Stew. No my moſt worthy Maſter, in whose breſt
Doubt, and ſuſpect (alſo) is plac'd too late :
You should have fear'd false times, when you did Feaſt,
Sſuſpect still comes, where an eſtate is left.
That which I ſhow, Heaven knowes, is meerly Love,
Duty, and Zea to your unmatched mind,
Care of your Food and Living, and believe it,
My moſt honour'd Lord,
For any benefit that points to me,
Either in hope, or preſent, to exchange
For this one wish, that you had power and wealth
To require me, by making rich your ſelf.

Tim. Look thee this for a thoufingly honest man,
Here take : the God's out of my miſery,
Hast sent thee the ſure. Go, live rich and happy.
But thus condition'd: Thou canst build from men:
Hate all, curſe all, the w Chariot, the one,
But let the famiſt ſlesh slide from the bone,
Ere thou relieve the Beggar. Give to dogs
What thou denyeth to men. Let Prisons ſwallow'em,
Debts wither'em to nothing, be men like bашt woods
And may Difeaſes lick up their faſſe blouſ,
And ſo farewell, and thrive.

Stew. O let me ſay and comfort you my Maſter:
Tim. If thou haſt Curſes
Stay not : ſee, will it thou art bleſt and free :
Ne're see thou man, and let me ne're see thee.

Exit.

Enter Poet and Painter.

Pain. A: I took note of the place, it cannot be far
Where he abi les.

Poet. What's to be diu'th of him ?
Does the Rumour hold for true,
That he's ſo full of Gold ?

Pain. Certain.
Albiades reports it: Phronia and Tinsandra
Had Gold of him, he likewiſe enrich'd
Poor flying Soldiers, with great exquarity.
His ſaid, he gave unto his Steward

A mighty Sum.
Poet. Then this breaking of his,
Has been but a try for his Friends.
Pain. Nothing else:
You shall see him a Palm in Athens again,
And flourith with the higheſt:
Therefore, 'tis not amif', we render our loves
To him, in this ſupped diſtrefes of his :

It will ſhow honeſtly in us,
And is very likely to lold our purpofes
With what they travail for,
If it be a juſt and true report, that goes
Of his having.

Poet. What have you now
To prefent unto him ?
Painter. Nothing at this time
But my Vifitation: only I will promife him
An excellent Piece.
Poet. I muſt ſerve him ſo too :
Tell him of an intent that's coming toward him.

Painter. Good as the beſt
Promifing, is the very Ayr o'th' Time :
It opens the eyes of Expectation.
Performance, is ever the duller for his act,
And but in the plainer and ſimpler kind of people,
The deed of Saying is quite out of uſe.
To promife, is moſt Courſtly and fashionable :
Performance, is a kind of Will or Teſtament
Which argues a great fickneſs in his judgment
That makes it.

Enter Timon from his Cave.

Timon. Excellent Workman.
Thou canſt not paint a man ſo bad
As is thy ſelf.

Poet. I am thinking
What I shall ſay I have provided for him :
It muſt be a perſonating of himſelf:
A ſatyre against the ſofneſs of Prosperity,
With a Diſcovery of the infinite Blatteries
That follow youth and opulency.

Timon. Muſt thou needs
Stand for a Villain in thine own Work ?
Wilt thou whip thine own faults in other men ?
Do ſo, I have Gold for thee.

Poet. Nay let's ſeek him.
Then do we ſin against our own eſtate.
When we may profit meet, and come too late.

Painter. True :
When the day ſerves before black-corner'd night :
Find what thou want't, by free and offer'd light.
Come.

Tim. Ile meet you at the turn :
What a God's Gold, that he is worſhip.
In a baſer Temple, then where Swine feed ?
'Tis thou that riggt the Bark, and plow't the Fome,
Setleft admired reverence in a Slave,

To thee the worſhip, and thy Saints for aye :
Be crown'd with Plagues, that thee alone obey.
Fit I meet them.

Poet. Hail worthy Timon.
Pain. Our late Noble Maſter.
Timon. Have I once liv'd
To fee two honef't men ?
Poet. Sir:
Having often of your open Bounty taſted,
Hearing you were rety'r'd, your Friends faln off,
Whofe thankleſs Natures (O abhorred Spirits)
Not all the whips of Heaven, are large enough,
What, to you,
V Vhoſe Star-like Noblenefs gave life and influence
To their whole being ? I am rapt, and cannot cover
The monſtrous bulk of this Ingratitude
V Vith any ſize of words.

Timon. Let it go,
Nik'd men may ſee't the better :
You that are honef', by being what you are,
Make them beſt ſeen, and known.

Pain. He, and my ſelf
Have travel'd in the great ſhowr of your gifts,
And w'eetly ſel't ir.

Timon. I, you are honef't men.
Paint. V V e are hither come
To offer you our ſervice.

Timon. Moſt honef't men :

VVhy

Timon of Athens.

685

Why how shall I requite you?

Can you eat Roots, and drink cold water, no?

Both. What we can do,

Wee'l do, to do you service.

Tim. Y'are honest men,

Y'have heard that I have Gold
I am sure you have, I speak truth, y'are honest men.

Pain. So it is said my Noble Lord, but therefore
Came not my Friend, nor I.

Tim. Good honest man: thou draw'st a counterfeit
Bef't in all Athens, that't indeed the beſt,
Thou counterfe't moſt lively.

Pain. So, so, my Lord.

Tim. E'ne so fir as I fay. And for thy ſction,

Why thy Verſe ſwells with ſtuffe so fine and ſmooth,
That thou art even Naturall in thine Art.

But for all this (my honest Natur'd friends)

I muſt needs ſay you have a little ſault,

Marry 'tis not monſtrous in you, neither with I

You take much pains to mend.

Both. Be ſeech your Honour

To make it known to you.

Tim. You'll take it ill.

Both. Moſt thankfully, my Lord.

Tim. Will you indeed?

Both. Doubt it not worthy Lord.

Tim. There's never a one of you but truſts a knave,
That mightily deceives you.

Both. Do we my Lord?

Tim. I, and you hear him cogge,

See him diſſemble,

Know his groſſe patchery, love him, feed him,

Keep in your boſom, yet remain aſſur'd

That he's a made-up Villain.

Pain. I know none ſuch, my Lord.

Poet. Nor I.

Tim. Look you,

I love you well, ile give you Gold

Rid me theſe Villains from your companies;

Hang them, or ſtab them, drown them in draughts,

Conſound them by ſome courſe, and come to me,

Ile give you Gold enough

Both. Name them my Lord, let's know them.

Tim. You that way, and you this:

But two in company:

Each man apart, all ſingle, and alone,

Yet an arch Villain keeps him company:

If where thou art, two villiſans ſhall not be,

Come not neer him. If thou would'st not recide

But where one villain is, then him abandon.

Hence, pack, there's Gold, ye came for Gold ye ſlaves:

You have work for me, : there's payment, thence,

You are an Alcuniſt, make Gold of that:

Out Rascall dogges.

Exeunt.

Enter Steward, and two Senators.

Stew. It is in vain that you would ſpeak with Timon:

For he is fet ſo onely to himſelf,

That nothing but himſelf, which looks like man,

Is friendly with him.

1 Sen. Bring ns to his Cave.

It is our part and promife to th' Athenians

To ſpeak with Timon.

2 Sen. At all times alike

Men are not ſill the fame : 'twas Time and Greeſs

That fram'd him thus. Time with his fairer hand,
Offering the Fortunes of his former daies,
The former man may make him : bring us to him
And chance it as it may.

Stew. Here is his Cave:

Peace and content be here, Timon, Timon,

Look out, and ſpeak to friends : Th' Athenians

By two of their moſt reverend Senate greet thee :

Speak to them Noble Timon.

Enter Timon out of his Cave.

Tim. Thou Sun that comfort burn,
Speak and be hang'd :

For each true word, a blifter, and each falſe

Be as a Catherizing to the root o' th' tongue

Conſuming it with ſpeaking.

1 Worthy Timon.

Tim. Of none but ſuch as you,

And you of Timon.

1. The Senators of Athens greet thee Timon.

Tim. I thank them,

And would ſend them back the plague,

Could I but catch it for them.

1. O forget

What we are for ſory for our ſelves in thee:

The Senators, with one ſentent of love,

Intreat thee back to Athens, who have thought

On ſpecial Dignities, which vacant lie

For thy beſt ule and wearing.

2. They confefſe

Toward thee, forgetſulneſſe too general groſſe,

Which now the publike Body, which doth ſeldom,

Play the re-canter, feeling in it ſelf

A lack of Timons aid, hath ſince withall

Of it own fall, reſtraining aid to Timon,

And ſend forth us to make their ſorrowed render,

Together, with a recompence more fruitful

Then their offenſe can weigh down by the Dramme,

I even ſuch heaps and ſummes of Love and Wealth,

As ſh it to thee blot out, what wrongs were theirs,

And write in thee, the figures of their Love,

Ever to read them thine.

Tim. You witch me in it;

Surprize me to the very brink of tears ;

Lend me a fools heart, and a womans eies,

And ile beweep theſe comforts, worthy Senators.

1. Therefore ſo please thee to return with us,

And of our Athens, thine and ours to take

The Captainſhip, thou ſhalt be met with thanks,

Allowed with abſolute power, and thy good name

Live with authority : so ſoon we ſhall drive back

Of Alcibiades h'approaches wild

Who like a Boar too laviſage, doth root up
His Countreys peace.

2. And flakes his threatening Sword
Against the walls of Athens.

1. Therefore Timon.

Tim. Well ſir, I will : therefore I will ſir thus :
If Alcibiades kill my Countreymen,

Let Alcibiades know this of Timon.

That Timon cares not. But if he fack fair Athens,

And take our goodly aged men by th'Earaus,

Giving our holy Virgins to theſtain

Of contumelious, beaſtly, mad-brain'd warre :

Then let him know, and tell him Timon ſpeaks it.

M m m 3

In

Timon of Athens.

In pittry of our aged, and our youth,
I cannot choose but tell him that I care not,
And let him tak't at workt : For their knives care not,
While you have throats to answër. For my self,
There's not a whittle in th' unruly Camp,
But I do prize it at my love, before
The reverend Throat in Athens. So I leave you
To the protection of the profserous Gods,
As Theeves to Keepers.

Stew. Stay not, all's in vain.

Tim. Why I was writing of my Epitaph,
It will be seen to morrow. My long fickneffle
Of Health, and Living, now begins to mend,
And nothing brings me all things. Go, live still,
Be Alcibiades your plague; you his,
And laft so long enough.

1. We speak in vain,

Tim. But yet I love my Countrey, and am not
One that rejoices in the common wrack,
As common bruit doth put it.

1. That's well spoke.

Tim. Commend me to my loving Countrey-men.

1. These words become your lips as they paſſe thorow
them.

2. And enter into our ears, like great Triumphers
In their applauding gates.

Tim. Commend me to them,
And tell them, that to eafe them of their griefs,
Their fears of Hoftile ſtrokes, their Aches loffes,
Their pangs of Love, with other incident throwes
That Natures fragile veſſell doth ſutſtain
In lifes uncertain voyage, I will ſome kindneſſe do them,
Ile teach them to prevent wild Alcibiades wrath.

1. I like this well, he will return again.

Tim. I have a Tree which grows here in my Cloſe,
That mine own uſe invites me to cut down,
And ſhortly muſt I fell it. Tell my Friends,
Tell Athens, in the frequence of degree,
From high to low throughout, that who ſo pleasa
To ſtop Affliction, let him take his haſte ;
Come hither ere my Tree hath felt the Axe,
And hang him ſelf. I pray you do my greeting.

Stew. Trouble him no further, thus you ſtill ſhall
Find him.

Tim. Come not to me again, but ſay to Athens,
Timon hath made his everlatting Manſion
Upon the Beached Verge of the ſalt Flood,
Which once a day with his emboffed Froth
The turbulent Surge ſhall cover; thither come,
And let my grave-flone be your Oracle:
Lips, let four words go by, and Language end :
What is amiffle, Plague and Inſection mend.
Graves only be mens works, and Death their gain ;
Sunne, hide thy beams, Timon hath done his Raign.

Exit Timon.

1. His discontents are unremoveably coupled to Na-
ture.

2. Our hope in him is dead : let us return,
And train what other means is left unto us:
In our deer peril.

1. It requires ſwift foot.

Exeunt.

Enter two other Senators, with a Meſſenger.

1. Thou haſt painfully diſcover'd : are his Files
As full as thy report ?

Mef. I have ſpoke the leaſt.

Befides his expedition promifes prefent approach.

2. We ſtand much hazard, if they bring not Timon.

Mef. I met a Currier, one mine ancient friend,
Whom though in general part we were oppos'd,
Yet our old love made a particular force,
And made us speak like Friends. This man was riding
From Alcibiades to Timons Cave,
With Letters of intreaty, which imported
His Fellowship i'th'caufe against your City,
In part for his ſake mov'd.

Enter the other Senators.

1. Here come our Brothers.
3. No talk of Timon, nothing of him expect,
The Enemies Drumme is heard and fearful ſcouring
Doth choak the air with Duſt : In, and prepare,
Ours is the fall I fear, our foes the Snare.
Exeunt.

Enter a Souldier in the woods seeking Timon.

Sol. By all deſcription this should be the place.
Who's here ? Speak ho ! No anſwer ? What is this ?
Timon is dead, who hath out-ſtrecht his ſpan,
Some Beaſt read this; There does not live a Man.
Dead ſure, and this his Grave, what's on this Tomb ?
I cannot read : the Character ile take with wax,
Our Captain hath in every figure skill,
An ag'd interpreter, though young in daies :
Before proud Athens he's let down by this,
Whoſe fall the mark of his ambition is.
Exit.

Trumpets found. Enter Alcibiades with his powers before Athens.

Alc. Sound to this Coward and laſcivious Town,
Our terrible approach.

Sounds a party.

The Senators appear upon the walls.

Till now you have gone on, and fill'd the time
With all Licencious meaſure, making your wills
The ſcope of Juitice. Till now my ſelf and ſuch
As ſlept within the shadow of your power
Have wander'd with our traverſt Arms, and breath'd
Our ſufferance vainly. Now the time is fluſh,
When crouching Marrow in the bearer ſtrong
Cries (of it ſelf) no more: Now breathleſſe wrong,
Shall fit and pant in your great Chairs of eafe,
And purſue Inſolence ſhall break his wind
With fear and horrid flight.

1. Sen. Noble and young ;
When thy first griefs were but a meer conceit,
Ere thou hadt power, or we had cauſe to fear,
We ſent to thee, to give thy rages Balme,
To wipe out our ingratitude, with Loves
Above their quantity.

2. So did we woe
Transformed Timon to our Cities love
By humble Meſſage, and by promiſt means :
We were not all unkind, nor all deferve
The common ſtroke of warre.
1. These walls of ours,
Vere not erected by their hands, from whom
You have receiv'd your grief: Nor are they ſuch,
That these great Towres, Trophees, & Schools ſhould fall
For private faults in them.

2. Nor are they living

VVho

Timon of Athens.

687

Who were the motives that you first went out,
Shame (that they wanted cunning in excess)
Hath broke their hearts, March, Noble Lord,
Into our City with thy Banners spred,
By decimation and a tyred death;
If thy Revenges hunger for that Food
Which Nature loathes, take thou the delin'd tenth,
And by the hazard of the lo'dt dye,
Let die the spotted,

1. All have not offended:
For those that were, it is not square to take,
On those that are, Revenge: Crimes, like Lands
Are not inherited, then dear Countryman,
Bring in thy rankes, but leave without thy rage,
Spare thy Athenian Cradle, and those Kin
Which in the bluffer of thy wrath must fall
With those that have offended, like a Shepherd,
Approach the Fold, and cull them infected forth,
But kill not all together.

2. What thou wilt,
Thou rather wilt enforce it with thy smile,
Then how to't with thy Sword.

1. Set but thy foot
Against our rampyr'd gates, and they shall ope:
So thou wilt send thy gentle heart before,
To say thou'rt enter Friendly.

2. Throw thy Glove,
Or any token of thine honour else,
That thou wilt use the wars as thy redrefs,
And not as our Confusion: All thy Powers
Shall make their harbour in our Town till we
Have feal'd thy full defence.

Alc. Then there's my Glove,
Defend and open your uncharged Ports,

Those Enemies of Timons, and mine own
Whom you your felves shall let out for reproof,
Fall and no more; and to arone your feares
With my more Noble meaning, not a man
Shall paf his quarter, or offend the stream
Of Regular Juftice in your Cities bounds,
But shall be remedied by your publick Lawes
At heavyft anfwer.

Both. 'Tis moft Nobly spoken.

Alc. Defend, and keep your words.

Enter a Messenger.
Mef. My Noble General, Timon is dead,
Entomb'd upon the very hem of't. Sea,
And on his Graveftone, this Infculpure which
With wax I brought away: whose loft Imprefſion
Interprets for my poor ignorance.

Alcibiades reades the Epitaph.
Here lies a wretched Coarſe, of wretched Soul bereſt,
Seek not my name: A Plague confume you, Catiſs left:
Here lie I Timon, who all living men, did hate,
Paſs by, and curſe thy fill, but ifay not here thy gate.
Thefe well exprefs in thee thy latter spirits:
Though thou abhord'ft in us our humane griefe,
Scorridt our Braines flow, and thofe our droplets, which
From niggard Nature fall; yet Rich Conceit
Taught thee to make vajt Neptune weep for aye
On thy low Grave: on faults forgiven. Dead
Is Noble Timon, of whose Memory
Hereafter more. Bring me into your City,
And I will uſe the Olive with my Sword:
Make war breed peace; make peace ſtint war, make each
Prefcribe to other, as each others Leach.
Let our Drums strike.
Exeunt.

FINIS.

688

THE
ACTORS

NAMES.

Ymon of Athens.

Lucius And

Lucullus, two Flattering Lords.

Appemantus, a Churlish Philosopher.

Sempronius another flattering Lord.

Alcibiades, an Athenian Captain.

Poet.

Painter.

Jeweller.

Merchant.

Certain Senators.

Certain Maskers.

Certain Theeves.

Flaminius, one of Tynons Servants.

Servilius, another.

Caphis

Varro.

Philo.

Titus.

Lucius

Hortenius.

Ventidius, one of Tymons false Friends,
Cupid.

Sempronius.

With divers other Servants.

And Attendants.

Several Servants to lurers.

THE TRAGEDY OF
JULIUS CÆSAR.

*Actus Primus. Scena Prima.*

Enter Flavius, Murellus, and certain Commoners
over the Stage.

Flavius.

Hence: ho ne you idle Creatures, get you home:
Is this a Holiday ? What, know you not
(Being Mechanically) you ought not walk
Upon a labouring day, without the figne
Of your Profezion ? Speak, what Trade art thou ?

Car. Why Sir, a Carpenter.

Mur. Where is thy Leather apron, and thy Rule ?
What doft thou with thy beſt apparel on ?
You ſir, what Trade are you ?

Cobl. Truly Sir, in reſpect of a fine workman, I am
but as you would ſay, a Cobler.

Mur. But what Trade art thou ? anſwer me directly.

Cobl. A Trade Sir, that I hope I may uſe with a ſafe
Conſience, which is indeed Sir, a mender of bad ſouls.

Fla. What Trade thou knave ? Thou naughty knave,
what Trade ?

Cobl. Nay I beſeech you Sir, be not out with me : ye
if you be out Sir I can mend you.

Mur. What meanſt thou by that : Mend me, thou
ſawey Fellow ?

Cobl. Why fir, Cobble you.

Fla. Thou art a Cobler art thou ?

Cobl. Truly fir, all that I live by is with the Aule : I
meddle with no Tradefinns matters, nor woinns ma-
ters; but wicall I am indeed Sir a Surgeon to old ſhooes,
when they are in great danger, I recover them. As pro-
per men as ever trode upon Neats-Leather, have gone
upon my handy work.

Fla. But wherefore art not in thy Shop to day ?
Why doſt thou lead theſe men about the ſtreets ?

Cobl. Truly fir, to wear out their ſhooes, to get my
ſell into more work. But indeed fir we make: Holy-day
to fee Cæsar, and to rejoyce in his Triumph.

Mur. Wherefore rejoyce ?

What Conqueſt brings he home ?
What Tributaries follow him to Rome,
To grace in Captive bonds his Chariot wheels.
You Blocks, you ſtones, you worſe then ſenſeleſſe things:
O you hard hearſs, you cruel men of Rome,
Knew you not Pompey many a time and oft ?
Have you climb'd up to Walls and Battlements,
To Towers and Windows ? Ye a Chimney tops,
Your Infants in your Arms, and there have ſafe
The live-long day with patient expectation,

To ſee great Pompey paffe the ſtreets of Rome :
And when you ſaw his Chariot but appear,
Have you not made an Univerſal ſhout,
That Tyber trembled underneath her banks
To hear the replication of your ſounds,
Made in her Concave Snowes?

And do you now put on your beſt attire ?

And do you now cull out a Holy-day ?

And do you now ſtrew Flowers in his way,
That comes in Triumph over Pompey's blood ?

Be gone,

Runne to your ſhouſes, fall upon your knees,

Pray to the Gods to intermit the Plague
That needs muſt light on this ingratitude.

Fla. Go, go, good Counſrey-men, and for this fault
Aſſemle all the poor men of your fort ;

Draw them to Tyber banks, and weep your tears

Into the Channell, till the lowſt ſtream

Do kiffle the moſt exalted Shores of all.

Exeunt all the Commoners.

See where their baſeſt mettle be not mov'd,
They vaniſh tongue-ty'd in their guiltineſſe :

Go you down that way tow'rds the Capitoll,
This way will I: Diſtrobe the Images,

If you do find them deckt with Ceremonies.

Mur. May we do ſo ?

You know it is the Fe ſt of Lupercall.

Fla. It is no matter, let no Images

Be hung with the Cæſars Trophies : Ile about,

And drive away the Vulgar from the ſtreets ;
To do you too, where you perceive them thick.

Theſe growing Feathers, pluckt from Cæſars wing,
Vill make him flye an ordinary pitch,

VWho eſſe would fore above the view of men.

And keep us all in ſervile fearfulneſſe.

Exeunt.

Enter Cæſar, Antony for the Courſe, Calphurnia, Portia, De-
cius, Cicero, Brutus, Caffius, Caska, a Soothſayer: after
them Murellus and Flavius.

Cæſ. Calphurnia.

Caska. Peace ho, Cæſar ſpeaks.

Cæſ. Calphurnia.

Calp. Here my Lord.

Cæſ. Stand you directly in Antonio's way,
VWhen he doth run his courſe. Antonio.

Ant. Cæſar, my Lord.

Cæſ. Forget not in your ſpeed Antonio,
To touch Calphurnia: for our Elders ſay,

The

["The Tragedy of Julius Caesar.", "690", "The Barren touched in, this holy chafe,\nShake off their ferril curfe.", "Ant. I shall remember", "V When *Cæsar* faies Do this; it is perform'd.", "Cæs. Set on, and leave no Ceremony out,\nSooth. *Cæsar*.", "Cæs. Ha ? VVho calls ?", "Cæs. Bid every noife be full: peace yet again,", "Cæs. VVho is it in the preſſe, that calls on me?", "I hear a Tongue THRiller then all the Mulick", "Cry, *Cæsar* : Speak, *Cæsar* is turn'd to hear.", "Sooth. Beware the Ides of March.", "Cæs. VVhat man is that?", "Br. A Sooth-fayer bids you beware the Ides of March.", "Cæs. Set him before me, let me fee his face,", "Caſſi. Fellow, come from the throng, look upon *Caſſar*.", "Cæs. VVhat faſt thon to me now? Speak once again.", "Sooth. Beware the Ides of March.", "Cæs. He is a Dreamer let us leave him : Paffe.", "Sennet. Exenunt. Manet Brut. & Caff.", "Caſſi. Will you go fee the order of the courſe?", "Brut. Not I.", "Caſſi. I pray you do.", "Brut. I am not Gameſom : I do lack some part", "Of that quick Spirit that is in Antony :", "Let me not hinder *Caſſius* your defires;", "Ile leave you.", "Caſſi. *Brutus*, I do obſerve you now of late :", "I have not from your eyes that gentlenſe", "And ſhew of Love, as I was wont to have :", "You bear too ſubborn, and too ſtrange a hand", "Over your Friend, that loves you.", "Bri. *Caſſius*.", "Be not deceiv'd: if I have veyl'd my look,", "I turn the trouble of my Countenance", "Meerly upon my ſelf. Vexed I am", "Of late, with paffions of ſome difference,", "Conceptions onely proper to my ſelf,", "Which give ſome foyle (perhaps) to my Behaviours :", "But let not therefore my good friends be griev'd\n(Among which number *Caſſius* be you one)", "Nor conſtue any further my neglect,", "Then that poor *Brutus* with himſelf at warre,", "Forgets the ſhews of Love to other men.", "Caſſi. Then *Brutus*, I have much miſtook your paffion,", "By means whereof, this Breſt of mine hath buried", "Thoughts of great value, worthy Cogitations.", "Tell me good *Brutus*, can you fee your face ?", "Bri. No *Caſſius*?", "For the eye fees not himself, but by reflection,\nBy ſome other things.", "Caſſius. 'Tis juſt,", "And it is very much lamented *Brutus*,", "That you have no ſuch Mirrors, as will turn", "Your hidden worthineſſe into your eye,", "That you might fee your ſhadow :", "I have heard,", "Where many of the beſt reſpect in *Rome*,", "(Except immortal *Cæsar*) ſpeaking of *Brutus*,", "And groaning underneath this ages yoak,", "Have with'd that Noble *Brutus* had his eyes.", "Bri. Into what dangers would you", "Lead me *Caſſius*?", "That you would have me ſeeke into my ſelf,", "For that which is not in me ?", "Cæs. Therefore good *Brutus* be prepar'd to hear ;", "And ſince you know you cannot fee your ſelf", "So well as by Reflection, I your Glaffe,", "Will modetly discover to your ſelf", "That of your ſelf, which yet you know not of,", "And be not jealous on me, gentle *Brutus*", "Were I a common Laughſer, or did uſe", "To ſtale with ordinary Oaths my Love", "To every new Proſtefer: if you know,", "That I do fawn on men, and hug them hard,", "And after ſcandall them : or if you know,", "That I profefſe in Banqueting", "To all the Rout, then hold me dangerous.", "Flourish and Shout.", "Bri. What means this Showting?", "I do fear the people choose *Cæsar*", "For their King.", "Caſſi. I do you fear it?", "Then muſt I think you would not have it ſo.", "Bri. I would not *Caſſius*, yet I love him well :", "But wherefore do you hold me here ſo long ?", "What is it, that you would impart to me ?", "If it be ought toward the general good,", "Set Honour in one eye, and death i'th'other,", "And I will look on both indifferently :", "For let the Gods ſo ſpeed me, as I love", "The name of Honour, more then I fear death.", "Caſſi. I know that vertue to be in you *Brutus*,\nAs well as I do know your outward favour,\nWell, Honor is the ſubject of my Story :", "I cannot tell, what you and other men", "Think of this life : But what single ſelf,", "I had as lief not be, as live to be", "In awe of such a thing, as I my ſelf.", "I was born free as *Cæsar*, ſo were you,", "We both have ſed as well, and we can both", "Endure the Winters cold, as well as he.", "For once upon a Raw and Guſty day,", "The troubled Tyber chafing with his Shores,", "*Cæsar* faies to me, dar it thou *Caſſius* now", "Leap in with me into this angry Flood,", "And ſwim to yonder Point ? Upon the word,", "Accommod as I was, I plunged in,", "And bad him follow : ſo indeed he did.", "The Torrent roar'd, and we did buſſet it", "With luſty Sinews, throwing it aside,", "And ſtemming it with hearts of Controverſie.", "But ere we could arrive the Point propos'd,", "*Cæsar* cry'd. Help me *Caſſius*, or I ſink.", "I (as Æneas, our great Anceſtor,", "Did from the Flames of Troy, upon his shoulder", "The old Anchises bear) ſo, from the waves of Tyber", "Did I the tired *Cæsar* : And this Man", "Is now become a God, and *Caſſius* is", "A wretched Creature, and muſt bend his body,", "If *Cæsar* careſely but nod on him.", "He had a Feaver when he was in *Spain*", "And when the Fit was on him, I did mark", "How he did ſake: Tis true, this God did ſake,", "His Coward lips did from their colour flye,", {"bbox": [644, 1283, 986, 1304], "category": "Text

The Tragedy of Julius Cæsar.

691

As a fick Girle: Ye Gods, it doth amaze me,
A man of such a feeble temper should
So get the flart of the Majeftick world,
And bear the Palm alone.

Shont.

Fleurish.

Bru. Another general flout ?

I do believe, that thefe applaufes are
For some new Honours, that are heap'd on Cæsar.

Caffi. Why man, he doth beſtride the narrow world
Like a Coloſſus, and we petty men
Walk under his huge legs, and peep about
To find our ſelves diſhonourable Graves.
Men at ſome time, are Maſters of their Fates.
The fault (dear Brutus) is not in our Stars,
But in our Selves, that we are underlings.

Brutus and Cæsar: What ſhould be in that Cæsar ?
Why ſhould that name be founded more then yours
Write them together: yours is as fair a Name :
Sound them, it doth become the mouth as well.
Weigh them, it is as heavy: Conjure withem man,
Brutus will ſtart a Spirit as soon as Cæsar.
Now in the names of all the Gods at once,
Upon what meat doth this our Cæsar feed,
That he is grown to great ? Age, thou art ſham'd.
Rome, thou haſt loſt the breed of noble Blouds.

When went there by an Age, ſince the great Floud,
But it was fam'd with more then with one man ?
VVhen could they ſay (till now) that talk'd of Rome,
That her wide walkes incompaſt but one ?
Now is it Rome indeed, and Room enough
When there is in it but one only man.

O! you and I, have heard our Fathers ſay,
There was a Brutus once, that would have brook'd
Th' eternal Devil to keep his State in Rome,
As easily as a King.

Bru. That you do love me, I am nothing jealous :
VVhat you would work me to, I have ſome aim :
How I have thought of this, and of these times :
I shall recount hereafter: For this preſent,
I would not ſo (with love I might entreat you)
Be any further mov'd: VVhat you have ſaid,
I will confider: what you have to ſay
I will with patience hear, and ſind a time
Both meet to hear, and anſwer ſuch high things.
Till then my Noble Friend, chew upon this :
Brutus had rather be a Villager,
Then to repure himſelf a Son of Rome:
Under theſe hard Conditions, as this time
Is like to lay upon us.

Caffi. I am glad that my weak words
Have ſtruck but thus much ſhew of fire from Brutus.

Enter Cæsar and his Train.

Bru. The Games are done,
And Cæsar is returning.

Caffi. As they pafs by,
Pluck Caska by the Sleeve,
And he will (after his ſowr fashion) tell you
VVhat hath proceeded worthy note to day.

Bru. I will do ſo: but look you Caffins,
The angry (pot) doth blow on Cæſars brow,
And all the reſt look like a chidden train;
Calphurnia's Cheek is pale, and Cicero
Lookes with ſuch Ferret, and ſuch ſiery eyes
As we have ſeen him in the Capitof.

Being croſt in Conference, by ſome Senators.

Caffi. Caska will tell us what the matter is.

Caf. Antonio.

Ant. Cæsar.

Caf. Let me have men about me that are far,
Sleek-headed men, and ſuch as ſleep a nights :
Yond Caffius has a lean and hungry look,
He thinks too much: ſuch men are dangerous.

Ant. Fear him not Cæsar, he's not dangerous,
He is a Noble Roman, and well given.

Caf. VVould he were fatter ; But I fear him not :
Yet if my name were liable to fear,
I do not know the man I should avoid,
So ſoon as that ſpare Caffius. He reads much,
He is a great Obferver, and he lookses

Quite through the Deeds of men. He loves no Playes,
As thou doſt Antony: he heares no Muſick :

Seldom he ſmiles, and ſmiles in ſuch a ſort
As if he mock'd himſelf, and ſcorn'd his ſpirit

That could be mov'd to ſmile at any thing,

Such men as he, be never at hearts eafe

VVhiles they behold a greater then themſelves,
And therefore are they very dangerous.

I rather tell thee what is to be fear'd,

Then what I fear: for alwaies I am Cæsar,
Come on my right hand, for this ear is deaf,
And tell me truly, what thou think't of him.

Sennit.

Exenunt Cæsar and his Train.

Cask. You pul'd me by the Cloak, would you ſpeak with
me ?

Bru. I Caska, tell us what hath chanc'd to day
That Cæsar lookses ſo fad.

Cask. VVhy you were with him, were you not ?

Bru. I ſhould not then ask Caska what had chanc'd.

Cask. VVhy there was a Crown offer'd him ; and being
offer'd him, he put it by with the back of his hand thus,
and then the people fell a ſhouting.

Bru. VVhat was the ſecond noyle for ?

Cask. VVhy for that too.

Caffi. They ſhouſed thrice: what was the laſt cry for ?
Cask. VVhy for that too.

Bru. VVas the Crown offer'd him thrice ?

Cask. I marry was't, and he put it by thrice, every time
gentler then other; and at every putting by, mine honeſt
Neighbours ſhouſed.

Caf. VVho offer'd him the Crown ?

Cask. VVhy Antony.

Bru. Tell us the manner of it, gentle Caska.

Caska. I can as well be hang'd as tell the manner of it:
It were meer Foolery, I did not mark it. I ſaw Mark
Antony offer him a Crown, yet 'twas not a Crown nei-
ther, 'twas one of theſe Coroners: and as I told you,
he put it by once: but for all that, to my thinking, he
would fain have had it. Then he offered it to him again :
then he put it by again: but to my thinking, he was
very loath to lay his fingers off it. And then he offe-
red it the third time: he put it the third time by, and ſtill
as he refus'd it, the rabblement howtred, and clapp'd
their chopt hands, and threw up their ſweaty Night-
caps, and uttered ſuch a deal of ſinking breath, be-
cauſe Cæsar refus'd the Crown, that it had (almoſt)
choaked Cæsar: for he ſwoonded, and ſell down
at it: And for mine own part, I durſt not laugh,
for fear of opening my Lips, and receiving the bad
Ayr.

Caffi.

The Tragedy of Julius Caesar.

692

Caſi. But soft I pray you: what did Cæsar fwound?
Caſk. He fell down in the Market-place, and foam'd at
mouth, and was speechleſs.

Brut. Is very like he hath the falling fickneſſs.

Caſi. No, Cæsar hath it not: but you, and I.
And honest Caska, we have the falling fickneſſs.

Caſk. I know not what you mean by that, but I am ſure
Caſar fell down, if the rag rag people did not clap him,
and hiss him, according as he pleas'd, and diſpleas'd
them, as they use to do the Players in the Theatre, I am
no true man.

Brut. What faſd he, when he came unto himſelf?

Caſk. Marry, before he fell down, when he perceiv'd
the common Heard was glad he refus'd the Crown, he
pluckt me ope his Doublet, and offer'd them his Throat
to cut: and I had been a man of any Occupation, if I
would not have taken him at a word, I would I might
go to Hell among the Rogues, and ſo he fell. When
he came to himſelf again, he faſd, If he had done, or
faſd any thing amifs, he deſir'd their worſhips to think
it was his infirmity. Three or four Wenches where I
ſlood, cryed, Alas good Soul, and forgave him with
all their hearts: But there's no heed to be taken of them; if
Caſar had ſtub'd their Mothers, they would have done no
leſs.

Brut. And after that, he came thus ſad away.

Caſk. I.

Caſi. Did Cicero ſay any thing?

Caſk. I, he ſpok'd Greek.

Caſi. To what effect?

Caſk. Nay, and I tell you that, I ne're look you i' the
face again. But thofe that underſood him, ſm'd at one
another, and ſhock their heads: but for mine own part it
was Greek to me. I could tell you more news too: Mu-
rellas and Flavius, for pulling Scarffes off Caſars Images,
are put to ſilence. Fare you well. There was more Foolery
yet, if I could remember it.

Caſk. Will you ſup with me to night, Caska?

Caſk. No, I am promis'd forth.

Caſi. Will you dine with me to morrow?

Caſk. I, if I be alive, and your mind hold, and your din-
ner worth the eating.

Caſi. Good, I will expect you.

Caſk. Do so: farewell both.

Exit.

Bru. What a blunt fellow is this grown to be?

He was quick Mettle, when he went to School.

Caſi. So is he now, in execution

Of any bold or noble Enterprize,

How-ever he puts on this tardy form :

This Rudeneſs is a Sawce to his good wit,

Which gives men ſtomack to digeſt his words

With better Appetites.

Brut. And do is :

For this time I will leave you :

To morrow if you please to ſpeak with me,

I will come home to you: or if you will,

Come home to me, and I will wait for you.

Caſi. I will do so: till then, think of the world.

Exit Brutus.

VVell Brutus, thou art Noble: yet I ſee

Thy honourable Metal may be wrought

From that it is diſpos'd, therefore 'tis meet,

That Noble minds keep ever with their likes :

For who ſo firm, that cannot be ſeduc'd?

Caſar doth bear me hard, but he loves Brutus.

If I were Brutus now, and he were Caſius,
He should not humor me. I will this night,
In ſeveral hands, in at his windows throw,
As if they came from ſeveral Citizens;
VWritings, all tending to the great opinion
That Rome holds of his Name: wherein obscurely
Caſars ambition shall be glanced at.

And after this, let Caſar fear him ſure,
For we will shake him, or worse dates endure.

Exit.

Thunder and Lightning. Enter Caska,
and Cicero.

Cic. Good even, Caska: brought you Cæsar home?

VVhy are you breathleſs, and why ſtare you ſo?

Caſk. Are not you mov'd, when all the ſway of Earth

Shakes, like a thing unſirm? O Cicero,

I have ſeen Tempeſts, when the ſcolding winds

Have riv'd the knotty Oakes, and I have ſeen

Th'ambitious Ocean ſwell, and rage, and foam,

To be exalted with the threatening Clouds:

But never till to night, never till now,

Did I go through a Tempeſt-dropping-fire.

Either there is a Civil fire in heaven.

Or eſſe the world, too ſawey with the Gods,

Incenes them to ſend deſtruction.

Cic. VVhy, ſaw you any thing more wonderful?

Caſk. A common ſwe, you know him well by ſight,
Held up his left hand, which did flame and burn
Like twenty Torches joyn'd; and yet his hand,
Not ſenſible of fire, remain'd unſcorch'd.

Befides, I ha'n't ſince put up my Sword,

Against the Capitol I met a Lion,

VWho glaz'd upon me, and went ſurely by,

VVhoutano annoying me. And there were drawn

Upon a heap, a hundred gafftly women,

Transformed with their fear, who ſwore, they ſaw
Men, all in fire, walk up and down the fireers.

And yefterday, the Bird of Night did ſit,

Even at Noon day, upon the Market place,

Howtning, and ſhreeking. VWhen the ſePROdigies

Do ſo conjoyntly meet, let not men ſay,

Theſe are their Reaſons they are Natural:

For I believe, they are portentous things

Unto the Climate, that they point upon.

Cic. Indeed, it is a ſtrauge diſpoſed time :

But men may conſtrue things after their ſaſhion,

Clean from the purpofe of the things themſelves,

Comes Caſar up the Capitol to morrow?

Caſk. He doth : for he did bid Antonio

Send word to you, he would be there to morrow.

Cic. Good-night then, Caska.

This diſturbed Sky is not to walk in.

Caſk. Farewell Cicero.

Exit Cicero.

Enter Caſius.

Caſ. VWho's there?

Caſk. A Romane.

Caſ. Caska, by your voyce.

Caſk. Your Ear is good.

Caſiues, VVhat night is this?

Caſi. A very pleafing night to honest men.

Caſk. VWho ever knew the Heavens menace ſo?

Caſi. Thofe that have known the Earth ſo full of faults.

For

The Tragedy of Julius Caesar.

For my part I have walk'd about the streets,
Submitting me unto the perillous Night:
And thus unbraced, Caska, as you fee,
Have bar'd my Bofom to the Thunder-flone:
And when the croffe blew Lightning feem'd to open
The Breft of Heaven, I did preſent my ſelf
Even in the aime, and very ſlaph of it.
(vens?)

Cask. But wherefore did you ſo much tempt the Hea-
It is the part of men, to fear and tremble,
When the moſt Mighty Gods by tokens ſend
Such dreadful Heraulds, to aſtoniſh us.

Caffi. You are dull, Caska:
And thatof ſparks of Life that should be in a Roman,
You do want, or eſſe you uſe nor,
You look pale, and gaze, and put on fear,
And caſt your ſelf in wonder,
To fee the ſtrange impatience of the Heavens:
But if you would confider the true cauſe,
Why all theſe fires, why all theſe gliding Ghoſts,
Why Birds and Beaſts, from quality and kind,
Why Old men, Fools, and Children calculate,
Why all theſe things change from their Ordinance,
Their Natures, and pre-formed Faculties,
To monſtrous quality; why you ſhall find,
That Heaven hath inſus'd them with theſe Spirits,
To make them inſtruments of ſear, and warning,
Unto ſome monſtrous State.

Now could I(Caska) name to thee a man,
Moſt like this dreadful Night,
That Thunders, Lightens, opens Graves, and tears,
As doth the Lyon in the Capitol;
A man no mightier then thy ſelf, or me,
In personal action; yet prodigious grown
And fearful as theſe ſtrange eruptions are,
Cask. Tis Cæſar that you mean,
Is it not, Caffins?

Caf. Let it be who it is : for Romans now
Have Sinews and Limbs like to their Ancients;
But woe the while, our Fathers minds are dead,
And we are govern'd with our Mothers ſpirits,
Our yoak, and ſufferance, ſhew us womaniſh.
Cask. Indeed, they ſay, the Senators to morrow
Mean to eſtablifh Cæſar as a King:
And he ſhall wear his Crown by Sea, and Land,
In every place, ſave here in Italy.

Caf. I know where I will weare this Dagger then;
Caffins from bondage will deliver Caffins:
Therein, ye Gods, you make the weak moſt ſtrong;
Therein, ye Gods, ye Tyrants do defeat.
Nor Stony Tower, nor Walls of beaten Braſſe,
Nor air-letſe Dungeon, nor ſtrong Links of Iron,
Can be retentive to the ſtrength of Spirit:
But Life being weary of theſe worldly Barres,
Never lacks power to diſmiffe it ſelf.
If I know this, know all the world beſides,
That part of Tyranny that I do bear,
I can ſake off at pleasure.
Thunder ſtill.

Cask. So can I:
So every Bond-man in his own hand bears
The power to Cancel his Captivity.

Caf. And why should Cæſar be a Tyrant then?
Poor man, I know he would not be a Wolfe,
But that he fees the Romans are but Sheep;
He were no Lyon, were no Romans Hindes.
Thofe that with haſte will make a mighty fire,
Begin it with weak Straws. What trafſh is Rome?

What Rubbiſh, and what Offall ? when it ſerves
For the bafe matter, to illuminate
So vile a thing as Cæſar. But oh grief,
Where haſt thou led me ? I(perhaps) ſpeak this
Before a willing Bond-man : then I know
My anſwer muſt be made. But I am arm'd,
And dangers are to me indifferent.

Cask. You ſpeak to Caska, and to ſuch a man,
That is no ſlearing Tell-tale. Hold, my hand :
Be ſaſtious for redreſſe of all theſe Grieſs,
And I will fet this foot of mine as farre,
As who goes fartheſt.

Caf. There's a Bargain made.
Now know you, Caska, I have mov'd already
Some certain of the Nobleft minded Romans
To under-goe, with me, an enterprize,
Of Honourable dangerous conſeqüence;
And I do know by this, they ſay for me
In Pompeys Porch; for now this ſeafarous night,
There is no ſtirre, or walking in the streets,
And the Complexion of the Element
Is Favours, like the work we have in hand,
Moſt bloody, ſiery, and moſt terrible.

Enter Cinna.

Cask. Stand close a while, for here comes one in
haſte.

Caf. Tis Cinna, I do know him by his Gate,
He is a friend. Cinna, where haſte you ſo?
Cinna. To find out you : Who's that, Metellus
Cymber?

Caf. No, it is Caska, one incorporate
To our Attempts. Am I not ſtaid for, Cinna?

Cin. I am glad on't.
What a ſeafarul Night?
There's two or three of us have ſeen ſtrange ſights.

Caf. Am I not ſtaid for ? tell me.
Cin. Yes, you are, O Caffius,
If you could but winne the Noble Brutus
To our party—

Caf. Be you content. Good Cimase this paper,
And look you lay it in the Pretors Chair,
Where Brutus may but find it: and throw this
In at his Window ; fet this up with waxe
Upon old Brutus Statue: all this done,
Repair to Pompeys Porch, where you ſhall find us.

Is Decius Brutus and Trebonius there?

Cin. All, but Metellus Cimber, and he's gone
To ſeek you at your houſe. Well, I will hie,
And ſo beſtow theſe papers as you bad me.

Caf. That done, repair to Pompeys Theater.
Exit Cinna.

Come Caska, you and I will yet, ere day,
See Brutus at his houſe: three parts of him
Is ours already, and the man entire
Upon the next encounter, yields him ours.

Cask. O, he ſits high in all the peoples hearts:
And that which would appear offence in us,
His Countenance, like richelt Alchymie,
Will change to Vertue, and to Worthinſe.

Caf. Him, and his worth, and our great need of him,
You have right well conceiſed : Ier us go,
For it is after Mid-night, and ere day,
We will awake him, and be ſure of him.

Nnn

Exeunt.
Actus

694

The Tragedy of Julius Caesar.

Actus Secundus.

Enter Brutus in his Orchard.

Bru. What Lucius, hoe ?
I cannot, by the progreffe of the Starres,
Give gueffe how neer to day-- Lucius, I say ?
I would it were my fault to sleep so foundly.
VWhen Lucius, when ? awake, I say : what Lucius?
Enter Lucius.

Luc. Call'd you, my Lord ?
Bru. Get me a Taper in my Study, Lucius:

When it is lighted, come and call me here.

Luc. I will, my Lord. Exit.

Bru. It must be by his death : and for my part,
I know no perſonal caufe, to ſpurn at him,
But for the general. He would be crown'd :
How that might change his Nature, there's the queſtion ?
It is the bright day, that brings forth the Adder,
And that craves wary walking : Crown him that,
And then I grant we put a ſting in him,
That at his will he may do danger with.
Th'abufe of Greatneſſe, is, when it disjoynes
Remorſe from power : And to ſpeak truth of Cæsar,
I have not known, when his affections ſway'd
More then his Reaſon. But tis a common proofe,
That Lowlineſe is young Ambitions Ladder,
VWhereo the Climber upward turns his ſace :
But when he once attains the upmoſt Round,
He then unto the Ladder turns his back.
Looks in the Clouds, ſcorning the bafe degrees
By which he did aſcend : ſo Cæsar may;
Then left he may, prevent. And ſince the quarrel
VWill bear no colour, for the thing he is,
Fashione it thus ; that what he is, augmented,
VWould run to theſe, and theſe extremities:
And therefore think him as a Serpents egge,
VWhich hatch'd, would as his kind grow miſchievous :
And kill him in the ſhelf.

Enter Lucius.

Luc. The Taper burneth in your Cloſer, Sir:
Searching the window for a Flint, I found
This Paper, thus ſeal'd up, and I am ſure
I did not lye there when I went to bed.

Gives him the Letter.

Bru. Get you to bed again, it is not day :
Is not to morrow (Boy) the firſt of March?

Luc. I know nor, Sir.

Bru. Look in the Callender, and bring me word.

Luc. I will, Sir. Exit.
Bru. The exhalations, whizzing in the air.

Give ſo much light : that I may read by them.

Opens the Letter and reads.

Bruus thou ſleep ſt ; awake, and ſee thy ſelf:
Shall Rome, &c. ſpeak, ſtrike, redreſſe.
Brutus, thou ſleep ſt : awake.

Such inſtigations have been often dropt.
VWhere I have took them up:

Shall Rome, &c. Thus muſt I piece it out :

Shall Rome ſt and under one man's awe ? VVhat Rome ?
My Anceſtors did from the freares of Rome:

The Tarquin drive, when he was called a King.

Speak, ſtrike, redreſſe, Am I entreated

To ſpeak, and ſtrike ? O Rome, I make the promife,
If the redreſſe will follow, thou receivest
Thy full Petition at the hand of Brutus.
Enter Lucius.

Luc. Sir, March is walted fifteen daies.

Knock within.

Bru. Tis good. Go to the Gate, ſome body knocks:
Since Caffius firſt did whet me against Cæsar,
I have not ſlept.

Between the acting of a dreaſful thing,

And the firſt motion, all the Interim is
Like a Phantasma, or a hideous Dream :
The Genius, and the mortal instruments

Are then in councell ; and the ſtate of man,

Like to a little Kingdom, ſuffers then
The nature of an infuſrection.

Enter Lucius.

Luc. Sir, tis your brother Caffius at the door,
VWho doth deſire to fee you.

Bru. Is he alone ?

Luc. No, Sir, there are moe with him.

Bru. Do you know them ?

Luc. No, Sir, their Hats are pluckt about their ears,
And half their Faces buried in their Cloaths,
That by no means I may diſcover them,
By any mark of favour.

Bru. Let them enter:

They are the Faſtion. O Conſpiracy,
Sham't thou to ſhow thy dang'rous Brow by Night,
VWhen evils are moſt free ? O then, by day
VWhere wilt thou find a Cavern dark enough,
To mask thy monſtrous Viſage ? Seek none Conſpiracy,
Hide it in Smiles, and Affability :

For if thou pase thy native ſemblance on,
Not Erebus it ſelf were dimme enough,
To hide the ſeem from prevention.

Caf. I think we are too bold upon your Reſt:
Good morrow Brutus, do we trouble you ?

Bru. I have been up this hour, awake all Night :
Know I theſe men, that come along with you ?

Caf. Yes, every man of them ; and no man here
But honors you : and every one doth with,
You had but that opinion of your ſelf,
VVhich every Noble Roman bears of you.

This is Trebonius.

Bru. He is welcome hither.

Caf. This, Decius Brutus.

Bru. He is welcome too.

Caf. This, Caska ; this Cinna; and this Metellus
Cimber.

Bru. They are all welcome.

VVhat watchful Cares do interpoſe themſelves

Be wixt your Eies and Night ?

Caf. Shall I intreat a word ?

They whisper.

Dec. Here lies the Eaſt : doth not the day break here?

Cask. No.

Cin. O pardon, Sir, it doth, and yon grey Lines,
That fret the Clouds, are Messengers of Day.

Cask. You ſhall conſeſſe that you are both deceiv'd :
Here as I point my Sword, the Sunne arifes,
VVhich is a great way growing on the South,

VVeigh-