Loves Labour's loft.

143

meane you ? you will lofe your reputation.

Brag. Gentlemen and Souldiers pardon me, I will not combat in my flirt.

Du. You may not deny it, Rompey hath made the challenge.

Brag. Sweet bloods, I both may, and will.

Bir. What reason have you for't?

Bra. The naked truth of it is, I have no shirt, I goe woolward for penance.

Boy. True, and it was injoyned him in Rome for want of Linnen: since when, Ile be wfore he wore none, but a difhout of Iaquenettas, and that hee weares next his heart for a favour.

Enter a Messenger, Monsieur Marcade.

Mar. God fave you Madam.

Prin. Welcome Marcade, but that thou interruptest our merriment.

Mere. I am forry 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 owne part, I breathe free breath: I have feene the day of wrong, through the little hole of discretion, and I will right my felfe like a Souldier.

Exennt Worthies.

Kin. How fare's your Majefly?

Prin. Boyet prepare, I will away to night.

Kin. Madam not fo, I doe befeech you that.

Prin. Prepare I fay. I thanke you gracious Lords For all your faire endeavours and entreats: Out of a new fad-foule, that you vouchſaſe, In your rich wifedome to excufe, or hide, The liberall oppofition of our ſpirits, Ifover-boldly we have borne our ſelves, In the converfe of breath (your gentlenefſe: Was guilty of it.) Farewell worthy Lord: A heavy heart beares not an humble tongue. Excufe me fo, comming ſo ſhort of thanks, For my great ſuit, ſo eafily obtain'd.

Kin. The extreme parts of time, extremely formes All caufes to the purpose of his ſpeed: And often at his very looke decides That, which long proceſe could not arbitrate. And though the mourning brow of progeny Forbid the fming curſe of Love: The holy ſuite which faine it would convince, Yet ſince loves argument was firſt on foote, Let not the cloud of ſorrow juffle it From what it purpofed: ſince to waile friends loſt, Is not by much ſo wholſome profitable, As to rejoyce at friends but newly found.

Prin. I underſand you not, my greeſes are double. Bir. Honeft plain words, beſt pierce the cares of griſe And by theſe badges underſand the King, For your faire fakes have we neglected time, Plaid foule play with our oathes: your beauty Ladies Hath much deformed us, fashioning our humors Even to the oppofed end of our intents. And what in us hath feem'd ridiculous: As Love is full of unbeſitting ſtraines, All wanton as a child, skipping and vaine. 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 roule, To every varied object in his glance: Which party-coated prefence of looke love Put on by us, if in your heavenly eyes, Have miſbecom'd our oathes and gravities. Thoſe heavenly eyes that looke into theſe faults, Suggested 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, faire Ladies you, And even that falſhood in it ſelfe a finne, Thus purifies it ſelfe, and turnes to grace.

Prin. We have receiv'd your Letters, full of Love: Your Favours, the Ambaffadors of Love. And in our maiden counſaile rated them: At courtſhip, pleafant jeſt, and curſeſſe, As bumbaſt and aslining to the time: But more devout then theſe are our reſpects. Have we not beene, and therefore met your loves In their owne ſashion, like a merriment.

Du. Our letters Madam, ſhew'd much more then jeſt.
Long. So did our lookses.
Rofa. Wee did not coate them fo.
Kin. Now at the lateſt minute of the houre, Grant us your loves.

Prin. A time me thinkes too ſhort, To make a world-without-end bargaine in: No, no my Lord, your Grace is perjur'd much, Full of deare guiltineſſe, and therefore this: If for my Love (as there is no ſuch cauſe) You will doe ought, this ſhall you doe for me, Your oath I will not truſt: but goe with ſpeed To fome forlorne and naked Hermitage, Remote from all the pleafures of the world: There ſay, untill the twelve Celestiall Signes Have brought about their annuall reckoning. If this auſter infociable life, Change not your offer made in heate of blood: If froils, and faſts, hard lodging, and thin weedes Nip not the gaudy bloſſomes of your Love, But that it beare this triall, and laſt love: Then at the expiration of the year, Come challenge me, challenge me by theſe deferts, And by this Virgin palme, now kiſſing thine, I will be thine: and till that inſant ſhut My woefull ſelfe 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 fodaine hand of death cloſe up mine eye. Hence ever then, my heart is in thy breſt.

Bir. And what to me my Love ? and what to me ?
Ref. You muſt be purged too, your finnes are rack'd, You are attainment with fault and perjury: Therefore if you my favour meane to get, A twelvemonth ſhall you ſpend, and never reſt, But feeke the weary beds of people ſicke.
Dum. But what to me my love ? but what to me ?
Kat. A wife ? a beard, faire health, and honesty; With three-fold love, I wifh you all theſe three.

Dum. O ſhall I fay, I thanke you gentle wife ?
Kat. Not fo my Lord, a twelvemonth and a day,

Ile

A
MIDSOMMER
Nights Dreame.

Actus Primus.

Enter Theseus, Hippolita, with others.

Theseus.

Ow faire Hippolita, our nuptiall houre
Drawes on apace: foure happy daies bring in
Another Moon: but oh, me thinks, how flow
This old Moon wanes? She lingers my de-
Like to a Step-dame, or a Dowager,
Long withering out a yong mans revennew.

Hip. Foure daies will quickly fleep thelfelves in nights,
Foure nights will quickly dreame away the times:
And then the Moone, like to a filer bow.
Now bent in heaven, shall behold the night
Of our solemnities.

The. Go Philostate,
Stirre up the Athenian youth to merriments,
Awake the pert and nimble spirit of mirth,
Turne melancholy forth to Funerals:
The pale companion is not for our pompe.
Hippolita, I woo'd thee with my sword,
And wonne thy love, doing thee injuries:
But I will wed thee in another key,
With pompe, with triumph, and with revelling.

Enter Egeus and his daughter Hermia, Lyfander,
and Demetrius.

Ege. Happy be Theseus, our renowned Duke.
The. Thanks good Egeus: what's the news with thee?
Ege. Full of vexation, come I, with complaint
Against my childe, my daughter Hermia.

Stand forth Demetrius.

My Noble Lord,
This man hath my consent to marry her.

Stand forth Lyfander.

And my gracious Duke,
This hath bewitch'd the bomeſe of my childe:
Thou,thou Lyfander, thou haſt given her rimes,
And interchang'd love-tokens with my childe:
Thou haſt by Moone-light at her window ſung,
With faining voice, verſes of faining love,
And ſtolne the impreſſion of her ſantafie,
With braclets of thy haire, rings, gawdes, conceits,
Knackes, trifles, Nofe-gaies, ſweet meats (meſſengers
Of ſtrong prevailment in vnhardned youth)

With cunning haſt thou filch'd my daughters heart,
Turn'd her obedience (which is due to me)
To ftuborne harſneſſe. And my gracious Duke,
Be it so ſhe will not heere before your Grace,
Conſent to marry with Demetrius,
I beg the ancient privilege of Athens,
As ſhe is mine, I may diſpofe of her;
Which ſhall be either to this Gentleman,
Or to her death, according to our Law,
Immediately provided in that cafe.

The. What ſay you Hermiar be advis'd faire Maid.
To you your Father ſhould be as a God;
One that compos'd your beauties; yea and one
To whom you are but as a forme in waxe
By him imprinted: and within his power,
To leave the figure, or disfigure it:
Demetrius is a worthy Gentleman.

Her. So is Lyfander.
The. In himſelfe he is.
But in this kinde, wanting your fathers voice
The other muſt be held the worthier.

Her. I would my father look'd but with my eyes.
The. Rather your ies muſt with his judgment ſooke.
Her. I do entreat your Grace to pardon me,
I know not by what power I am made bold,
Nor how it may concerne my modedtie
In ſuch a prefence heere to pleade my thoughts:
But I beſeech your Grace, that I may know
The worſt that may befall me in this cafe,
If I refufe to wed Demetrius.

The. Either to die the death, or to abjure
For ever the ſociety of men.
Therefore faire Hermia queſtion your defires,
Know of your youth, examine well your blood,
Whether (if you yeeld not to your fathers choice)
You can endure the livery of a Nunne,
For aye to be in ſhady Cloifter mew'd,
To live a barren filter all your life,
Chanting faint hymnes to the cold fruitſleſſe Moone,
Thrice bleſſed they that maifter to their blood,
To undergo ſuch maiden pilgrimage,
But earthier happy is the Rofe diſtill'd,
Then that which withering on the virgin thorne,
Growes, lives, and dies, in ſingle bleſſedneſſe.

N

Her.

A Midsummer nights Dreame.

Her. So will I grow, so live, so die my Lord,
Ere I will yeeld my virgin Patent up
Vnto his Lordship, to whose unwitned yoake,
My foule confents not to give fovereignty.

The. Take time to paule, and by the next new Moon
The fealing day betwixt my love and me,
For everlafting bond of fellowship:
Vpon that day either prepare to die,
For difobedience to you fathers will,
Or else to wed Demetrius as hee would,
Or on Diánaes Altar to proteft
For aie, auferity, and tingle life.

Dem. Relent, I weet Hermia, and Lyfander, yceelde
Thy crazed title to my certaine right.

Lyf. You have her fathers love, Demetrius:
Let me have Hermiaes; do you marry him.

Egeus. Scornfull Lyfander, true, he hath my Love;
And what is mine, my love shall render him.
And she is mine, and all my right of her,
I do eftale vnto Demetrius.

Lyf. I am my Lord, as well deriv'd as he,
As well poffeffed: my love is more then his:
My fortunes every way as fairely ranck'
(If not with vantage) as Demetrius :

And (which is more then all thefe boafts can be)
I am belov'd of beauteous Hermia.

Why should not I then procure my right?

Demetrius, Ile anough it to his head,
Made love to N edars daughter, Helena,
And won her fouleand ſhe (weet Lady) dotes,
Devoutly dotes, dotes in Idolatry,
Vpon this spotted and inconſtant man.

The. I muſt confefſe, that I have heard ſo much,
And with Demetrius thought to have spoke thereof:
But being over-full of ſelſe affaires,
My minde did lobe it. But Demetrius come,
And come Egeus, you ſhall go with me,
I have ſome private ſchooling for you both.

For you faire Hermia, looke you arme your ſelſe,
To fit your fancies to your Fathers will;
Or else the Law of Athens yeelds you vp
(Which by no meanes we may extenuate)
To death, or to a vow of ſingle life.

Come my Hippolita, what cheare my love?

Demetrius and Egeus go along:

I muſt imploy you in ſome buſineſſe
Aſtainſt our nuptialls, and conferre with you
Of ſomething, neerely that concernes your ſelves.

Ege. With dutie and defire we follow you.

Manet Lyfander and Hermia.

Lyf. How now my love? Why is your cheek ſo pale?
How chance the Rofes there do fade ſo ſalt?

Her. Belike for want of raine, which I could well
Beteeme them, from the tempeſt of mine eyes.

Lyf. Hermia for ought that ever I could reade,
Could ever heare by tale or hiftory,
The courſe of true love never did run ſmooth,
But either it was different in blood.

Her. O croſſel too high to be enthral'd to love.

Lyf. Or else miſgraſſed, in reſpect of yeares.

Her. O ſpight! too old to be ingag'd to yong.

Lyf. Or else it ſtood upon the choife of merit.

Her. O hell! I to choose love by anothers eye.

Lyf. Or if there were a ſimpathie in choife,

Warre, death, or ſickneſſe, did lay ſiege to it;
Making it momentarie, as a found:

Swift as a shadow, ſhort as any dreame,
Briefe as the lightning in the collied night,
That (in a ſpleene) ynfoldes both heaven and earth;
And ere a man hath power to ſay, hehold,
The jawes of darkneſſe do devoure it up:
So quicke bright things come to conſufion.

Her. If then true Lovers have beene ever croſt,
It stands as an edict in deſtinity:
Then let us teach our triall patience,
Because it is a customary croſſe,
As due to love, as thoughts, and dreames, and ſighes,
Wifhes and teares; poore Fancies followers.

Lyf. A good perſuafion; therefore heare me Hermia,
I have a Widdow Aunt, a dowager,
Of great revennew, and ſhe hath no childe,
From Athens is her houſe remov'd ſeven leagues,
And the reſpects me, as her onely ſonne:
There gentle Hermia, may I marry thee,
And to that place, the sharpe Athenian Law
Cannot purſue us. If thou lov'ſt me then
Steale forth thy fathers houſe to morrow night:
And in the wood, a league without the towne,
(Where I did meete thee once with Helena,
To do obſervance for a morne of May.)

There will I lay for thee.

Her. My good Lyfander,
I ſware to thee, by Cupids ſtrongeſt bow,
By his beſt arrow with the golden head,
By the simplicity of Venus Doves,
By that which knitteth foules, and proſpers love,
And by that fire which burn'd the Carthage Queene,
When the false Troyan vnder ſae was ſene,
By all the vowes 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 meete with thee.

Lyf. Keepe promife love; looke here comes Helena.

Enter Helena.

Her. God ſpeede faire Helena, whither away?
Hel. Cal you me faire ? that faire againe unfay,
Demetrius loves you faire: O happy faire!
Your eyes are loadſtarres, and your tongues ſweet ayre
More tunectable then Larke to ſhepheards eare,
When wheate is greene, when hauthourne buds appeare,
Sickneſſe is catching: O were favour ſo,
Your words Ide catch, faire Hermia ere I go,
My eare should catch your voice, my eye, your eye,
My tongue should catch your tongues ſweet melodie,
Were the world mine, Demetrius being bated,
The reſt I legive to be to you tranſlated.
O teach me how you looke, and with what art
You (way the motion of Demetrius) hart.

Her. I frowne upon him, yet he loves me ſtill.

Hel. O that your frownes would teach my ſimiles
fuch skil.

Her. I give him curſes, yet he gives me love.

Hel. O that my prayers could fuch affection moove.

Her. The more I hate the more he followes me.

Hel. The more I love, the more he hateth me.

Her. His folly Helena is none of mine.

Hel. None but your beauty, wold that fault were mine

Her. Take comfort: he no more ſhall fee my face,

Lyfander and my ſelfe will flie this place.

Before the time I did Lyfander fee,
Seem'd Athens like a Paradife to mee.

0

A Midsummer nights Dreame.

O then, what graces in my Love do dwell,
That he hath turn'd a heaven into hell?

Lyf. Helen, to you our mindes we will vnfold,
To morrow night, when Phæbe doth behold
Her filver village, in the watry glaſſe,
Decking with liquid pearle, the bladed graſſe
(A time that Lovers flights doth ſtill conceale)
Through Athens gates, have we devis'd to ſteale.
Her. And in the wood, where often you and I,
Vpon faint Primrole beds, were wont to lye,
Emptying our boſomes, of their counſell ſweld:
There my Lysander, and my ſelfe shall meete,
And thence from Athens turne away our eyes
To feele new friends and ſtrange companions,
Farewell ſweeat play-fellow, pray thou for us,
And good lucke grant thee thy Demetrius.
Keepe word Lysander we muſt starve our fight,
From lovers foode, till morrow deepe midnight.

Exit Hermia.
Lyf. I will my Hermia, Helena adieu,
As you on him, Demetrius dotes on you. Exit Lysander.

Hel. How happy home, ore otherhome can be?
Through Athens I am thought as faire as ſhe.
But what of that? Demetrius thinkes not to:
He will not know, what all, but he doth know,
And as he erres, doting on Hermias eyes;
So I, admiring of his qualities:
Things bafe and vilde, holding no quantity,
Love can tranſpofe to forme and dignity,
Love looks not with the eyes, but with the minde,
And therefore is wing'd Cupid painted blinde.
Nor hath loves minde of any judgement taſte:
Wings and no eyes, figure, vnheedy haſte.
And therefore is Love faid to be a childe,
Because in choife he often is beguil'd,
As waggifh boyes in game themſelves forſware;
So the boy Love is perjui'd every where.
For ere Demetrius lookt on Hermias eyne,
He haild downe oathes that he was only mine.
And when this Haile home heat from Hermia felt,
So he diffolv'd, and ſhowres of oathes did melt.
I will go tell him of faire Hermias flight:
Then to the wood will he, to morrow night,
Purſue her; and for his intelligence,
If I have thankes, it is a deere expence:
But heerein meane I to enrich my paine,
To have his fight thither, and backe againe. Exit.

Enter Quince the Carpenter, Snug the Ioyner, Bottome the Weaver, Flute the bellowes-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 ſerewle of every man's name, which is thought fit through all Athens, to play in our Enterlude before the Duke and the Dutches, on his wedding day at night.

Bot. First, good Peter Quince, lay what the play treats on: then reade the names of the Actors: and I go grow on to a point.

Qu. Marry our play is the moſt lamentable Comedy; and moſt cruell death of Pyramus and Thisbie.

Bot. A very good piece of worke. I affure you, and a

merry. Now good Peter Quince, call forth your Actors
by the ſerowle. Maifters ſpread your ſelves.

Quince. Anſwere as I call you. Nick Bottome the Weaver.

Bottome. Ready; name what part I am for, and proceed.

Quince. You Nicke Bottome are ſet down for Pyramus.

Bot. What is Pyramus, a lover, or a tyrant?

Quince. A Lover that kills himſelfe moſt gallantly for love.

Bot. That will aske ſome teares in the true perfor-
ming of it: if I do it, let the audience looke to their eies.
I will moove ſtormes; I will condole in ſome meaſure.
To the reſt yet, my chieſe humour is for a tyrant. I could
play ſcenes rarely, or a part to teare a Cat in, to make all
iſplit the raging Rocks; and ſhivering ſhocks ſhall breake
the locks of prifon gates, and Fhibbus carre ſhall ſhine
from farre, and make and marre the foolish Fates. This
was lofty. Now name the reſt of the Players. This
is ſcenes veine, a tyrants veine: a lover is more condo-
ling.

Quin. Francis Flute the bellowes-mender.

Flu. Heere Peter Quince.

Qu. You muſt take Thisbie on you.

Flu. What is Thisbie, a wandring Knight?

Qu. It is the Lady that Pyramus muſt love.

Flu. Nay faith, let not mee play a woman, I have a
beard comming.

Qu. That's all one, you ſhall play it in a Maske, and you
may ſpeake as ſmall as you will.

Bot. And I may hide my face, let me play Thisbie too:
Ile ſpeake in a monſtrous little voyce; Thisibie Thisbie, ah
Pyramus my lover deare, thy Thisbie deare; and Lady
deare.

Quin. No no, you muſt play Pyramus, and Flute, you Thisby.

Bot. Well, proceed.

Qu. Robin Starveling the Taylor.

Star. Heere Peter Quince.

Quince. Robin Starveling, you muſt play Thisbie mo-
ther?

Tom Snowt, the tinker.

Snowt. Heere Peer Quince.

Qu. You Pyramus father; my ſelfe, Thisbies father;
Smugg'e the Ioyner, 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 ſtudie.

Qu. You may do it extempore, for it is nothing but
roaring.

Bot. Let mee play the Lyon too, I will roare that I
will doe any mans heart good to heare me. I will roare,
that I will make the Duke ſay, Let him roare againe, let
him roare againe.

Qu. If you ſhould doe it too terribly, you would
fright the Dutchefle and the Ladies, that they would
fhrike, and that were enough to hang us all.

All. That would hang us every ſ mothers ſonne.

Bottome. I graunt you friends, if that you ſhould
fright the Ladies out of their Wittes, they would
have no more diſetration 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 twere any Night-
ingale.

Quince. You can play no part but Pyramus, for Pyra-
nus

A Midsummer nights Dreame.

mee is a sweet-fac'd man, a proper man as one shall fee in
a funmers day; a moft lovely Gentleman-like man, ther-
fore you muft needs play Piramus.

Bot. Well, I will vndertake it. What beard were I beft
to play it in?

Quin. Why, what you will.

Bot. I will difcharge it, in either your ftraw-colour
beard, your orange tawnie beard, your purple in graine
beard, or your French-crowne colour'd beard, your per-
fect yellow.

Quin. Some of your French-Crownes have no haire
at all, and then you will play bare-fac'd. But maifters here
are your paits, and I am to intreat you, requeft you, and
defire you, to con them by to morrow night; and meet
me in the palace wood, a mile without the Towne, by
Moone-light, there we will rehearfe: for if we meete in
the Citie, we ſhalbe dog'd with company, and our deu-
fes knowne. In the meane time, I will draw a bil of pro-
PERTIES,

Bot. We will meete, and there we may rehearſe more
obſcenely and couragiously. Take paine, be perfect, a-
dieu.

Bot. Iohn. At the Dukes oake we meete.
Quin. Enough, hold or cut bow-ftrings.

Bot. Enough, hold or cut bow-ftrings.

Exeunt.

Actus Secundus.

Enter a Fairie at one doore, and Robin good-
fellow at another.

Rob. How now ſpirit, whither wander you?

Fai. Over hill, over dale, through bush, through briar,
Over parke, over pale, through flood, through fire,
I do wander every where, ſwifter then the Moons sphere;
And I serve the Fairy Queene, to dew her orbs upon the
The Cowflips tall, her pensioners be,
(green-
In their gold coats, fotts you fee,
Thofe be Rubies, faire favors,
In thofe freckles, live their favors,
I muſt go feeke fome dew drops heere,
And hang a pearle in every cowflip's care.
Farewell thou Lob of ſpirits, Ile be gon,
Our Queencand all her Elues come heere anon.

Rob. The King doth keepe his Revels here to night,
Take heed the Queene come not within his fight,
For Oberon is paising fell and wrath,
Because that he, as her attendant, hath
A lovely boy ſtolne from an Indian King,
She never had ſo sweet a changeling,
And jealous Oberon would have the childe
Knight of his traine, to trace the Forrefts wilde.
But ſhe (per force) with-holds the loved boy,
Crownes him with flowers, and makes him all her joy.
And now they never meete in grove, or greene,
By fountaine cleere, or ſpangled ſtar-light ſheene,
But they do ſquare, that all their Elues for ſeare
Creep into Acorne cups and hide them there.

Fai. Either I miftake your ſhape and making quite,
Or elfe you are that ſhrew'd and knavish ſpirit
Cal'd Robin Good-fellow. Are you not hee,
That frights the maidens of the Villagree,
Skim milke, and fometimes labour in the querne,
And bootleſſe make the breatherleſſe hufwife cherne,
And fometime make the drinke to beare no barme,

Mifleade night-wanderers, laughing at their harme,
Thofe that Hobgoblin call you, and ſweet Pucke,
You do their worke, and they ſhall have good lucke.
Are not you he?

Rob. Thou ſpeak'st it aright;
I am that merrie wanderer of the night;
I left to Oberon, and make him ſmile,
When I a fat and beane-fed horſe beguile,
Neighing in likeneſſe of a filly foale,
And fometime lurke I in a Goſſips bole,
In very likeneſſe of a roaſted crab:
And when ſhe drinkes, againſt her lips I bob,
And on her witherred dewlop poure the Ale.
The wifſet Aunt telling the laddeſt tale,
Sometime for three-foot ſtoole, miftaketh me,
Then flip I from her bum, downe topples ſhe,
And tailour cries, and fals into a coſſe.
And then the whole quire hold their hips, and loſſe,
And waxen in their mirth, and neeze, and ſweare,
A merrier houre was never waſtred there.
But roome Fairy, heere comes Oberon.

Fai. And heere my Miftris:
Would that we were gone.

Enter the King of Fairies at one doore with his traine,
and the Queene at another with hers.

Ob. Ill met by Moone-light,
Proud Tytania.

Qu. What, jealous Oberon? Fairy skip hence.
I have forſworne his bed and company.

Ob. Tarrie rath Wanton, am not I thy Lord?

Qu. Then I muſt be thy Lady; but I know
When thou waſt ſtolne away from Fairy Land,
And in the ſhape of Corinſtate all day,
Playing on pipes of Corne, and vering love
To amourOUS Phyllida. Why art thou here
Come from the fartheſt ſteepe of India?
But that forſooth the bouncing Amazon
Your buskin'd Mifſtreſe, and your Warrior love,
To Theſeuſ muſt be Wedded, and you come,
To give their bed joy and prosperity.

Ob. How canſt thou thus for ſhame Tytania,
Glance at my credite, with Hippolita?
Knowing I know thy love to Theſeuſ?
Didſt thou not leade him through the glimmering night?
From Peregeſis, whom he ravified?
And make him with faire Eagles breake his faith
With Ariadne, and Antiope.
Ob. There are the forſergers of jealousy,
And never ſince the middle Summers ſpring
Met we on hill, in dale, forſeſt, or mead,
By paved fountaine, or by rufhie brooke,
Or in the beached margent of the ſea,
To dance our ringlets to the whiffling Winde,
But with thy braules thou haſt diſturb'd our ſport.
Therefore the Windes, piping to vs in vaine,
As in revenge, have fuck'd up from the ſea
Contagious fogges: Which falling in the Land,
Hath every petty River made ſo proud,
That they have over-borne their Continents.
The Oxe hath therefore ſtretch'd his yoke in vaine,
The Ploughman loft his ſweat, and the greene Corne
Hath rotted, ere his youth attain'd a beard:
The fold it stands empty in the drowned field,
And Crowes are fatted with the murrion flocke,

A Midsummer nights Dreame.

149

The nine mens Morris is fild up with mud,
And the quint Mazes in the wanton greene,
For lacke of tread are undiftinguifiable.
The humane mortals want their winter heere,
No night is now with hymne or caroll bleft;
Therefore the Moone(the governefle of floods)
Pale in her anger, wathes all the air;
That Rheumaticke difeates do abound.
And thorough this diftemperature, we fee
The feafons alter; hoared-headed frofts
Fall in the fresh lap of the crimon Rofe,
And on old Hyems chinne and Icie crowne,
An odorous Chaplet of sweet Sommer buds
Isas in mockry fet. The spring, the Sommer,
The childing Autumnne, angry Winter change
Their wonted Liveries, and the mazed world,
By their increafe, now knowes not which is which;
And this fame progeny of evills comes
From our debate, from our diffention,
We are their parents and originall.

Ob. Do you amend it then, it lies in you,
Why should Titania croe her Obregon?
I do but beg a little changeling boy,
To be my Henchman.

Qu. Set your heart at reft,
The Fairy land buyes not the child of me.
His mother was a Votreſle of my Order,
And in the ſpiced Indian aire, by night
Full often hath ſhe goſipt by my ſide,
And fat with me on Neptunes yellow lands,
Marking th'embarked traders on the flood,
When we have taught to fee the ſafles conceive,
And grow big bellied with the wanton winde:
Which ſhe with pretty and with ſwimming gate,
Following ( her wombe then rich with my yong ſquire)
Would imitate, and faile upon the Land,
To fetch me tr trifles, and returne againe;
As from a voyage, rich with merchandize.
But ſhe being mortall of that boy did dye,
And for her ſake I do reare up her boy,
And for her ſake I will not part with him.

Ob. How long within this wood intend you ſtay?
Qu. Perchance till after The ſeus wedding day.

If you will patiently dance in our Round,
And fee our Moone-light reverts; go with us;
If not, then 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 downe right, if I longer ſtay.

Ob. Well, go thy way: thou ſhalt not from this grove,
Till I torment thee for this injury.
My gentle Pucke come hither; thou remembrest
Since I fat upon a promontory,
And heard a Meare-maide on a Dolphins backe,
Vttering fuch dulcet and harmonious breath,
That the rude ſea grew civill at her ſong,
And certaine ſtarres ſhot madly from their Spheares,
To heare the Sea-maids muſicke.

Pu. I remember.

Ob. That very time I fay (but thou couldſt not)
Flying betweene the cold Moone and the earth,
Cupid all arm'd; a certaine aime he tooke
At a faire Veltall, throned by the Weſt,
And loos'd his love-ſaft ſimartly from his bow,
As it ſhould pierce a hundred thouſand hearts,
But I might fee young Cupids fiery ſaft

Quencht in the chaſte beames of the watry Moone,
And the imperiall Votreſle paſſed on,
In maiden meditation, fancy-free.
Yet markt I where the bolt of Cupid fell.
It fell upon a little weſterne flower:
Before, milke-white: now purple with loves wound,
And maidens call it, Love in idlenefle.
Fetch me that flower; the hearb I ſhew'd thee once,
The juyce of it, on ſleeping eye-lids laid,
Will make or man or woman madly dore
Vpon the next live creature that it fees.
Fetch me this hearbe, and be thou heere againe,
Ere the Leviathan can ſwim a league.

Pu. Ile put a girdle about the earth, in forty minutes.
Exit.

Ob. Having once this juyce,
Ile watch Titania, when ſhe is alleepe,
And drop the liquor of it in her eyes:
The next thing when ſhe waking looks upon,
(Be it on Lyon, Beare, or Wolfe; or Bull,
On medling Monkey, or on bufie Ape)
Shee ſhall purſue it, with the foule of love.
And ere I take this charme off from her fight,
(As I can take it with another hearbe)
Ile make her render up her Page to me.
But who comes here? I am invifible,
And I will over-heare their conference.

Enter Demetrius, Helena following him.

Dem. I love thee not; therefore purſue me not,
Where is Lysander, and faire Hermia?
The one I ſtay, the other ſtayeth me.
Thou toldſt me they were ſtolne into this wood;
And heere am I, and wood within this wood,
Because I cannot meet my Hermia.
Hence get thee 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 ſteele. Leave you your power to draw,
And I ſhall have no power to follow you.

Dem. Do I entice you? do I ſpeake you faire?
Or rather do I not in plainest 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 fawne on you.
Vſe me but as your ſpaniell; ſpurne me, Itrike me,
Neglect me, loſe me; onely give me leaue
(Vnworthy as I am) to follow you.
What worſer place can I beg in your love,
(And yet a place of high reſpect with me)
Then to be ſfed as you do your dogge?

Dem. Tempt not too much the hatred of my ſpirit,
For I am ſicke when I do looke on thee.

Hel. And I am ſicke when I looke not on you.

Dem. You doe impeach your modeſty too much,
To leave the Citty, and commit your ſelfe
Into the hands of one that loves you not,
To truſt the opportunity of night,
And the ill counſell of a deſert place,
With the rich worth of your virginity.

Hel. Your vertue is my privilege: for that
It is not night when I doe ſee your face.
Therefore I thinke I am not in the night,
Nor doth this wood lacke worlds of company,

N 3

For

A Midsummer nights Dreame.

For you in my respect are all the world.

Then how can it be said I am alone,

When all the world is heere to looke on me?

Dem. Ie run from thee,and hide me in the brakes,
And leave thee to the mercy of wilde beafts.

Hel. The wildest hath not such a heart as you;
Runne when you will,the story shall be chang'd:
Apollo flies,and Daphne holds the chafe;

The Dove purfues the Griffin,the milde Hinde
Makes speed to catch the Tyger. Bootleſe ſpeede,
When cowardife purflues,and valour flies.

Dem. I will not flay thy queftions, let me go;
Or if thou follow me, do not beleeve,
But I ſhall do thee miſchieſe in the wood.

Hel. I, in the Temple, in the Towne,and Field
You do me miſchieſe. Fye Demetritus,
Your wrongs do fet a ſcandall on my ſexe:
We cannot fight for love, as men may do;
We should be woo'd, and were not made to wooe.
I follow thee,and make a heaven of hell,
To die upon the hand I love ſo well.

Exit.

Ob. Fare thee well Nymph,ere he do leave this grove,
Thou ſhalt fly him, and he ſhall ſeeke thy love.
Haſt thou the flower there? Welcome wanderer.

Enter Pucke.

Pu. I, there it is.

Ob. I pray thee give it me.

I know a banke where the wilde time blowes,
Where Oxlips and the nodding Violet growes,
Quite over-cannoped with lucious woodbine,
With sweet muske roſes,and with Eglantine,
There fleepes Tyania, sometime of the night,
Lul'd in theſe flowers,with dances and delight:
And there the ſnake throwes her enmel'm'd skinne,
Weed wide enough to wrap a Fairy in.

And with the juyce of this Ile ſtreake her eyes,
And make her full of hatefull fantafics.

Take thou ſome of it, and feeke through this grove;
A sweet Athenian Lady is in love

With a diſdainefull youth: annoint his eyes,
But do it when the next thing he eſpies,
May be the Lady. Thou ſhalt know the man,
By the Athenian garments he hath on.

Effect it with ſome care, that he may prove
More fond on her, then ſhe upon her love;
And looke thou meet me ere the firſt Cocke crow.

Pu. Feare not my Lord,your ſervant ſhall do ſo. Exit.

Enter Queene of Fairies, with her traine.

Qa. Come, now a Roundell, and a Fairy ſong:
Then for the third part of a minute hence,
Some to kill Cankers in the muske roſe buds,
Some warre with Reremile, for their leathern wings,
To make my ſmall Elves coates, and ſome keepe backe
The clamorous Owle that nightly hoots and wonders
At our queint ſpirits: Sing me now aſl eepe,
Then to your offices, and let me reſt.

Fairies Sing.

You Spotted Snakes with double tongue,
Thorny Hedgehogges be not ſeeue,
News and binde wormes do no wrong,
Come not neere our Fairy Queene.
Philemele with melodie,

Sing in your sweet Lullaby,

Lulla, lulla, lullaby, lulla, lulla, lullaby:
Never harme, nor ſpelf, nor charme,
Come our lovely Lady nee,
So good night with Lullaby.

2. Fairy. Weaving Spiders come not heere,

Hence you long leg'd Spinners, hence:

Beetles blacke approach not neere:
Worme nor Snayle do no offence.

Philemele with melodie, &c.

1. Fairy. Hence away, now all is well:

One aloof, ſt and Centinell,

Shee ſleep.

Enter Oberon.

Ob. What thou ſeelt when thou doſt wake,
Do it for thy true Love take:

Love and languifh for his ſake.

Be it Ounce, or Catte, or Beare,

Pard, or Boare with briftled haire,

In thy eye that ſhall appeare,

When thou wak'ſt, it is thy deare,

Wake when ſome vile thing is neere.

Enter Lysander and Hermia.

Lif. Faire love, you faint with wandring in the woods
And to ſpake troth, I have forgot our way:
Wee'll reſt us Hermia, if you thinke it good,
And tarry for the comfort of the day.

Her. Be it ſo Lysander: finde you out a bed,
For I upon this banke will reſt my head.

Lyl. One turſe ſhall ſerve as pillow for us both,
One heart, one bed, two boſomes; and one troth.

Her. Nay good Lysander, for my ſake my deere
Lie further off yet, do not lie ſo neere.

Lyl. O take the fence, ſweet, of my innocence,
Love takes the meaning, in loves conference,
I meane that my heart unto yours is knit,
So that but one heart can you make of it.

Two boſomes interchanged with an oath,
So then two boſomes, and a ſingle troth.

Then by your ſide, no bed-roome me deny,
For lying ſo, Hermia, I do not lye.

Her. Lysander riddles very prettily:
Now much beſhrew my manners, and my pride,
If Hermia meant to ſay, Lysander lied.

But gentle friend, for love and courteſe

Lie further off, in humane modeſt,
Such ſeparation, as may well be ſaid,
Becomes a vertuous batchelour, and a maide,

So farre be diſtant, and good right: ſweet friend:

Thy love ne're alter, till thy ſweet life end.

Lyl. Amen, amen, to that faire prayer, ſay I,
And then end life, when I end loyalty:
Heere is my bed, ſleepe give thee all his reſt.

Her. With half that with the wifhes eyes be preſt.
Lysander riddles very prettily.

Enter Pucke.

They ſleep.

Pu. Through the Forreſt have I gone,
But Athenian finde I none,

On whose eyes I might approve

This flowers force in flitting love.

Night and ſilence: who is heere?

Weedes of Athens he doth wear:

This is he (my maifter ſaid)

Deſpifed the Athenian maide:

And heere the maiden ſleeping ſound,

On

A Midsummer nights Dreame.

On the danke and darty ground.
Pretty foule, the durst not lye
Neere this lacke-love, this kill-curteie.
Churle, upon thy eyes I throw
All the power this charme doth owe:
When thou wak'st, let love forbid
Sleepe his feate on thy eye-lid.
So awake when I am gone:
For I muft now to Oberon.

Exit.

Enter Demetrius and Helenarunning

Hel. Say, though thou kill me, sweete Demetrius.
De. I charge thee hence, and do not haunt me thus.
Hel. O wilt thou darkling leave me do not fo.
De. Stay on thy perill, I alone will go.

Exit Demetrius.

Hel. O I am out of breath, in this fond chace,
The more my prayer, the lefter is my grace,
Happy is Hermia, wherefore she lies:
For she hath blessed and attractive eyes.
How came her eyes so bright? Not with salt teares.
If so, my eyes are oftner waft then hers.

No, no, I am as ugly as a Beare:
For beafts that meete me, runne away for feare,
Therefore no mavaile, though Demetrius
Do as a monfter, fly my prefence thus,
What wicked and dilembling glaue of mine,
Made me compare with Hermias sphery cyne?
But who is here? Lyfander on the ground?
Deade or aſſleepe? I fee no bloud, no wound,
Lyſaſſer, if you live, good fir awake.

Lyſ. And run through fire I will for thy sweet ſake.
Transparent Helena, nature here ſhews art,
That through thy boſome makes me fee thy heart.
Where Demetrius ? oh how fit a word
Is that vile name, to perſih on my ſword!

Hel. Do not ſay to Lyſander, ſay not ſo:
What though he love your Hermias? Lord, what though?
Yet Hermia still loves you, then be content.

Lyſ. Content with Hermias? No, I do repent
The tedious minutes I with her have ſpent.
Not Hermias, but Helena now I love:
Who will not change a Raven for a Dove?
The will of man is by his reaſon ſway'd:
And reaſon fayes you are the worthier Maide.
Things growing are not ripe untill their ſeaſons
So I being young, till now ripe not to reaſon,
And touching now the point of humane skill,
Reaſon becomes the Marſhali to my will,
And leades me to your eyes, where I orelooke
Loves ſtories, written in Loves richeſt booke.

Hel. Wherefore was I to this keene mockery borne?
When at your hands did I deferve this ſcorne?
If not enough, ift not enough, yong man,
That I did never, no nor nevcr can,
Deſerve a ſweete looke from Demetrius eye,
But you muſt flout my inſuſiciency?

Good troth you do me wrong (good-footh you do)
In ſuch diſdainfull manner, me to wooe.

But fare you well: perſorce I muſt conſeſſe,
I thought you Lord of more true gentlenelſe,
Oh, that a Lady of one man refus'd,
Should of another therefore be abus'd.

Exit.

Lyſ. She fees not Hermias: Hermias ſleepeth thou there,
And never maſt thou come Lyſander neere:

For as a furſeit of the ſweeteſt things
The deepeſt loathing to a ſtomacke brings:
Or as the hereſies that men do leave,
Are hated moſt of thate that did deceive:
So thou, my ſurſeit, and my hereſie,
Of all be hated: but the moſt of me,
And all my powers addreſſe your love and might,
To honour Helen, and to be her Knight.

Exit.

Her. Helpe me Lyſander, helpe me, do thy beſt
To plucke this crawling ſerpent from my breſt.
Aye me, for pitty, what a dreame was here?
Lyſaſſer, looke, how I do quake with feare:
Me thought a ſerpent eate my heart away,
And yet ſate ſmilling at his cruell prey.
Lyſaſſer, what remov'd? Lyſaſſer, Lord,
What, out of hearing, gone? No found, no word?
Alacke where are you? I ſpeake and if you heare:
Speake of all loves: I ſwound almost with feare.
No, then I well perſeive you are not nye,
Either death or you Ile finde immediately.

Exit

Actus Tertius.

Enter the Clowne.

Bot. Are we all met?

Quin. Par, pat, and here's a marvailous convenient
place for our rehearſall. This greene plot shall bee our
ſtage, this hauθorne brake our tying houſe, and we will
doit in action, as we will do it before the Duke.

Quot. Peter Quince?

Peter. What ſaſt thou, bully Bottome?

Bot. There are things in this Comedye of Piramus and
Thisby, that will never pleafe. Firſt, Piramus muſt draw a
ſword to kill himſelfe : which the Ladies cannot abide.
How anſwere you that?

Snout. Berlaken, a parlous feare.

Star. I believe we muſt leave the killing out, when all
is done.

Bottome. Not a whit, I have a device to make all well.
Write me a Prologue, and let the Prologue ſeeme to ſay,
we will do no harme with our ſwords, and that Pyramus
is not kill'd indeede : and for the more better affurance,
tell them, that I Piramus am not Piramus, but Bottome the
Weaver; this will put them out of ſeare.

Qu. Well, we will have ſuch a Prologue, and it ſhall be
writtten in eight and ſixe.

Bot. No, make it two more, let it be written in eight
and eight.

Snout. Will not the Ladies be aſſa'd of the Lyon?

Star. I ſeafe it, I promife you.

Bot. Maifters, you ought to confider with your ſelves,
to bring in (God ſhield us) a Lyon among Ladies, is a moſt
dreadfull thing. For there is not a more ſearefull wilde
foule then your Lyon living : and wee ought to looke
to it.

Snout. Therefore another Prologue muſt tell hee is not
a Lyon.

Bot. Nay, you muſt name his name, and halſe his ſace
muſt be ſeene through the Lyons necke, and he himſelfe
muſt ſpeake through, ſaying thus, or to the fame defect:
Ladies, or faire Ladies, I would with you, or I would
requeft

A Midsummer nights Dreame.

requeft you,or I would entreat you, not to feare, not to tremble: my life for yours. If you thinke I come hither as a Lyon, it were pitty 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 hee is Snug the joyner.

Quince. Well, it shall be so; but there is two hard things, that is, to bring the Moone-light into a chamber: for you know, Piramus and Thisby meete by Moone-light.

Snug. Doth the Moone fhine that night wee play our play?

Bot. A Calender, a Calender, looke in the Almanack, finde out Moone-fhine, finde out Moone-fhine.

Enter Pucke.

Quin. Yes, it doth fhine that night.

Bot. Why then may you leave a cafement of the great chamber window (where we play) open, and the Moone may fhine in at the cafement.

Qu. I, or dſe one muſt come in with a buſh of thorns and a lanthorne, and ſay he co nes to disfigure, or to preſent the perſon of Moone-fhine. Then there is another thing, we muſt have a wall in the great Chamber; for Piramus and Thisbie (faics the ſtory) did talke through the chincke of a wall.

Snu. You can never bring in a wall. What ſay you Bottome?

Bot. Some man or other muſt prefent wall, and let him have ſome. Plafter, or ſome Lome, or ſome rough caſt about him, to ſignifie wall; or let him hold his fingers thus; and through that cranny, ſhall Pyramus, and Thisby Whiffer.

Qu. If that may be, then all is well. Come, fit downe every mothers ſonne, and rehearſe your parts. Pyramus, you begin; when you have ſpoken your ſpeech, er into that Brake, and ſo every one according to his cue.

Enter Robin.

Rob. What hempen home-ſpuns have we faggering here,

So neere the Cradle of the Faiery Queene?

What, a Play toward? He be an auditor:

An Aſtor too perhaps, if I fee caufe.

Qu. ſpeake Pyramus: Thisby ſtand forth.

Pir. Thisby, the flowers of odious favors ſweete.

Qu. Odours, odours.

Pir. Odours favors ſweete,

So hath thy breath, my dearett Thisby deare.

But harke, avoyce: it ay thou but here a while,

And by and by I will to thee appeare.

Exit. Pir.

Fu. A ftranger Pyramus, then ere plaid here.

Thisby. Muſt I ſpake now?

Pet. I marry muſt you. For you muſt vnderſand he goes but to fee a noife that he heard, and is to come againe.

This. Moſt radiant Piramus, moſt Lilly white of hue, Of colour like the red roſe on triumphant bryer, Moſt brisky Juuenall, and eke moſt lovely Iew, A true as trueſt horſe, that yet would never ſtyre, Ile meete thee Piramus, at Nimies toombe.

Pet. Ninus toombe man: why, you muſt not ſpeake that yet; that you anſwere to Piramus: you ſpeake all your part at once, cues and all. Piramus enter, your cue is paſt; it is never ſtyre.

Thisby. O, as true as trueſt horſe, that yet would never ſtyre:

Pir. If I were faire, Thisby I were only thine.

Pet. O monſtrous. O ſtrange. We are hanted; pray maſters, flye maſters, helpe.

The Clowns all Exemn.

Pu. Ile follow you, Ile leade you about a Round, Through bogge, through buſh, through brake, through Some time a horſe Ile be, sometime a hound: (bryer, A hogge, a headleſſe Beare, sometime a fire, And neigh, and barke, and grunt, and rore, and burne, Like horſe, hound, hog, Beare, fire, at every turne. Exit.

Enter Piramus with the Aſſe head.

Bot. Why do they run away? This is a knavery of them to make me afeard. Enter Snowt.

Bot. O Bottome, thou art chang'd; What do I fee on thee?

Bot. What do you fee? You fee an Aſſe-head of your owne, do you?

Enter Peter Quince.

Pet. Blesſe thee Bottome, blesſe thee; thou art translated.

Exit.

Bot. I fee their knavery; this is to make an aſſe of me, to fright me if they Could; but I will not ſtirre from this place, do what they can. I will wake up and downe here, and I will ſing that they ſhall heare. I am not afraid. The Woofell cocke, ſo blacke of hew,

W ith Orenge-tawny bill.

The Throſſle, with his note ſo true,

The Wren and little quill.

Tita. What Angell wakes me from my flowry bed?

Bot. The Finch, the Sparrow, and the Larke,

The plainſong Cuckow gray;

Whole note full many a man doth marke,

And dares not anſwere, nay.

For indeed, who would fet his wit to ſo foolish a bird?

Who would give a bird the lye, though he cry Cuckow, never ſo?

Tita. I pray thee gentle mortall, ſing againe, Mine eare is much enamored of thy note;

On the firſt view to ſay, to ſweare I love thee.

So is mine eye enthralled to thy ſhape.

And thy faire vertues force (perſorce) doth move me.

Bot. Me-thinkes maſſtrele, you ſhould have little reaſon for that: and yet to ſay the truth, reaſon and love keepe little company together, now-adayes. The more the pitty, that ſome honelt neighbours will not mak them friends. Nay, I can gieekc upon occaſion.

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 owne turne.

Tyta. Out of this wood, do not define to go, Thou ſhalt remaine here, w hether thou wilt or no. I am a ſpirit of no common rate: The Summer ſtill doth tend upon my ſtate, And I do love thee; therefore go with me, Ile give thee Fairies to attend on thee; And they ſhall fetch thee Iewels from the deepe; And ſing, while thou on prefed flowers doſt ſleepe; And I will purge thy mortall groſſenefſe, That Thou ſhalt like an aſky ſpirit go.

Enter Peaſe-bloſſome, Cobwed, Moth, Mustard-seede, and ſoure Fairies.

Fai. Ready; and I, and I, and I, Where ſhall we go? Tita, Be

A Midsummer nights Dreame.

151

Tita. Be kind and curteous to this Gentleman.
Hop in his walkes,and gambole in his eies,
Feede him with Apricocks,and Dewberries,
With purple Grapes,greene Figs,and Mulberries,
The honie-bags steale from the humble Bees,
And for night-tapers crop their waxen thighes,
And light them at the fierie-Glow-wormes eyes,
To have my love to bed, and to arife:
And pluke the wings from painted Butterflies,
To fan the Moone-beames from his sleeping eies.
Nod to him Elues, and do him curtesies.

1. Fai. Haile mortall,haile.

2. Fai. Haile.

3. Fai. Haile.

Bot. I cry your worships mercy hartily; I befeech your
worships name.

Cab. Cobwed.

Bot. I shall desire you of more acquaintance, good
Maifter Cobwed: if I cut my finger, I shall make bold with
you.

Your name honest Gentleman?

Peaf. Peaf blofomse.

Bot. I pray you commend mee to miſtreſſe Squaff,
your mother, and to maifter Peafcod your father. Good
maifter Peaſ-bloſom, I shall desire of you more acquain-
tance too. Your name I beſeech you fir?

Aneſ. Muffard ſeede.

Bot. Good maifter Muffard ſeede, I know your pati-
ence well; that fame cowardly gyant-like Oxe-beeſe hath
devoured many a gentleman of your houſe. I promife
you, your kindred hath made my eyes water ere now. I
defire you more acquaintance, good Maifter Muffard-
ſeede.

Tita. Come waite upon him, lead him to my bower.
The Moone me-thinks, looks upon a watrie eie,
And when ſhe weepes, weepe every little flower,
Lamenting ſome enforced chattity.

Tye up my lovers tongue, bring him filently.
Exit.

Enter King of Fairies, ſolus.

Ob. I wonder if Titania be awake;
Then what it was that next came in her eye,
Which the mult dot on, in extremity.

Enter Pucke.

Here comes my meſſenger: how now mad ſpirit,
What night-rule now about this haunted grove?

Puck. My Muffiſ with a monſter is in love,
Neere to her cloſe and conſecrated bower,
While ſhe was in her dull and ſleeping houſe,
A crew of patches, rude Mechanicals,
That worke for bread upon Athenian ſtals,
Were met together to rehearſe a Play,
Intended for great Theſeus nuptiall day:

The ſhalloweſt thick-skin of that barren fort,
Who Piramus prefentèd, in their ſport,
For ſooke his Scene, and entred in a brake,
When I did him at this advantage take,
An Aſſe note I fixed on his head.

Anon his Thisbie muſt be anſwered,
And forth my Mimmick comes: when they him ſpie,
As Wilde-geefe, that the creeping Fowler eye,
Or rufſed-pated choughes, many in ſort
(Riſing and cawing at the guns report)

Sever themſelves, and madly ſweepe the skye:

So at his fight, away his fellowes ſle,
And at our ſtampe, here ore and ore one ſals;
He murther cries, and helpe from Athens cals.

Their ſenſe thus weake, lolt with their fears thus ſtrong,
Made ſenſeleſſe things begin to do them wrong.
For briars and thornes at their apparell ſnatch,
Some ſleeves, ſome hats, from yeelders all things catch,
Ied them on in this diſtraſted ſeare,

And left ſweete Piramus tranſlated there:
When in that moment (to it came to paffe)

Tytania waked, and ſtraight way lov'd an Aſſe.

Ob. This false out better then I could devife:
But haſt thou yet lacht the Athenians eyes,
With the love juyce, as I did bid thee do?

Rob. I tooke him ſleeping (that is finiſt too)
And the Athenian woman by his ſide,

That when he wak't, of force he muſt be eyde.

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 ſo?
Lay breath fo bitter on your bitter foe.

Her. Now I but chide, but I ſhould vſe thee worſe.
For thou (I feare) haſt given me cauſe to curſe,
If thou haſt flaine Lyſander in his ſleepe,

Being ore ſhooes in bloud, plunge in the deepe, and kill
me too:

The Sunne was not ſo true unto the day,
As he to me. Would he have ſtollen aſſay,
From ſleeping Hermia? lie beleeve as ſoone

This whole earth may be bord, and that the Moone

May through the Center creepe, and to diſpleafe
Her brothers noonetide, with th' Antispodes.

It cannot be but thou haſt murdred him,
So ſhould a murtherer ſooke, ſo dead, ſo grim.

Dem. So ſhould the murderer ſooke, and ſo ſhould I,
Pierſt through the heart with your ſtarne cruelty:
Yet you the murderer looks as bright as cleare,
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'de rather give his carkaſe to my hounds.
Her. Out dog, out cur, thou driv'ſt me paſt the bounds
Of maidens patience. Haſt thou flaine him then?
Henceforth be never numbred among men.

Oh, once tell true, and even for my ſake,
Durtſt a lookt upon him, being awake?

And haſt thou kill'd him ſleeping? O brave tutch:

Could not a worme, an Adder do ſo much?

And Adder did it: for with doubler tongue,
Then thine (thou ſerpent) never Adder ſtung.

Dem. You ſpend your pailion 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 therefor?

Her. A privileged, never to fee me more;

And from thy hated prefence part T: fee me no more
Whether he be dead or no.
Exit.

Dem. There is no following her in this ſierce veine,
Here therefore for a while I will remaine.

So forrowes heauineſſe doth heauier grow:

For debt that bankrout ſlip doth forrow owe,
Which now in ſome flight meaſure it will pay.

If

["154 A Midsummer nights Dreame.", "If for his tender here I make fome flay.", "Lye downe.", "Ob. What haft thou done ? Thou haft miftaken quite\nAnd laid the love juyce on fome true loves fight:", "Of thy mifprison, muft perforce enfue\nSome true love turn'd, and not a falfe turn'd true.", "Rob. Then fate ore-rules, that one man holding troth,\nA million faile, confounding oath on oath.", "Rob. About the wood, goe wifther then the winde,\nAnd Helena of Athens looke thou finde.", "All fancy-ficke ſhe is, and pale of cheere,\nWith ſighes of love, that coſts the fresh bloud deare.\nBy ſome illuſion ſee thou bring her heere,\nIle charme his eyes againſt the doth appeare,", "Rob. I go, I go, looke how I go,\nSwifter then arrow from the Tartars bowe.", "Exit.", "Ob. Flower of this purple die,", "Hit with Cupids archery,", "Sinke in apple of his eye,", "When his love he doth eſpy,", "Let her ſhine as gloriously", "As the Penu of the s ky.", "When thou wak'ſt if ſhe be by", "Beg of her for remedy.", "### Enter Pucke.", "Puck. Captaine of our Fairy band,\nHelena is heere at hand,", "And the youth, miftooke by me,", "Pleading for a Lovers fee.", "Shall we their fond Pageant ſee?", "Lord, what fooles theſe mortals be!", "Ob. Stand afide : the noyſe they make,\nWill cauſe Demetrius to awake.", "Puck. Then will two at once wooe one,", "That muſt needs be ſport alone:", "And thofe things do beſt pleaſe me,", "That befall prepotterouſly.", "### Enter Lysander and Helena.", "Lyf. Why ſhould you think ſhy I ſhould wooe in ſcorne?\nScorne and derifion never comes in teares:", "Looke when I vow I weepe, and vowes ſo borne,", "In their nativity all truth appeares.", "How can theſe things in me, ſeeeme ſcorne to you?", "Bearing the badge of faith to prove them true.", "Hel. You do advance your cunning more and more,", "When truth kilſs truth, O diuelſh holy fray!", "Theſe vowes are Hermias. Will you give her ore?", "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.", "Lyf. I had no judgement, when to her I ſwore.", "Hel. Nor none in my minde, now you give her ore.", "Lyf. Demetrius loves her, and he loves not you. Awa.", "Dem. O Helen, goddeſſe, nimph, perſeſt, divine,", "To what? my love, ſhall I compare thine cyne,", "Chriftall is muddy, O how ripe in ſhow,", "Thy lips, thofe killing cherries, tempting grow!", "That pure congealed white, high Taurus ſnow,", "Fan'd with the Eafterne winde, turnes to a crow,", "When thou holdſt up thy hand. O let me kiffe", "This Princeſe of pure white, this ſeale of bliffe.", "Hel. O ſpight ! O hell ! I ſee you are all bent", "To let againſt me, for your mertiment:", "If you were civill, and knew curteſe,", "You would not do me thus much injury.", "Can you not hate me, as I know you do,", "But you muſt joyne in ſoules to mocke me to?", "If you are men, as men you are in ſhow,", "You would not vſe a gentle Lady ſo?", "To vow, and ſware, and ſuperpraſe my parts,", "When I am ſure you hate me with your hearts.", "You both are Rivals, and love Hermia;", "And now both Rivals, to mocke Helena.", "A trim exploit, a manly enterprize,", "To conjure teares up in a poore maids eyes,", "With your derifion, none of noble ſort,", "Would ſo offend a Virgin, and extort", "A poore ſoules patience, all to make you ſport.", "Lyf. You are unkind Demetrius; be not ſo,\nFor you love Hermia; this you know I know;", "And here with all good will, with all my heart,", "In Hermias love I yeeld you up my part;", "And yours of Helena, to me bequeath,", "Whom I do love, and will do to my death.", "Hel. Never did mockers waſte more idle breath.", "Dem. Lyſander, keep thy Hermia, I will none:", "If ere I lov'd her, all that love is gone.", "My heart to her, but as gueſt-wife ſojourn'd,", "And now to Helen it is home return'd,", "There to remaine.", "Lyf. It is not ſo.", "De. Diſparage not the faith thou doſt not know,", "Left to thy perill thou abide it deare.", "Looke where thy Love comes, yonder is thy deare.", "### Enter Hermia.", "Her. Dark night, that from the eye his ſunction takes,\nThe eare more quicke of apprehenſion makes,", "Wherein it doth impaire the feeing of the ſe,", "It paies the hearing double recompence.", "Thou art not by mine eye, Lysander found,", "Mine eare (I thanke it) brought me to that found,", "But why vnkkind didſt thou leave me ſo?", "Lyſan. Why should he ſtay, whom Love doth preſſe", "Her. What love could preſſe Lysander from my ſid?", "Lyſanders love (that would not let him bide)", "Faire Helena; who more engilds the night,", "Then all yon fiery oes, and eies of light.", "Why ſeek'ſt thou me ? Could not this make thee know,", "The hate I bare thee, made me leave thee ſo?", "Her. You ſpeake not as you thinke; it cannot be.", "Hel. Loes, ſhe is one of this confederacy,", "Now I perceive they have conjoyn'd all three,", "To ſtashion this falſe ſport in ſpight of me.", "Injurious Hermia, moſt vngratefull maid,", "Have you confpir'd, have you with theſe contriv'd", "To baite me, with this ſoule derifion?", "Is all the counſell 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 ſorgot?", "All ſchooledicaes friendſhip, child-hood innocence?", "We Hermia, like two Artificiall gods,", "Have with ou' needles, created both one flower,", "Both on one sampler, fitting on one cuſhion,", "Both warbling of one ſong, both in one key;", "As if our hands, our ſides, ſoices, and mindes", "Had beene incorporate. So we grew together,", "Like to a double cherry, ſeeming parted,", "But yet a vnion in partition,", {"bbox": [982, 1329, 1010, 1345], "category": "Page-footer", "

A Midsummer nights Dreame.

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 creft.
And will you rent our ancient love aunder,
To joyne with men in fcoming your poore friend?
It is not friendly, 'tis not maidenly.
Our feze as well as I, may chide you for it,
Though I alone do feele the injarie.

Her. I am amazed at your pailionate words,
I fcorne you not; It feemes that you fcorne me.

Hel. Have you not fet Lyfander, as in fcorne
To follow me, and praife my cies and face?
And made your other love, Demetrius
(Who even but now did (purne me with his foote)
To call me goddeſſe, nimph, divine, and rare,
Precious, celeſtall ? Wherefore ſpeakes he this
To her he hates ? And wherefore doth Lyfander
Desie your love (for rich within his ſoule)
And tender me (for ſooth) aſſection,
But by your fetting on, by your confent?
What though I be not ſo in grace as you,
So hung upon with love, ſo fortunate?
(But miſerable moſt, to love vnlovd)
This you ſhond pitty, rather then deſpife.

Her. I underſtand not what you mean by this.
Hel. I, do, perſever, counterfeit ſad lookes,
Make mouths upon me when I turne my backe,
Winke each at other, hold the ſweet jeſt up:
This ſport well carried, ſhall be chronicled,
If you have any pitty, grace, or manners,
You would not make me ſuch an argument:
But fate ye well, 'tis partly mine owne fault,
Which death or abſence ſoone ſhall remedy.
Lyf. Stay gentle Helena, heare my excaſe,
My love, my ſoule, faire Helena.

Hel. O excellent!

Her. Sweet, do not ſcorne her ſo.

Dem. If she cannot entreat, I can compell,
Lyf. Thou canſt compell, no more then the entreate.
Thy threats have no more ſtrength then her weak praffe.

Helen, I love thee, by my life I doe;
I ſware by that which I will ſole for thee,
To prove him falſe, that faics I love thee not.

Dem. I ſay, I love thee more then he can do.

Lyf. If thou ſay ſo; with-draw and prove it too.

Dem. Quick, come.

Her. Lyfander, whereto tends all this?

Lyf. Aways, you Ethope.

Dem. No, no, Sir, ſeeme to breake ſoſe;
Take on as you would follow,

But yet come not: you are a tame man, go.

Lyf. Hang off thou cat, thou but, vile thing let ſoſe,
Or I will ſake thee from me like a ſerpent.

Her. Why are you growne ſo rude?

What change is this ſwecte Love?

Lyf. Thy love? out tawny Tartar, out;

Out loathed medicine; O hated poſson hence.

Her. Do you not jeſt?

Hel. Yes, ſooth, and ſo do you.

Lyf. Demetrius: I will keep my word with thee.

Dem. I would I had your bond: for I perceive
A weake bond holds you; Ile not truſt your word.

Lyf. What, should I hurt her, ſtrike her, kill her dead?

Although I hate her, Ile not harme her ſo.

Her. What, can you do me greater harme then hate?

Hate me, wherefore? O me, what newes my Love?
Am not I Hermia? Are not you Lyfander?

I am as faire 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, ſhall I ſay?

Lyf. I, by my life,

And never did define to fee thee more.

Therefore be out of hope, of queſtion, of doubt;
Be certaine, nothing truer: 'tis no jeſt,

That I do hate thee, and love Helena.

Her. O me, you jugler, you canker bloſſome,
You theſe of love; What, have you come by night,
And ſtolne my loves heart from him?

Hel. Fine ytaith:

Have you no modelty, no maiden ſhame,

No touch of bafthfulneſſe ? What, will you teare

Impatient anſwers from my gentle tongue?

Fie, ſie, you counterfeit, you puppet, you.

Her. Pappet ? why to I, that way goes the game.
Now I perceive that ſhe hath made compare

Betweene our ſtatures, ſhe hath vrg'd her height,

And with her perſonage, her tall perſonage,

Her height (for ſooth) ſhe hath prevail'd with him.

And are you growne ſo high in his eſteeme,

Becaufe I am ſo dwarſſih, and ſo low?

How low am I, thou painted May-pole? Speake,

How low am I ? I am not yet ſo low,

But that my nailes can reach unto thine eyes.

Hel. I pray you though you mocke me, gentlemen,
Let her not hurt me; I was never curſt:

I have no gift at all in ſhrewiſhneſſe;

I am a right maide for my cowardize;

Let her not ſtrike me : you perhaps may thinke,

Becaufe ſhe is ſomething lower then my ſelfe,

That I can match her.

Her. Lower ? harke againe.

Hel. Good Hermia, do not be ſo bitter with me;
I evermore did love you Hermia,
Did ever keepe your counſels, never wronged you,
Save that in love unto Demetrius,

I told him of your ſtalth unto this wood.

He followed you, for love I followed him,

But he hath chid me hence, and threatened me

To ſtrike me, ſpurne me, nay to kill me too?

And now, ſo you will let me quiet go,

To Athens will I beare my folly baſſe,

And follow you no further. Let me go.

You fee how ſimple, and how fond I am.

Her. Why get you gone: who if that hinders you?

Hel. A fooliſh heart, that I leave here behinde.

Her. What, with Lyfander?

Her. With Demetrius.

Lyf. Be not afraid, ſhe shall not harme thee Helena.

Dem. No fir, ſhe shall not, though you take her part.

Hel. O when ſhe's angry, ſhe is keene and ſhrewd,

She was a vixen when ſhe went to ſchoole,

And though ſhe be but little, ſhe is ſiſierce.

Her. Little againe? Nothing but low and little?

Why will you ſuffer her to ſlout me thus?

Let me cometo her.

Lyf. Get you gone you dwarſe,

You minuimus, of hindring knot-graſſe made,

You bead, you acorne.

Dem. You are too oſicious,

In her behalfe that ſcornes your ſervices.

Let

A Midsummer nights Dreame.

Let her alone, /speake not of Helena,

Take not her part. For if thou doft intend
Never fo little lew of love to her,
Thou fhalt abide it.

Lyf. Now ſhe holds me not,
Now follow if thou dar'ſt, to try whose right,
Of thine or mine is moſt in Helena.

Dem. Follow? Nay, Ile go with thee cheeke by jowle.

Exit Lysander and Demetrius.

Her. You Miftris, all this coyle is long of you.
Nay, go not backe.

Hel. I will not truſt you I,
Nor longer ſtay in your curſt company.
Your hands then mine, are quicker for a fray,
My legs are longer though to runne away.

Exeunt.

Enter Oberon and Pucke.

Ob. This is thy negligence, ſtill thou miftak'ſt,
Or elfe committ'ft thy knaveries willingly.

Puck. Beleve me, King of ſhadowes, I miſtooke,
Did not you tell me, I ſhould know the man,
By the Athenian garments he hath on?
And ſo farre blameleſſe proves my enterprize,
That I have nointed an Athenians eies,
And ſo farre am I glad, it ſo did ſort,
As this their jangling I eſſeeme a ſport.

Ob. Thou feell theſe Lovers ſeeke a place to fight,
Hie therefore Robin, overcaſt the night,
The ſtarry Welkin cover thou anon,
With drooping fogge as blacke as Acheron,
And lead theſe tefty Rivals ſo aſtray,
As one come not within anothers way.
Like to Lysander, ſometime frame thy tongue,
Then ſtirre Demetrius vp with bitter wrong;
And ſometime raile thou like Demetrius;
And from each other looke thou lead them thus,
Till ore their browes, death-counterfeiting ſleepe
With leaden legs, and Battie-wings doth creepe;
Then cruſh this hearbe into Lysanders eie,
Whofe liquor hath this vertuous property,
To take from thence all error, with his might,
And make his eie-bals role with wonted fight.
When they next wake, all this deriſion
Shall ſeeme a dreame, and fruitleſſe vifion,
And backe to Athens ſhall the Lovers wend
With league, whose date till death ſhall never end.
Whiles I in this affaire do thee imply,
Ile to my Queene, and beg her Indian Boy,
And then I will her charmed eie reelea
From monſters view, and all things ſhall be peace.

Puck. My Fairy Lord, this muſt be done with haſte,
For nights-ſwft Dragons cut the Clouds full ſaſt,
And yonder ſhines Aurora harbinger;
At whose approach Ghoſts wandring here and there,
Troope home to Church-yards; damned ſpiriſs all,
That in croſſe-waies and flouds have buriall,
Already to their wormy beds are gone,
For ſeare leaſt day ſhould looke their ſhames vpon,
They wilfully themſelves exile from light,
And muſt for aye confort with blacke browd night.
Ob. But we are ſpiriſts of another ſort:
I, with the morning love have oft made ſport,
And like a Forrefter, the groves may tread,
Even till the Eaſterne gate all fierie red,
Opening on Neptune, with faire bleſſed beames,
Turnes into yellow gold, his ſalt greene ſtreames.

But notwithstanding haſte, make no delay:
We may effect this buſineſſe, yet ere day.

Puck. Vp and downe, vp and downe, I will leade them
up and downe: I am fear'd in field and towne. Gobin, lead
them up and downe: here comes one.

Enter Lysander.

Lyf. Where art thou, proud Demetrius?
Speake then now.

Rob. Here villaine, drawne & readie. Where art thou
Lyf. I will be with thee ſtraight.

Rob. Follow me then to plainer ground.

Enter Demetrius.

Dem. Lysander, ſpeake againe;
Thou runaway, thou coward, art thou fled?
Speake in fome buſh: Where doſt thou hide thy head?

Rob. Thou coward, art thou bragging to the ſtars,
Telling the buſhes that thou look'ſt for wars,
And wilt not come? Come recreant, come thou child,
Ile whip thee with a rod. He is defi'd
That drawes a ſword on thee.

Dem. Yea, art thou there?

Ro. Follow my voice, we'l try no manhood here. Exi.
Lyf. He goes before me, and ſtill dares me on,

When I come where he cals me, then he's gone.
The villaine is much lighter hec'd then I:
I followed ſaſt, but falter he did flye;

That fallen am I in darke vneven way,
And here will reſt me. Come thou gentle day: lye down.

For if but once thou ſhew me thy gray light,
Ile finde Demetrius, and revenge this ſight.

Enter Robin and Demetrius.

Rob. Ho, ho, ho, coward, why com'ſt thou not?

Dem. Abide me, if thou dar'ſt. For well I wot.
Thou runſt before me, shifting every place,
And dar'ſt not fand, nor looke me in the face.

Where art thou?

Rob. Come hither, I am here.

Dem. Nay then thou mock'ſt me; thou ſhalt buy this
deere,

If ever I thy face by day-light fee.
Now go thy way: faſtinnelſe conftraineth me,

To measure out my length on this cold bed,
By daies approach looke to be visited.

Enter Helena.

Hel. O weary night, O long and tedious night,
Abate thy hours, ſhine comforts from the Eaſt,
That I may backe to Athens by day-light,
From theſe that my poore company deteft,
And ſleepe that ſometime ſhuts up ſorrowes eie,
Steale me a while from mine owne companie.

Rob. Yet but three? Come one more,
Two of both kindes makes up ſoure.

Here the comes, curſt and ſad,
Cupid is a knavish lad,

Enter Hermia.

Thus to make poore females mad.

Her. Never ſo wearie, never ſo in woe,
Bedabbled with the dew, and torne with briars,
I can no further crawle, no further go;

My legs can keepe no pace with my defires.
Here will I reſt me till the breake of day,
Heavens ſhield Lysander, if they meane a fray.

Rob. On the ground ſleepe found,
Ile apply your eie, gentle lover, remedy.

When thou wak'ſt, thou rak'ſt.

True delight in the fight of thy former Ladies eie,

And

A Midsummer nights Dreame.

And the Country Proverb knowne,
That every man should take his owne,
In your waking shall be showne.
Jacke shall have fill, nought shall goe ill,
The man shall have his Mare againe, and all shall be well.

They sleepe all the Aft.

Aclus Quartus.

Enter Queene of Fairies, and Clowne, and Fairies, and the
King behind them.

Tita. Come, fit thee downe upon this flowry bed,
While I thy amiable cheekes o'clock,
And flicke musk ro'es in thy sleeke smootho't head,
And kiffe thy iaire large eares, my gentle joy.

Clow. Where's Peafe blossoms?

Penf. Ready.

Clow. Scratch my head, Peafe-blossoms. 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 thistle; and good Mounfieur bring mee
the hony bag. Doe not fret your felfe too much in the
action, Mounfieur; and good Mounfieur have a care the
hony bag breake not, I would be loth to have you over-
flowne with a hony-bag figniour. Where's Mounfieur
Muffardfeed?

Muf. Ready.

Clo. Give me your newfe, Mounfieur Muffardfeed.
Pray you leave your courteſe good Mounfieur.

Muf. What's your will?

Clo. Nothing good Mounfieur, but to helpe Cāvalero
Cobweb to scratch. I muſt to the Barbers Mounſieur, for
me thinkes I am marvellous hairy about the face. And I
am ſuch a tender aſſe, if my haire doe but tickle me, I muſt
scratch.

Tita. What, wilt thou heare ſome muſſicke, my ſweet
love?

Clo. I have a reaſonable good ſare in muſſicke. Let us have the tongues and the bones.

Muſſicke Tonges, Rurall Muſſicke,

Tita. Or ſay ſweet Love, what thou defireſt to eate
Clo. Truly a pecke of Provender; I could munch
your good dry Oates. Me thinkes 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 feeke the Squirrels hoard,
And fetch thee new Nuts.

Clo. I had rather have a handfull or two of dried peafe,
But I pray you let none of your people flurre me, I have
anexposition of sleepe come upon me.

Tita. Sleepe thou, and I will winde thee in my armes,
Fairies be gone, and be always away.
So doth the woodbine, the ſweet Honifuckle,
Gently entwift ; the female Iuy 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:
See ſeet thou this ſweet fight?
Her dotage now I doe begin to pitty.
For meeting her of late behind the wood,
Seeking ſweet favors for this hatefull foole,
I did upbraid her, and fall out with her.
For ſhe his hairy temples then had rounded,
With coronet of fresh and fragrant flowers.
And that fame dew which sometime on the buds,
Was wont to flowellike round and orient pearles;
Stood now within the pretty flourients eyes,
Like teares that did their owne difgrace bewaile.
When I had at my pleafure taunted her,
And ſhe in milpe termes beg'd my patience,
I then did aske of her, her changeling child,
Which ſtraight ſhe gave me, and her Fairy ſent
To beare him to my Bower in Fairy Land.
And now I have the Boy, I will undoe
This hatefull imperfection of her eyes,
And gentle Fueks, take this transformed ſcalpe,
From off the head of this Athenian ſwaine;
That he awaking when the other doe,
May all to Athens backe againe repaire,
And thinke no more of this nights accidents,
But as the fierce vexation of a dreame.
But firſt I will releafe the Fairy Queene.

Bethon as thou waſt want to be;
See as thou waſt want to ſee.
Dians bud, or Cupids flower,
Hath ſuch force and bleſſed power.

Now my Titania wake you my ſweet Queene:
Tita. My Oberon, what vifions have I ſeene !
Me-thought I was enamoured of an Aſſe.

Ob. There lyes your love.

Tita. How came theſe things to paffe ?
Oh, how mine eyes doe loath this viſage now !
Ob. Silence a while. Robin take off his head :
Titania, muſſicke call, and ſtrike more dead
Then cammon sleepe ; of all theſe, fine the ſenſe.

Tita. Muſſicke, ho muſſicke, ſuch as charmeth sleepe.

Muſſicke ſtill.

Rob. When thou awak't, with thine owne fooles eyes
 sleepe. (me

Ob. Sound muſſicke; come my Queene, take hands with
And rocke the ground whereon theſe fleepers be.
Now thou and I are new inamity,
And will to morrow midnight, Solemnly
Dance in Duke Theſens houſe triumphantly,
And bleſſe it to all faire poſterity.

There ſhall theſe paires of faithfull Lovers be
Wedded, with Theſens, all in jollity.

Rob. Faire King attend, and marke,
I doe heare the morning Larke.

Ob. Then my Queene in ſilence ſad,
Trip we after the nights ſhade ;
We the Globe can compaſſe ſoone,

Swifter then the wandring Moone.

Tita. Come my Lord, and in our flight,
Tell me how it came this night,
That I sleeping heere was found,

Sleepers lye ſtill.

With

A Midsummer nights Dreame.

158

With thefe mortalls on the ground.

Excunt.
Winde Hornes.

Enter Theſens, Egaus, Hippolita and all his traine.

Theſ. Goe one of you, find out the Forreſter.
For now our obſervation is perform'd ;
And ſince we have the vaward of the day,
My Love ſhall heare the muſicke of my hounds,
Vncouple in the Weſterne valley, let them goe;
Diſpatch I ſay, and find the Forreſter.
We will faire Queene, up to the Mountaines top,
And marke the muſicall conſuſion
Of hounds and eccho in conjunction.

Hip. I was with Hercules and Cadmus once,
When in a wood of Creete they bayed the Beare
With hounds of Sparta ; never did I heare
Such gallant chiding. For beſides the groves,
The skies, the ſountaines, every region heere,
Seem'd all one mutuall cry. I never heard
So muſicaall a diſcord, ſuch ſweet thunder.

Theſ. My hounds are bred out of the ſpartan kind,
So flew'd, ſo fanded, and their heads are hung
With eares that ſweepe away the morning dew,
Crooke-kneed, and dew-lapt, like Theſſalions Buls,
Slow in purſuit, but match'd in mouth like bels,
Each under each. A cry moretuneable
Was never hollawed to, nor cheer'd with horne,
In Creete, in Sparta, nor in Theſally ;

Iudge when you heare. But ſoft, what nimphs are theſe?

Ega. My Lord, this is my daughter here aſſeepc,

And this Lysander, this Demetrius is,
This Helena, old Nedars Helena,

I wonder of this being heere together,

The. No doubt they roſe up early, to obſerve
The right of May; and hearing our intent,
Came heere in grace of our ſolemnity.
But ſpeake Egaus, is not this the day
That Hermia should give anſwer of her choice?

Ege. It is my Lord.

Theſ. Goe bid the hunti-men wake them with their
hornes.

Hornes and they wake.

Shout within, they all stare up.

Theſ. Good morrow friends : Saint Valentine is paſt,
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 this gentle concord in the world,
That hatred is ſo farre from Jealousie,
To ſleepe by hate, and ſcare no enmity,

Ly. My Lord, I ſhall reply amazedly,
Halſe ſleepe, halſe waking. But as yet, I ſweare,
I cannot truly ſay how I came heere.

But as I thinke (for truly would I ſpeake)

And now I doe bethinke 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 ſtolne 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.

Deus. My Lord, faire Helen told me of their ſtealth,
Of this their purpofe hither, to this wood,

And I in fury hither followed them ;
Faire 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.)

Seemes to me now as the remembrance of an idle gaud,
Which in my childhood I did doat upon :
And all the faith, the vertue of my heart,
The object and the pleasure of mine eye,
Is only Helena. To her, my Lord,
Was I betroth'd, ere I fee Hermia,
But like a fickeneſſe did Hoath this food;
But as in health, come to my naturall taſte,
Now doe I wifh it, love it, long for it,
And will for evermore be true to it.

Theſ. Faire Lovers, you are fortunately met ;
Of this diſcourſe we ſhall heare more anon.

Egaus, I will over-beare your will ;

For in the Temple, by and by with us,

Theſe couples ſhall eternally be knit.

And for the morning now is ſomething worne,

Our purpov'd hunting ſhall be ſet aſtide.

Awaſ, with us to Athens ; three and three,

We'll hold a feaſt in great ſolemnity.

Come Hippolita.

Exit Duke and Lords.

Dem. Theſe things ſeeme ſmall and undiſtinguishable,
Like farre off mountainses turned into Clouds.

Her. Me-thinkes I fee theſe things with parted eye,
When every thing ſeemes double.

Hel. So me-thinkes :

And I have found Demetrius, like a jewell,
Mine owne, and not mine owne.

Dem. It ſeemes to me,

That yet we ſleepe, we dreame. Doe not you thinke,
The Duke was heere, 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 ; lets follow him, and
by the way let us recount our dreames.

Bottome wakes.

Exit Lovers.

Clo. When my cue comes, call me, and I will anſwer.
My next is, moſt faire Piramus, Hey ho. Peter Quince ?
Flute the bellowes-mender ? Snout the tinker ? Starv-
eling ? Gods my life ! Snolne hence, and left me aſſeepc : I
have had a moſt rare vifion. I had a dreame, paſt the wit
of man, to ſay, what dreame it was. Man is but an Aſſe,
if he goe about to expound this dreame. 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 ſoſle,
if he will offer to ſay, what me-thought I had. The eye of
man hath not heard, the care of man hath not ſeene, man's
hand is not able to taſſe, his tongue to conceive, nor his
heart to report, what my dreame was. I will get Peter
Quince to write a ballet of this dreame, it ſhall be called
Bottomes Dreame, becaſe it hath no bottome; and I will
fing 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, Flute, Thisby, Snout, and Starveling.

Qui. Have you ſent to Bottomes houſe ? Is he come
home yet?

Sta. He cannot be heard of. Out of doubt he is tranſ-
ported.

Thiso. If

A Midsummer nights Dreame.

159

This. If he come nor, then the play is mar'd. It goes not
forward, doth it?

Qui. It is not possible: you have not a man in all Athens, able to discharge Piramus but he.

This. No, he hath simply the beft wit of any handy-craft man in Athens.

Qui. Yea, and the beft person too, and he is a very
Paramour, for a sweet voyce.

This. You muft fay, Paragon. A Paramour is (God bleſſe us) a thing of naught.

Enter Snug the Ioyner.

Snug. Masters, the Duke is comming from the Temple, and there is two or three Lords and Ladies more married. If our ſport had gone forward, we had all been made men.

This. O sweet bully Bottome: thus hath he loft fixepence a day, during his life; he could not have ſcaped fixpence a day. And the Duke had not given him fixpence a day for playing Piramus, he be hang'd. He would have deferved it. Sixpence a day in Piramus, or nothing.

Enter Bottome.

Bot. Where are thefe Lads? Where are theſe hearts?

Qui. Bottome, O moſt courag'd day! O moſt happy houre !

Bot. Masters, I am to disſourſe 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.

Qui. Let us heare, ſweet Bottome.

Bot. Not a word of me: all that I will tell you, is, that the Duke hath dined. Get your apparell together, good ſtrings to your beards, new ribbands to your pumps, meete presently at the Palace, every man looke ore his part: for the ſhort and the long is, our play is preferred: In any cafe let Thisby have cleane linen: and let not him that playes the Lion, paire his nailes, for they ſhall hang out for the Lions claws. And moſt deare Actors, eate no Onions, nor Garlicke; for we are to utter ſweet breath, and I doe not doubt but to heare them ſay, it is a ſweet Comedy. No more words: away, go away.

Exeunt

## Actus Quintus.

Enter Theſeus, Hippolita, Egeus and his Lords.

Hip. Tis ſtrange my Theſeus, that theſe lovers ſpake of Theſe. More ſtrange then true. I never may beleeve Theſe anticke fables, nor theſe Fairy toyes, Lovers and mad men have ſuch feſthing braines, Such shaping phantafies, that apprehend more Then coole reaſon ever comprehends.

The Lunaticke, the Lover, and the Poet,
Are of imagination all compact.

One fees more divels then vaſe hell can hold ;

That is the mad man. The Lover, all as franticke,
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 formes of things
Vknowne; the Poets pen turnes them to ſhapes,

And gives to ayre nothing, a locall habitation,

And a name. Such tricks hath ſtrong imagination,

That it would but apprehend ſome joy,
It comprehends ſome bringer of that joy.
Or in the night, imagining ſome ſeare
How eafe is a buſ ſuppos'd to Beare?

Hip. But all the ſtory of the night told over,
And all their minds transfigur'd to together,
More witneſſeth than fancies images,
And growes to ſomething of great conſtancy;
But how ever, ſtrange, and admirable.

Enter Lovers, Lysander, Demetrius, Hermia,
and Helena.

The. Here come the lovers, full of joy and mirth: Joy, gentle friends, joy and fresh dayes of love Accompany your hearts.

Lyf. More then to us,
Waits in your roall walkes, your boord, your bed.

Theſe. Come now, what maskes, what dances ſhall we have,

To weare away this long age of three hours :

Betweene our after ſupper, and bed-time?

Where is our uſuall manager of mirth ?

What Revels are in hand? Is there no play,

To eate the anguifh of a torturing houre?

Call Egeus.

Egea. Heere mighty Theſeus.

The. Say, what abridgement have you for this evening?

What maske? What muſicke? How ſhall we beguile

The lazy time, if not with ſome delight?

Egea. There is a briefe how many ſports are rife:
Make choife of which your Highneſſe will fee firſt.

Lyf. The battell with the Centaurs to be ſung
By an Athenian Eunuch, to the Harpe.

The. We'll none of that. That have I told my love
Inglory of my kinfman Hercules.

Lyf. The riot of the tipſie Bachanals,
Tearing the Thracian finger, in their rage?

Theſe. That is an old device, and it was plaid
When I from Thebes came laſt a Conqueror.

Lyf. The thrice three Muſes, mourning for the death of learning, late decaſt in beggery.

Theſe. That is ſome Satire keene and criticall,
Not forting with a nuptiall ceremony.

Lyf. A tedious briefe Scene of yong Piramus,
And his love Thisby; very tragicall mirth.

The. Merry and tragicall ? Tedious, and briefe? That is,
hot ice, and wondrous ſtrange ſnow. How ſhall we find
the concord of this diſcord?

Egea. A play there is, my Lord, ſome ten words long,
Which is as briefe, as I have knowne 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, vord apt, one Player ſitted.

And tragicall my noble Lord it is:

For Piramus therein doth kill himſelfe.

Which when I ſaw rehearſt, I muſt conſeſſe,

Made mine eyes water: but more merry teares,

The paſſion of loud laughter never ſhed.

Theſe. What are they that doe play it ?

Egea. Hard handed men, that worke in Athens heere,
Which never labour'd in their minds till now ;

And now have toyled their unbreathed memories

With this fame play, againſt your nuptials.

The. And we will heare it.

O 2

Phil.

A Midsummer nights Dreame.

160

Pbi. No, my noble Lord, it is not for you. I have heard
It over, and it is nothing, nothing in the world;
Vnleffe you can find, fport in their intents,
Extremely ftreft, and cond with cruell paine,
To doe you ſervice.

Theſ. I will heare that play. For never any thing,
Can be amife, when ſimplenefle and duty tender it.
Goe bring them in, and take your places, Ladies.

Hip. I love not to fee wretchedneſſe orecharged;
And duty in his ſervice perſhing.

Theſ. Why gentle ſweet, you ſhall fee no ſuch thing.

Hip. He ſayes, they can doe nothing in this kind.

Theſ. The kinder we to give them thankes for nothing:
Our ſport ſhall be, to take what they miftake;
And what poore duty cannot doe, noble respect
Takes it in might, not merrit.

Where I have come, great Clearkes have purpoſed
To greete me with premeditated welcomes;
Where I have feene them ſniver and looke pale,
Make periods in the midſt of ſentences,
Throttle their praeſt'd accent in their ſeaſes,
And in conclusion, dumbly have broke off,
Not paying me a welcome. Truſt me ſweet,
Out of this ſilence yet, I pickt a welcome :
And in the modeſty of ſearefull duty,
I reade as much, as from the ratling tongue
Of ſaucy and audacious eloquence.

Love therefore, and tongue-tide ſimplicity,
In leaſt, ſpeake moſt, to my capacity.

Ege. So pleafe your Grace, the Prologue is addreſſ.
Duk. Let him approach.

Flor. Trum.

Enter the Prologue.

Quince.

Pro. If we offend, it is with our good will.
That you ſhould thinke, 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 intent is. All for your delight,
We are not heere. 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
knowes not the ſtop. A good morall my Lord. It is not
enough to ſpeake, 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 chaine: nothing
impaired, but all disordered. Who is the next ?

Tanyer with a Trumpet before them.

Enter Piramus, and Thiby, Wall, Moone-shine, and Lyon.

Pro. Gentles, perchance you wonder at this ſhow,
But wonder on, till truth make all things plaine.
This man is Piramus, if you would know;
This beauteous Lady, Thisby is certaine.
This man with lyme and rough-caſt, doth prefent
Wall, the vile wall, which did theſe lovers ſunder :
And through walls chinke (poore ſoules) they are content
To whifper. At the which, let no man wonder.

This man with Lanthorne, dog, and buſh of thorne,
Prefenteth moone-shine. For if you will know,
By moone-shine did theſe Lovers thinke no ſome
To meet at Ninus toombe, there, there to wooe :

This grizly beaſt (which Lyon hight by name)
The truſty Thisby, comming firſt by night,
Did ſearre away, or rather did affright :
And as he ſled, her mantle he did fall;
Which Lyon vile with bloody mouth did ſtaine.
Anon comes Piramus, ſweet youth and tall,
And finds his gentle Thisbies Mantle, ſtaine;
Whereat, with blade, with bloody blamefull blade,
He bravely broaſt his boiling bloody breaſt,
And Thisby, tarrying in Mulberry ſhade,
His dagger drew, and died. For all the reſt,
Let Lyon, Moone-shine, Wall, and Lovers twaine,
At large diſcourſe, while here they doe remaine.

Exit all but Wall.

Theſ. I wonder if the Lion be to ſpeake,

Dem. No wonder, my Lord: one Lion may, when
many Aſſes doe.

Exit Lyon, Thisby, and Moone-shine.

Wall. In this fame Interlude, it doth befall,
That I, one Snowt (by name) preſent a wall:
And ſucha wall, as I would have you thinke,
That had in it a crannied hole or chinke :

Through which the Lovers, Piramus and Thisby
Did whifper often, very ſecrately.

This loame, 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 finſter,
Through which the ſearefull Lovers are to whifper.

Theſ. Would you defire Lime and Haire to ſpeake better?

Dem. It is the wittieſt partition, that ever I heard
diſcourſe, my Lord.

Theſ. Piramus draws neere the Wall, ſilence.

Enter Piramus.

Pir. O grim lookt night, O night with hue ſo blacke,
O night, which ever art, when day is not:
O night, O night, alacke, alacke, alacke,
I ſeare my Thisbies promife is forgot.

And thou O wall, thou ſweet and lovely wall,
That ſlandes betweene her fathers ground and mine,
Thou wall, O wall, O ſweet and lovely wall,
Shew me thy chinke, to blinke through with mine eyne.
Thankes courteous wall. Iove ſhield thee well for this.
But what fee I ? No Thisby doe I fee.

O wicked wall, through whom I fee no bliffe,
Curtſe be thy ſtones for thus deceiving me.

Theſ. The wall me-thinkes being ſenſible, should curſe
againe.

Pir. No in truth fir, he ſhould not. Deceiving me,
Is Thisbies cue; he is to enter, and I am to ſpy
Her through the wall. You ſhall fee it will fall.

Enter Thisbies.

Pat as I told you; yonder he comes.

Thiſ. O wall, full often haſt thou heard my mones,
For parting my faire Piramus, and me.

My cherry lips have often kiff thy ſtones,

Thy ſtones with Lime and Haire knit up in thee.

Pyra. I heare a voyce; now will I to the chinke,
To ſpy and I can fee my Thisbies face. Thisby ?

Thiſ. My love thou art, my Love I thinke.

Pir. Thinke what thou wilt, I am thy Lovers grace,
And like Limander am I truſtfullyll.

Thiſ. And I like Helentill the Fates me kill.

Pir. Not Shafalus to Procrus, was ſo true.

Thiſ. As Shalafus to Procrus, I to you.

Pir.

A Midsummer nights Dreame,

161

**Pir.** O kiffe me through the hole of this vile wall.
**Thiſ.** I kiffe the wals hole, not your lips at all.
**Pir.** Wilt thou at Ninnies tombe meete me straight
way?
**Thiſ.** Tide life, tide death, I come without delay.
**Wall.** Thus have I Wall, my part diſcharged for:
And being done, thus Wall away doth goe. Exit Clow.
**Duk.** Now is the morall downe betweene the two
Neighbours.

**Dem.** No remedy my Lord, when Wals are so wilfull,
to heare without warning.

**Dut.** This is the fillieſt fluffe that ere I heard.
**Duk.** The beſt in this kind are but ſhadowes, and the
worſt are no worſe if imagination amend them.

**Dut.** It muſt be your imagination then, and not theirs.
**Duk.** If we imagine no worſe of them then they of
themſelves, they may paffe for excellent men. Here
comes two noble beaſts, in a man and a Lion.

### Enter Lyon, and Moone ſhine.

**Lyon.** You Ladies, you (whose gentle hearts do feare
the ſmallest monſtrous mouſe that creepes on floore)
May now perchance, both quake and tremble heere,
When Lion rough in wildeſt rage doth roare.
Then know that I, one Snug the Loyner am
A Lion ſell, nor eſſe no Lions damme:
For if I ſhouſt as Lion come in ſtrife
Into this place, 'twere pitty of my life.

**Dut.** A very gentle beaſt, and of a good confidence.

**Dem.** The very beſt at a beaſt, my Lord, that ere I ſaw.

**Lyr.** This Lion is a very Fox for his valour.

**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 valour:
for the Goofe carries not the Fox. It is well; leave it to
his diſcretion, and let us hearken to the Moone.

**Moon.** This Lanthorne doth the horned Moone pre-
fent.

**Duk.** He ſhouſt have worne the hornes on his head.

**Duk.** He is no crescent, and his hones are invisible,
within the circumference.

**Moon.** This lanthorne doth the horned Moone pre-
fent: My ſelfe, the man i'th Moone doth ſee me 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 Moone?

**Dem.** He dares not come there for the candle.
For you ſee, it is already in ſhuffe.

**Duk.** I am weary of this Moone; 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.

**Lyr.** Proceed Moone.

**Moon.** All that I have to ſay, is to tell you, that the
Lanthorne is the Moone; I, the man in the Moone; this
thorne buſh, my thorne buſh; and this dog, my dog.

**Dem.** Why all theſe ſhould be in the Lanthorne: for
they are in the Moone. But ſilence, heere comes Thisby.

### Enter Thisby.

**Thiſ.** This is old Nianses tombe: where is my love?
**Lyon.** Oh.

The Lion roares, Thisby runnes off.

**Dem.** Well roar'd Lion.

**Duk.** Well run Thisby.

**Duk.** Well ſhone Moone.

Truly the Moone ſhines with a good grace.

**Duk.** Well mouz'd Lion.

**Dem.** And then came Piramus.

**Lyr.** And for the Lion vanifl't.

### Enter Piramus.

**Pyr.** Sweet Moone, I thanketh thee for thy funny beames,
I thanketh thee Moone, for ſhining now ſo bright:
For by thy gracious, golden, glittering ſtreames,
I truſt to tatte of trueſt Thisbyes flight.

But ſtay: O ſpight I but marke, poore Knight,
What dreadfull dole is heere?

Eyes doe you ſee! How can it be!

**O dainty Ducke:** O Deere !

Thy mantle good; what ſtand with blood!

Approch you Furies ſell:

**O Fates! come, come:** Cut thred and thrum,

Quaile, cruſh, conclude, and quell.

**Duk.** This paffion, and the death of a deare friend,
Would goe neere to make a man looke ſad.

**Duk.** Befrew my heart, but I pitty the man.

**Pyr.** O wherefore Nature, did'ft thou Lions frame?
Since Lion vild hath heere deſ flour'd my deere :

Which is: no, no, which was the faireſt Dame

That liv'd, that lov'd, that lik'd, that look'd with cheere.

Come reares, confound: Out ſword, and wound

The pap of Piramus:

**I, that left pap, where heart doth hop ;**

Thus dye I, this, thus, thus.

Now am I dead, now am I fled, my foule is in the sky,
Tongue loſe thy light, Moone take thy flight,

Now, dye, dye, dye, dye, dye,

**Duk.** No dye, but an ace for him: for he is but one.

**Lyr.** Leſſe then an ace man. For he is dead, he is no-
thing.

**Duk.** With the helpe of a Surgeon, he might yet reco-
ver, and prove an Aſſe.

**Duk.** How chance Moone-ſhine is gone before?
Thisby comes backe, and finds her Lover.

### Enter Thisby.

**Duk.** She will find him by ſtarre-light.

Heere he comes, and her paffion ends the play.

**Duk.** Me thinkes he ſhould not uſe a long one for
fuch a Piramus: I hope he will be briefe.

**Dem.** A Moth will turne the ballance, which Piramus,
which Thisby is the better. (eyes.)

**Lyr.** She hath ſpyed him already, with that ſweet

**Dem.** And thus he meanes, videlicet.

**This.** Aſſleepe my Love? What, dead my Dove?

**O Piramus** arife:

**Speake, ſpeake.** Quite dumbe? Dead, dead? A tombe
Muſt cover thy ſweet eyes.

Theſe Lilly Lips, this cherry noſe,

Theſe yellow Cowſlip cheekes

Are gone, are gone: Lovers make mone :

His eyes were greene as Leekes.

**O Sifters three, come, come to mee,**

With hands as pale as Milke,

Lay them in gore, ſince you have ſhore

With ſheeres, his thred of ſilke.

Tongue not a word: Come truſty ſword :

Come blade; my breſt imbrue :

O 3

And

A Midsummer nights Dreame.

And farewell friends, thus Thisby ends;
Adieu, adieu, adieu.

Duk. Moon-shine and Lion are left to bury the dead.
Deme. I, and Wall too.

Bot. No, I affure you, the wall is downe, that parted their Fathers. Will it pleafe you to see the Epilogue, or to heare a Bergomaske dance, betweene two of our company?

Duk. No Epilogue, I pray you ; for your play needs no excufe. Never excufe ; for when the players are all dead, there need none to be blamed. Marry, if he that writ it had plaid Piramus, and hung himfelfe in Thisbies garter, it would have beene a fine Tragedy : and fo it is truely, and very notably difcharg'd. But come, your Burgomaske ; let your Epilogue alone.

The iron tongue of midnight hath told twelve.
Lovers to bed, 'tis almost Fairy time.
I feare we shall out-fleepe the comming morne,
As much as we this night have over-watcht.
This palpable groſſe play hath well beguil'd
The heavy gate of night. Sweet friends to bed.

A fortnight hold we this solemnity,
In nightly Revels ; and new iollity.

Exeunt.

Enter Pucke.

Puck. Now the hungry Lyons rores,
And the Wolfe beholds the Moone :
Whileft the heavy ploughman fnores,
All with weary taske forct-done.
Now the wafted brands doe glow,
Whilft the ſcritch-owle, ſcritching loud,
Puts the wretch that lyes in woe,
In remembrance of a throwd.

Now it is the time of night,
That the graves, all gaping wide,
Every one lets forth his fpright,
In the Church-way paths to glide,
And we Fairies, that doe runne,
By the triple Hecates teame,
From the prefence of the Sunne,
Following darkeneſſe like a dreame,
Now are frollicke ; not a Monſe
Shall difturbe this hallowed houſe,
I am ſent with broome before,
To sweep the duſt behind the doore.

Enter King and Queene of Fairies, with their traine.

Ob. Through the houſe give glimmering light,

By the dead and drowſe fier,
Every Elſe and Fairy ſpright,
Hop as light as bird from brier,
And this Ditty after me, ſing and dance it trippinglye.

Tita. First reheare this long by roate,
To each word a warbling note.
Hand in hand, with Fairy grace,
Will we ſing and bleſſe this place.

The Song.

Now untill the breake of day,
Through this houſe each Fairy ſray.
To the best Bride-bed will we,
Which by us ſhall bleſſed be :
And the ſſue there create,
Ever ſhall be fortunate :
Sa ſhall all the couples three,
Ever true in loving be :
And the blass of Natures hand,
Shall not in their ſſue stand,
Never mole, have lip, nor ſcarre,
Nor marke prodigious, ſuch as are
Deſpited in Nativity,
Shall upon their children be.
With this field dew conſecrate,
Every Fairy take his gate,
And each ſeverall chamber bleſſe,
Through this Pallace with ſweet peace,
Ever ſhall in safety rest,
And the owner of it blſt.
Trip away, make no ſtay :
Meet me all by breake of day.

Robin. If we ſhadowes have offended,
Thinke but this (and all is mended)
That you have but flumbred here,
While theſe vifions did appeare.
And this weake and idle theame,
No more yee liding but a dreame,
Gentles, doe not reprehend.
If you pardon, we will mend.
And as I am an honest Pucke,
If we have unearned lucke,
Now to ſcape the Serpents tongue,
We will make amends ere long :
Elſe the Pucke a lyar call.
So good night unto you all.
Give me your hands, if we be friends,
And Robin ſhall reſtore amends,

FINIS.

The Merchant of Venice.

Actus Primus.

Enter *Antonio, Salarino, and Salanio*.

Antonio.

Nooth 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 fluffe is made of, whereof it is borne,
I am to learne: and fuch a Want-wit fadneſſe makes of
me,

That I have much adoe to know my ſelfe.

Sal. Your mind is toffing on the Ocean,
There where your Argofies with portly ſaile
Like Signiors and rich Burgers on the flood,
Orasit were the Pageants of the ſea,
Doe over-peere the petty Traſiquers
That curtie to them, doe their reverence
As they flye by them with their woven wings.

Sala. Believe me fir, had I fuch venture forth,
The better part of my affections, would
Be with my hopes abroad. I should be full
Plucking the graſſe to know were fits the winde,
Peering in Maps for ports, and peers, and rodes :
And every objeſt that might make me ſeare
Mistortune to my ventures, out of doubt
Would make me ſad.

Sal. My winde cooling my broth,
Would blow me to an Ague, when I thought
What harme a wind too great might doe at ſea.
I should not fee the ſandie houre-glaſſe runne,
But I should thinke of ſnallowes, and of flats,
And fee my wealthy Andrew docks in ſand,
Vailing her high top lower then her ribs
To kiffe her buriall; should I goe to Church
And fee the holy edifice of ſtone,

And not bethinke me fraight of dangerous rockes,
Which touching but my gentle Veffels ſide
Would ſcatter all her ſpices on the ſtreame,
Enrobe the roring waters with my filkes,
And in a word, but even now worth this,
And now worth nothing. Shall I have the thought
To thinke on this, and ſhall I lacke the thought
That fuch a thing bechanc'd would make me ſad ?
But tell not me, I know, Antonio

Is ſad to thinke upon his merchandize.

Anth. Believe me no, I thanke 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 prefent yeere :
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 fay you are ſad
Because you are not merry; and 'twere as eafe
For you to laugh and leape, and fay you are merry
Because you are not ſad. Now by two-headed Iannus,
Nature hath fram'd ſtrange followes in her time :

Some that will evermore peepe through their eyes,
And laugh like Parrats at a bag-piper.

And other of fuch vinegar aspeſt,
That they'll not ſhew their teeth in way of ſmile;
Though Neftor ſwere the jeft be laughable.

Enter *Baffanio, Lorenſo, and Gratiano*.

Sola. Heere comes Baffanio,
Your moſt noble Kintman,
Gratiano, and Lorenſo. Faryewell,

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 deere in my regard.
I take it your owne buſines calls on you,

And you embrace th'occafion to depart.
Sal. Good morrow my good Lords, (when ?
Baff. Good ſigniors both, when fhall we laugh ? ſay,
You grow exceeding ſtrange : muſt it be ſo ?

Sala. Wee'il make our leyfures to attend on yours.

Exeunt *Salarino, and Solanio*.

Lord. My Lord Baffanio, ſince you have found Antonio
We two will leave you, but at dinner time
I pray you have in mind where we muſt meete,

Baff. I will not faile you.

Grat. You looke not well ſignior Antonio,
You have too much refpect upon the world :
They loofe it that doe 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 mine a ſad one.

Grati. Let me play the foole,
With mirth and laughter: let old wrinkles come,
And let my Liver rather heate with wine,
Then my heat coole with mortifying grones.
Why ſhould a man whoseblond is warme within,
Sit like his Grandfire, cut in Alablafter ?
Sleepe when he wakes ? and creepe into the laundies

By

The Merchant of Venice.

164

By being peevish ? I tell thee what *Anthony*,
I love thee, and it is my love that speaks :
There are a fort of men, whose villages
Doe creame and mantle like a standing pond,
And doe a willfull ftillneffe entertaine,
With purpote to be dreft in an opinion
Of wifedome, gravity, profound conceit,
As who should fay, I am fir an Oracle,
And when I ope my lips, let no dogge barke.
O my *Anthony*, I doe know of thefe
That therefore only are reputed wife,
For faying nothing ; when I am very fure
If they should ſpeake, would almoſt damme thole cares
Which hearing them would call their brothers fooles :
Ile tell thee more of this another time.
But fifth not with this malancholy baite
For this foole Gudgion, this opinion :
Come good *Lorenzo*, faryewell a while,
Ile end my exhortation after dinner.

*Lor.* Well, we will lea ve you then till dinner time
I muſt be one of theſe fame dumbe wife men,
For *Gratiano* never let's me ſpeake.

*Gra.* Well, keepe me company but two yeares me,
Thou ſhalt not know the found of thine owne tongue.

*Ant.* Fare you well, Ile grow a talker for this geare.

*Gra.* Thankes ifaith, for ſilence is onely commendable
In a neats tongue dri'd, and a maid not vendible. *Exit.*

*Ant.* It is that any thing now.

*Baf.* Gratiano speaks an infinite deale of nothing, more
then any man in all Venice, his reafons are two graines
of wheate hid in two bufhels of chaffe : you ſhall feeke
all day ere you find them, and when you have them they
are not worth the ſearch.

*Ant.* Well: tell me now, what Lady is the fame
To whom you ſwore a ſecret Pilgrimage
That you to day promis'd to tell me of?

*Baf.* Tis not unknowne to you *Anthony*
How much I have diſabled mine eſtate,
By fomething ſhewing a more ſwelling port
Then my faint meanes would grant continuance :
Nor doe I now make mone to be abridg'd
From fuch a noble rate, but my cheife care
I to come fairely off from the great debts
Wherein my time ſomething too prodigal
Hath left me gag'd: to you *Anthony*
I owe the moſt in mony, and in love,
And from your love I have a warranty
To unburthen all my plots and purpofes,
How to get cleere of all the debts I owe.

*Ant.* I pray you good *Baffanio* let me know it,
And if it stand as you your ſelfe ſtill doe,
Within the eye of honour, be affur'd
My purſe, my perſon, my extreameſt meanes
Lye all unlock'd to your occafions.

*Baff.* In my ſchoole dayes, when I had loft ene ſhaft
I ſhot his fellow of the ſelſe fame flight
The ſelſe fame way, with more aduiled watch
To find the other forth, and by adventuring both,
I cſt found both. I urge this child-heod proofe,
Because what followes is pure innocence.
I owe you much, and like a willfull youth,
That which I owe is loft : but if you pleafe
To ſhoote another arrow that ſelfe way
Which you did ſhoot the firſt, I doe not doubt,
As I will watch the ayme : Or to find both,
Or bring your latter hazard backe againe,

And thankfully reſt debter for the firſt.

*Ant.* You know me well, and herein ſpend but time
To wind about my love with circumſtance,
And out of doubt you doe to me more wrong
In making queſtion of my uttermoſt,
Than if you had made waſte of all I have :
Then doe but ſay to me what I ſhould doe
That in your knowledge may by me be done,
And I am preſt unto it: therefore ſpeak e.

*Baff.* In *Belmont* is a Iady richly left,
And ſhe is faire, and fairer then that word,
Of wondrous vertues: ſometimes from her eyes,
I did receive faire ſpeechleſe meſſages :
Her name is *Portia*, nothing undervalew
To *Cato's* daughter, *Brutus* *Portia*,
Nor is the wide world ignorant of her worth,
For the ſoure windes blow in from every coaſt
Reno wned ſutors, and her funny lockeſe
Hang on her temples like a golden fleece,
Which makes her ſeat of *Belmonts Cholchos* ſtrond;
And many *Iaſons* come in queſt of her.
O my *Anthony*, had I but the meares
To hold a rivall place with one of them,
I have a mind preſages me ſuch thrift,
That I should queſſionleſſe be fortunate.

*Ant.* Thou knowſt that all my ſonques are at lea,
Neither have I mony, nor commidity
To raife a preſent ſumme, therefore e goe forth
Try what my credit can in *Venecio* de
That ſhall be rackt even to the uttermoſt,
To furniſh thee to *Belmont* to faire *Portia*.
Goe preſently enquire, and ſo will I
Where money is, and I no queſtion make
To have it of my truſt, or for my ſake.

*Exenunt.*

*Enter Portia with her waiting woman Neriffa.*

*Portia.* By my troth *Neriffa*, my little body is a wea-
ry of this great world.

*Ner.* You would be, Iweet Madam, if your miferie
were in the fame abundance as your good fortunes are:
and yet for ought I fee, they are as fice that ſurſet with
too much, as they that flare with nothing; it is no ſmall
happineſſe therefore to be feared in the meane, ſuperflui-
ty comes ſooner by white haires, but competency lives
longer.

*Por.* Good ſentences, and well pronounc'd.

*Ner.* They would be better if well followed.

*Por.* If to doe were as eafe as to know what were good
to doe, Chappels had beene Churches, and poore mens
cottages Princes Pallaces : it is a good Divine that fol-
lowes his owne inſtructions ; I can eafeer teach twen-
ty what were good to be done, then be one of the twen-
ty to follow mine owne teaching : the braine may devife
lawes for the blood, but a hot temper leapes ore a cold
deeore, ſuch a hare is madneſſe the youth, to skip ore
the mehes of good counaile the cripple ; but this rea-
ſon is not in ſaſhion to chooſe me a husband : O me, the
word chooſe, I may neither chooſe whom I would, nor
refufe whom I diſlike, fo is the will of a living daughter
curb'd by the will of a dead father : is it not hard *Ner-
iffa*, that I cannot chooſe one, nor refufe none ?

*Ner.* Your father was ever vertuous, and holy men
at their death have good inſpirations, therefore the lot-
tery that he hath devifed in theſe three cheſſs of Gold,
Silver, and Lead, whereof who chooſes his meaning,
chooſes

The Merchant of Venice.

choofes you, will no doubt: never be cho sen by any right-
ly, but one who you shall rightly love; but what warmth
is there in your affection towards any of thefe Princely
inters that are already come?

Per. I pray thee over-name them, and as thou namest
them, I will defcribe them, and according to my defcrip-
tion levell at my affection.

Ner. First there is the Neapolitane Prince.

Por. I that's a colt indeed, for he doth nothing but
talke of his horfe, and he makes it a great appropriation
to his owne good parts that he can floo him himfelfe: I
am much afraid my Lady his mother plaid falfe with a
Smyth.

Ner. Then is there the County Palentine.

Por. He doth nothing but frowne (as who should fay,
and you will not have me, choofe : he heares merry tales
and ſmiles not, I feare he will prove the weeping Philo-
fopher when he growes old, being ſo full of uamannerly
fadneſſe in his youth.) I had rather to be married to a
deaths head with a bone in his mouth, then to either of
theſe: God defend me from theſe two.

Ner. How ſay you by the French Lord, Mounfier
La Boute ?

Pro. God made him, and therefore let him paffe for a man, in truth I know it is finne to be a mocker, but he ! why he hath a horſe better then the Neapolitans, a better bad habite of frowning then the Count Palentine, he is every man in no man, if a Tarſſell ſing, he fals ſtraight a capring, he will fence with his owne ſhadow. If I should marry him, I ſhould marry twenty husbands: if he would deſpife me, I would forgive him, for if he love me to madneſſe, I should never requite him.

Ner. What ſay you then to Fancenbridge, the yong Ba-
ron of England ?

Por. You know I fay nothing to him, for he under-
flands not me, nor I him: he hath neither Latine, French,
nor Italian, and you will come into the Court and ſweare
that I have a poore penny-worth in the English : he is a
proper mans picture, but alas who can converſe with a
dumbe ſhow ? how odlly he is ſuited, I thinke he bought
his doublet in Italy, his round hofe in France, his bonnet
in Germany, and his behaviour every where.

Ner. What thinke you of the other Lord his neigh-
bour ?

Por. That he hath a neighbourly charity in him, for
he borrowed a boxe of the eare of the Englühman, and
ſworne he would pay him againe when he was able : I
thinke the Frenchman became his furety, and ſeal'd under
for another.

Ner. How like you the yong Germaine, the Duke of
Saxonie? Nephew ?

Por. Very vildely in the morning when he is ſober,
and moſt vildely in the afternoone when he is drunke: when he is beſt, he is a little worſe then a man, and when he is worſt, he is little better then a beaſt : and the worſt fall that ever fell, I hope I ſhall make ſhift to goe without him.

Ner. If he should offer to choofe, and choofe the right
Casket, you should reſufe to performe your Fathers will,
if you should reſufe to accept him.

Por. Therefore for ſcare of the worſt, I pray thee fet
a deepeglafc of Reiniſh-wine on the contrary Casket,
for if the divell be within, and that temptation without,
I know he will choofe it. I will doe any thing Nerriffa
ere I will be married to a ſpunge.

Ner. You need not feare Lady the having any of theſe

Lords, they have acquainted me with their determina-
tions, which is indeed to returne to their home, and to trou-
ble you with no more ſuite, unleſſe you may be wone by
fome other fort then you Fathers impofition, depending
on the Caskets.

Por. If I live to be as old as Sibilla, I will dye as
chafle as Diana: unleſſe I be obtained by the manner
of my Fathers will: I am glad this parcell of wooers
are ſoreasonable, for there is not one among them but
I doate on his very abſence: and I will them a faire de-
parture.

Ner. Doe you not remember Lady in your Fa-
ther time, a Venetian, a Scholler and a Souldier that
came hither in company of the Marqueffe of Mounſtar-
rat ?

Por. Yes, yes, it was Baffanio, as I thinke, so was hee call'd.

Ner. True Madam, he of all the men that ever my
foolſh eyes look'd upon, was the beſt deferving a faire
Lady.

Por. I remember him will, and I remember him wor-
thy of thy praeſe.

Enter a Serving-man.

Ser. The foure ſtrangers feeke you Madam to take their
leave: and there is a ſore-runner come from a ſift,
the Prince of Moreco, who brings word the Prince his
After will be here to night.

Por. If I could bid the ſift welcome with ſo good heart
as I can bid the other ſoure farewell, I should be glad of
his approach: if he have the condition of a Saint, and the
complexion of a divell, I had rather he ſhould ſhrive me
then wive me. Come Nerriffa, firra goe before ; whiles
we ſhut the gate upon one wooer, another knocks at the
doore.

Exeunt.

Enter Baffanio with Shylocke the Jew.

Shy. Three thouſand ducates, well.

Baff. I fit, for three months.

Shy. For three mouths, well.

Baff. For the which, as I told you,

Anthonio ſhall be bound.

Shy. Anthonio ſhall become bound, well.

Baff. May you ſed me ? Will you pleafure me ?
Shall I know your anſwer.

Shy. Three thouſand ducats for three moneths,
And Anthonio bound.

Baff. Your anſwer to that.

Shy. Anthonio is a good man.

Baff. Have you heard any imputation to the con-
trary.

Shy. No, no, no, no, no: my meaning in ſaying he is a
good man, is to have you understand me that he is ſuffi-
cient, yet his meanes are in ſuppoſition: he hath an Argo-
fie bound to Tripolis, another to the Indies, I under-
ſtand moreover upon the Ryalto; he hath a third at Mexi-
co, a fourth for England, and other ventures hee hath
ſquandred abroad, but ſhips are but boords, Saylers but
men, there be landsrats, and water rats, water theeves,
and land theeves, I meane Pyrats, and then there is the
perrill of waters, windes, and rocks: the man is notwith-
ſtanding ſufficient, three thouſand ducates, I thinke I
may take his bond.

Baff. Be affuſed you may.

Jew.

The Merchant of Venice.

Iew. I will be affured I may: and that I may bee affu-
red, I will bethinke mee, may I speake with Antho-
nio.

Baf. If it please you to dine with us.

Iew. Yes, to smell porke, to eate of the habitation
which your Prophet the Nazarite conjured the divell in-
to: I will buy with you, fell wit h you, 'talke with you,
walke with you, and so following: but I will not eate
with you, drinke with you, nor pray with you.
What newes on the Ryalto, who is he comes here?

Enter Ant honio.

Baf. This is Signior *Antbenio*.

Iew. How like a fawning publican he lookes.
I hate him for he is a Christian:
But more, for that in low simplicity
He lends out money gratis, and brings downe
The rate of ufance here with us in *Venice*,
If I can catch him once upon the hip,
I will feede fat the ancient grudge I beare him.
He hates our sacred Nation, and he railles
Even there were Merchants moft doe congregate
On me, my bargaines, and my well-worne thrift,
Which he calls interreft: Curled be my Trybe
If I forgive him.

Baf. *Shylocke*, doe you heare.

*Shy.* I am debating of my prefent floure,
And by the neere gefle of my memory
I cannot infantly raife up the groſſe
Of full three thoufand ducats: what of that?
*Twball* a wealthy Hebrew of my Tribe
Will furnifh me; but ſoft, how many months
Doe you defire? Reſt you faire good Signior,
Your worſhip was the laſt man in our mouths.

*Anth.* *Shylocke*, albeit I neither lend nor borrow
By taking, nor by giving of exceſſe,
Yet to ſupply the ripe wants of my friend,
He breake a cuſtome: is he yet poffeſt
How much he w ould?

*Shy.* I, I, three thoufand ducats.

*Ant.* And for three months.

*Shy.* I had forgot, three months, you told me so.
Well then, your bond: and let me fee, but heare you,
Me thoughts you faid, you neither lend nor borrow
Vpon advantage.

*Anth.* I do never uſe it.

*Shy.* When *Iacob* graz'd his *Vncle Labans* fheepc,
This *Iacob* from our holy *Abram* was
(As his wife mother wrought in his behalfe)
The third poffeſſer; I, he was the third.

*Anth.* And what of him, did he take interreſſ?

*Shy.* No, not take interreſſ, not as you would ſay
Directly interreſſ, marke what *Iacob* did,

When *Laban* and himſelfe were comprimyz'd
That all the eanelings which were ftaſt and pied
Should fall as *Iacob's* hier, the *Ewes* being rancke,
In end of Autumne turned to the Rammes,
And when the worke of generation was
Betweene theſe woolly breeders in the aſt,
The skilfull ſhephard pild me certaine wands,
And in the dooing of the deed of kind,
He flucke them up before the ſuſome *Ewes*,
Who then conceaving, did in eaning time
Fall party-colour'd lambs, and thofe were *Iacob's*.
This was a way to thrive, and he was bleſſt:

And thift is bleſſing if men ſteale it not.

*Anth.* This was a venture fir that *Jacob* ſerv'd for,
A thing not in his power to bring to pafſe,
But ſway'd and fashion'd by the hand of heaven.
Was this inferted to make interreſſ good?
Or is your Geld and Silver *Ewes* and Rams?
*Shy.* I cannot tell, I make it breeds as laſt,
But note me Signior.

*Ant.* Marke you this *Baffavio*,
The divell can cite Scripture for his purpofe,
An evill foule producing holy wittneſſe,
Is like a villaine with a ſmiling cheeke,
A goodly apple rotten at the heart.
O what a goodly outside falſchood hath.

*Shy.* Three thouſand ducats, 'tis a good round ſummee.
Three months from twelve, then let me fee the rate.

*Ant.* Well *Shylocke*, ſhall we be beholding to you ?

*Shy.* Signior *Antbenio*, many a time and oft
In the Ryalto you have rated me

About my monyes and my uſances:
Still have I borne it with a patient ſhrug,
(For ſuffrance is the badge of all our Tribe.
You call me misbeleever, cut-throate dog,
And ſpet upon my Iewiſh gaberdine,
And all for uſe of that which is mine owne.
Well then, it now appears you need my helpe:
Goe to then, you come to me, and you ſay,
*Shylocke*, we would have monye's, you ſay to:
You that did videide your hewe upon my beard,
And foote me as you ſpurne a ſtranger curre
Over your ſtrheight, monye's is your ſuite.
What ſhould I ſay to you ? Should I not ſay,
Hath a dog money ? is it poffible
A curre ſhould lend three thouſand ducats ? or
Shall I bend low, and in a bond-mans key
With bated breath, and whifping humbleneſſe,
Say this: Faire fir, you ſpet on me on Wednesday laſt;
Your ſpurn'd me ſuch a day; another time
You cald me dog: and for theſe curſeſſes
Ile lend you thus much moneyes.

*Ant.* I am as like to call thee ſo againe,
To ſpet on thee againe, to ſpurne thee too.
It thou wilt lend this money, lend it not
As to thy friend, for when did friendſhip take
A breed of barraine mettall of his friend?
But lend it rather to thine enemye,
Who if he breake, thou mailt with better face
Exact the penalties.

*Shy.* Why looke you how you ſtorme,
I would be friends with you, and have your love,
Forget the ſhames that you have flained me with,
Supplice your prefent wants, and take no doite
Of uſance for my monyes, and youle not heare me,
This is kind I offer.

Baf. This were kindneſſe.

*Shy.* This kindneſſe will I ſhowe,
Goe with me to a Notary, ſeale me there
Your ſingle bond, and in a merry ſport
If you pay me not ou ſuch a day,
In ſuch a place, ſuch ſum or ſums as are
Expreſſ in the condition, let the forſeite
Be nominated for an equall pound
Of your faire fleſh, to be cut off and taken
In what part of your body it pleafeth me.

*Ant.* Content infaith, Ile ſeale to ſuch a bond,
And ſay there is much kindneſſe in the Iew.

Baf. You

The Merchant of Venice.

ning, but at the next turning of all on your left; marry
at the very next turning, turne of no hand, but turne
downe indirefly to the Iewes houfe.

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. Talke you of yong Maſter Launcelet, marke me
now, now will I raife the waters; talke you of yong
Maſter Launcelet ?

Gob. No Maſter fir, but a poore mans fonne, his Fa-
ther though I fay't is an honeſt exceeding poore man,
and God be thanked well to live.

Laun. Well, let his Father be what a will, we talke of
yong Maſter Launcelet.

Gob. Your worſhips friend and Launcelet.

Laun. But I pray you ergo old man, ergo I beſeech you,
talke you of yong Maſter Launcelet.

Gob. Of Launcelet, ant pleafe your Maſterſhip.

Laun. Ergo Maſter Launcelet, talke not of Maſter Laun-
celet Father, for the yong gentleman according to fates and
deſtinies, and fuch odde tayings, the fitters three; and fuch
branches of learning, in indeed deceaſed, or as you
would ſay in plaine tearmes, gone to heaven.

Gob. Marry God forbid, the boy was the very ſtaffe
of my age, my very prop.

Laun. Doe I looke like a cudgell or a hovell-poſt, a ſtaffe
or a prop: doe you know me Father.

Gob. Alacke the day, I know you not yong Gentleman,
but I pray you tell me, is my boy God reſt his ſoule
alive or dead.

Laun. Doe you not know me Father,

Gob. Alacke 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 knowns
his owne child. Well, old man, I wil tell you news of your
fonne, give me your bleſſing, truth will come to ſlight,
murder cannot be hid long, a mans fonne may, but in the
end truth will not.

Gob. Pray you fir ſtand up, I am ſure you are not Laun-
celet my boy.

Laun. Pray you let's have no more fooling about it, but
give me your bleſſing : I am Launcelet your boy that was
your fonne that is, your child that ſhall be.

Gob. I cannot thinke you are my fonne.

Laun. I know not what I ſhall thinke of that: but I am
Launcelet the Iewes man, and I am ſure Margery your
wife is my mother.

Gob. Her name is Margery indeed, Ile be ſworne if
thou be Launcelet, thou art mine owne fleſh and blood:
Lord worſcript might he be, what a beard haſt thou got;
thou haſt got more haire on thy chin, then Dobbin my
philhorſe has on his taile.

Laun. It ſhould ſeem than that Dobbins taile growes
backeward. I am ſure he had more haire of his taile then
I have of my face when I laſt ſaw him.

Gob. Lord how art thou chang'd : how dooff thou
thy Maſter agree, I have brought him a preſent ; how
gree you now?

Laun. Well, well, but for mine owne 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 Iew, 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 runne as farre as God has any ground. O

rare fortune, here comes the man, to him Father, for I
am a Iew if I ſerve the Iew any longer.

Enter Baffanio with a follower or two.

Baffa. You may doe ſo, but let it be ſo haſted that flup-
per be ready at the fartheſt by five of the clocke: fee theſe
Letters delivered, put the Liveries to making, and de-
ſire Gratiano to come anone to my lodging.

Laun. To him Father.

Gob. God bleſſe your worſhip.

Baff. Gramercy, would it thou ought with me.

Gob. Here's my fonne fir, a poore boy.

Laun. Not a poore boy fir, but the rich Iewes man that
would fir as my Father ſhall ſpecife.

Gob. He hath a great inſection fir, as one would ſay to
ſerve.

Laun. Indeed the ſhort and the long is, I ſerve the
Iew, and have a deſire as my Father ſhall ſpecife.

Gob. His Maſter and he (faving your worſhips revere-
rence) are ſcarce catercoſins.

Laun. To be briefe, the very truth is, that the Iew
having done me wrong, doth cauſe me as my Father be-
ing I hope an old man ſhall fruitiſe unto you.

Gob. I have here a diſh of Doves that I would beſtow
upon your worſnip, and my ſuite is.

Laun. In very briefe, the ſuite is impertinent to my
ſelſe, as your worſhip ſhall know by this honeſt old man,
and though I ſay it, though old man, yet poore man my
Father.

Baff. One ſpeake for both, what would you ?

Laun. Serve you fir.

Gob. That is the very deſect of the matter fir.

Baff. I know thee well, thou haſt obtain'd thy ſuite,
Shylocke thy Maſter (poke with me this day,
And hath perſer'd thee, if it be preferment
To leave a rich Iewes ſervice, to become
The follower of ſo poore a Gentleman.

Clo. The old proverb is very well parted betweene
my Maſter Shylocke and you fir, you have the grace of
God fir, and he hath enough.

Baff. Thou ſpeak't it well; goe Father with thy fonne,
Take leave of thy old Maſter, and enquire
My lodging out, give him a Livery
More garded then his fellowes : fee 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 ſwere upon a booke, I
ſhall have good fortune; goe too, here's a ſimple line of
life, here's a ſmall trifle of wives, alas, ſſtene wives is
nothing, a leven widdowes and nine maides is a ſimple
comming in for one man, and then to ſcape drowning
thrice, and to be in perill of my life with the edge of a ſia-
therbed, here are ſimple ſcapes: well, if Fortune be a
woman, ſhe's a good wench for this gere: Father come,
Ile take my leave of the Iew in the twinkling.

Exit Cloune.

Baff. I pray thee good Leonardo thinke on this,
Thefe things being bought and orderly beſtowed
Returne in haſte, for I doe ſeaf't to night
My beſt eſtream acquaintance, hie the gon.

«Leon. My beſt endeavours ſhall be done herein.

Exit Leonat.

Enter Gratiano.

Gra. Where's your Maſter.

Leu.

The Merchant of Venice.

169

Leon. Yonder fir he walkes.
Gra. Signior Baffanio.
Baf. Gratiano.
Gra. I have a suite to you.
Baf. You have obtain'd it.
Gra. You muft not denie me, I muft go with you to
Belmont.
Baf. Why then you muft: but heare thee Gratiano,

Belmont.
Baf. Why then you muft: but heare thee Gratiano,
Thou art too wide, too rude, and bold of voice,
Parts that become thee happily enough,
And in fuch eyes as ours appeare not faults;
But where they are not knowne, why there they flow
Something too liberall, pray thee take paine
To alay with fome cold drops of modeſtie
Thy skipping ſpirit, leaſt through thy wilde behauiour
I beſconſterd in the place I go to,
And looke my hopes.

Baf. Why then you muſt: but heare thee Gratiano,
Gra. Signior Baffanio, heare me,
If do not put on a ſober habite,
Talke with reſpect, and ſware but now and then,
Weare prayer bookes in my pocket, looke demurely,
Nay more, w hie grace is faying, hood mine eyes
Thus with my hat, and ſigh and ſay Amen:
V eall the obſervance of civility
Like one well ſtudied in a ſad oftent
Topicaſe his Grandam, never truſt me more.

Topicaſe his Grandam, never truſt me more.
Baf. Well, we ſhall fee your bearing.
Gra. Nay but I barre to night, you ſhall not gage me
By what we do to night.

Baf. No that were pitty,
I would intreate you rather to put on
Your boldeſt ſuite of mirth, for we have friends
That purpofe merriment : but fare you well,
I have ſome bufineſſe.

Exeunt

Enter Iefſica and the Clowne.

Ief. I am ſorry thou wilt leave my Father ſo,
Our houſe is bell, and thou a merry divell
Did't rob it of ſome taſte of teediouſneſſe;
But fare thee well, there is a ducat for thee,
And Lanceret, ſoone at ſupper ſhalt thou ſee
Lorenzo, who is thy new Maifters gueſt,
Give him this Letter, do it ſecreſtly,
And ſo farewell: I would not have my Father
See mee talke with thee.

Clo. Adue, teares exhibit my tongue, moſt beauteſtful
Pagan, moſt ſwecte Iew, if a Chriſtian did not play the
knave and get thee, I am much deceived; but adue, theſe
foolſh drops do ſomewhat drowne my manly ſpirit:
adue.
Exit.

Ief. Farewell good Lanceret.
Alacke, what hainous ſinne is it in me
To be aſhamed to be my Fathers childe,
But though I am a daughter to his blood,
I am not to his manners: O Lorenzo,
If thou keepe 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 returne all in an hour.

Gra. We have not made good preparation.

Sal. We have not ſpoke us yet of Torch-bearers.

Sol. 'Tis vile vnleſſe it may be quaintly ordered,
And better in my minde not vndertooke.

Lor. 'Tis now but ſoure of clock, we have two hours
to furniſa us; friend Lancelet what's the newes?
Enter Lanceret with a Letter.

Lan. And it ſhall pleafe you to breake up this, it ſhall
ſeeme to figaſiſe.

Lo. I know the hand, in faith 'tis a faire hand,
And whither then the paper it writ on,
I the faire hand that writ.

Gra. Love-newes in faith.

La. By your leave fir.

Lor. Whither goeſt thou?

La. Marry fir to bid my old Maifter the Iew to ſup to
night with my new Maifter the Chriſtian.

Lor. Hold here, take this, tell gentle Iefſica.

I will not faile her, ſpeak e it privately:
Go Gentlemen, will you prepare you for this Maske to
night?

I am provided of a Torch-bearer.

Exit. Clowne.

Sal. I marry, ile be gone about it ſtrait.

Sal. And so will I.

Lor. Meete me and Gratiano at Gratianos lodging
Some houre hence.

Sal. 'Tis good wee do ſo.

Exit.

Gra. Was not that Letter from faire Iefſica?

Lo. I muſt needes 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 ſuite ſhe hath in readineſſe:
If ere the Iew her Father come to heaven,
It will be for his gentle daughters ſake;
And never dare misfortune croſſe her ſoſte.
Vnleſſe ſhe do it vnder this excufe,
That ſhe is iffue to a faithleſſe Iew.

Come go with me, perufe this as thou goeſt,
Faire Iefſica ſhall be my Torch-bearer.

Exit.

Enter Iew, and his man that was the Clowne.

Iew. Well, thou ſhall fee, thy eyes ſhall be thy judge,
The difference of old Shylocke and Baffanio;
What Iefſica, thou ſhalt not garmandize
As thou haſt done with me: what Iefſica?
And ſleepe, and ſnore, and rend apparrell out.
Why Iefſica I ſay.

Clo. Why Iefſica.

Sby. Who bids thee call? I do not bid thee call,
Clo. Your worſhip was wont to tell me
I could do nothing without bidding.

Enter Iefſica.

Ief. Call you ? what is your will?

Sby. I am bid forth to ſupper Iefſica,

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 feede upon
The prodigall Chriſtian. Iefſica my girle,
Looke to my houſe, I am right loath to go,
There is ſome ill a bruing towards my reſt,
For I did dreame of money bags to night.

Clo. I beſech you fir go, my yong Maifter
Doth expeſt your reproach.

Sby. So do I his.

Clo. And they have confpired together, I will not ſay
you ſhall fee a Maske, but if you do, then it was not for
nothing that my noſe fell a bleeding on blacke monday
laſt,

Leon.

The Merchant of Venice.

170

laft, at fix a clocke ith morning, falling out that yeere on
aftwentyday was foure yeere in th'afternoone.

Shy. What are their maskes? heare you me Iefica,
Lock up my doores, and when you heare the drum
And the vile ſquealing of the wry-neckt Fife,
Clamber not you up to the cafements then,

Nor thrust your head into the publicke streete
To gaze on Chriſtian fooles with variſht faces;
But ſtop my houſe cares, I meane my cafements,
Let not the found of ſhallow fopperie enter
My fober houſe. By Iacobs ſtaſſe I ſwere,
I have no minde of feaſting forth to night:

But I will go; go you before me firra,
Say I will come.

Clow. I will go before fir.
Miftris looke out at window for all this;
There will come a Chriſtian by,
Will be worth a Iewes eye.

Shy. What faies that foole of Hagars off -ſpring?
ha.

Ief. His words were farewell miſtris, nothing eſſe.

Shy. The patch is kinde enough, but a huge feeder:
Snaile-flow in profit, but ſleepes by day

More then the wilde-cat: drones hive not with me,
Therefore I part with him, and part with him

To one that I would have him helpe to waſte
His borrowed purſe. Well Iefica go in,
Perhaps I will returne immediately;

Doe as Ibid you, ſhut dores after you, faſt binde, faſt
finde,

A proverb be neſtale in thrifty minde.

Ief. Farewell, and if my fortune be not croſt,

I have a Father, you a daughter loft.

Enter the Maskers, Gratiano and Salino.

Gra. This is the penthouse under which Lorenzo
Deſired us to make a ſtand.

Sal. His houre is almoſt paſt.

Gra. And it is mervaile he out-dwels his houre,
For lovers ever run before the clocke.

Sal. O ten times ſafter Venus Pidgions flye
To ſteale loves bonds new made, then they are want
To keepe obliged faith unforfaited.

Gra. That ever holds, who rileth from a ſeaf?
With that keene appetite that he fits downe?
Where is the horſe that doth untread againe
His tedious meaſures with the unbated fire,
That he did pace them ſiſt: all things that are,
Are with more ſpirit chafed then enjoy'd.

How like a yonger or a prodiſall.

The skarfed barke pints from her native bay,
Hug'd and embraced by the ſtrumpet winde:

How like a prodiſall doth ſhe returne

With over-wither'd ribs and ragged ſailes,

Leane, rent, and begger'd by the ſtrumpet winde?

Enter Lorenzo.

Salino. Heere comes Lorenzo, more of this here-
after.

Loren. Sweete friends, your patience for my long a-
bode,

Not I, but my affaires have made you wait:

When you ſhall pleaſe to play the theeches for wives

Ile watch as long for you then: approach

Here dwels my father Iew. Hoa, who's within?

Iefica abone.

Ief. Who are you ? tell me for more certainty,
Albeit Ile ſware that I do know your tongue.

Lor. Lorenzo, and thy Love.

Ief. Lorenzo certaine, and my love indeed,
For who love I ſo much? and now who knowes
But you Lorenzo, whether I am yours?

Lo. Heaven and thy thoughts are witneſs that thou art.

Ief. Heere, catch this casket, it is worth the paines,
I am glad 'tis night, you do not looke on me,

For I am much afham'd of my exchange:

But love is blinde, and lovers cannot ſee

The pretty ſolliſes that themſelves commit,

For if they could, Cupid himſelfe would bluſh

To ſee me thus transformed to a boy.

Lor. Deſcend, for you muſt be my torch-bearer.

Ief. What, muſt I hold a Candle to my ſhame?
They in themſelves goodſooth are too too light.

Why, 'tis an office of diſcovery Love,

And I ſhould be obſcur'd.

Lor. So you are ſwee,
Even in the lovely garniſh of a boy: but comeat once,

For the cloſe night doth play the run-away,

And we are ſtand for at Baffano's ſeaf.

Ief. I will make faſt the doores and gild my ſelſe
With ſome more ducats, and be with you ſtraight.

Gra. Now by my hood, a gentile, and no lew.

Lor. Behrew me but I love her heartily.

For ſhe is wifc, if I can judge of her,

And faire ſhe is, if that mine eyes be true,

And true ſhe is, as ſhe hath prov'd her ſelfe:

And therefore like her ſelfe, wife, ſaire, and true,
Shall ſhe be placed in my conſtant foule.

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?
'T is nine a clocke, our friends all ſtay for you,
No maske to night, the winde is come about,
Baffanio preſently will go aboord,

I have ſent twenty out to ſeeke for you.

Gra. I am glad on't, I define no more delight
Then to be under ſaile, and gone to night.

Exeunt.

Enter portia with Morrocho, and both their traines.

Por. Go, draw afide the curtaines, and diſcover
The feverall Caskets to this noble Prince:

Now make your choyſe.

Mor. The firſt of gold, who this inſcription beares,
Who chooſeth me, Ihaſt gaine what men define.
The ſecond filver, which this promife carries,
Who chooſeth me, Ihaſt get as much as he deſerves.

This third, dull lead, with warning all as blunt,

Who chooſeth me, muſt give and hazard all he hath.
How ſhall I know if I do chooſe the right?

To The

The Merchant of Venice.

172

The Prince of Arragon hath tane his oath,
And comes to his election prefently.

Enter Arragon, his traine, 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 faile, without more speech my Lord,
You muft be gone from hence immediately.

Ar. I am enjoynd by oath to obferve three things;
First, never to vnfold to any one
Which casket 'twas I choofe, next, if I faile
Of the right casket, never in my life
To wooe a maide in way of marriage:
Laftly, if I do faile in fortune of my choyfe,
Immediately to leave you, and be gone.

Por. To these injunctions every one doth fweare
That comes to hazard for my worthleſſe ſelſe.

Ar. And fo have I addreſſed my fortune now
To my hearts hope : gold, ſilver, and bafe lead.

Who choofeth me muſt give and hazard all he hath.
You ſhall looke fairer ere I give or hazard.

What fayes the golden choff, ha, let me fee:
Who choofeth me, ſhall gaine what many men define:
What many men define, that many may be meant
By the foole multitude that choofe by ſhow,
Not learning more then the fond eye doth teach,
Which pries not to th'interior, but like the Martlet
Builds in the weather on the outward wall,
Even in the force and rode of cauafity.
I will not choofe what many men define,
Because I will not jumpe with common ſpirits,
And ranke me with the barbarous multitudes.
Why then to thee thou Silver treasure houſe,
Tell me once more, what title thou dooth beare;
Who choofeth me ſhall get as much as he deferves;
And well faid too, for who ſhall go about
Tocofen Fortune, and be honourable
Without the ſtampe of merit, let none prefume
To weare an undelerved dignity:
O that eſtates, degrees, and offices,
Were not deriv'd corruptly, and that cleare honour
Were purchaſt by the merrit 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 feede of honor ? And how much honor
Pickt from the chaffe and ruine of the times,
To be new varnifht: Well, but to my choife.
Who choofeth me ſhall get as much as he deferves.
I will affume defert; give me a key for this,
And instantly vnlocke my fortunes here.

Por. Too long a paufe for that which you finde there.
Ar. What's here, the portrait of a blinking idiot
Prefenting me a feedule, I will reade it:
How much vnlike art thou to Portia?
How much vnlike my hopes and my defervings?
Who choofeth me, ſhall have as much as he deferves.
Did I deferve no more then a fooles 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 firſt ſeaven times tried this,

Seaven times tried that judgement is,
That did never choofe amſs,
Soms there be that ſhadowes kiffe,
Such have but a ſhadower bliffe:
There be fooles alive Iwis
Silver'd ore, and ſo was this:
Take what wife you will to bed,
I will ever be your head:
So be gone firſ, you are ſped.

Ar. Still more foole I ſhall appeare
By the time I linger here,
With one fooles head I came to woo,
But I go away with two.
Sweet adue, I keepe my oath,
Patiently to beare my wroath.

Por. Thus hath the candle fing'd the moath:
O theſe deliberate fooles when they do choofe,
They have the wifdome by their wit to looke.

Ner. The ancient ſaying is no hereſie,
Hanging and wiving goes by deſtinity.

Por. Come draw the curtaine Nerriffa.

Enter Messenger.

Mef. Where is my Lady?

Por. Here, what would my Lord?

Mef. Madam, there is a-litbed at your gate
A yong Venetian, one that comes before
To ſignifie th'approaching of his Lord,
From whom he bringeth ſenſible regreets;
To wit (befides commends and cutteons breath)
Gifts of rich value; yet I have not ſene
Solikely an Embaffador of love.
A day in Aprill never came ſo ſwecte
To ſhow how coſtly Sommer was at hand,
As this fore-ſpurrer comes before his Lord,
Por. No more I pray thee, I am halfe a-feard
Thou wift faſy anone he is ſome kin to thee,
Thou ſpend'ſt ſuch high-day wit in praifing him:
Come-come Nerriffa, for I long to ſee
Quicke Cupids Poff, that comes ſo manerly.

Ner. Baffanio, Lord, love if thy will be.

Exenunt.

## Actus Tertius.

Enter Solario 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 Sea;
Goodwins I thinke they call the place, a very dangerous
flat, and fatall, where the carcaſſes of many a tall ſhip,
lie buried, as they ſay, if my goſlips report be an honiſt
wo-man of her word.

Sol. I would the were as lying a goſlip in that, as ever
knapt Ginger, or made her neighbours beleeve ſhe wept
for the death of a third husband; but it is true, without
any ſlips of prolixy, or croffing the plaine high-way of
talke, that the good Anthony, the honeft Antho. (O that
I had a title good enough to keepe his name company)
Come, the full ſtop.

Sol. Ha, what ſayſt thou, why the end is, he hath loft
a ſhip.

Sol. I.

The Merchant of Venice.

Sal. I would it might prove the end of his loffles.

Sol. Let me say Amen betimes, leaſt the divell croſſe my prayer, for here he comes in the likeneſt of a Lew. 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 certaine, I for my part knew the Tailor that made the wings she flew withall.

Shy. And Shylocke for his owne part knew the bird was fledg'd,& then it is the complexion of them all to leave the dam.

Shy. She is damn'd for it.

Sol. That's certaine, if the divell may be her Iudge.

Shy. My owne fleſh and blood to rebell.

Sol. Out upon it old carrion, rebels it at theſe yeeres.

Shy. I fay my daughter is my fleſh and blood.

Sol. There is more difference betweene thy fleſh and hers, then betweene Iet and Iuorie, more betweene your bloods, then there is betweene red wine and renniſt: but tell us, do you heare whether Anthonio have had any loſſe atlea or no?

Shy. There I have another bad match, a bankrout, a prodigall, who dare ſcare her ſhew his head on the Ryalta, a begger that was vſd to come ſo ſmug upon the Mart: let him look to his bond, he was want to call me Vſurer, let him looke to his bond, he was want to lend money for a Chriſtian curſe, let him looke to his bond.

Sol. Why I am ſure if he forſaite, thou wilt not take his fleſh, what's that good for?

Shy. To baite ſih withall, if it will ſeede nothing eſſe, it will ſeede her revenge; he hath diſgraſ'd me, and hindeſed me halſe a million, lauſt at my loſſes, moockt at my gaines, ſcorned my Nation, thwarted my bargaines, cooſed my friends, heated mine enemies, and what's the reaſon? I am a lew:Hath not a lew eyes?Hath not a lew hands, organs, dimentions, ſences, aſfections, paſions, ſed with the fame fooſe, hurt with the fame weapons, ſubjeſt to the fame diſeafes, healed by the fame meanes, warmed and cooled by the fame Winter and Sommer as a Chriſtian is?if you pricke us, do we not bleede ? if you tickle us, do we not laugh? if you poſſon us, do we not die ? and if you wrong us ſhal we not revenges? if we are like you in the reſt, we will reſemble you in that. If a lew wrong a Chriſtian, what is his humilität, revenge? If a Chriſtian wrong a lew what ſhould he 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 Anthonio is at his houſe, and defires to ſpeake with you both.

Sol. We have beene up and downe to ſeeke him.

Enter Tuball.

Sol. Here comes another of the Tribe, a third cannot be matcht, vnleſſe the divell himſelfe turne lew.

Exeunt Gentlemen.

Shy. How now Tuball, what newes from Genowas haſt thou found my daughter?

Tub. I often came where I did heare of her, but cannot finde her.

Shy. Why there, there, there, there, a diamond gone coſt me two thouſand ducats in Franckford, the curſe neuer fell upon our Nation till now, I never felt it till now, two thouſand ducats in that, and other precious, preci-

ous jewels: I would my daughter were dead at my foot, and the jewels in her eare: would she were heartſt at my foote, and the duckets in her coſſin: no newes of them, why fo?& I know not how much is ſpent in the ſearch: why then loſſe upon loſſe, the theſe gone with ſo much, and ſo much to finde the theſe, and no ſatifaſtation, no revenge, nor no ill lucke ſtiring but what lights a my. shoulders, no ſighes but a my breathing, no teares but a my ſhedding.

Tub. Yes, other men have ill lucke too, Anthonio as I heard in Genowas,

Shy. What, what, what, ill lucke, ill lucke.

Tub. Hath an Argofie caſt away comming from Tri-
polis.

Shy. I thanke God, I thanke God, is it true, is it true?

Tb. I ſpoke with ſome of the Sayler's that eſcaped the wracke.

Shy. I thanke thee good Tuball, good newes, good newes:ha,ha, here in Genowas.

Tb. Your daughter ſpent in Genowas, as I heard, one night ſourefore ducats.

Shy. Thou ſtick't a dagger in me, I ſhall never ſee my gold againe, ſourefore ducats at a ſitting, ſourefore ducats.

Tb. There came divers of Anthonios creditors in my company to Venice, that ſweare he cannot choofe but breake.

Shy. I am very glad of it, ile plague him, ile torture him, I am glad of it.

Tb. One of them ſhewed me a ring that hee 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 Batcheler : I would not have given it for a wilderneſſe of Monkies.

Tub. But Anthonio is certainly undone.

Shy. Nay, that's true, that's very true, go Tuball, ſee me an Officer, beſpeake him a fortnight before; I will have the heart of him if he forfeit, for were he out of Venice, I can make what merchandize I will:go Tuball, and meet me at our Sinagogue, go good Tuball, at our Sinagogue Tuball.

Exeunt.

Enter Baſſanio, Portia, Gratiano, and all their trains.

Por. I pray you tarrie, paſſe a day or two

Before you hazard, for in choofing wrong
I loſſe your company; therefore forbeare a while,
There's ſomething tels me (but it is not love)
I would not loſe you, and you know your ſelſe,
Hate counſailes not in ſucha quality;
But leaſt you ſhould not understand me well,

And yet a maiden hath no tongue, but thought,
I would detaine you here ſome month or two
Before you venture for me. I could teach you
How to choofe right, but then I am forſworne;
So will I never be, ſo may you miff me,
But if you do, youle make me wifh a finne,
That I had beene forſworne: Befrow your eyes,
They have ore-lookt me and devided me,

One halſe of me is yours, the other halſe
Mine owne I would ſay: but firſt mine, then yours,

And to all yours; O theſe naughty times

Put bars betweene the owners and their rights.

And to though yours, not yours (prove it ſo)
Let fortune go to hell for it, not I.

I ſpeake too long, but 'tis to peize the time,

To ich it, and draw it out in length,

To ſtay you from election.

Baf. Let

The Merchant of Venice.

174

Baf. Let me choofe,
For as I am, I live upon the racke.
Por. Vpon the racke Baffanio, then confefte
What treafon there is mingled with your love.
Baf. None but that uglie treafon of miftrust,
Which makes me feare the enjoying of my love:
There may as well be amitie and life,
'Tweene flow and fire, as treafon and my love,
Por. I, but I feare you fpeake vpon the racke,
Where men enforced doe fpeake any thing.
Baf. Promife me life, and ile confefte the truth.
Por. Well then, confefte and live.
Baf. Confeſſe and love
Had beene the very ſum of my conſeſſion:
O happy torment, when my torturer
Doth teach me anſwers for deliverance:
But let me to my fortune and the caskets.
Por. Away then, I am lockt in one of them,
If you do love me, you will finde me out.
Neriffa and the reſt, ſtand all aloofe,
Let muſicke found while he doth make his choſe,
Then if he loofe he makes a Swan-like end,
Fading in muſique. That the comparifon
May ſtand more proper, my eye ſhall be the ſtreame
And watrie death, bed for him: he may win,
And what is muſique then? Then muſique is
Even as the flourith, when true ſubjeſts bowe
To a new crowned Monarch: Such it is,
As are thofe dulcet ſounds in breake of day,
That creepe into the dreaming bride-groomes care,
And ſummon him to marriage. Now he goes
With no leſſe prefence, but with much more love
Then yong Alcides, when he did redeeme
The virgine tribute, paied by howling Troy
To the Sea-monſter: I ſtand for ſacrifice,
The reſt aloofe are the Dardanian wives:
With bleared viſages come forth to view
The ſiſe of th'exploit : Goe Hercules,
Live thou, I live with much much more diſmay
I view the fight, than thou that mak'ſt the fray.
Here muſicke.

A Song the which Baffanio comments on the
Caskets to himselfe.

Tell me where is fancie bred,
Or in the heart, or in the head:
How begot, how nourished.
It is engendred in the eyes,
With gazing fed, and Fancie dies,
In the cradle where it lies:
Let us all ring Fancies knell.
Ile begin it.
Ding, dong, bell,
All, Ding, dong, bell.

Replie, replei.

Baff. So may the outward ſhowes be leaſt themſelſe,
The world is ſtill deceiv'd with ornament.
In Law, what Plea ſo painted and corrupt,
But being feafon'd with a gracious voice,
Obſcures the ſhow of evill? In Religion,
What damned error, but ſome ſober brow
Will bleſſe it, and approve it with a text,
Hiding the groſſneſſe with faire ornaments.
There is no vice ſo ſimple, but alluſmes
Some marke of vertue on his outward parts;

How many cowards, whoſe hearts are all as falſe
As ſtayres of land, wereare yet upon their chins
The beards of Hercules and frowning Mars?
Who inward ſeareth, have I verſed white as milke,
And theſe allume but valors excrement,
To render them redoubted. Looke on beauty,
And you ſhall fee'tis purchaſt by the weight,
Which therein ſworkes a miracie in nature,
Making them lighſt that weare molt of it:
So are thofe crilped ſnakie golden locks
Which makes ſuch wanton gambols with the winde
Vpon ſuppofed faireneſſe, often knownne
To be the dowrie of a ſecond head;
The ſcull that bred them in the Sepulcher.
Thus ornament is but the gilded ſhore
To a moſt dangerous ſea: the beautionſe ſcarſe
Vailing an Indian beauty; In a word,
The ſeeming truth which cunning times put on
To intrap the wifſet. Therefore thou gaudy gold,
Hard food for Midas, I will none of thee,
Nor none of thee thou pale and common drudge
'Tweene man and man: but thou, thou meager lead
Which rather threatneſt than doſt promife ought,
Thy palenſe ſmoves me more than eloquence,
And here choofe I, joy be the conſequence.
Por. How all the other paſſions ſleet to ayre,
As doubtfull thoughts, and raiſ himbraſ'd deſpaire:
And ſhuddring ſcarſe, and greene-eyed jealouſe.
O love be moderate, allay thy extaſſe,
In meaſure raine thy joy, ſcant this exſeſſe,
I feele too much thy bleſſing, make it leſſe,
For ſeere I ſurſeit.
Baf. What finde I here?
Faire Portias counterfeit. What demie god
Hath come ſo neere creation? to move the ies?
Or whether riding on the bals of mine
Seeme they in motion? Here are ſever'd lips
Parted with ſinger breath, ſo ſweet a barre
Should ſunder ſuch ſweet friends: here in her haires
The Painter plaies the Spider and hath woven
A golden meſh t'intrap the hearts of men
After then gnats in cobwebs: but her eyes,
How could he fee to do them ? having made one,
Methinkes it should have power to ſcale both his
And leave it ſelfe vnſuriſh't: Yet looke how farre
The ſubſtance of my praife doth wrong this ſhadow
In vnderprifing it, ſo farre this ſhadow
Doth limpe behinde the ſubſtance. Here's the ſcroule,
The continent, and ſummary of my fortune.

You that choofe not by the view,
Chaucer as faire, and choofe as true,
Since this fortune fails to you,
Be content, and ſeeke no new.
If you be well pleased with this,
And hold your fortune for your bliffe,
Turne you where your Lady is,
And clame her with a loving kiffe.

Baf. A gentle ſcroule; Faire Lady, by your leave,
I come by note to give, and to receive,
Like one of two contending in a prize
That thinks he hath done well in peoples eyes:
Hearing applaſe and univerſall ſhout,
Giddy in ſpirit, ſtill gazing in a doubt
Whether thofe peales of praife be his or no.

So

The Merchant of Venice.

So thrice faire Lady Iftand I even so,
As doubtfull whether what I fee be true,
Vntill confirm'd, figg'd, ratified by you.

Por. You fee my Lord Bassano where I stand,
Such as I am; though for my felfe alone
I would not be ambitious in my wifh,
To wifh my felfe much better, yet for you,
I would be trebled twenty times my felfe,
Athonfand times more faire, ten thouand times
More rich, that to ſtand hie in your account,
I might in vertues, beauties, livings, friends,
Exceed account: but the full ſumme of me
Is ſum of nothing: which to terme in groſſe,
Is an vnleſſoned girle, vnſchool'd, vnpractiz'd,
Happy in this, ſhe is not yet ſo old

But the may leane: happier then in this
Shee is not bred ſo dull but ſhe can leane;
Happieſt of all, is that her gentle ſpirit
Commits it ſelfe to yours to be directed,
As from her Lord, her Governour, her King:
My ſelfe, and what is mine, to you and yours
Is now converted. But now I was the Lord
Of this faire manſion, maſter of my ſervants,
Queene ore my ſelfe: and even now, but now:
This houſe, the ſeſt ſervants, and this fame my ſelfe
Are you, my Lord, I give them with this ring,
Which when you part from, looſe, or give away,
Let it prefage the ruine of your love,
And be my vantage to exclaim on you.

Baf. Maddam, you have bereſt me of all words;
Onely my blond ſpeakes to you in my veines,
And there is ſuch conſuſion in my powers,
As after ſome oration fairely ſpoke
By a beloved Prince; there doth appear
Among the buzzing pleafed multitude,
Where every ſomething being blent together,
Turnes to a wilde of nothing, lave 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 Baffano's dead.

Ner. My Lord and Lady, it is now our time
That have itood by and ſeene our wishes proper,
To cry good joy, good joy my Lord and Lady.

Gra. My Lord Baffano, 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 meane to ſolemnize
The bargaine of your faith: I do beſeech you
Even at that time I may be married too.

Baf. With all my heart, so thou canſt get a wife.

Gra. I thanke your Lordship, you have got me one.

My eyes my Lord can looke as wift as yours:

You law the miftres, I beheld the maid:

You lov'd, I lov'd for intermiſſion,

No more pertairces to me my Lord than you;

Your fortune ſtood upon the caskets there,

And ſo did mine too, as the matter falls:

For wooing heere vntill I wſet againe,

And ſwearing till my very rough was dry.

With oathes of love, at laſt, if promife laſt,

I got a promife of this faire one heere.

To have her love; provided that your fortune

Atchiev'd her miſtreſſe.

Por. Is this true Nerriffa,

Ner. Madam it is ſo, to you ſtand pleas'd withall,

Taf. And do you Gratiano meane good faith?

Gra. Yes faith my Lord.

Baf. Our feaſt ſhall be much honored in your mar-
riage.

Gra. Weele play with them the firſt boy for a thou-
ſand ducats:

Ner. What and ſtake downe?

Gra. No, we ſhall ne're win at that ſport, and ſtake
downe.

But who comes heere? Lorenzo and his Infidel?

What and my old Venetian friend Salerio?

Enter Lorenzo, leſſica, and Salerio.

Baf. Lorenzo and Salerio, welcome hither,
If that the youth of my new intereſt heere
Have power to bid you welcome: by your leave
I bid my very friends and Countrimen
Sweet Portia welcome.

Por. So do I my Lord, they are entirely welcome.

Lor. I thanke your honor; for my part my Lord,
My purpofe was not to have ſeene you heere,

But meeting with Salerio by the way,
He did intreat mee paſt all faying nay

To come with him along.

Sal. I did my Lord,

And have reaſon for it, Signior Anthonio
Commends him to you.

Baf. Ere I ope his Letter

I pray you tell me how my good friend doth.

Sal. Not ſicke my Lord, vnleſſe it be in minde,
Nor well, vnleſſe in minde: his Letter there
Will ſhew you his eſtate.

Open the Lester.

Gra. Nerriffa, cheere yond Itranger, bid her welcome.
Your hand Salerio, what's the newes from Venice?

How doth that royall Merchant good Anthonio?

I know he will be glad of our ſucceſſe,

We are the Inſons, we have won the ſteene.

Sal. I would you had won the ſteene that he hath loſt.

Por. There are ſome ſhrewd contents in yond fame
Paper,
That ſteales the colour from Baffianos cheeke,
Some deere friend dead, eſſe nothing in the world
Could turne ſo much the conſtitution
Of any conſiant man. What, worſe and worſe?
With leave Baffanio I am halfe your ſelfe,
And muſt freely have the halſe of any thing
I that this fame paper brings you.

Baf. O wſeet Portia,

Heere are a few of the vnpleaſant 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 veines : I was a Gentleman,

And then I told you true: and yet deere Lady,

Rating my ſelfe 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 than nothing: for indeede

I have ingag'd my ſelfe to a deere friend,

Ingag'd my friend to his meere enemy

To feede my meanes. Heere is a Letter Lady,

The paper as the body of my friend,

And every word in it a gaping wound

Ifuing life blood. But is it true Salerio,

Hath

The Merchant of Venice.

Hath all his ventures faïd what not one hit!
From Tripolis, from Mexico and England,
From Lisbon, Barbary, and India,
And not one veffell escape the dreadfull touch
Of Merchant-marring rocks?

Sol. Not one my Lord.

Besides, it should appeare, that if he had
The prefent money to difcharge the Iew,
He would not take it: never did I know

A creature that did beare the shape of man
So keene and greedy to confound a man.

He plyes the Duke at morning and at night,
And doth impeach the freedome of the itate
If they deny him justice. Twenty Merchants,
The Duke himfelfe, and the Magnificoes
Of greateſt port have all perſwaded with him,
But none can drive him from the envyous plea
Of forſeiture, of juſtice, and his bond.

Iew. When I was with him, I have heard him ſweare
To Tubal and to Chus, his Countri-men,

That he would rather have Anthony's ſleth,
Then twenty times the value of the ſumme

That he did owe him: and I know my Lord,
If law, authority, and power deny not,
It will go hard with poore Anthony.

Por. Is it your deere friend that is thus in trouble?

Baſ. The deereſt friend to me, the kindelt man,
The beſt condition'd, and vnweari'd ſpirit

In doing curteſes: and one in whom

The ancient Romane honour more appears
Then any that drawes breath in Italy.

Por. What ſumme owes he the Iew?

Baſ. For me three thouſand ducats.

Por. What, no more?

Pay him ſixe thouſand, and deface the bond:
Double ſixe thouſand, and then treble that,

Before a friend of this deſcription
Shall loſe a haire through my Baſſanio's ſault.

Airſt go with me to Church, and call me wife
And then away to Venice to your friend:

For never ſhall you lie by Portias ſide
With an vnquiet ſoule. You ſhall have gold
To pay the petty debt twenty times over.

When it is payd, bring your true friend along,
My maid Nerriffa, and my ſelſe meane time
Will live as maids and widdowſes; come away,

For you ſhall hence upon your wedding day:

Bid your friends welcome, ſhow a merry cheere,
Since you are deere bought, I will love you deere.
But let me heare the letter of your friend.

Sweet Baſſanio, my flips have all miſcarried, my Credi-
tors grow cruell, my eſtate is very low, my bond to the Iew is for-
ſeit, and ſince in paying it, it is imſſible I ſhould live, all debts
are cleer'd betweene you and I, if I might ſee you at my death:
notwithſtanding, vſe your pleasure, if your love do not perſwade
you to come, let not my letter.

Por. O love! diſpatch all buſines and be gone.

Baſ. Since I have your good leave to go away,
I will make haſt; but till I come againe,

No bed ſhall ere be guilty of my ſtay,

Nor reſt be interpoſer twixt us twaine.

Enter the Iew, and Solanio, and Anthony,
and the Iaylor.

Iew. Iaylor, looke to him, tell not me of mercy,

This is the ſoole that lends out money gratis.
Laylor, looke to him.

Ant. Heare me yet good Shyloſk.

Iew. Ile have my bond, ſpeake not againſt my bond,
I have ſworne an oath that I will have my bond:
Thou call'd me dog before thou hadſt a cauſe,
But ſince I am a dog, beware my phangs,
The Duke ſhall grant me juſtice: I do wonder
Thou naughty laylor, that thou art so fond
To come abroad with him at his requeſt.

Ant. I pray thee heare me ſpeake.

Iew. Ile have my bond, I will not heare thee ſpeake,
Ile have my bond, and therefore ſpeake no more.

Ile not be made a ſoft and dull-ey'd ſoole,
To ſhake the head, relent, and ſigh, and yeeld
To Chriſtian interceſtors: follow not,
Ile have no ſpeaking, I will have my bond.

Sol. It is the moſt impenetrable curre
That ever kept with men.

Ant. Let him alone,

Ile follow him no more with boſſe ſprayers:

He ſeekes 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-
iture 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
Conſiſeth of all Nations. Therefore go,

Theſe greeſes and loſſes have ſo bated mee;

That I ſhall hardly ſpare a pound of ſleth

To morrow, to my bloudy Creditor.

Well laylor, on, pray God Baſſanio come

To fee me pay his debt, and then I care not.

Exeunt.

Enter Portia, Nerriffa, Lorenzo, Jeſſica, and a man of
Portias.

Lor. Madam, although I ſpeake 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 reeſeſe,

How deere a lover of my Lord your husband,
I know you would be prouder of the worke

Then customary bounty can enforce you.

Por. I never did repent for doing good,
Nor ſhall not now: for in companions

That do converſe and waſte the time together,

Whose ſoules do beare an egal yoke of love,

There muſt be needs a like proportion

Of lyniaments, of manners and of ſpirit,

Which makes me thinke that this Anthony

Being the boſome lover of my Lord,

Muſt needs be like my Lord. If it be so,

In purchasing the ſemblance of my ſoule,

From out the state of helliſh cruelty.

This comes too neere the praiſing of my ſelſe,

Therefore no more of it: heere other things

Lorenzo I commit into your hands,

The

The Merchant of Venice.

177

The husbandry and mannage of my house;
Vntill my Lords returne; for mine owne part
I have toward heaven breath'd a secret vow,
To live in prayer and contemplation,

Onely attended by Neriffa heere,
Vntill her husband and my Lords returne:
There is a monafery too miles off,
And there we will abide. I do defire you

Not to denie this impofition,

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

Lor. Madame, with all my heart,

I shall obey you in all faire commands.

Por. My people do already know my minde,

And will acknowledge you and Ieffica
In place of Lord Baffano and my feife.

So fare you well till we shall meete againe.

Lor. Faire thoughts & happy hours attend on you;
Ief. I wifh your Ladship all hearts content.

Por. I thank you for your wifh, and am well pleas'd

To wifh it backe on you; faryou well Ieffica.
Exeunt.

Now Balthazar, as I have ever found thee honest true,
So let me finde thee fkill; take this fame letter,
And wfe thou all the indeavor of a man,
In fpeed to Mantua, fee thou render this

Into my cofins hand, Doctor Bellario,

And looke what notes and garments he doth give thee,
Bring them I pray thee with imagin'd fpeed
Vnto the Tranct, to the common Ferrie
Which trades to Venice; waft no time in words,
But get hee gone, I shall be there before thee.

Bal. Madam, I go with all convenient fpeed.

Po. Come on Nerriffa, I have worke in hand

That you yet know not of, we'll fee our husbands
Before they thinke of us.

Ner. Shal they fee us?

Por. They shall Nerriffa : but in fuch a habit,
That they shall thinke we are accomplished

With that we lacke; Ile hold thee any wager
When we are both accoutered like yong men,
Ile prove the prettier fellow of the two,
And weare my dagger with the braver grace,
And fpeake betweene the change of man and boy,
With a reede voyce, and turne two minling fteps
Into a manly ftride, and fpeake of frayes

Like a fine bragging youth; and tell quaint lyes
How honourable Ladies fonght my love,
Which I denying, they fell fikke and died.
I could not do withal: then Ie repent,

And wifh for all that, that I had not kil'd them;
And twenty of thefe puny lies Ile tell

That men shall fweare I have difcontinued Schoole
Above a twelve moneth: I have within my minde
A thoufand raw tricks of theſe bragging Iacks,
Which I will prafite.

Ner. Why, shall we turne to men?

Ter. Fie, what a queſtions that,

If thou wert nere a lewd interpreter?
But come, Ile tell thee all my whole device
When I am in my coach, which ſtayes for us
At the Parke gate; and therefore haſte away,

For we must meaſure twenty miles to day.

Enter Clowne and Ieffica.

Clowne. Yes truly; for looke you, the finnes of the Fa-

ther are to be laid upon the children, therefore I promife
you, I feare you, I was alwaies plaine with you, and fo
now I ſpeake my agitation of the matter: therefore be of
good cheere, for truly I thinke you are damn'd, there is
but one hope in it that can do you any good, and that is
but a kinde of baſtard hope neither.

Ief. And what hope is that I pray thee?

Clow. Marry you may partly hope that your father got
you not, that you are not the Iewes daughter.

Ief. That were a kinde of baſtard hope indeed, to the
fins of my mother ſhould be viſited upon me.

Clan. Truly then I feare you are damned both by fa-
ther and mother, thus when I flun Stilla your father, I
fall into Charibdis your mother; well, you are gone both
waies.

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

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

Enter Lorrenzo.

Ief. Ile tell my husband Lancelet what you fay, heere he
comes.

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

Ief. Nay, you need not feare us Lorenzo, Lancelet and
I are out, he tells me flatly there is no mercy for mee in
heaven, because I am a Iewes daughter: and hee fales you
are no good member of the common wealth, for in con-
verting Iewes to Chriſtians, you raife the price of Pork.

Lor. I shall anſwere that better to the Commonwealth
than you can the getting up of the Negroes belly: the
Moore is with childe by you Lancelet.

Clow. It is much that the Moore ſhould be more then
reafon: but if the beſeffeth an honest woman, ſhe is in-
deed more then I tooke her for.

Lor. How every foole can play upon the word, I think
the beſt grace of witte will ſhortly turne into ſilence, and
difcourſe grow commendable in none. onely but Parrats:
go in ſirra, bid them prepare for dinner?

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

Lor. Goody Lord, what a witte-fnapper are you, then
bid them prepare dinner.

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

Lor. Will you cover than fir?

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

Lor. Yet more quarrelling with occafion, wilt thou
ſhow the whole wealth of thy wit in an infant; I pray
thce thee vnderstand a plaine man in his plaine meaning: goe
to thy fellowes, bid them cover the table, ſerve in the
meat, and we will come in to dinner.

Clow. For the table fir, it ſhall be ſerv'd in, for the meat
fir, it ſhall be covered, for your comming in to dinner fir,
why let it be as humors and conceits ſhall governe.

Exit Clowne.

Lor. O deare diſcretion, how his words are ſuted,
The foole hath planted in his memory

An Army of good words, and I do know

A many fooles that ſtand in better place,
Garniſht like him, that for a trickſie word

Defie the matter: how cheerſt thou Ieffica?

And now good ſweet ſay thy opinion,

Now

["The Merchant of Venice.", "How does thou like the Lord *Baffiano's* wife?", "*Ief.* Palt all expreſſing, it is very meete\nThe Lord *Baffiano* live an upright life", "For having such a bleſſing in his Lady,", "He findes the joyes of heaven here on earth,\nAnd on that earth he do not meane it,", "Is reafon he should never come to heaven?", "Why, if two gods should play fome heavenly match,", "And on the wager lay two earthly women,", "And *Portia* one: there muſt be ſomething eſſe", "Paund with the other, for the poore rude world", "Hath not her fellow.", "*Lo.* Even ſuch a husband", "Hast thou of me, as he is for a wife.", "*Ief.* Nay, but aske my opinion too of that?", "*Lo.* I will anone, firſt let us go to dinner?", "*Ief.* Nay, let me prieſe you while I have a ſtomacke?", "*Lo.* No pray thee, let it ferue for table talke,", "Then how ſom ere thou ſpeakſt 'mong other things,\nI ſhall digeſt it?", "*Ief.* Well, Ile fet you forth.", "Exeunt.", "## Actus Quartus.", "Enter the Duke, the Magnificoes, Anthonio, Baffanio,\nand Gratiano", "*Duke.* What, is *Anthonyio* here?", "*Ant.* Ready, ſo prieſe your grace?", "*D.* I am ſorry for thee, thou art come to anſwere", "A ſtony adverſary, an inhumane wretch,", "Vncapable of pitty, voyd, and empty", "From any dram of mercy.", "*Ant.* I have heard", "Your grace hath tane great paines to qualifie", "His rigorous course: but ſince he ſtands obdurate,", "And that no lawfull meaneſ can carry me", "Out of his envies reach, I do oppoſe", "My patience to his fury, and am arm'd", "To ſuffer with a quietneſſe of ſpirit,", "The very tiranny and rage of his.", "*D.* Go one and call the Iew into the Court.", "*Sal.* He is ready at the doore, he comes my Lord.", "Enter Shylocke.", "*Du.* Make room, and let him ſtand before our face.", "Shylocke, the world thinkes, and I thinke ſo too", "That thou but leadſt this ſtyle of thy mallice", "To the laſt hour of act, and then 'tis thought", "Thou'lt ſhew thy mercy and remorſe more ſtrange,", "Than is thy ſtrange apparant cruelty,", "And where thou now exact'ſt the penalty,", "Which is a pound of this poore Merchants ſleſh,", "Thou wilt not only ſoole the forfeiture,", "But touch'd with humane gentlenesse and love,", "Forgive a moyty of the principall,", "Glancing an eie of pitty on his loſſes", "That have of late ſo huidied on his backe,", "Enow to preſſe a royall Merchant downe;", "And plucke commiſeration of his ſtate", "From braſſe boſomes, and rough hearts of flint,", "From ſtubborne Turkes and Tarters never traind", "To offices of tender curſeſe,", "We all expect a gentle anſwer Iew?", "*Iew.* I have poffeit your grace of what I purpose,", "And by our holy Sabbath have I ſworne", "To have the due and forſeit of my bond.", "If you deny it, let the danger light", "Vpon your Charter, and your Cities freedome.", "You'l aske me why I rather chooſe to have", "A weight of carrion ſleſh, then to receive", "Three thouſand Ducates ? Ile not anſwer that:", "But ſay it is my humor ; Is it anſwered?", "What if my houſe be troubled with a Rat,", "And I be pleas'd to give ten thouſand Ducates", "To have it bain'd? What, are you anſwer'd yet?", "Some men there are love not a gaping Pigge:", "Some that are madde, if they behold a Cat:", "And others, when the bag-pipe ſings 't h'noſe,", "Cannot containe their Vrine for affection.", "Maſters of paffion ſwayes it to the moode", "Of what it likes or loathes, now for your anſwer:", "As there is no firme reaſon to be rendred", "Why he cannot abide a gaping Pigge?", "Why he a harmleſſe neceſtary Cat?", "Why he a woollen bag-pipe: but of force", "Muſt yeeld to ſuch inevitable ſhame,", "As to offend himſelſe being offended:", "Socan I give no reaſon, nor I will not,", "More then a lodg'd hate, and a certaine loathing", "I beare *Anthonyio*, that I follow thus", "A loofing ſuite againſt him? Are you anſwered?", "*Baf.* This is no anſwer thou vnfeeling man,", "To excufe the curant of thy cruelty.", "*Iew.* I am not bound to prieſe thee with my anſwer,", "*Baf.* Do all men kil the thing they do not love?", "*Iew.* Hates any man the thing he would not kill?", "*Baf.* Every offence is not a hate at firſt.", "*Iew.* What wouldſt thou have a Serpent ſting thee twice?", "*Ant.* I pray you thinke you queſtion with the Iew:", "You may as well go ſtand upon the beach,", "And bid the mainie flood bate his vſuall height,", "Or even as well vſe queſtion with the Wolfe,", "The Ewe bleate for the Lambe : when you behold,", "You may as well forbid the Mountaine Pines", "To wagge their high tops, and to make no noife", "When they are fretted with the guilts of heaven:", "You may as well do any thing moſt hard,", "As ſeeke to soften that, than which what harder?", "His lewifh heart. Therefore I do beſeech you", "Make no more offers, vſe no farther meaneſ,", "But with all briefe and plaine conveniency", "Let me have judgement, and the Iew his will.", "*Baf.* For thy three thouſand Ducates here is ſix.", "*Iew.* If every Ducat in ſixe thouſand Ducates", "Were in ſixe parts, and every part a Ducate,", "I would not draw them, I would have my bond?", "*Du.* How ſhalt thou hope for mercy, rendring none?", "*Iew.* What judgement ſhall I dread doing no wrong?", "You have among you many a purchast ſlaue,", "Which like you Aſſes, and your Dogs and Mules,", "You vſe in abject and inſlavifh part,", "Because your bought them. Shall I ſay to you,", "Let them be free, marry them to your heires?", "Why vſeate they under burthens? Let their beds", "Be made as ſoft as yours: and let their pallats", "Be ſeafon'd with ſuch Viands : you will anſwer",

The Merchant of Venice.

179

The flaves are ours. So do I anſwer you.

The pound of fleſh which I demand of him

Is deereely bought, 'tis mine, and I will have it.

If you deny me, he upon your Law,

There is no force in the decrees of Venice;

I stand for judgment, anſwer, Shall I have it?

Du. Vpon my power I may diſinſule this Court,
Vnleſſe Bellario a learned Doctor,

Whom I have ſent for to determine this,
Come here to day.

Sal. My Lord, heere ſtayes without

A Meſſenger with Letters from the Doctor,
New come from Padua.

Du. Bring us the Letters, Call the Meſſengers.

Baj. Good, cheere Anthonio. What man, corage yet:
The Iew ſhalt have my fleſh, blood, bones, and all,
Ere thou ſhalt looke for me one drop of blood.

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

Enter Ngriffa.

Du. Came you from Padua from Bellario?
Ner. from both.

My Lord Bellario greets your Grace.

Baj. Why doſt thou whet thy knife ſo earneſtly?

Iew. To cut the forſeiture from that bankrout there.

Gra. Not on thy ſoale : but on thy foule harſh Iew
Thou mak't thy knife keene : but no mettall can,
No, not the hangmans Axe beare haſe the keeneſſe
Of thy ſharpe enuy. Can no prayers pierce thee?

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

Gra. O be thou damn'd, inexcusable dogge,

And for thy life let juſtice be accuſ'd.
Thou almoſt mak't me waver in my faiths

To hold opinion with Pythagoras,
That ſoules of animals infuſe themselves

Into the trunkes of men. Thy curiſh ſpirit
Govern'd a Wolfe, who hang'd for humane ſlaughter,
Even from the gallowes did his ſell ſoule fleet;
And whil'th thou layeſt in thy unhallowed dam,

Infus'd it ſelfe in thee : For thy deſires
Are Wolviſh, bloody, terv'd, and ravenous.

Iew. Till thou canſt raile the ſcale from off my bond
Thou but offen'dt thy Lungs to ſpeale ſo float:
Repaire thy wit good youth, or it will fall
To endleſſe ruine. I stand heree for Law.

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

Ner. He attendeth here hard by
To know your anſwer, whether you'll admit him.

Du. With all my heart. Somethree or four of you
Go give him curteous conduct to this place,
Meane time the Court ſhall heare Bellarioes Letter.

Y Our Grace ſhall understand, that at the receite of your Let-
ter I am very ſiſe: but in the inſtant that your meſſenger
came, in loving viſitation, was with me a young Doctor of
Rome, his name is Balthazar: I acquired him with the cauſe
in Converſie, betweene the Iew and Anthonio the Mer-
chant: We turn'd ore many Bookes together : hee is furniſhed
with my opinion, which bettred with his owne learning, the great-
neſſe whereof I cannot enough commend, comes with him at my

importunty, to fill up your Graces request in my ſtad. I beſeech
you, let his lacke of years be no impediment to let him lacke a
reverend estimation: for I never knewe ſo yong a body, with ſo
old a head. I leave him to your gracious acceptance, whose trial
ſhall better publish his commendation.

Enter Portia for Baltbazar.

Du. You heare the learn'd Bellario what he writes,
And heere( I take it) is the Doctor come.

Give me your hand : Came you from old Bellario?

Por. I did my Lord.

Du. You are welcome: take your place;
Are you acquainted with the difference
That holds this preſent question in the Court.

Por. I am enſormed throughly of the cauſe.
Which is the Merchant heere? and which the Iew?

Du. Anthonio and old Shylocke, both stand forth.

Por. Is your name Shylocke.

Iew. Shylocke is my name.

Por. Of a ſtrange nature is the ſute you follow,
Yet in ſuch rule, that the Venetian Law

Cannot impugne you as you do proceed.

You ſtand within his danger, do you not?

Ant. I, ſo he fayes.

Po. Do you confefle the bond?

An. I do.

Por. Then muſt the Iew be merciful.

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

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

It drepeth as the gentle raine from heaven
Vpon the place beneath. It is twice bleſt,

It bleſſeth him that gives, and him that takes,
'Tis mightieſt in the mightieſt, it becomes

The throned Monarch better then his Crowne.
His Scepter ſhewes the force of temporall power,

The attribute to awe and Majesty,
Wherein doth fit the dread and ſteare of Kings:

But mercy is aboue this ſceptred ſway,

It is enthroned in the hearts of Kings,

It is an attribute to God himſelfe;

And earthly power doth then ſhew likeſt Gods

When mercy ſeafons Inſtice. Therefore Iew,

Though Inſtice be thy plea, confider this,

That in the courſe of Inſtice, none of us

Should fee falvation: we do pray for mercy,

And that fame prayer, doth teach us all to render

The deeds of mercy. I have ſpoke thus much

To mitigate the juſtice of thy plea:

Which if thou follow, this ſtrict courſe of Venice
Muſt neeſes give ſentence gainſt the Merchant there.

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

Por. Is he not able to diſcharge the money?

Baj. Yes, heere I tender it for hi n in the Court,

Yea, twice the ſummef that will not ſuſſice,

I will be bound to pay it ten times ore,

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

If this will not ſuſſice it muſt appeare

That malice beares downe truth. And I beſeech you
Wreſt once the Law to your authority.

To do a great right, do a little wrong.

And curbe this cruell divell of his will.

Por. It muſt not be, there is no power in Venice
Can alter a decree eſtablished:

'Twill be recorded for a Preſident,

And

["The Merchant of Venice.", "180", "And many an error by the fame example;\nWill ruff into the flate: It cannot be.", "Iew. A Daniel come to judgement, yea a Daniel.", "O wife young Iudge, how do I honour thee.", "Por. I pray you let me looke upon the bond.", "Iew. Heere 'tis moft reverend Doctor, heere it is.", "Por. Shylocke, there's thrice thy mony offered thee.", "Shy. An oath, an oath, I have an oath in heaven:", "Shall I lay perjury upon my foule?", "No not for Venice.", "Por. Why this bond is forfeit,", "And lawfully by this the Iew may claime", "A pound of flefh, to be by him cut off", "Necreft the Merchants heart; be mercifull,", "Take thrice thy money, bid me teare the bond.", "Iew. When it is paid according to the tenure.", "It doth appeare you are a worthy Iudge:", "You know the Law, your expofition", "Hath beene moft found. I charge you by the Law,", "Whereof you are a well-deferving pillar,", "Proceede to judgement: By my foule I fware,", "There is no power in the tongue of man", "To alter me: I stay heere on my bond.", "An. Moft heartily I do befeech the Court", "To givethothe judgement.", "Por. Why then thus it is:", "You muft prepare your bofome for his knife.", "Iew. O noble Iudge, O excellent yong man.", "Por. For the intent and purpofe of the Law", "Hath full relation to the penalty,", "Which heere appeareth due upon the bond.", "Iew. 'Tis very true: O wife and upright Iudge,", "How much more elder art thou then thy lookes?", "Por. Therefore lay bare your bofome.", "Iew. I, his breft,", "So fayes the bond, doth it not noble Iudge?", "Necreft his heart, thofe are the very words.", "Por. It is so: Are there ballance heere to weigh the\nflefh?", "Iew. I have them ready.", "Por. Have by some Surgeon Shylock on your charge", "To ftop his wounds, leaft he fhould bleede to death.", "Iew. It is not nominated in the bond?", "Por. It is not fo expreſſt: but what of that?", "'Twere good you do ſo much for charity.", "Iew. I cannot finde it, 'tis not in the bond.", "Por. Come Merchant, have you any thing to ſay?", "Ant. But little: I am arm'd and well prepar'd", "Give me your hand Baffanio, fare you well.", "Greeve not that I am faue to this for you:", "For heerein fortune fiewes her ſelfe more kinde", "Then is his cuſtome. It is ſtill her uſe", "To let the wretched man out-life his wealth,", "To view with hollow eye, and wrinkled brow", "An age of poverty. From which lingring penance", "Of ſuch a mifery, doth ſhe cut me off:", "Commend me to your honourable Wife,", "Tell her the proceſſe of Anthonio's end:", "Say how I lov'd you; ſpeake me faire in death:", "And when the tale is told, bid her be judge,", "Whether Baffanio had not once a Love:", "Repent not you that you ſhall loofe your friend,", "And he repents not that he payes your debt.", "For if the Iew do cut but deepenough,", "He pay it infantly, withall my heart.", "Baf. Anthonio, I am married to a wife,", "Which is as deere to me as life it ſelfe,", "But life it ſelfe, my wife and all the world,", "Are not with me eſteem'd above thy life.", "I would loofe all, I sacrifice them all", "Heere to this devill, to deliver you.", "Por. Your wife would give you little thanks for that,\nIf she were by to heare you make the offer.", "Le Gras. I have a wife whom I proteſt I love,", "I would the were in heaven, to the could", "Intreat fome power to change this curriſh Iew.", "Ner. 'Tis well you offer it behinde her backe,", "The wifh would make eſſe an vnquiet houſe.", "Por. Theſe be the Chriſtian husbands: I have a daugh-\nWould any of the ſtockes of Barabas", "Had beene her husband, rather thena Chriſtian.", "We trifle time, I pray thee purſue ſentence.", "Por. A pound of that fame merchants fleſh is thine,\nThe Court awards it; and the law doth give it.", "Iew. Moſt rightfull Iudge.", "Por. And you muſt cut this fleſh from off his breast,", "The Law allows it, and the Court awards it.", "Iew. Moſt learned Iudge, a ſentence, come prepare,", "For. Tarry a little, there is ſomething eſſe,", "This bond doth give thee here no jot of bloud,", "The words expreſſly are a pound of fleſh:", "Then take thy bond, take thou thy pound of fleſh,", "But in the cutting it; if thou doſt ſhed", "One drop of Chriſtian bloud, thy lands and goods", "Are by the Lawes of Venice conſiſtate", "Vnto the ſtate of Venice.", "Gra. O upright Iudge,", "Marke Iew, O learned Iudge.", "Shy. Is that the law?", "Por. Thy ſelſe ſhalt fee the Act:", "For as thou uſeſt juſtice, beaſur'd", "Thou ſhalt have juſtice more then thou deſireſt.", "Gra. O learned Iudge, marke Iew, a learned Iudge.", "Iew. I take this offer then, pay the bond thrice,", "And let the Chriſtian go.", "Baf. Heere is the mony.", "For. Soft, the Iew ſhall have all juſtice, ſoft, no haſte,\nHe ſhall have nothing but the penalty.", "Gra. O Iew, an upright Iudge, a learned Iudge.", "Por. I herefore prepare thee to cut off the fleſh,\nShed thou no bloud, nor cut thou leſſe nor more", "But juſt a pound of fleſh: if thou tak'it more", "Or leſſe then a juſt pound, be it ſo much", "As makes it light or heavy in the ſubſtance,", "Or the devifion of the twentieth part", "Of one poore ſeruple, nay if the ſcale do turne", "But in the eſtimation of a hayre,", "Thou dieſt, and all thy goods are conſiſtate.", "Gra. A ſeconſ Daniel, a Daniel Iew,", "Now infidell I have thee on the hip.", "Por. Why doth the Iew paufe, take thy forfeiture.", "Shy. Give me my principall, and let me go.", "Baf. I have it ready for thee, heere it is.", "Por. He hath refus'd it in the open Court,", "He ſhall have meerly juſtice and his bond.", {"bbox": [706, 1199, 970, 1224], "category": "Text", "text":

The Merchant of Venice.

181

Por. Tarry Iew,
The Law hath yet another hold on you.
It is enacted in the Lawes of Venice,
If it be proved against an Alien,
That by direct, or indirect attempts
He feele the life of any Citizen,
The party 'gainst the which he doth contrive,
Shall feaze one halfe his goods, the other halfe
Comes to the privy coffer of the State,
And the offenders life lies in the mercy
Of the Duke only, 'gainst all other voyce.
In which predicament I fay thou ſlandſt:
For it appears by manifeit proceeding,
That indirectly, and directly too
Thou had contriv'd againſt the very life
Of the defendant : and thou haſt incur'd
The danger formerly by me rehearſt.
Downte therefore, and beg mercy of the Duke.
Gra. Beg that thou maſt have leave to hang thy ſelfe,
And yet thy wealth being forfeit to the ſtate,
Thou haſt not left the value of a cord,
Therefore thou maſt be hang'd at the ſtates charge.
Duk. That thou haſt not fee the difference of our ſpiri,
I pardon thee thy life before thou aske it:
For halfe thy wealth, it is Anthony's,
The other halfe comes to the generall ſtate,
Which humbleneſſe may drive unto a fine.
Por. I for the ſtate, not for Anthony.
Shy. Nay, take my life and all, pardon not that,
You take my houſe, when you doe take the prop
That doth houſtaine my houſe : you take my life
When you doe take the means whereby I live.
Por. What mercy can you render him Anthony?
Gra. A halter Gratia, nothing eſſe for Gods ſake.
Ant. So ploafe my Lord the Duke, and all the Court
To quite the fine for one halfe of his goods,
I am content : fo he will let me have
The other halſe in uſe, to render it
Vpon his death, unto the Gentleman
That lately ſtole his daughter.
Two things provided more, that for this favour
He pfeiſently become a Christian :
The other, that he doe record a gift
Heere in the Court of all he dyes poffeſt
Vnto his ſonne Lorenzo, and his daughter.
Duk. He shall do this, or eſſe I doe recant
The pardon that I late pronounced heere.
Por. Art thou contented Iew ? what doſt thou ſay ?
Shy. I am content.
Por. Clarke, draw a deed of gift.
Shy. I pray you give me leave to goe from hence,
I am not well, ſend the deed after me,
And I will ſigne it.
Duk. Get thee gone, but doe it.
Gra. In chrifting thou haſt have two godfathers,
Had I beene judge, thou ſhouldſt have had ten more,
To bring thee to the gallowes, not to the font.
Duk. Sir I intreat you with me home to dinner.
Por. I humbly doe defire your Grace of pardon,
I muſt away this night toward Padua,
And it is meete I pfeiſently fet forth.
Duk. I am forry that your leyſure ſerves you not:
Anthony greatiſe this gentleman,
For in my mind, you are much bound to him.
Baff. Moſt worthy gentleman, I and my freind
Have by your wifedome beene this day acquitted
Of greevous penalties, in lieu whereof,
Three thouſand Ducats due unto the Iew
We freely cope your curteous paines with all.
Ant. And ſland indebted over and above
In love and ſervice to you evermore.
Por. He is well paid that is well ſatistied,
And I delivering you, am ſatistied,
And therein doe account my ſelfe well paid,
My mind was never yet more mercenary.
I pray you know me when we meete againe,
I with you well, and fo I take my leave.
Baff. Deare fir, of force I muſt attempt you further,
Take ſome remembrance of us as a tribute,
Not as a fee : grant me two things, I pray you
Not to deny me, and to pardon me.
Por. You preſe me farre, and therefore I will yeeld,
Give me your gloves, I weare them for your ſake,
And for your love I take this ring from you,
Doe not draw backe your hand, ile take no more,
And you in love ſhall not deny me this?
Baff. This ring good fir, alas it is a trifle,
I will not ſhame my ſelfe to give you this.
Por. I will have nothing eſſe but onely this,
And now methinkes I have a mind to it.
Baf. There's more depends on this then on the valew,
The deareſt ring in Venice will I give you,
And find it out by proclamation,
Onely for this I pray you pardon me.
Por. I fee fir you are liberall in offers,
Yon taught me firſt to beg, and now me thinkes
You teach me how a begger ſhould be anſwer'd.
Baf. Good fir, this ring was given me by my wife,
And when he put it on, ſhe made me vow
That I ſhould neither fell, nor give, nor loſe it.
Por. That cafe ſerves many men to ſave their gifts,
And if your wife be not a mad woman,
And know how well I have deferv'd this ring,
Shee would not hold out enemy for ever
For giving it to me : well, peace be with you.
Ant. My Lord Baffanio, let him have the ring,
Let his defervings and my love withall
Be valued againſt your wives commandement.
Baf. Goe Gratiano, run and over-take him,
Give him the ring, and bring him if thou canſt
Vnto Anthony his houſe, away, make hafte.
Come, you and I will thither pfeiſently,
And in the morning early will we both
Flye toward Belmont, come Anthony.
Exeunt.

Enter Portia, and Neriffa.
Por. Enquire the Iewes houſe out, give him this deed,
And let him ſigne it; we'll away to night,
And be a day before our husbands home :
This deed will be well welcome to Lorenzo.
Enter Gratiano.
Gra. Faire fir, you are well ore-tane :
My L. Baffanie upon more advice,
Hath ſent you heere this ring, and doth intreat
Your company at dinner.
Por. That cannot be;
His ring I doe accept moſt thankefully,
And fo I pray you tell him : furthermore,
I pray you ſhew my youth old Shylocke's houſe.
Grati. That will I doe.
Ner. Sir, I would ſpeake with you :

11e

182

The Merchant of Venice.

Ile see if I can get my husbands ring
Which I did make him fware to keepe for ever.

Por. Thou maift I warrant, we shall have old fwearing
That they did give the rings away to men;
But weele out-face them, and out-fware them too:
Away, make haſte, thou know'ſt where I will tarry.

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

Exeunt.

Actus Quintus.

Enter Lorenzo and Ieflica:

Lor. The moone ſhines bright. In fuch a night as this,
When the fweet winde did gently kiffle the trees,
And they did make no noſe, in fuch a night
Troyllus we thinkes mounted the Trojan wall,
And ſigh'd his foule toward the Grecian tents
Where Crefled lay that night.

Ief. In fuch a night.

Did Thisby carefully ore-trip the dewe,
And ſaw the Lyons ſhadow cre himſelfe,
And ranne diſmayed away.

Loren. In fuch a night

Stood Dido with a Willow in her hand
Vpon the wilde ſea bankes, and waſt her Love
To come againe to Carthage.

Ief. In fuch a night

Medea gathered the inchanted hearbs
That did renew old Efson.

Loren. In fuch a night

Did Iefſica ſteale from the wealthy Jewe,
And with an Vthrift Love did runne from Venice,
As farre as Belmont.

Ief. And in fuch a night.

Did young Lorenzo (weare he lov'd her well, |
Stealing her foule with many vowes of faith,
And ne'le a true one.

Loren. And in fucha night

Did pretty Iefſica (like a little ſhow)

Slander her Love, and he forgave it her.

Ief. I would out-night you did no body come :
But harke, I heare the footing of a man.

Enter Messenger.

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

Mef. A friend.

(friend ?)

Loren. A friend, what friend ? your name I pray you
Mef. Stephano is my name, and I bring word

My Miftreſſe will before the breake of day
Be heere at Belmont, ſhe doth ſtray about
By holy croſſes where the kneecles and prayes
For happy wedlocke houres.

Loren. Who comes with her ?

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

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

And ceremoniouſly let us prepare
Some welcome for the Miftreſſe of the houſe.

Enter Clowne.

Clo. Sola, ſola: wo ha ho, ſola, ſola-

Loren. Who calls?

Clo. Sola, did you ſee M. Lorenzo, and M. Lorenzo, ſola,

Ler. Leave hollowing man, here.

(tola.)

Clo. Sola, where, where ?

Lor. Heere ?

Clo. Tell him ther's a Poſt come from my Maſter, with
his horne full of good newes, my Maſter will be here ere
morning fweet love.

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

My friend Stephano ſignifie pray you
Within the houſe, your Miftreſſe is at hand,
And bring your muſique forth into the ayre.

How fweet the moone-light fleepes upon this banke,
Heere will we fit, and let the founds of Muſicke
Creepe in our eares; ſoft ſtillnes, and the night
Become the rutches of fweet harmony :

Sit Iefſica, looke how the floore of heaven
Is thickc inlayed with patterns of bright gold,
There's not the ſmallest orbe which thou beheldst
But in his motion like an Angell firg's,

Still quiring to the young eyed Cherubins;

Such harmony is in immortal ſoules,

But whilſt this muddy veſture of decay
Doth groſſly cloſe in it, we cannot heare it:
Come hoe, and wake Diana with a hymne,
With fweeteſt rutches pearce your Miftreſſe eare,
And draw her home with muſicke.

Iefſi. I am never merry when I heare fweet muſique.

Play muſicke.

Lor. The reaſon is, your ſpirits are attentive:
For doe but note a wilde and wanton heard
Or race of youthfull and unhandled colts,
Fatching mad bounds, bellowing and neighing loud,
Which is the hot condition of their blond,
If they but heare perchance a trumpet found,
Or any ayre of muſicke touch their eares,
You ſhall perceive themake a mutuall ſtand,
Their favage eyes turn'd to a modeſt gaze,

By the fweet power of muſicke : therefore the Poet
Did faine that Orpheus drew teares, flones, and floods.
Since naught to flockiſh, hard, and full of rage,
But muſicke for the time doth change his nature,
The man that hath no muſicke in himſelfe,

Nor is not moved with concord of fweet founds,
Is fit for treaſons, ſtratagems, and ſpoyles,
The motions of his ſpirit are dull as night,

And his affections darke as Erebus,

Enter Portia and Neriffia.

For. That light we fee is burning in my hall :
How farre that little can dell throwes his beames,

So ſhines a good deed in a naughty world.

(dle?

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

A ſubſtitute ſhines brightly as a King

Vntilla King be by, and then his itate

Empties it ſelfe, as doth an inland brooke

Into the maine of waters : muſique, harke.

Muſicke.

Ner. It is your muſicke Madam of the houſe.

Por. Nothing is good I fee without reſpect,

Methinkes it founds much fweeter then by day?

Ner. Silence beſtowes that vertue on it Madam,

Por. The Crow doth ſing as fweetly as the Larke

When

The Merchant of Venice.

When neither is attended: and I thinke
The Nightingale if she should sing by day
When every Goofe is cackling, would be thought
No better a Muffitan then the Wren?

How many things by feafon, feafon'd are

To their right prafte, and true perfection :
Peace, how the Moone fleepes with Endimion,
And would not be awak'd

Mufickc ceafis.

Lor. That is the voyce,

Or I am much deceu'd of Portia.

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

Lor. Deere Lady welcome home ?

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

Lor. Madam, they are not yet :

But there is come a Melfenger before
To Signifie their comming,

Por. Goe in Nerriffia,

Give order to my ſervants, that they take
No note at all of our being afben hence,

Nor you Lorenzo, Ieffica nor you.

A Tucke ſounds.

Lor. Your husband is at hand, I heare his Trumpet,

We are no tell-tales Madam, feare you not.

Por. This night me thinkes is but the daylight ſique,
It lookse a little paler, 'tis a day.

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

Enter Baffanio, Antonio, Gratiano, and their
Followers.

Baf. We should hold day with the Antipodes,

If you would walke in abſence of the ſunne.

Por. Let me give light, but let me not be light,
For a light wife doth make a heavy husband,

And never be Baffanio to me,

But God fort all : you are welcome home my Lord.

Baf. I thanke you Madam, give we welcome to my friend
This is the man, this is Antonio,

Towhom I am to infinitely bound.

Por. You ſhould in all ſtance be much bound to him,

For as I heare he was much bound for you.

Aut. No more then I am well acquitted of.

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

It muſt appear in other ways then words,
Therefore I ſcant this breathing curſeſe.

Gra. By yonder Moone I ſweare you doe me wrong,

Inſaith I gave it to the Iudges Clearke,

Would he were gelt that had it for my part,
Since you doe take it Love ſo much at heart.

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

Gra. About a hoope of Gold, a paltry Ring

That he did give me, whoſe Poefie was
For all the world like Cutlers Poetry

Vpon a knife ; Love me, and leave me not.

Ngr. What talke you of the Poefie or the valew :

You ſwore to me when I did give it you,

That you would weare it till the houre of death,

And that it should lye with you in your grave,

Though not for me, yet for your vehement oaths,

You should have beene respective and have kept it.

Gave it a Iudges Clearke ; but well I know

The Clearke will ne're weare haire on's face that had it.

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

Ngr. If, if a Woman live to be a man.

Gra. Now by this hand I gave it to a youth,

A kind of boy, a little ſcrubbed boy,

No higher then thy ſelfe, the Iudges Clearke,

A prating boy that begg'd it as a Fee,

I could not for my heart deny it him.

Por. You were too blame, I muſt be plaine with you,
To part fo flightly with your wives firſt gift,

A thing ſtucke on with oathes upon your finger,

And ſo riveted with faith unto your ſleſh.

I gave my Love a Ring, and made him ſweare

Never to part with it, and heere he flands :

I dare be Iworne for him, he would not leave it,

Nor plucke it from his finger, for the wealth

That the world maſters. Now in faith Gratiano,

You give your wife too unkind a caufe of griefe?

And 'twere to me I should be mad at it.

Baf. Why I were beſt to cut my left hand off,

And ſweare I loft the Ring defending it.

Gra. My Lord Baffanio gave his Ring away

Vinto the Iudge that begg'd it, and indeed

Deferv'd it too : and then the Boy his Clearke

That tooke ſome paines in writing, he begg'd mine,

And neither man nor maſter would take ought

But the two Rings.

Por. What Ring gave you my Lord?

Not that I hope which you receiv'd of me.

Baf. If I could adde a lye unto a ſault,

I would deny it : but you fee my finger

Hath not the Ring upon it, it is gone.

Por. And even ſo voide is your ſalfe heart of truth.

By heaven I will ne're come in your bed

Vntill I fee the Ring.

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

Baf. Sweet Portia,

If you did know to whom I gave the Ring,

If you did know for whom I gave the Ring,

And would conceive for what I gave the Ring,

And how unwillingly I left the Ring,

When nought would be accepted but the Ring,

You would abate the ſtrength of your diſpleasure ?

Por. If you had knowne the vertue of the Ring,

Or halfe her worthinſe that gave the Ring,

Or your owne honour to containe the Ring,

Your would not then have parted with the Ring :

What man is there ſo much unreaſonable,

If you had pleas'd to have defended it

With any termes of Zeale : wanted the modeſty

To urge the thing held as a ceremony :

Nerriffia teaches me what to beleeve,

Ile dye for't, but ſome Woman had the Ring ?

Baf. No by mine honor Madam, by my ſoule

No Woman had it, but a civill Doctor,

Which did reſufe three thouſand Ducates of me,

And begg'd the Ring; the which I did deny him,

And ſuffer'd him to goe diſpleas'd away :

Even he that had held up the very life

Of my deere friend. What ſhould I ſay ſweet Lady?

I was inſor'd to ſend it after him,

I was beſet with ſhame and curſeſe,

My honor would not let in gratitude

So much beſmeare it. Pardon me good Lady,

And by theſe bleſſed Candles of the night,

Had you beene there, I thinke you would have begg'd

The Ring of me, to give thee worthy Doctor.

Q2

Por.

The Merchant of Venice.

184

Por. Let not that Doctor ere comineere my house,
Since he hath got the jewell that I loved,
And that which you did fweare to keepe for me,
I will become as liberall as you,
Ile not deny him any thing I have,
No, not my body, nor my husbands bed :
Know him I shall, I am well fure of it.
Lye not a night from home. Watch me like Argus,
If you doe not, if I be left alone,
Now by mine honor which is yet mine owne,
He have the Doctor for my bedfellow.

Ner. And I his Clarke : therefore be well advis'd
How you doe leave me to mine owne protection.

Gra. Well, doe you so : let not me take him then,
For if I doe, ile mar the yong Clarkes pen.

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

Por. Sir, grieve not you,

You are welcome notwithstanding.

Baf. Porius, forgive me this enforced wrong,
And in the hearing of these many friends
I fweare to thee, even by thine owne faire eyes

Wherein I see my selfe.

Por. Marke you but that ?

In both mine eyes he doubly sees himselfe :

In each eye one, I fweare by your double selfe,
And there's an oath of credit.

Baf. Nay, but heare me.

Pardon this fault, and by my foule I fweare

I never more will breake an oath with thee.

Anth. I once did lend my body for thy wealth,
Which but for him that had your husbands ring
Had quite mifcarried. I dare be bound againe,
My foule upon the forfeit, that your Lord
Will never more breake faith advifedly.

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

Ant. Heere, Lord Baffanio, I wear to keepe this ring.

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

Por. I had it of him : pardon Baffanio,

For by this ring the Doctor lay with me.

Ner. And pardon me my gentle Gratiano,
For that fame scrubbed boy the Doctors Clarke
In liew of this, laft night did lye with me.

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

Por. Speake not so groffely, you are all amaz'd;
Heere is a letter, reade it at your ley fure,
It comes from Padua from Bellario.

There you shall find that Portia was the Doctor,
Neriffia there her Clarke. Lorenzo here
Shall witnessle I fit forth as foone as you,
And but ev'n now return'd: I have not yet

Entred my house. Antonio you are welcome,

And I have better newes in flore for you

Than you expect : unfeale this letter foone,
There you shall find three of your Argosies

Are richly come to harbour todaynly.
You shall not know by what strange accident
I chanced on this letter.

Ant. I am dumbe.

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

Gra. Were you the Clarke that is to make me cuckold?

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

Baf. (Sweet Doctor) you shall be my bedfellow,
When I am abfent, thenlye with my wife.

Ant. (Sweet Lady) you have given me life and living,
For heere I reade for certaine that my ships
Are safely come to Rodes.

Por. How now Lorenzo?

My Clarke hath fome good comforts too for you.

Ner. I, and Ile give them him without a fee,
There doe I give to you and Jeflica

From the rich lew, a speciall deed of gift
After his death, of all he dyes posſed' d of.

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

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

Gra. Let it be so, the first intergatory
That my Neriffia shall be fworne on, is,
Whether till the next night he had rather stay,
Or goe to bed, now being two hours to day,
But were the day come, I should with it darke,
Till I were couching with the Doctors Clarke.
Well, while I live, Ile feare no other thing
So fore, as keeping faſe Neriffas ring.

Excell.ii.

FINIS.

185

As you like it.

Actus Primus. Scena Prima.

Enter Orlando and Adam.

Orlando.

AS I remember Adam, it was upon this fashion bequeathed me by will, but a poore thousand Crownes, and as thou faist, charged my brother on his bleffing to breed me well: and there begins my adneffe: My brother Jaques he keepes at schoole, and report (speakes goldenly of his profit: for my part, he keepes me rufitually at home, or (to speake more properly) layes me heere at home unkept: for call you that keeping for a gentleman of my birth, that differs not from the falling of an Oxe? his horres are bred better, for befides that they are faire with their feeding, they are taught their mannage, and to that end Riders deereely hir'd: but I (his brother) gaine nothing under him but growth, for the which his Animals on his dungehils are as much bound to him as I: befides this nothing that he fo plentifully gives me, the fomething that nature gave me, his countenance feemés to take from me: he lets me feede with his Hindes, barres me the place of a brother, and as much as in him lyes, mines my gentility with my education. This is it Adam that grieves me, and the fpirit of my Father, which I thinke is within me, begins to mutiny againft this fervitude. I will no longer endure it, though yet I know no wife remedy how to avoid it.

Enter Oliver.

Adam. Yonder comes my Mafter, your brother.

Orlan. Goe apart Adam, and thou shalt heare how he will shake me up.

Oli. Now Sir, what make you heare ?

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

Oli. What marre you then fir ?

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

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

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

Oli. Know you where you are fir ?

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

Oli. Know you before whom fir ?

Orla. I, better then him. I am before, knowes me: I know you are my eldeth brother, and in the gentle condition of bloud you should fo know me: the courteie of nations allowes you my better, in that you are the firft borne, but the fame tradition takes not away my bloud, were there twenty brothers betwixt us: I have as much

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

Oli. What Boy.

(this.

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

Oli. Wilthou lay hands on me villaine?

Orla. I am no villaine: I am the yongeft fonne of fir Rowland de Boyes, he was my father, and he is thrice a villaine that fayes fuch a father begot villaines: wert thou not my brother, I would not take this hand from thy throat, till this other had puld out thy tongue, for faying fo, thou haſt raild on thy ſelfe,

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

Oli. Let me goe I fay.

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

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

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

Oli. Get you with him, you old dogge.

Adam. Is old dogge my reward: moſt true, I have loft my teeth in your ſervice: God be with my old maſter, he would not have ſpoke fuch a word. Ex. Orl. Ad.

Oli. Is it even fo, begin you to grow upon me? I will phyſicke your ranckenſeſſe, and yet give no thousand crownes neither: holla Dennis.

Enter Dennis.

Den. Calls your worſhip.

Oli. Was not Charles thr Dukes Wraſſle heere to ſpeake with me?

Den. So pleafe you, he is heere at the doore, and importunes acceſſe to you.

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

Enter Charles.

Char. Good morrow to your worſhip.

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

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

Lords

186

As you like it.

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

Oli. Can you tell if Rofalind the Dukes daughter be banifhed with her Father ?

Cha. O no; for the Dukes daughter her Cefen so loves her, being ever from their Cradles bred together, that he would have followed her exile, or have died to flyt behind her; he is at the Court, and no leffe beloved of her Vncle, then his owne daughter, and never two Ladies loved as they doe.

Oli. Where will the old Duke live ?

Cha. They fay he is already in the Forreft of Arden, and a many merry men with him; and there they live like the old Robin Hood of England: they fay many yong Gentlemen flocke to him every day, and fleet the time careleſt as they did in the golden world.

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

Charl. Marry doe I fir: and I came to acquaint you with a matter: I am given fir secretly to understand, that your younger brother Orlando hath a difposition to come in difguis'd againſt me to try a fall: to morrow fir I wrafter for my credit, and he that efcapes me without fome broken limbe, ſhall acquit him well: your brother is but young and tender, and for your love I would bee loth to foyle him, as I muſt for my owne honour if he come in: therefore out of my love to you, I came hither to acquaint you withall, that either you might flyt him from his intendment, or brooke ſuch difgrace well as he ſhall runne into, in that it is a thing of his owne ſearch, and altogether againſt my will.

Oli. Charles, I chanke thee for thy love to me, which thou ſhalt find I will moſt kindly requite: I had my ſelfe notice of my Brothers purpofe herein, and have by under-hand meanes laboured to diſwade him from it; but he is refolute. Ile tell thee Charles, it is the flubborneſt yong fellow of France, full of ambition, an envious emulator of every mans good parts, a ſecret and villanous contriver againſt me his naturall brother: therefore uſe thy diſcretion, I had as lieſe thou didſt breake his necke as his finger. And thou wert beſt looke to't; for if thou doſt him any flight diſgrace, or if he doe not mightily grace himſelfe on thee, he will practife againſt thee by poyſon, entrap thee by ſome treacherous devife, and never leave thee till he hath tane thy life by ſome indirect meanes or other: for I auſure thee, (and almost with teares I ſpeake it) there is not one ſo young, and ſo villanous this day living. I ſpeake but brotherly of him, but ſhould I anathomize him to thee, as he is, I muſt bluſh, and weepe, and thou muſt looke pale and wonder.

Cha. I am heartily glad I came hither to you: if hee come to morrow, Ile give him his payment: if ever he goe alone againe, Ile never wrafter for prize more: and fo God keepe your worſhip.

Exit.

Oli. Farewell good Charles. Now will I ſtirre this Gameſter: I hope I ſhall fee an end of him; for my foule (yet I know not why) hates nothing more then he: yet he's gentle, never ſchool'd, and yet learned, full of noble devife, of all forts enchantingly beloved, and indeed ſo much in the heart of the world, and eſpecially of my owne people, who beſt know him, that I am altogether miſprifed: but it ſhall not be ſo long, this wrafter ſhall cleare all: nothing remaines, but that I kindle the boy thither, which now I goe about.

Exit.

## Scæna Secunda.

### Enter Rofalind, and Celia.

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

Rof. Deere Celia; I show more mirch then I am miftreſe of, and would you yet were merrier: unleſſe you could teach me to forget a banifhed father, you muſt not learne mee how to remember any extraordinary pleasure.

Cel. Hereein I fee then lov't meen not with the full waight that I love thee; if my Vncle thy banifhed father had banifhed thy Vncle the Duke my Father, to thou hadt beene ſtill with me, I could have taught my love to take thy father for mine; ſo would I thou, if the truth of thy love to me were ſo righteouſly temper'd, as mine is to thee.

Rof. Well, I will forget the condition of my eſtate, to rejoyce in yours.

Cel. You know my Father hath no child, but I, nor none is like to have, and truely when he dies, thou that be his heire? for what he hath taken away from thy father perſorce, I will tender thee againe in affection: by mine honour I will, and when I breake that oath, let me turne monſter: therefore my ſweet Rofe, my deare Rofe, be merry.

Rof. From henceforth I will Coz, and devife ſports: let me fee, what thinke you of falling in Love ?

Cel. Marry I prethee doe, to make ſport withall: but love no man in good earneſt, nor no further in ſport neyther, then with faſety of a pure bluſh, thou maſt in hon nor come off againe.

Rof. What ſhall be our ſport then ?

Cel. Let us ſit and mocke the good houſwife Fortune from her wheelc, that her gifts may henceforth be beſtowed equally.

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

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

Rof. Nay now thou goeſt from Fortunes office to Naures: Fortune reignes in gifts of the world, not in the lineaments of Nature.

### Enter Clowne.

Cel. No: when Nature hath made a faire creature, may he not by Fortune fall into the fire ? though nature hath given us wit to flout at Fortune, hath not Fortune ſent in this foole to cut off the argument ?

Rof. Indeed there is fortune too hard for nature, when fortune makes naures naturall, the cutter off of naures wit.

Cel. Peradventure this is not Fortunes worke neither, but Natures, who perceiving our naturall wits too dull to reaſon of ſuch goddeſſes, hath ſent this Naturall for our whetſtone: for alwayes the duſneſſe of the foole, is the whetſtone of the wits. How now Witte, whither wander you?

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

Cel. Were you made the meſſenger ?

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

Rof.

As you like it.

187

Ref. Where learned you that oath foole?

Clo. Of a certaine Knight, that fwere by his Honour they were good Pancakes, and fwere by his Honour the Muſtard was naught: Now I stand to it, the Pancakes were naught, and the Muſtard was good, and yet was not the Knight forſworne.

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

Ref. I marry, now unmuzzle you wifedome.

Clo. Stand you both forth now: I ftoke your chinnes, and I ware by your beards that I am a knave.

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

Clo. By my knavery (if I had it) then I were: but if you fwere by that that is not, you are not forſwornne more was this knight ſwearing by his Honour, for he never had any; or if he had, he had ſworne it away, before ever he faw thate Pancakes, or that Muſtard.

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

Clo. One that old Ferdericke your Father loves.

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

Clo. The more pitty that fooles may not ſpeake wifely, what Wifemen doe foolifhly.

Cel. By my broth thou faieſt true: For, ſince the little wit that fooles have was ſilenced, the little foolery that wifemen have makes a great ſhew; Here comes Mounfieur Le Ben.

Enter Le Ben.

Ref. With his mouth full of newes.

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

Ref. Then ſhall we be newes-cram'd.

Cel. All the better: we ſhallbe the more marketable.

Bom-jour Mounſier le Ben, what the newes?

Le Ben. Faire Princeſe,

You have loſt much good ſport.

Cel. ſport: of what colour?

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

Ref. As wut and fortune will.

Clo. Or as the deſtinies decrees.

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

Clo. Nay, it I keepe not my ranke.

Ref. Thou loofeſt thy old ſmell.

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

Ref. Yet tell us the manner of the Wraſtling.

Le Ben. I will tell you the beginning: and if it ſpeake your Ladiſhips, you may fee the end, for the beſt is yet to doe, and here where you are, they are comming to performe it.

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

Le Ben. There comes an old man, and his three fons.

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

Le Ben. Three proper yong men, of excellent growth and prefence.

Ref. With bills on their neckes: Be it knowne unto all men by theſe prefents.

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

ders take his part with weeping.

Ref. Alas.

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

Le Ben. Why this that I ſpeake of.

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

Cel. Or I, I promife thee.

Ref. But is there any ſelfe long to fee this broken Mounſicke in his ſides? Is there yet another doates upon rib-breaking? Shall we fee this wraſtling Cofin?

Le Ben. You muſt if you ſlay here, for here is the place appointed for wraſtling, and they are ready to performe it.

Cel. Yonder ſure they are comming. Let us now ſlay and fee it.

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

Duk. Come on, ſince the youth will not be intreated, His owne perill on his forwardneſſe.

Ref. Is yonder the man?

Le Ben. Even he, Madam.

Cel. Alas, he is too yong: yet he lookes ſucceſſefully.

Du. How now daughter, and Cofin:

Are you crept hither to fee the wraſtling?

Ref. I my Liede, ſo plicaſe you give us leave.

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

Cel. Call him hither good Mounſieur Le Ben.

Duk. Doe ſo: I he not by.

Le Ben. Mounſieur the Challenger, the Princeſſe calls for you.

Orla. I attend them with all reſpect and dacy.

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

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

Cel. Yong Gentleman, your ſpirits are too bold for your yeares: you have ſeen e cruell proofe of this mans ſtrength, if you faw your ſelfe with your eyes, or knew your ſelfe with your judgement, the ſeare of your adventure would counſell you to a more equall enterprife. We pray you for your owne ſake to embrace your owne faſety, and give over this attempt.

Ref. Doe yong Sir, your reputation ſhall not therefore be miſprifed: we will make it our ſuite to the Duke, that the wraſtling might not goe forward.

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

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

Cel.

As you like it.

189

in despight of a fall: but turning these jefts out of service,
let us talk in good earneſt: Is it poſſible on such a fo-
daine, you should fall into ſo ſtrong a liking with old Sir
Roulands yongeſt ſonne?

Ref. The Duke my Father lov'd his Father deereely.

Cel. Doth it therefore enſue that you ſhould love his
Sonne deereely ? By this kind of chafe, I ſhould hate him,
for my father hated his father deereely ; yet I hate not Or-
lande.

Ref. No faith, hate him nor for my ſake.

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

Enter Duke with Lords.

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

Cel. With his eyes full of anger.

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

Ref. Me Vnckle !

Duk. You Cofen,

Within these ten dayes if that thou beeff found
So neere our publike Court as twenty miles,
Thoudieſt for it.

Ref. I doe beſeech your Grace

Let me the knowledge of my fault beare with me :
If with my ſelfe I hold intelligence,
Or have acquaintance with mine owne defires,
If that I doe not dreame, or be not franticke,
(As I doe truſt I am not) then deere Vnckle,
Never ſo much as in a thought unborne,
Did I offend your highneſſe.

Duke. Thus do all Traitors,

If their purgation did confiſt in words,
They are as innocent as grace it ſelfe;
Let it ſuſſice thee that I truſt thee not.

Ref. Yet your miftruſt cannot make me a Traitor ;

Tell me whereon the likelikood depends?

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

Ref. So was I when your highneſſe tooke his Dakdome,
So was I when your highneſſe banifhed him;
Trefaon is not inherited my Lord,
Or if we did derive it from our friends,
What's that to me, my Father was no Traitor :
Then good my Leige, miſtake me not ſo much,
To thinke my poverty is treacherons.

Cel. Deere Soveraigne heare me ſpeake.

Duk. I Celia, we flaid her for your ſake,
Elſe had the ſhe with her Father rang'd along.

Cel. I did not then intreat to have her flay.
It was your pleasure, and your owne remorſe,
I was too young that time to value her,
But now I know her : if the ſhe be a Traitor,
Why foam I; we ſtill have flept together,
Rofe at an inflant, learn'd, plaid, cate together,
And whereofre we went, like Junos Swans,
Still we went coupled and inſeparable.

Duk. Shee is too ſubtle for thee, and her ſmoothnes
Her very ſilence, and her patience,
Speake to the people, and they pitty her :
Thou art a ſoole, the ſobs thee of thy name,
And thou wilt flow more bright, and ſeeme more vertu-
When the ſhe is gone : then open not thy lips,
Firme, and irrevocable is my doome,
Which I have paſt upon her, the ſhe is banifh'd.

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

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

Exit Duke, &c.

Cel. O my poore Rofaline, whither wilt thou goe ?

Wilt thou change father ? I will give thee mine :
I charge thee be not thou more grieu'd then I am.

Ref. I have more cauſe.

Cel. Thou haſt not Cofen,
Prethee be cheerfull ; know'ſt thou not the Duke
Hath banifh'd me his daughter?

Ref. That he hath not.

Cel. No, hath not ? Rofaline lacke's then the love
Which teacheth thee that thou and I am one,
Shall we be fundred ? ſhall we part ſweet girle ?
No, let my Father feeke another heire :
Therefore devife with me how we may flye
Whither to goe, and what to beare with us,
And doe not feeke to take your charge upon you,
To beare your griefes your ſelſe, and leave me out :
For by this heaven (now at our forrowes pale ;)
Say what thou canſt, Ile goe along with thee.

Ref. Why, whither ſhall we goe?

Cel. To feeke my Vnckle in the Forreſt of Arden.

Ref. Alas, what danger will it be to us,
(Maides as we are) to travell for farre ?

Beauty provoketh theeſees ſooner then gold,

Cel. Ile put my ſelfe in poore and meane attire,
And with a kind of vmbre ſmitch my ſace,
The like do you, ſo ſhall we paſſe along,
And never fir affaillants.

Ref. Were it not better,
Becaufe that I am more then common tall,
That I did ſuite me all points like a man,
A gallant curtelax upon my thigh,
A boreſpeare in my hand, and in my heart
Lye there what hidden womans ſeare there will,
Weele have a ſwafhing and a marſhall outside,
As many other mannith cowards have,
That doe outface it with their ſemblances.

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

Ref. Ile have no worſe a name then Ioves owne Page,
And therefore looke you call me Ganimed,
But what will you be cali'd ?

Cel. Something that hath a reference to my ſlate :
No longer Celia, but Aliena.

Ref. But Cofen, what if we aſſaid to ſteale
The downſiſh Foole out of your Fathers Court :
Would he not be a comfort to our travaile?

Cel. Heele goe along ore the wide world with me,
Leaue me alone to wooe him; Let'saway
And get our Iewels and our wealth together,
Devife the ſitteſt time, and ſaſeſt way
To hide us from purſuite that will be made
After my flight : now goe we in content
To liberty, and not to banifhment.

Exeunt.

Actu. Secundus. Scæna Prima

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

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

Then

190

As you like it.

Then that of painted peme? Are not thefe woods
More free from perill then the envious Court?
Heere feele we not the penalty of Adams,
The feafons difference, as the Icie phange
And churlifh chiding of the winters winde,
Which when it bites and blowes upon my body
Even till I shrinke with cold, I fmile, and fay
This is no flattery : thefe are counfellors
That feelingly perfwade me what I am :
Sweet are the vles of adverfity
Which like the toad, ously and venemous,
Weares yet a precious lewell in his head :
And this our life exempt from publike haunt,
Findes tongues in trees, bookes in the running brookes,
Sermons in fones, and good in every thing.

Amien. I would not change it, happy is your Grace
That can translate the flubberneſle of fortune
Into fo quiet and fo fweet a flile.

Duk. Sen. Come, fhall we goe and kill us venifon?
And yet it irkes me the poore dapled fooles
Being native Burgers of this defert City,
Should in their owne confines with forked heads
Have their round hanches goard.

1. Lord. Indeed my Lord
The melancholy Jaques grieves at that,
And in that kind ſwears you doe more uſurpe
Then doth your brother that hath batiſh'd you :
To day my Lord of Amiens, and my ſelfe,
Did ſteale behind him as he lay along
Under an oake, whole anticke roope peepes out
Vpon the brooke that brawles along this wood,
To the which place a poore ſequeſtred Stag
That from the Hunters ayme had tane a hurt,
Did come to languifh, and indeed my Lord
The wretched animall heav'd forth ſuch groanes
That their diſcharge did ſtretch his leatherne coat
Almoſt to burſting, and the big round teares
Cours'd one another downe his innocent noſe
In pitteous chafe : and thus the hairy ſoole,
Much marked of the melancholy Jaques,
Stood on th' extremelt verge of the ſwift brooke,
Augmenting it with teares.

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

1. Lord. O yes, into a thouſand ſimilies.
First, for his weeping into the needleſle ſtreame ;
Poore Deere quoth he, thon mak' it a teftament
As worldlings doe, giving thy ſum of more
To that which had too much : then being alone,
Left and abandoned of his velvet friend ;
'Tis right quoth he, thus miſery doth part
The Fluxe of company : anon a careleſſe Heard
Full of the pafure, jumps along by him
And never ſlayes to greet him : I quoth Jaques,
Sweepe on you fat and greazy Citizens,
'Tis juſt the fahion ; wherefore doe you looke
Vpon that poore and broken bankrupt there ?
Thus moſt inveſtively he pierceth through
The body of the Country, City, Court,
Yea, and of this our life, (wearing that we
Are meere uſurpers, tyrants, and what's worſe
To fright the Animals, and to kill them up
In their affign'd and native dwelling place.)

Du. Sen. And did you leave him in this contemplation?
2. Lord. We did my Lord, weeping and commenting
Vpon the fobbing Deere.

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

1. Lor. Ile bring you to him ſtrait.

Exeunt.

## Scena Secunda.

Enter Duke, with Lords.

Duk. Can it be ſoffible that no man faw them ?
It cannot be, ſome villaines of my Court
Are of content and ſufferance in this.

1. Lord. I cannot heare of any that did fee her,
The Ladies her attendants of her chamber
Saw her a bed, and in the morning early,
They found the bed untrefaſ'd of their Miftris.

2. Lord. My Lord, the roynſh Clowne, at whom ſo off,
Your Grace was want to laugh, is almo ſtilling:
Hippria the Princeſte Gentlewoman
Conſeffes that ſhe ſecreſtly ore-heard
Your daughter and her Cofen much commend
The parts and graces of the Wraſſer
That did but lately ſoile the ſynowy Charles,
And ſhe beleeves where ever they are gone
That youth is ſurely in their company.

Duk. Send to his brother, fetch that gallant hither,
If he be absent, bring his Brother to me,
Ile make him find him : doe this ſo da�ely ;
And let not ſearch and inquifition quale,
To bring againe theſe ſoolſh runawayes.

Exeunt.

## Scena Tertia.

Enter Orlando, and Adam.

Orl. Who's there ?

Ad. What my yong maſter, ,oh my gentle maſter,
Oh my ſweeet maſter, O you memory
Of old Sir Rowland ? why, what make you here ?
Why are you vertuous ? Why doe people love you ?
And wherefore are you gentle, ſtrong, and valiant ?
Why would you be ſo fond to overcome
The bonny prifer of the humorous Duke ?
Your praire is come too ſwifly home before you.
Know you not Maſter, to ſome kind of men,
Their graces ſerve them but as enemies,

No more doe yours : your vertues gentle Maſter
Are ſanctified and holy traitors to you :
Oh what a world is this, when what is comely
Envenoms him that beares it ?

Orl. Why, what's the matter ?
Ad. O unhappy youth,
Come not with theſe doores : within this rooſe
The enemy of all your graces lives
Your brother, no, no brother, yet the ſonne
(Yet not the ſon, I will not call him ſon)
Of him I was about to call his Father,
Hath heard your praires, and this night he meanes,
To burme the lodging where you uſe to lye,
And you within it : if he faile of that

He

As you like it.

191

He will have other meanes to cut you off;
Ioverheard him : and his practices :

This is no place, this houfe is but a butchery;
Abhorre it, fear it, doe not enter it.

Orl. Why whither Adam would it thou have me goe?

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

Orl. What, would it thou have me goe and beg my
Or with a safe and boiftrous Sword enforce
A theevish living on the common rode ?

This I muft doe, or know not what to doe :
Yet this I will not doe, doe how I can,
I rather will tubject me to the malice
Of a diverted blood, and bloudy brother.

Ad. But doe not so : I have five hundred Crownes;
The thrifty hire I fav'd under you father,
Which I did faire to be my foster Nurfe,

When fervice should in my old limbes lye lame,
And unregarded age in corners throwne,
Take that, and he that doth the Ravens feede,
Yea providently caters for the Sparrow,
Be comfort to my age : here is the gold,
All this I give you, let me be your fervant,
Though I looke old, yet I am strong and lufly ;
For in my youth I never did apply

Hot, and rebellious liquors in my bloud,
Nor did not with unbathfull forehead woe,
The meanes of weakenefle and debility,
Therefore my age is as a lufly winter;
Frofly, but kindly ; let me goe with you,
Ile doe the fervice of a younger man
In all your bufineſſe and neceſſities.

Orl. Oh good old man, how well in thee appears
The conſant fervice of the antique world,
When ſervice ſwate for duty, not for meede :
Thou art not for the faſhion of theſe times,
Where none will ſwate, but for promotion,
And having that doe choake their ſervice up,
Even with the having, it is not ſo with thee :
But poore old man, thou prunſt a rotten tree,
That cannot ſo much as a bloſſome yeeld,
In lieu of all thy paines and husbandry,
But come thy wayes, weele goe along together,
And cre we have thy youthfull wages ſpen,
Weele light upon ſome fetled low content.

Ad. Maſter goe on, and I will follow thee
To the laſt galpe with truth and loyalty,
From ſeventy yeeres, till now almoſt ſourefcore
Here livened I, but now live here no more.

At ſeventeene yeeres, many their fortunes ſeeke
But at ſourefcore, it is too late a weeke,
Yet fortune cannot recompence me better

Then to dye well, and not my Maſters debter.

Exeunt.

## Scena Quarta.

Enter Rofaline for Ganimed, Celia for Aliena, and
Clowne, alias Touchstone.

Rof. O Iaſpiter, how merry are my ſpirits?

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

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

the weakeſt veſſell, as doubtlet and hofe ought to flow it
ſelfe coragious to petty-coate ; therefore courage, good
Aliena.

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

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

Rof. Well, this is the Forreſt of Arden.

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

Enter Corin, and Silvius.

Rof. I, be so good Touchſtone : looke you, who comes
here, a yong man and an old inſolme talke.

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

Sil. Oh Corin, that thou knewſt how I doe love her.

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

Sil. No Corin, being old, thou canſt not gueſſe,
Though in thy youth thou waſt as true a lover,

As ever fight'd upon a midnight pillow :

But if thy love were ere like to mine,

As sure I thinke did never man love ſo :

How many actions moſt ridiculous,

Haſt thou beene drawne to by thy fantafie?

Cor. Into a thouand that I have forgotten.

Sil. Oh thou didt then never love ſo hartily.
If thou remembreſt not the flighte ſtolly,

That ever love did make thee runne into,

Thou haſt not lov'd.

Or if thou haſt not ſate as I doe now,

Wearying thy hearer in thy Miftris praife,

Thou haſt not lov'd.

Or if thou haſt not broke from company,

Abruptly as my paſſion now makes me,

Thou haſt not lov'd.

O Phebe, Phebe, Phebe.

Exeunt.

Rof. Alas poore Shepheard! ſearching of their wound,
I have by hard adventure found mine owne.

Clo. And I mine : I remember when I was in love, I
broke my fword upon a ſhone, and bid him take that for
comming a nights to Jane ſmile, and I remember the kif-
ſing of her batlet, and the Cowes dugs that her pretty
chopt hands had milk'd; and I remember the wooing
of a peafowd instead of her, from whom I tooke two
cods, and giving her them againe, faid with weeping
teares, weare theſe for my ſake: we that are true Lovers,
runne into ſtrange capers; but as all is mortall in nature,
ſo is all nature in love, mortall in folly.

Thou ſpeak't ſt wiser then thou art ware of.

Clo. Nay, I ſhall ne're be ware of mine owne wit, till
I breake my thins againſt it.

Rof. Iove, Iove, this Shepheard's paſſion,
Is much upon my ſaſhion.

Clo. And mine, but it growes ſometing ſtale with
me.

Cel. I pray you, one of you queſtion you'd man,
If he for gold will give us any fooſe,
I faint almoſt to death.

Rof. Holla ; you Clowne.

Rof. Peace foole, he's not thy kinfman.

Cor. Who cals?

Clo. Your betters Sir.

Cor. Elſe are they very wretched.

Rof.

As you like it.

192

Ref. Peace I say; good even to you friend.
Cor. And to you gentle Sir, and to you all.
Ref. I prethee Shepheard, if that love or gold
Can in this defert place buy entertainment,
Bring us where we may reft our felves, and feed :
Here's a yong maid with travaile much oppreffed,
And faints for fuccour.
Cor. Faire Sir, I pitty her,
And with for: her fake more then for mine owne,
My fortunes were more able to releeve her :
But I am ſheph heard to another man,
And doe not ſhcre the Fleeces that I graze :
My mafter is of churlifh diſpoſition,
And little wreakes to find the way to heaven
By doing deeds of hofpitality.
Befides his Coate, his Flockes, and bounds of feede
Are now on fale, and at our ſheep-coat now
By reafon of his abſence there is nothing
That you will feed on: but what is, come fee,
And in my voyce moſt welcome ſhall you be.
Ref. What is he that ſhall buy his flocke and pafture?
Cor. That yong Swaine that you faw heere but ere-
while.
That little cares for buying any thing.
Ref. I pray thee, if it ſtand with honefy,
Buy thou the Cottage, pafture, and the flocke,
And thou ſhalt have to pay for it of us.
Cel. And we will mend thy wages:
I like this place, and willingly could
Waſte my time in it.
Cor. Affuredly the thing is to be ſold:
Goe with me, if you like upon report,
The ſoile, the profit, and this kind of life,
I will your very faithfull Feeder be,
And buy it with your gold right fodainely.

Exeunt.

## Scena Quinta.

Enter, Amyens, Iaques, and others.
Song.
Under the greene wood tree,
who loves to lye with me,
And turne his merry Note,
unto the ſweet Birds thr ote :
Come hither, come hither, come hither :
Heere ſhall he ſee no enemy,
But Winter and rough Weather.

Iaq. More, more, I prethee more.
Amy. It will make you melancholly Mounfieur Iaques
Iaq. I thanke it: More, I prethee more,
I can fucke melancholly out of a ſong.
As a Weazel fuckes egges: More, I prethee more.

Amy. My voyce is ragged, I know I cannot pleafe you.
Iaq. I doe not defire you to pleafe me,
I doe defire you to ſing :

Come, more, another itanzo : Call you'em flanzo's ?
Amy. What you will Mounfieur Iaques.

Iaq. Nay, I care not for their names, they owne me
nothing. Will you ſing.

Aym. More at your requeſt, then to pleafe my ſelfe.

Iaq. Well then, if ever I thanke any man, Ile thanke

you: but that they call complement is like th'encounter
of two dog-Apes. And when a man thankes me harsil,
me thinkes I have given him a peny, and he renders me
the beggerly thankes. Come ſing, and you that will not,
hold your tongues.

Amy. Well, Ile end the ſong. Sirs, cover the while,
the Duke will drinke under this tree; he hath beene all
this day to looke you.

Iaq. And I have beene all this day to avoyd him :
He is too difputable for my company :
I thinke of as many matters as he, but I give
Heaven thankes, and make no boaſt of them.
Come, warble, come.

Song. Altogether heere.
Who doth ambition ſhunne,
and loves to live'st h' Sunne,
Seeking the food he eates,
and pleas'd a wish what he gets:
Come hither, come hither, come hither,
Heere ſhall he ſee, &c.

Iaq. Ile give you a verſe to this note,
That I made yefterday in deſpight of my invention.

Aym. And ile ſing it.

Iaq. Thus it goes.
If it doe come to pafſe, that any man turne Aſſe:
Leaving his wealth and eafe,
A stubborne will to pleafe,
Ducdame, ducdame, ducdame :
Heere ſhall he ſee, groſſe fooles as be,
And if he will come to me.

Aym. What's that Ducdame ?
Iaq. 'Tis a Greeke invocation, to call fooles into a ci-
cle. Ile goe sleepe if I can : if I cannot, Ile raile againſt all
the firſt borne of Egypt.

Aym. And Ile goe feeke the Duke,
His banket is prepar'd.

Exeunt.

## Scena Sexta.

Enter Orlando, and Adam.

Adam. Deere Maſter, I can goe no further:
O I dye for food. Heere lye I downe,
And meaſure out my grave. Farwell kind maſter.

Orl. Why how now Adam ? No greater heart in thee!
Live a little, comfort a little, cheere thy ſelfe a little.
If this uncouth Forreft yeeld any thing lavage,
I will either be food for it, or bring it for foode to thee:
Thy conceite is neerer death, then thy powers.
For my fake be comfortable, hold death a while
At the armes end: I will heere be with thee preſently,
And if I bring thee not ſomething to eat,
I will give thee leave to dye: but if thou dieth
Before I come, thou art a mocker of my labour.
Well faid, thou look'ſt cheerely,
And Ile be with thee quickly: yet thou lieſt
In the bleake ayre. Come, I will beare thee
To ſome ſhelter, and thou ſhalt not dye
For lacke of a dinner,

If there live any thing in this Desert.
Cheerely good Adams.

Exeunt.
Scena

As you like it.

## Scena Septima.

Enter Duke Sen. & Lord, like out-lawes.

Du. Sen. I thinke he be transform'd into a beaft,
For I can no where finde him, like a man.

1. Lord. My Lord, he is but even now gone hence,
Heere was he merry, hearing of a Song.

Du. Sen. If he compact of larres, grow Musical,
We shall have shortly disford in the Spheares :
Go seeke him, tell him I would speake with him.

Enter Iaques.

1. Lord. He faves my labor by his owne approach.

Du. Sen. Why how now Monfieur, what a life is this
That your poore friends muft wooe your companie,
What you looke merrily.

Iaq. A Foole, a foole : I met a foole i'th Forreft,
A motley Foole (a miferable world:)

As I do live by food, I met a foole,
Who laid him downe, and bask'd him in the Sun,
And rail'd on Lady Fortune in good termes,
In good fet termes, and yet a motley foole.

Good morrow foole (quoth I:) no Sir, quoth he,
Call me not foole, till heaven hath lent me fortune,
And then he drew a diall from his poake,
And looking on it, with lacke-lufte eye,
Sayes, very wifely, it is ten a clocke :

Thus we may ice (quoth he) how the world wagges:

Tis but an houre agoe, since it was nine,
And after one houre more, 'twill be eleven,
And fo from houre to houre, we ripe, and ripe,
And then from houre to houre, we rot, and rot,
And thereby hangs a tale. When I did heare
The motley Foole, thus morall on the time,
My Lungs began to crow like Chanticleere,
That Fooles should be so deepe contemplative :

And I did laugh, fans intermiſion

An houre by his diall. Oh noble foole,

A worthy foole : Motley's the only weare.

Du. Sen. What foole is this?

Iaq. O wortlie foole : One that hath bin a Courtier
And fayes, if Ladies be but young, and faire,
They have the gift to know it: and in his braine,
Which is dry as the remainder bisket

After a voyage: He hath fraigne places cram'd
With obſervation, the which he vents
In mangled formes. O that I were a foole,
I am ambitious for a motley coat.

Du. Sen. Thou fhalt have one.

Iaq. It is my only ſuſe,
Provided that you weed your better judgements
Of all opinion that growes ranke in them,
That I am wife. I muſt have liberty.

Withall, as large a Charter as the winde,
To blow on whom I pleafe, for ſo fooles have :

And they that are moſt gauled with my folly,
They moſt muſt laugh : And why fir muſt they ſo
The why is plaine, as way to Parifh Church :

He, that a foole doth very wifely hit,
Doth very foolishly, although he ſmart

See me fenſeleſſe of the bob. If not,

The Wife-mans folly is anathomiz'd

Even by the squandring glances of the foole.

Inveſt me in my motley : Give me leave

To speake my minde, and I will through and through
Ceanſe the fonle body of th' infected world,

If they will patiently receive my medicine.

Du. Sen. Fie on thee. I can tell what thou wouldſt do.

Iaq. What, for a Counter, would I do, but good?

Du. Sen. Moſt miſcheenous fonle fin, in chiding fin :
For thou thy ſelſe haſt ben a Libertine,

As ſenſuall as the brutiſh ſting it ſelſe,

And all th'imboſſed foreſes, and headed eviſs,

That thou with licenſe of free foot haſt caught,

Would it thou diſgorge into the generall world.

Iaq. Why who cries out on pride,

That can therein taxe any private partie :

Doth it not flow as hagely as the Sea,

Till that the wearie verie meanes do ebbe.

What woman in the Citie do I name,

When that I ſay the Cittie woman beares

The coſt of Princes on unworthie ſhoulders ?

Who can come in, and ſay that I meane her,

When ſuch a one as he, ſuch is her neighbour?

Or what is he of bafeſt function,

That ſayes his braverie is not on my coſt,

Thiaking that I meane him, but therein ſuites

His folly to the mettle of my ſpeech,

There then, how then, what then, let me ſee wherein

My tongue hath wrong'd him : if it do him right,

Then he hath wrong'd himſelſe : if he be free,

Why then my taxing like a wild-goofe flies

Vnclain'd of any man. But who comes here?

Enter Orlando.

Orl. Forbeare, and eateno more.

Iaq. Why I have eate none yet.

Orl. Nor ſhalt not, till neceſſitie be ſeru'd.

Iaq. Of what kinde ſhould this Cocke come of?

Du. Sen. Art thou thus bolden'd man by thy diſtrefes?
Or else a rule deſpifer of good manners,

That in ciuility thou ſeem'st ſo empty?

Orl. You touch'd my veine at firſt, the thornie point

Of bare diſtreſſe, that hath tane from me the ſlew

Of ſmooth civilitie : yet am I in-land bred,

And know ſome nourture : Bnt forbeare, I ſay,

He dies that touches any of this ſruite,

Till I, and my affaires are anſwered.

Iaq. And you will not be anſwer'd with reaſon,
I muſt dye.

Du. Sen. What would you have?

Your gentlenefle ſhall force, more then your force
Move us to gentlenefle.

Orl. I almoſt die for food, and let me have it.

Du. Sen. Sit downe and feed, & welcome to our table

Orl. Speake you ſo gently? Pardon me I pray you,
I thought that all things had beene favage heere,

And therefore put I on the countenance
Of ſterne command'ment. But what ere you are

That in this defert inaceſſible,

Under the ſhade of melancolly boughes,

Loofe, and neglect the creeping houres of time :

If ever you have look'd on better dayes :

If ever beene where bels have knoſt to Church :

If ever fate at any good mans ſeaf :

If ever from your eye-lids wip'd a teare,

And know what 'tis to pittie, and be pittied :

Let gentlenefle my ſtrong enforcement be,

In the which hope, I bath, and hide my Sword.

R

Duke

494

As you like it.

Du. Sen. True is it, that we have feene better dayes,
And have with holy bell bin knowld to Church,
And fat at good mens feafts, and wip'd our eyes
Of drops, that sacred pitty hath engendred :
And therefore fit you downe in gentlenesse,
And take upon command, what helpe we have
That to your wanting may be miniftred,

Orl. Then but forbear your food a little while :
Whiles (like a Doe) I go to finde my Fawne,
And give it food. There is an old poore man,
Who after me, hath many a wearie steppe.
Limpt in pure love : till he be firſt ſuſic'd,
Oppreft with two weake evils, age, and hunger,
I will not touch a bit.

Du. Sen. Go finde him out,
And we will nothing waſte till you returne.
Orl. I thanke ye, and be bleſt for your good comfort.
Du. Sen. Thou feeſt, we are not all alone unhappie :
This wide and vniverſall Theater
Prefents more wofull Pageants then the Sceane
Wherein we play in.

Ia. All the world's a ſtage,
And all the men and women, meerely Players;
They have their Exits and their Entrances,
And one man in his time plaies many parts,
His Aſts being ſeven ages. At firſt the Infant,
Mewling, and puking in the Nurſes armes :
Then, the whining Schoole-boy with his Satchell
And ſhining morning face, creeping like aſnaſe
Vnwillingly to Schoole. And then the Lover,
Sighing like Furnace, with a wofull ballad
Made to his Miftrefſe eye-brow. Then a Soldier,
Full of ſtrange oathes, and bearded like the Pard,
Ielous in honor, ſodaine, and quicke in quarrell,
Seeking the bubble Reputation
Even in the Canons mouth: And then, the Iuſtice
In faire round belly, with good Capon lin'd,
With eyes ſevere, and beard of formall cut,
Full of wife ſawes, and moderne inſtances,
And ſo he playes his part. The fixt age ſhifts
Into the leane and flipper'd Pantraloone,
With ſpectacles on noſe, and pouch on ſide,
His youthfull hoſe well fav'd, a world too wide;
For his ſhrunke ſhanke, and his bigge manly voyce,
Turning againe toward childiſh trebble pipes,
And whoiftles in his found. Laſt Scene of all,
That ends this ſtrange eventfull hiftorie,
Is ſecond childiſhneſſe, and meere oblivion,
Sans teeth, fans eyes, fans taſte, fans every thing.

Enter Orlando with ſe Adam.

Du. Sen. Welcome : fet downe your venerable burthen,
and let him feed.

Orl. I thanke you moſt for him.
Ad. So had you neede,
I ſcaring can ſpeake to thanke you for my ſelfe.
Du. Sen. Welcome, fall too : I will not trouble you,
As yet to queſtion you about your fortunes :
Give us ſome muſicke, and good Cozen, ſing.

Song.

Blow, blow, thou winter winde,
Thou art not so wuſkinde, as man's inguatiuſtua
Thy tooth is not ſokene, because thou art not ſeens;
althoſt thy breath be rude.

Heigh ho, ſing heigh ho, unto the greene holly,
Moft friend/ship, is faying; moſt Loving, unser ſolly:
The heigh ho, the holly,
This Life is moſt iolly,

Freize, freize, thon bitter skie that doſt not bight ſonigh
as benefits for got :
Though thon the waters warpe, thy ſing is not ſo sharpe,
as friend remembred not.
Heigh ho, ſing etc.

Duke Sen. If that you were the good Sir Rowlands ſon,
As you have whifper'd faithfully you were,
And as mine eye doth his eſſigies witneſſe,
Moft truely limn'd, and living in your face,
Be truely welcome hither : I am the Duke
That lov'd your Father: the rerefue of your fortune,
Go to my Cave, and tell me. Good old man,
Thou art right welcome, as thy Maſter is :
Support him by the armes : give me your hand,
And let me all your fortunes underſtand.

Exeunt.

Actus Tertius. Scæna Prima.

Enter Duke, Lords, & Oliver.

Du. Not fee him ſince? Sir, firſt, that cannot be :
But were I not the better part made mercie,
I should not fee an abſent argument
Of my revenge, thou preſent : but looke to it,
Finde out thy brother where ſoere he is,
Seeke him with Candle : bring him dead, or living
Within this tweluemoneth, or turne thou no more
To feeke a living in our Territorie.
Thy Lands and all things that thou doſt call thine,
Worth ſeizure, do we ſeize into our hands,
Till thou canſt quit thee by thy brothers mouth,
Of what we think e againſt thee.

Ol. Oh that your Highneſſe knew my heart in this:
I never lov'd my brother in my life.

Duke. More villaine thou. Well, pufh him out of dores
And let my officers of ſuch a nature
Make an extent upon his Houſe and Lands :
Do this expediently, and turne him going.

Exeunt.

Scæna Secunda.

Enter Orlando.

Orl. Hang there my verſe, in witneſſe of my love,
And thou thrice crowned Queene of night ſurvey
With thy chaſſe eye, from thy pale ſpheare above
Thy Huntrefſe name, that my full life doth ſway.
O Reſalind, theſe Trees ſhall be my Bookes,
And in their barkes my thoughts Ile charaſter,
That every eye, which in this Forreſt lookes,
Shall fee thy vertue witneſt every where
Run, run Orlando, carve on every Tree,
The faire, the chaſſe, and unexpreſſive ſhe.

Exeunt.

Enter Cerin & Clavone.
Co. And how like you this shepherds life Mr Touchſhent? Cl.

As you like it.

195

Clou. Truely Shepheard, in respect of it selfe, it is a good life; but in respect that it is a shepheard's life, it is naught. In respect that it is solitary, I like it very well: but in respect that it is private, it is a very vild life. Now in respect it is in the fields, it pleafeth me well: but in respect it is not in the Court, it is tedious. As it is a rare life (looke you) it fits my humor well: but as there is no more plentie in it, it goes much againſt my ſtomacke. Has't any Philofophie in thee shepheard?

Cor. No more, but that I know the more one ſickens, the worſe at cafe he is: and that hee that wants mony, means, and content, is without three good friends. That the propertye of raine is to wet, and fire to burne: That good falure makes fat ſheepe: and that a great cauſe of the night, is lacke of the Sunne: That hee that hath learned no wit by Nature, nor Art, may complaine of good breeding, or comes of a very dull kindred.

Clo. Such a one is a natural Philofopher: Was't ever in Court, Shepheard?

Cor. No truly.

Clo. Then thou art damn'd.

Cor. Nay, I hope.

Clo. Truly thou art damn'd; like an ill roaſted Egge, all on one fide.

Cor. For not being at Court ? your reaſon.

Col. Why, if thou never was't at Court, thou never faw't good manners: if thou never faw't good manners, then thy manners muſt be wicked, and wickedneses is fin, and finne is damnation: Thou art in a parlous ſtate shepheard.

Cor. Not a whit Touch ſhone, that are good maners at the Court, are as ridiculous in the Countrey, as the behaviour of the Countrie is moſt mockable at the Court. You told me, you ſalute not at the Court, but you kiffe your hands; that courteſe would be uncleanly if Courtiers were shepheard.

Clo. Inſtance, briefly: come, inſtance.

Cor. Why we are full handling our Ewes, and their Fels you know are greaſe.

Clo. Why doe not your Courtiers hands ſw[e]eate ? and is not the greaſe of Mutton, as wholeſome as the fweat of a man? Shallow, ſhallow: A better inſtance I ſay: Come.

Cor. Besides, our hands are hard.

Clo. Your lips will feele them the sooner. Shallow agen: a more founder inſtance, come.

Cor. And they are often tarr'd over, with the ſurgery of our ſheepe: and would you have us kiffe Tarre ? The Courtiers hands are perfumed with Civet.

Clo. Moſt ſhallow man: Thou wormes meate in respect of a good piece of ſleſh indeed: leane of the wife and perpend: Civet is of a baſer birth then Tarre, the verie uncleanly fluxue of a Cat. Mend the inſtance Shepheard.

Cor. You have too Courtly a wit, for me, Ile reſt.

Clo. Wilt thou reſt damn'd? God helpe thee ſhallow man: God make inciſion in thee, thou art raw.

Cor. Sir, I am a true Labourer, I earne that I eate: get that I wear; owe no man hate, envie no mans happineſe: glad of other mens good, content with my harme: and the greatest of my pride, is to fee my Ewes graze, and my Lambes fucke.

Clo. That is another ſimple ſinne in you, to bring the Ewes and the Rammes together, and to offer to get your living, by the copulation of Cattle, to be bawd to a Bel徵 weather, and to betray a ſhee-Lambe of a twelvemonth

to a crooked-pated olde Cuckoldly Ramme, out of all reaſonable match. If thou bee't not damn'd for this, the divell himſeſe will have no ſhepheard, I cannot fee eſſe how thou ſhouſt ſcape.

Cor. Heere comes young M. Ganimed, my new Mitrifſes Brother.

Enter Rofalind.

Rof. From the east to western Inde,
no jewell is like Rofalinde,

His worth being mounted on the winde,
through all the World beares Rofalinde.

All the pictures faireſt Linde,
are but blacke to Rofalinde:

Let no face be kept in minde,
but the faire of Rofalinde.

Clo: Ile rime you so, eight yeares together; dinners, and ſuppers, and ſleeping hours excepted: it is the right Butter-womens ranke to Market.

Rof. Out Foole.

Clo. For a taſte.

If a Hart doe lacke a Hinde.

Let him ſeeke out Rofalinde:

If the Cat will after kinde,
ſo be ſure will Rofalinde:

Wintred garments muſt be Linde,

ſo muſt ſlender Rofalinde:

They that reap muſt ſheafe and binde,
then to cart with Rofalinde.

Sweeteſt nut, bath ſowreſt rinde,
such a nut is Rofalinde.

He that sweeteſt roſe will finde,
muſt finde Loves pricke, & Rofalinde.

This is the very ſalſe gallop of Verſes, why doe you inſeet your ſelſe with them?

Rof. Peace you dull foole, I found them on a tree.

Clo. Truly the tree yelds bad fruite.

Rof. Ile graſſe it with you, and then I ſhall graſſe it with a Medler: then it will be the earlieſt fruit in'th country: for you'l be rotten ere you be halſe ripe, and that's the right vertue of the Medler.

Clo. You have faid: but whether wifely or no, let the Forreſt judge.

Enter Celia with a writing.

Rof. Peace, here comes my fifth reading, ſland afide,

Cel. Why ſhould this Deſert bee,
for it is unpeopled ? Noe:

Tonges Ile hang on every tree,
that ſhall civil ſayings (noe).

Some how briefe the Life of man
runs his erring pilafirages,

That the stretching of a ſpan,
buckles in his ſumme of age.

Some of violated vows,
twixt the ſoules of friend, and friend,

But upon the faireſt bowes,
or at every ſentent end;

Will I Rofalinda write,
teaching all that reade, to know

The quinteſſence of every ſpry,
beaven would in little ſhow.

Therefore heaven Nature charge'd,
that one body (would be full'd

With all Graces wide enlarg'd,
nature preſently diſtill'd

R 2

Helen

As you like it.

196

Helens cheeks, but not his heart,
Cleopatra's Majestie:
Attalanta's better part,
fad Lucrecia's Modestie.
Thus Rosalinde of many parts,
by Heavenly Synode was devis'd,
Of manie faces, eyes, and hearts,
to have the touches dereft pris'd.
Heaven would that she these gis should have,
and I to live and die her slave.

Ref. O moft gentle Iupiter, what tedious Homilie of
Love have you wearied your parifhioners withall, and ne-
ver cride, have your parifhiones withall, and never cride,
have patience good people.

Cel. How now I backe friends: Shepheard go off a lit-
tle: go with him farrah.

Clo. Come shepheard, let us make an honourable re-
treit, though not with bagge and baggage, yet with fcrip
and fcrippage.

Cel. Didst thou heare thefe verſes ?

Ref. O yes, I heard them all, and more too, for some
of them had in them more feete then the Verſes would
beare.

Cel. That's no matter: the feet might beare the Verſes.

Ref. I, but the feet were lame, and could not beare
themfelves without the verſe, and therefore flood lamely
in the verſe.

Cel. But didst thou heare without wondring, how thy
name should be hang'd and carved upon theſe trees?

Ref. I was feaven of the nine dayes out of wonder, be-
fore you came : for looke here what I found on a Palme
tree; I was never so berim'd ſince Pythagoras time that I
was an Irifh Rat, which I can hardly remember.

Cel. Tro you, who hath done this?

Ref. Is it a man?

Cel. And a chaine that you once wore, about his neck :
change you colour?

Ref. I pre'thee who?

Cel. O Lord, Lord, it is a hard matter for friends to
meet; but Mountaines may be remoov'd with Earth-
quakes, and ſo encounter.

Ref. Nay, but who is it?

Cel. Is it poffible?

Ref. Nay, I pre'thee now, with moſt petitionary ve-
hemence, till me who it is.

Cel. O wonderfull, wonderfull, and moſt wonderfull
wonderfull, and yet againe wonderfull, and after that out
of all hooping.

Ref. Good my compleſation, doſt thou thinke though
I am caparifon'd like a man, I have a doublet and a hofe in
my diſpoſition? One inch of delay more, is a South-ſea
of diſcoverie. I pre'thee tell me, who is it quickly, and
ſpeake apace: I would thou couldſt flammer, that thou
mightſt powre this conceal'd man out of thy mouth, as
Wine comes out of a narrow-mouth'd bottle: either too
much at once, or none at all. I pre'thee take the Corke
out of thy mouth, that I may drinke thy tydings.

Cel. So you may put a man in your belly.

Ref. Is he of Gods making ? What manner of man ?
Is his head worth a hat? Or his chin worth a beard ?

Cel. Nay, he hath but a little beard.

Ref. Why God will tend more, if the man will bee
thankefull; let me flay the growth of his beard, if thou
delay me not the knowledge of his chin.

Cel. It is young Orlando, that tript up the Wraſtlers
heeles, and your heart, both in an inflant.

Ref. Nay, but the divell take mocking: ſpeak e fadde
brow, and true maid:

Cel. I'faith (Coz) tis he,

Ref. Orlando?

Cel. Orlando.

Ref. Alas the day, what ſhall I do with my doublet and
hofe? What did he when thou faw'ft him? What fayde
he? How look'd he? Wherein went he? What makes he
heere? Did he aske for me? Where remaines he? How
parted he with thee? And when ſhalt thou fee him a-
gaine? Anſwer me in one word.

Cel. You muſt borrow me Gargantuaes mouth firſt:
t'is a Word too great for any mouth of this Ages ſize,
to ſay I and no, to theſe particulars, is more then to anſwer
in a Catechifme.

Ref. But doth he know that I am in this Forreſt, and
in mans apparell? Looks he as freshly, as he did the day
he Wraſted?

Cel. It is as eafie to count Atomies as to reſolve the
proſpositions of a Lover: but take a taſte of my finding
him, and reſtill it with good obſervance. I found him
under a tree like a drop'd Acorne.

Ref. It may well be cal'd Ioves tree, when it droppes
forth ſuch fruite.

Cel. Give me audience, good Madam.

Ref. Proceed.

Cel. There lay hee stretch'd along like a Wounded
knight.

Ref. Though it be pittie to fee ſuch a fight; it well be-
comes the ground.

Cel. Cry holla, to the tongue, I prethee: it curnettes
unfeafonably. He was furniſh'd like a Hunter,

Ref. O ominous, he comes to kill my Hart.

Cel. I would ſing my ſong without a burthen, thou
bring't me out of tune.

Ref. Do you not know I am a woman, when I thinke,
I muſt ſpeak e: ſweer, ſay on.

Enter. Orlando & Iaques.

Cel. You bring me out. Soft, comes he not neere?

Ref. 'Tis he, flinke by, and note him.

Iaq. I thanke you for your companie, but good faith
had as lieſe have beene my ſelfe alone.

Orl. And ſo had I: but yet for ſafion ſake
I thanke you too, for your ſocictie.

Iaq. God bay you, let's meet as little as we can.

Orl. I do define we may be better ſtrangers.

Iaq. I pray you marre no more trees with Writing
Love-songs in their barkes.

Orl. I pray you marre no more of my verſes with rea-
ding them ill-favouredly.

Iaq. Rosalinde is your loves name?

Orl. Yes, Iuſt.

Iaq. I do not like her name.

Orl. There was no thought of pleafing you when ſhe
was chriften'd.

Iaq. What ſtature is the ſe of?

Orl. Iuſt as highas my heart.

Iaq. You are full of pretty anſwers: have you not bin ac-
quainted with goldſmiths wives, &c, cond the out of rings.

Orl. Not: so: but I anſwer you right painted cloath,
from whence you have ſtudied you queſtions.

Iaq. You have a nimble wit; I thinke 'twas made of
Attalanta's heeles. Will you firſt downe with me, and
wee two will raile against our Miftris the world, and all
our miferie.

Orl. I will chide no breather in the world but my ſelfe
against

As you like it.

197

against whom I know no faults.

Iag. The worst fault you have, is to be in love.

Orl. 'Tis a fault I will not change, for your best vertue: I
am wearie of you.

Iag. By my troth, I was seeking for a Foole, when I
found you.

Orl. He is drown'd in the brooke, looke but in, and you
shall fee him.

Iag. There I shall fee mine owne figure.

Orl. Which I take to be either a foole, or a Cipher.

Iag. Ile tarrie no longer with you, farewell good Sign-
or Love.

Orl. I am glad of your departure: Adieu good Monsieur
Melancholie.

Ref. I will speake to him like a fawcie Lackie, and un-
der that habit play the knaue with him: do you heare For-


Orl. Verie wel, what would you ? (refter.

Ref. I pray you, what i'th a clocke?

Orl. You should ask me what time o'day : ther's no
clocke in the Forreft.

Ref. Then there is no true Lover in the Forreft; else
fighting every minute, and groaning every hour would
detect the lazie foote of time, as well as a clocke.

Orl. And why not the swift foote of time ? Had not
that bin as proper ?

Ref. By no meanes fir; Time travels in divers paces,
with diverse perons: Ile tell you who Time ambles with-
all, who Time trots withhall, who time gallops withhall, and
who he stands still withhall.

Orl. I prethee, whom doth he trot withhall?

Ref. Marry he trots hard with a young maid, between
the contract of her marriage, and the day it is solemniz'd:
the interim be but a fermight, Times pace is so hard, that
it feemest the length of leaven yeare.

Orl. Who ambles time withhall?

Ref. With a Priest that lackes Latine, and a rich man
that hath not the Gowt : for the one sleepes eafily be-
caufe he cannot study, and the other lives merrily, because
he feelest no paine : the one lacking the burthen of leane
and waltefull Learning; the other knowing no bur-
then of heavie tedious penurie. Thefe time ambles
withhall.

Orl. Whom doth he gallop withhall?

Ref. With a theefe to the gallowes : for though hee
goes as faftily as foot can fall, he thinkes himselfe too foome
there:

Orl. Whom Whaies it still withhall?

Ref. With Lawiers in the vacation : for they sleepe be-
tweene Terme and Terme, and then they perceive not
how time moves.

Orl. Where dwell you pretty youth?

Ref. With this Shepheardeffesse my fter : heere in the
skirts of the forreft, like fringe upon a petticoat.

Orl. Are you native of this place ?

Ref. As the Connie that you fee dwell where fhees is
kindled.

Orl. Your accent is something finer , than you could
purchafe in ſo removed a dwelling.

Ref. I have bin told fo of many : but indeed, an old re-
ligious Vnkle of mine taught me to speake, who was in
his youth an inland man, one that knew Courtship too
well : for there he fell in love. I have heard him read ma-
ny Lecturs against it, and I thanke God, I am not a Wo-
man to be touch'd with fo many giddie offences as he hath
generally tax'd their whole ſex withhall,

Orl. Can you remember any of the principall evils,

that he laid to the charge of women?

Ref. There were none principall, they were all like
one another, as halfepence are, every one fault feeming
montrous, till his fellow-fault came to match it.

Orl. I prethee recount fome of them.

Ref. No: I will not caſt away my pleyſick, but on thofe
that are ſicke. There is a man haunts the Forreſt, that a-
bufes our yong plants with carving Rofalind on their
borkes; hangs Odes upon Hauthornes, and Elegies on
brambles; all (forfooth) deifying the name of Rofalind.
If I could meet that Fancie-monger, I would give him
fome good confuell, for he ſeemes to have the Quotidian
of Love upon him.

Orl. I am ſie that is ſo Love-ſhak'd, I pray you tell me
your remedie.

Ref. There is none of my Vnckles markes upon you:
he taught me how to know a man in love : in which cage
of rufhes, I am ſure you are not pronoher.

Orl. What were his markes ?

Ref. A leane cheeke, which you have not : a blew eye
and funken, which you have not : an unqu editionable ſpi-
rit, which you have not : a beard neglected, which you
have not : (but I pardon you for that, for ſimply your ha-
ving no beard, is a younger brothers revennew ) then your
hoſe ſhould be ungarter'd, your bonnet unbanded, your
ſleeve unbutton'd, your ſhooe until'd, and every thing
about you, demonſtrating a careſſe defolation : but you
are no ſuch man; you are rather point device in your ac-
couſtrements, as loving your ſelfe, than ſeeming the Lo-
ver of any other.

(I Love.

Orl. Faire youth, I would I could make thee leevè

Ref. Me lebeeve it ? You may affoone make her that
you Love lebeeve it, which I warrant ſhe is apter to do,
than to confefſe ſhe do's: that is one of the points, in the
which women ſtill give the lie to their confidences. But
in good ſooth, are you he that hangs the verſes on the
Trees, wherein Rofalind is ſo admired?

Orl. I ſware to thee youth, by the white hand of Rofalind,
I am that he, that unfortunate he.

Ref. But are you ſo much in love, as your rimes ſpeake?

Orl. Neither rime nor reaſon can expreſſe how much.

Ref. Love is meerely a madneſſe, and I tell you, de-
ferves as well a darke houſe, and a whip, as madmen do :
and the reaſon why they are not ſo puniſh'd and cured, is
that the Lunacie is ſo ordinarie, that the whippers are in
love too: yet I proſeſſe curing it by counſell.

Orl. Did you ever cure any ſo?

Ref. Yes one, and in this manner. He was to imagine
me his Loue, his Miftris : and I fet him every day to
wooe me. At which time would I, being but a mooniſh
youth, greeve, be effeminate, changeable, longing, and li-
king, proud, fantaſicall, apſiph, ſhallow, inconitant, full
of teares, full of ſmiles ; for every paffion ſomething, and
for no paffion truly any thing, as boyes and women are for
the moſt part, cattle of this colour : would now like him,
now loath him: then entertaine him, then forſweare him:
now weepe for him, then ſpit at him ; that I drave my
Suter from his mad humor of love, to a living humer of
madnes, which was to forſweare the full ſtreame of the
world, and to live in a nooke merrly Monaſtick: and thus
I cur'd him, and this way will I take upon me to waſh
your Liver as cleare as a found ſheeps heart, that there ſhal
not be one ſpot of loue in't.

Orl. I would not be cured, youth.

Ref. I would cure you, if you would but call me Rofalind,
and come every day to my Coat, and wooe me.

R 3

Orl.

198

As you like it.

Orlan. Now by the faith of my love, I will; Tell mee where it is.

Ref. Go with me to it, and Ile flew it you: and by the way, you shall tell me, where in the Forreit you live: Will you goe?

Orl. With all my heart, good youth.

Ref. Nay, you muft call me Refalind: Come filter will you goe? Exeunt.

## Scena Tertia.

Enter Clowne, Audrey, & Jaques.

Clo. Come apace good Audrie, I will fetch up your Goates, Audrey: and how Awdrie am I the man yet? Doth my simple feature content you?

And. Your features, Lord warrant us: what features?

Clo. I am here with thee, and thy Goates, as the most capricious Poet honest Ovid was among the Gothes.

Iag. O knowledge ill inhabited, worfe then love in a thatch'd house.

Clo. When a mans verſes cannot be underſood, nor a man's good wit ſeconded with the forward childe, underſanding : it strikes a man more dead then a great reckoning in a little roome: truly, I would the Gods had made thee poeticall.

And. I do not know what Poeticall is: is it honest in deed and word : is it a true thing ?

Clo. No truly: for the trueſt poëtrie is the moſt faining, and Lovers are given to Poëtries and what they ſware in Poëtrie, may be ſaid as Lovers, they do ſeigne.

And. Do you wifh then that the Gods had made me Poeticall?

Clow. I do truly : for thou ſwear't to me thou art honest: Now if thou wert a Poet, I might have ſome hope thou didſt ſeigne.

Aud. Would you not have me honest?

Clo. No truly, unleſſe thou wert hard favour'd : for honestie coupled to beautie, is to have Honie a ſawc to Sugar.

Iag. A materiall foolc.

Aud. Well, I am not faire, and therefore I pray the Gods make me honest.

Clo. Truly, and to caſe away honestie upon a ſoule flut, were to put good meate into an uncleane diſh.

Aud. I am not a ſlute, though I thanke the Goddes I am ſoule.

Clo. Well, praifed be the Gods, for thy ſouleneſſe; flutſtishneſſe may come hereafter. But be it, as it may bee, I will marrie thee: and to that end, I have beene with Sir Oliver Mar-text, the Vicar of the next village, who hath promis'd to meete me in thisplace of the Forreſt, and to couple us.

Iag. I would faire ſee this meeting.

Aud. Well, the Gods give us joy.

Clo. Amen. A man may if he weare of a fearfull heart, flagger in this attempt : for heere wee have no Temple but the wood, no asſembly but horne-beaſts. But what though? Courage. As hornes are odious, they are neceſſarie. It is ſaid, many a man knowes no end of his goods; right: Many a man has good Hornes, and knowes no end of them. Well, that is the dowrie of his wife, 'tis none of his owne getting; hornes, even ſo poore men alone :

No, no, the nobleſt Deere hath them as huge as the Rafcal: Is the ſingle man therefore bleſſed? No, as a wall'd Towne is more worthier then a village, ſo is the ſorehead of a married man, more honourable then the bare brow of a Batcheller: and by how much defence is better then no skill, by ſo much is a horne more precious then to want.

Enter Sir Oliver Mar-texts.

Heere comes Sir Oliver: Sir Oliver Mar-text you are well met. Will you diſpatch us heere under this tree, or ſhall we goe with you to your Chappell?

Ol. Is there none here to give the woman?

Clo. I will not take her on guift of any man.

Ol. Truly the muſt bee given, or the marriage is not lawfull.

Iag. Proceed, proceede: Ile give her.

Clo. Good even good M. what ye ca't: how doe you Sir, you are verie well met: godild you for your laſt companye, I am verie glad to fee you, even a toy in land heere Sir : Nay, pray be cover'd.

Iag. Wif you be married, Motley?

Clo. As the Oxe hath his bow fir, the horſe his curb, and the Falkon her bele, ſo man hath his defires, and as Pigeons bill, ſo wedlocke would be nibling.

Iag. And will you (being a man of your breeding) bee married under a buſh like a begget? Get you to Church, and have a good Prief that can tell you what marriage is: this fellow will but joyne you together, as they joyne Wainſcot, then one of you will prove a ſhrunke pannell, and like greene timber, warpe, warpe.

Clo. I am not in the minde, but I were better to be married of him then of another, for he is not like to marrie me well : and not being well married, it will be a good excufe for me hereafter, to leave my wife.

Iag. Goe thou with me.

And let me counſell thee.

Clo. Come ſwere Audrie,

We muſt be married, or we muſt live in bandrey:

Farewell good M. Oliver: Not O ſweet Oliver, O brave Oliver leave me not behind thee: But winde away, be gone I fay, I will not to wedding with thee.

Ol. 'Tis no matter: Ne're a fantatitcal knave of them all shall flout me out of my calling. Exeunt.

## Scena Quarta.

Enter Refalind & Celia.

Ref. Never talke to me, I will weepe.

Cel. Do I prethee, but yet haue the grace to confider, that teares do not become a man.

Ref. But have I not cauſe to weepe ?

Cel. As good cauſe as one would deſire, Therefore weepe.

Ref. His very haire

Is of the diſlembing colour.

Cel. Something browner then Iuſdaffes:

Marrie his kiffes are Iuſdaffes owne children.

Ref. I'faith his haire is of a good colour.

Cel. An excellent colour :

Your Cheffenut was ever the only colour :

Ref. And his kiling is as full of ſanctitie, As the touch of holy bread.

Cel.

As you like it.

200

Actus Quartus. Scena Prima.

Enter Rosalind, and Celia, and Jaques.

Iaq. I prethee, pretty youth, let me be better acquainted with thee.

Ros. They fay you are a melancholly fellow.

Iaq. I am so: I doe love it better then laughing.

Ros. Thofe that are in extremity of either, are abhominable fellowes, and betray themfelves to every modemeftenure, worfe then drunkards.

Iaq. Why, 'tis good to be fad and fay nothing.

Ros. Why then 'tis good to be a pofte.

Iaq. I have neither the Schollers melancholy, which is emulation : nor the Mufitians, which is fantaficallyl; nor the Courtiers, which is proud : nor the Soudiers, which is ambitious; nor the Lawiers, which is politicke; nor the Ladies, which is nice : nor the Lovers, which is all thefe : but it is a melancholy of mine owne, compounded of many fimples, extracted from many objeſts, and indeede the fundrie contemplation of ray travels, in which my often rumination, wraps me in a moſt humorous fadneſſe.

Ros. A Traveller : by my faith you have great reason to be fad : I feare you have fold your owne Lands, to fee other mens; then to have ſeene much, and to have nothing, is to have rich eyes and poore hands.

Iaq. Yes, I have gain'd my experience.

Enter Orlando.

Ros. And your experience makes you fad: I had rather have a foole to make me merrie, then experience to make me fad, and to travaile for it too.

Orl. Good day, and happineſſe, deere Rosalind.

Orl. Nay, then God buy you, and you talke in blaſſe verfe.

Ros. Farewell Mounfier Travellor: looke you life, and weare ſtrange ſuites; diſable all the benefits of your own Countrie: be out of love with your nativity, & almoſt chide God for making you that countenance you are; or I will ſcare you thinke you have ſwam in a Gundello. Why how now Orlando, where have you bin all this while? you a lover? and you ſerve me ſuch another tricke, never come in my fight more.

Orl. My faire Rosalind, I come within an houre of my promife.

Ros. Breake an houres promife in love ? he that will divide a minute into a thouſand parts, and breake but a part of the thouſand part of a minute in the affair, of love, it may be faid of him that Cupid hath clapt him oth' houl der, but Ile warrant him heart hole.

Orl. Pardon me deere Rosalind.

Ros. Nay, and you be ſo tardy, come no more in my fight, I had as leife be woo'd of a Saile.

Orl. Of a Saile?

Ros. I, of a Saile: for though he comes flowely, hee carries his honſe on his head; a better joynſure I thinke then you make a woman: beſides, hee brings his definie with him.

Orl. What's that?

Ros. Why hornes: which ſuch as you are faine to be be holding to your wives for: but he come armed in his for-tune, and prevents the flander of his wife.

Orl. Vertue

Come Sifter: Shepheardeſſe, looke on him better And be not proud, though all the world could fee, None could be ſo abus'd in fight as he.

Come, to our flocke,

Exit.

Phe. Deed Shepheard, now I find thy ſaw of might, Who ever lov'd, that lov'd not at firſt fight?

Sil. Sweet Phebe.

Phe. Hah: what layſt thou Silvius?

Sil. Sweet Phebe, pitty me.

Phe. Why I am forry for thee gentle Silvius.

Sil. Where ever forrow is, relieſe would be :

If you doe forrow at my grieſe in love,

By giving love your forrow, and my grieſe

Were both extermin'd.

Phe. Thou haſt my love, is not that neighborly ?

Sil. I would have you.

Phe. Why that were covetouſneſſe :

Silvius; the time was, that I hated thee;

And yet it is not, that I beare thee love,

But ſince that thou canſt talke of love to well,

Thy company, which carſt was irkeſome to me

I will endure; and Ile employ thee too:

But doe not looke for further recompence

Then thine owne gladneſſe, that thou art employd.

Sil. So holy, and ſo perfect is my love,

And in ſuch a poverty of grace,

That I ſhall thinke it a moſt plentious crop

To gleane the broken eares after the man

That the maine harveſt reapes: loofe now and then

A scattered ſmile, and that Ile live upon. (while)

Phe. Knowſt thou the youth that ſpoketo mee yere-

Sil. Not very well, but I have met him oft,

And he hathe bought the Cottage and the bounds

That the old Carlot once was Maſer of.

Phe. Thinke not I love him, though I a ske for him,

'Tis but a peevifh boy, yet hee talkes well,

But what care I for words? yet words do well

When he that ſpeakes them pleafes thatheare:

It is a pretty youth, not very pretty,

But ſure hee's proud, and yet his pride becomes him;

Hee'll make a proper man: the beſt thing in him

Is his complexion : and after then his tongue

Did make offence, his eye did heale it up :

He is not very tall, yet for his yeares hee's stall:

His leg is but ſo ſo, and yet 'tis well :

There was a pretty redneſſe in his lip,

A little riper, and more luſtie red

Then that mixt in his cheeke: 'twas juſt the difference

Betwixt the conſtant red, and mingled Damaske.

There be ſome women Silvius, had they markt him

In parcells as I did, would have gone nere

To fall in love with him : but for my part

I love him not, nor hate him not: and yet

I have more caufe to hate him then to love him,

For what had he to doe to chide at me ?

He faid mine eyes were blacke and my haire blacke,

And now I am remembred, ſcorn'd at me :

I marvell why I anſwer'd not againe,

But that's all one: omittance is no quittance :

Ile write to him a very tanting Lettter,

And thou ſhalt beare it, wilt thou Silvius ?

Sil. Phebe, with all my heart.

Phe. Ile write it ſtrait :

The matter's in my head, and in my heart,

I will be better with him, and paſſing ſhort;

Goe with me Silvius.

Exeunt.

As you like it.

201

Orl. Vertue is no horne-maker: and my Rofalind is
vertuous.

Ref. And I am your Rofalind.

Cel. It pleafes him to call you fo: but he hath a Rofalind of a better leere then you.

Ref. Come, wooe me, wooe mee: for now I am in a
holy-day humor, and like enough to conſent: What
would you fay to me now, and I were your very, verie
Rofalinde?

Orl. I would kiffie before I spoke.

A Orl. Nay, you were better ſpeake firſt, and when you
were graveſd, for lacke of matter, you might take oc-
cafion to kiffie: verie good Orators when they are out,
they will ſpit, and for lovers, lacking (God wameus)
matter, the cleanlieſt ſtift is to kiffie.

Orl. How if the kiffle be denide ?

Ref. Then ſhe puts you to entreatie, and there begins
new matter.

Orl. Who could bee out, being before his beloved
Miftris?

Ref: Marrie that ſhould you if I were your Miftris, or
I ſhould thinke my honeſtie ranker then my wit.

Orl. What, of my ſuite?

Ref. Not out of your apparrell, and yet out of your
ſuite.

Am not I your Rofalinde?

Orl. I take ſome joy to ſay you are, becauſe I would be
talking of her.

Ref. Well, in her perſon, I fay I will not have you.

Orl. Then in mine owne perſon, I die.

Ref. No faith, die by Attorney: the poore world is
almost fix thousand yeres old, and in all this time there
was not any man dyed in his owne perſon (vindelict) in
a love caufe: Troilus had his braine dafh'd out with a
Grecian club, yet hee did what hee could to die before,
and he is one of the patterns of love. Leander, he would
have liv'd many a ſaire yeere though Hero had turn'd
Nun; if it had not beene for a hot Midomer-night, for
(good youth) hee went but forth to wath in the Hel-
leſpont, and being taken with the crampe, was droun'd, and
the foolish Chroniclers of that age, found it was Hero of
Seftos. But theſe are all lies, men have dyed from time to
time, and wormes have eaten them, but not for love.

Orl. I would not have my right Rofalind of this mind, for
I proteſt her frowne might kiſe me.

Ref. By this hand, it will not kill a ſlie: but come, now
I will be your Rofalind in a more comming-on diſpoſition:
and aske me what you will, I will grant it.

Orl. Then love me Rofalind.

Ref. Yes faith will I, Fridayes and Saturdayes,
and all.

Orl. And wilt thou have me?

Ref. I, and twentie ſuch.

Orl. What ſayſed thou?

Ref. Are you not good?

Orl. I hope fo.

Rofalind. Why then, can one define too much: of a
good thing: Come firſter, you ſhall bee the Prieft, and
marrie us: give me your hand Orlando: What doe you
fay ſuite?

Orl. Pray thee marry us.

Cel. I cannot ſay the words.

Ref. You muſt begin, will you Orlando?

Cel. Goe too: will you Orlando, have to wive this Rofalind?

Orl. I will.

Ref. I, but when?

Orl. Why now, as ſaſt as ſhe can marrie ns.

Ref. Then you muſt ſay, I take thee Rofalind for
wife.

Orl. I take thee Rofalind for wife.

Ref. I might aske you for your Comſeffion,

But I doe take thee Orlando for my husband: there's a
girl goes before the Prieft, and certainly a Womans
thought runnes before her actions.

Orl. So do all thoughts, they are wing'd.

Ref. Now tell me how long you would have her, after
you have poffet her?

Orl. For ever, and a day.

Ref. Say a day, without the ever: No, no Orlando, men
are April when they wooe, December when they wed:
Maides are May when they are maides, but the sky chan-
ges when they are wives: I will be more jealous of thee,
then a Barbary cocke-pidgeon over his hen, more cla-
morous then a Parrat againſt raine, more new-fangled
then an ape, more giddy in my defires, then a monkey: I
will weepe for nothing, like Drama in the Fountain, and
I will doe that when you are diſpos'd to bee merry: I
will laugh like a Hyen, and that when thou art inclin'd
to fleepe.

Orl. But will my Rofalind doe fo?

Ref. By my life, ſhe will doe as I doe.

Orl. O but ſhe is wife.

Ref. Or eſſe ſle could not have the wif to do this: the
wifer, the waywarder: make the doores upon a womans
wit, and it will out at the cafement: ſhut that, and 'twill
out at the key-hole: ſtop that, 'twill ſle with the finoake
out at the chimney.

Ref. A man that had a wife with ſuch a wif, he might
fay, wit whither will't?

Ref. Nay, you might keepe that checke for it, till you
met your wives wif going to your neighbours bed,

Orl. And what wif could wit have, to excufe that?

Ref. Marry to ſay, ſhe came to ſeeke you there: you ſhall
never take her without her anſwer, unless ſhe you take her
without her tongue: O that woman that cannot make her
fault her husbands occafion, let her never nurſe her childe
her ſelſe, for ſhe will breed it like a foole.

Orl. For theſe two hours Rofalind I will leave thee.

Ref. Alas, deere love, I cannot lacke thee two hours.

Ref. I muſt attend the Duke at dinner, by two a clocke
I will be with thee againe.

Ref. I, goe your wayes, goe your wayes: I knew what
you would prove, my freinds told me as much, and I
thought no leſſe: that flattering tongue of yours wonne
mee: 'tis but one caſt away, and ſo come death: two o'
clocke is your howre.

Orl. I fweet Rofalind!

Ref. By my troth, and in good earneſt, and ſo God
mend mee, and by all pretty oaths that are not dange-
rous, if you breake one jot of your promife, or come one
minute behinde your houre, I will thinke you the moſt
patheticall breake-promife, and the moſt hollow lover,
and the moſt unworthy of her your call Rofalinde, that
may bee cheſen out of the groſſe band of the unfaith-
full: therefore beware my cenſure, and keepe your pro-
mife.

Orl. With no leſſe religion, then if thou wert indeed
my Rofalind: ſo adieu.

Ref. Well, Time is the olde Iſtice that examines all ſuch
offenders, and let time try: adieu.

Cel. You have ſimply mifus'd our ſexe in your love-
prate:

As you like it.

A sheep-coat, fenc'd about with Olive-trees.

Cel. Weft of this place, downe in the neighbor bottome
The ranke of Oziers, by the murmuring treame
Left on your right hand, bring you to the place :
But at this houre the houſe doth keepe it ſelfe,
There's none within.

Oli. If that an eye may profit by a tongue,
Then should I know you by deſcription,
Such garments, and ſuch yeeres: the boy is faire,
Of female favour, and beſtowes him ſelſe
Like a ripe ſifter: But the woman low

And browner then her brother : are not you
The owner of the houſe I did enquire for?

Cel. It is no boast, being ask'd, to ſay we are.

Orl. Orlando doth commend him to you both,
And to that youth he calls his Rofalind,
He fends this bloody napkin; are you he ?

Rof. I am: what muſt we underſtand by this ?

Orl. Some of my ſhame, if you will know of me
What Man I am, and how, and why, and where
This handkercher was ſtain'd.

Cel. I pray you tell it.

Oli. When left the young Orlando parted from you,
He left a promife to returne againe

Within an houre, and pacing through the Forreſt,
Chewing the food off wort and bitter fancie,
Loe what befell: he threw his eye aſide,
And marke what object did preſent it ſelfe

Under an old Oake, whose bows were moſts'd with age,
And high top bald with drie antiquitie:

A wretched ragged man, ore-growne with haire
Lay ſleeping on his backe; about his necke
A greene and gilded ſnake had wreath'd it ſelfe,
Who with her head, nimble in threatens approach'd

The opening of his mouth; but ſodainely

Seeing Orlando, it unlink'd it ſelfe,
And with indented glides, did ſlip away
Into a bush, under whose buſhes ſhade
A Lyonneſſe, with udders all drawne drie,
Lay cowching head on ground, with catlike watch
When that the ſleeping man ſhould ſirre; for 'tis
The royall diſpoſition of that beaſt

To prey on nothing, that doth ſeemes as dead :
This ſeene, Orlando did approach the man,

And found it was his brother, his elder brother.

Cel. O I have heard him ſpeake of that fame brother,
And he did render him the moſt unnaturall
That liv'd amongſt men.

Oli. And well he might ſo doe,
For well I know he was unnaturall.

Rof. But to Orlando : did he leave him there
Food to the ſuck'd and hungry Lyonneſſe ?

Oli. Twice did he turne his backe and purpós'd ſo :
But kindneſſe, nobler ever then revenge,

And Nature ſtronger then his juſt occafion,
Made him give battle to the Lyonneſſe :

Who quickly fell before him, in which hurtling
From miferable ſlumber I awaked.

Cel. Are you his brother ?
Rof. Was't you he reſcu'd?

Cel. Was't you that did ſo oft contrive to kill him ?

Oli. 'Twas I : but 'tis not I : I doe not ſhame
To tell you what I was, ſince my converſion

So (w'eetly taſtes, being the thing I am.

Rof. But for the bloody napkin ?

Oli. By and by :

When from the firſt to laſt betwixt us two,
Teares our recountments had moſt kindly bath'd,

As how I came into that Deſert place.
In briefe, he led me to the gentle Duke,

Who gave me fresh array, and entertainment,
Committing me unto my brothers love.

Who led me inſantiy unto his Cave,
There ſtript him ſelſe, and heere upon his arme

The Lyonneſſe had torne ſome fleth away,

Which all this while had bled; and now he fainted,
And cride in fainting upon Rofalind.

Breeſe, I recover'd him, bound up his wound,
And after ſome ſmall ſpace, being ſtrong at heart,
He ſent me hither, ſtranger as I am.

To tell this ſtorie, that you might excufe

His broken promife, and to give this napkin
Died in his blood, unto the Shepheard youth,

That he in ſport doth call his Rofalind.

Cel. Why how now Ganimed, ſweet Ganimed.

Oli. Many will ſwoon when they do ſooke on bloud.

Cel. There is more in it; Cofen Ganimed.

Oli. Looke, he recovers.

Rof. I would I were at home.

Cel. Wee'll leade you thither:
I pray you will you take him by the arme.

Oli. Be of good cheere youth : you a man ?
You lacke a mans heart.

Rof. I doe ſo, I confefſe it:

Ah, firra, a body would thinke this was well counterfei-
ted, I pray you tell your brother how well I counterfeited
heigh-ho.

Oli. This was not counterfeit, there is too great te-
ſtimony in your complexion, that it was paſſion of ear-
neſt.

Rof. Counterfeit, I affure you.

Oli. Well then, take a good heart, and counterfeit to
be a man.

Rof. So I doe: but yfaith, I should have beene a woman
by right.

Cel. Come, you looke paler and paler : pray you draw
homewards : good fir, goe with us.

Oli. That will I: for I muſt beare anſwere backe

How you excufe my brother, Rofalind.

Rof. I ſhall devile ſomethin : but I pray you commend
my counterfeting to him : will you goe ?

Exeunt.

Actus Quintus. Scena Prima.

Enter Clowne and Awdrie.

Clo. We shall finde a time Awdrie, patience gentle
Awdrie.

Awd. Faith the Priſt was good enough, for all the
old gentlemans faying.

Clow. A moſt wicked Sir Olver, Awdrie., a moſt vile
Mar-text. But Awdrie, there is a youth here in the For-
reſt layes claime to you.

Awd. I, I know who'tis: he hath no intereſt in me in
the world: here comes the many you meane.

Enter William.

Clo. It is meat and drinke to me to fee a Clowne, by
my

204

As you like it.

my troth, we that have good wits, have much to anſwer
for: we ſhall be flouting: we cannot hold.

Will. Good eu'n *Audrey*.

*Aud.* God ye good eu'n *William*.

Will. And good eu'n to you Sir.

*Clo.* Good eu'n gentle friend. Cover thy head, cover thy head : Nay prethe be couer'd. How olde are you Friend?

Will. Five and twenty Sir.

*Clo.* A ripe age : Is thy name *William*?

Will. *William, fir.*

*Clo.* A faire name. Was't borne i'th Forreſt heere?

Will. I fir, I thanke God.

*Clo.* Thanke God : A good anſwer:

Art rich ?

Will. ²Faith fir, ſo, ſo.

*Clo.* So, ſo, is good, very good, very excellent good:
and yet it is not, it is but ſo, ſo?

Art thou wife ?

Will. I fir, I have a prettie wif.

*Clo.* Why, thou fayeſt well. I do now remember a fay-
ing: The foole doth thinke he is wife, but the wifeman
knowes himſelfe to be a Foole. The Heathen Philoſo-
pher, when he had a deſire to eate a Grape, would open
his lips when he put it into his mouth, meaning there-
by, that Grapes were made to eate, and lippes to open.

You do love this maid ?

Will. I do fir.

*Clo.* Give me your band : Art thou Learn'd?

Will. No fir.

*Col.* Then learne this of me, To have, is to have. For it is a figure in Rhetoricke, that drinke being pow'r'd out of a cup into a glaſſe, by filling the one, doth empty the other. For all your Writers do conſent, that *life* is hee : now you are not *life* for I am he.

Will. Which he fir?

*Col.* He fir, that muſt marrie this woman: Therefore you Clowne, abandon: which is in the vulgar, leave the ſocietie: which in the boorifh, is companie, of this ſemale: which in the common, is woman: which together, is, abandon the ſocietie of this Female, or Clowne thou periſheſt: or to thy better understanding, dye ſt; or (to wit) I kill theſe, make thee away, tranſlaſte thy life into death, thy liberty into bondage: I will deale in poyſon with thee, or in baſtado, or in ſteele: I will bandy with thee in ſaction, I will ore-run thee with policy: I will kill thee a hundred and fifty wayes, therefore tremble and depart.

*Aud.* Do good *William*.

Will. God reſt you merry fir.

Exis.

Enter Corin.

*Cor.* Our Maſter and Miſtreſſe ſeekeſ you : come away,
away.

*Clo.* Trip *Audry*, trip *Audry*, I attend,
I attend.

Exeunt.

## Scena Secunda.

Enter Orlando & Oliver.

*Orl.* Is't poſſible, that on ſo little acquaintance you
should like her? that, but ſeeing, you should love her?

And levin' woo? and wooing, ſhe ſhould graunt ? And
will you perſever to enjoy her?

*Ol.* Neither call the giddineſſe of it in queſtion; the po-
vertie of her, the ſmall acquaintance, my ſodaine wooing,
nor ſodaine conſenting: but ſay with me, I love *Aliena*:
ſay with her, that ſhe loves me; conſent with both, that
we may enjoy each other: it ſhall be to your good: for
my fathers houſe, and all the revennew, that was old *Sir
Rowlands*, will I eſtate upon you, and heere live and die a
Shepheard.

Enter Rosalind.

*Orl.* You have my conſent.

Let your wedding be to morrow : thither will I
Invite the Duke, and all's contented followers:
Go you, and prepare *Aliena*; for looke you,
Heere comes my *Rosalinde*.

Ros. God fave you brother.

*Ol.* And you faire ſifter.

*Ros.* Oh my deere *Orlando*, how it greeves me to fee
thce weare thy heart in a ſcarfe.

*Orl.* It is my armes.

*Ros.* I thought thy heart had beene wounded with the
clawes of a Lion.

*Orl.* Wounded it is, but with the eyes of a Lady.

*Ros.* Did your brother tell you how I counterſeyt to
found, when he ſhew'd me your handkercher?

*Orl.* I, and greater wonders then that.

*Ros.* O, I know where you are: nay, tis true: there
was never any thing ſo ſodaine, but the fight of two
Rammes, and *Cefars* Thraſonicall bragge, of, I came, ſaw,
and overcame. For your brother, and my ſifter, no ſoo-
ner met; but they look'd: no ſooner look'd, but they
lov'd; no ſooner lov'd, but they ſigh'd: no ſooner ſigh'd
but they ask'd one another the reaſon: no ſooner knew
the reaſon, but they fought the remedie: and in theſe
degrees, have they made a paire of ſtaires to marriage,
which they will climbe incontinent, or eſſe be incon-
nient before marriage; they are in the verie wrath of
love, and they will together. Clubbes cannot part
them.

*Orl.* They shall be married to morrow: and I will
bid the Duke to the Nuptiall. But O, how bitter a thing
it is, to looke into happines through another mans eyes:
by ſo much the more ſhall I to morrow be at the height
of heart heavineſſe, by how much I ſhall thinke my bro-
ther happie, in having what he wifhes for.

*Ros.* Why then to morrow, I cannot ſerve your turne
for *Rosalind*?

*Orl.* I can live no longer by thinking.

*Ros.* I will wearie you then no longer with idle tal-
king. Know of me then (for now I ſpeake to ſome pur-
poſe) that I know you are a Gentlemen of good conceit:
I ſpeake not this, that you ſhould beare a good opinion
of my knowledge : infomuch (I ſay) I know you are: nei-
ther doe I labor for a greater eſteeme then may in ſome
little meaſure draw a beleefe from you, to doe your ſelſe
good, and nötto grace me. Beleefe then, if you pleate,
that I can doe ſtrange things: I have ſince I was three
yeare old converſt with a Magitian, moſt profound in
his Art, and yet not damnable. If you do love *Rosalinde*
ſo neere the heart, as your geſture cries it out: when your
brother marries *Aliena*, ſhall you marrie her. I know in-
to what ſtraights of fortune ſhe isdriven, and it is not
impoſſible to me, if it appeare not inconvenient to you,
to

As you like it.

205

to fer her before your eyes to morrow, humane as she is,
and without any danger.

Orl. Speak! It thou in sober meanings?

Rof. By my life I do, which I tender deereely, though
I fay I am a Magitian: Therefore put you in your bea-
ray, bid your friends e for if you will be married to mor-
row, you shall: and to Rosalind if you will.

Enter Silvius & Phebe.

Looke, here comes a Lover of mine, and a lover of hers.

Phe. Youth, you have done me much vngentleneflie,
To shew the letter that I wri to you.

Rof. I care not if I have it is my studie

To seeme deplightfull and vngentle to you:
You are there followed by a faithfull shepheard,
Looke vpon him, love him: he worships you.

Phe. Good shepheard, tell this youth what 'tis to love
Sil. It is to be all made of fighes and teares,

And fo am I for Phebe.

Phe. And I for Ganimed.

Or. And I for Rosalind.

Rof. And I for no woman.

Sil. It is to be all made of faith and ser vice,

And fo am I for Phebe.

Phe. And I for Ganimed.

Or. And I for Rosalind.

Rof. And I for no woman.

Sil. It is to be all made of fantafie,

All made of paffion, and all made of wishes,

All adoration, duty and obefrance,

All humbleneſſe, all patience, and impatience,

All purity, all triall, all obſervance:

And fo am I for Phebe.

Phe. And fo am I for Ganimed.

Or. And fo am I for Rosalind.

Rof. And fo am I for no woman.

Phe. If this be fo, why blame you me to love you?

Sil. If this be fo, why blame you me to love you?

Or. If this be fo, why blame you me to love you?

Rof. Why do you ſpeake too, Why blame you mee to
love you.

Orl. To her, that is not heere, nor doth not heare.

Rof. Pray you no more of this, 'tis like the howling of
Irith Waves against the Moone: I will helpe you if I can:
I would love you if I could: To morrow meet me alto-
gether: I will marry you, if ever I marry Woman, and
Ile be married to morrow: I will fatisſe you, if ever I
fatisſ'd man, and you shall be married to morrow. I will
content you, if what pleafes you contents you, and you
shall be married to morrow: As you love Rosalind meet,
as you love Phebe meet, and as I love no woman, Ile meet:
fo fare you well: I have left you commands

Sil. Ile not faile, if I live.

Phe. Nor I.

Or. Nor I.

Exeunt.

## Scæna Tertia.

Enter Clewne and Audrey.

Clo. To morrow is the joyfull day Audrey, to morow
will we be married.

Au. I do defure it with all my heart: and I hope it is no
difhonſt defire, to defire to be a woman of the world?

Hereere come two of the banifh'd Dukes Pages.

Enter two Pages.

1. Pa. Wel met honest Gentleman.

Clo. By my troth well met: come, fit, fit, and a fong.

2. Pa. We are for you, fit i' th' middle.

1. Pa. Shal we clap into't roundly, without hauking,
or ſpitting, or faying we are hoarſe, which are the only
prologues to a bad voice.

2. Pa. I faith, y'faith, and both in a tune like two gip-
fies on a horſe.

Song.

It was a Lover, and his latt'e;

With a hey, and a ho, and a hey nonino.

That o're the greene come feild did paffe,

In the ſpring time; the only pretty rang time,

When Birds do ſing, hey ding a ding, ding.

Sweet Lovers love the spring,

And therefore take the prefent time,

With a hey, & a ho, and a hey nonino,

For love is crowned with the prime.

In ſpring time, &c.

Betweene the acres of the Rie,

With a hey, and a ho, & a hey nonino.

The ſe pretty Country folks would ly.

In ſpring time, &c.

This Carroll they began that honore,

With a boy and a ho, & a hey upono,

How that a life was but a flower,

In ſpring time, &c.

Clo. Truly young Gentlemen, though there was no great
matter in the ditty, yet the note was very vntunable.

1. Pa. you are deceiv'd Sir, we kept time, we loft not
our time.

Clo. By my troth yes: I count it but time loft to heare
fuch a foolish ſong. God buy you, and God mend your
voices. Come Audrie.

Exeunt.

## Scæna Quarta.

Enter Duke Senior, Amyens, Iaques, Orlando,
Oliver, Celia.

Du. Sen, Doft thou believee Orlando, that the boy
Can do all this that he hath promifed?

Or. I sometimes do believee, and fometimes do not,
As thofe that feare they hope, and know they feare.

Enter Rosalinde, Silvius, & Phebe.

Rof. Patience once more, whiles our compaſt is vrg'd:
You fay, if I bring in your Rosalinde,

You will beſtow her on Orlando here?

(hir.)

Du. Se. That would I, had I kingdomes to give with

Rof. And you fay you will have her, when I bring hir?

Or. That would I, were I of all kingdomes King.

Rof. You fay, you'l marry me, if I be willing.

Phe. That will I, should I dy the houre after.

Ro. But if you do refuse to marry me,

You'l give your ſelfe to this moſt faithfull Shepheard.

Phe. So is the bargaine.

Rof. You fay that you'l have Phebe if she will.

Sil. Though to have her and death, were both one
thing.

S

Rof.

206

As you like it.

Raf. I have promis'd to make all this matter even:
Keepe your word, O Duke, to give your daughter,
You yours Orlando, to receive his daughter:
Keepe your word Phebe, that you'll marry me,
Or else refusing me, to wed this shepherd:
Keepe your word Silenus, that you'll marry her
If she refuse me, and from hence I go
To make these doubts all even.
Exit Raf. and Celia.

Du. Se. I do remember in this shepherd boy,
Some lively touches of my daughters favour.

Or. My Lord, the first time that I ever saw him,
Me thought he was a brother to your daughter:
But my good Lord, this Boy is Fortescu borne,
And hath bin tutor'd in the rudiments
Of many desperate studies, by his vncle,
Whom he reports to be a great Magitian.

Enter Clowne and Audrey.

Obfeured in the circle of this Forteit.

Iaq. There is fure another flood toward, and these couples are comming to the Arke. Here comes a payre of very ftrange beafts, which in all tongues, are call'd Fooles.

Clo. Salutation and greeting to you all.

Iaq. Good my Lord, bid him welcome: This is the Mot-
ley-minded Gentleman, that I have so often met in the
Forteit: he hath bin a Courtier he wfeares.

Clo. If any man doubt that, let him put mee to my pur-
gation, I have trod a meafure, I have flatted a Lady, I
have bin politicke with my friend, smooth with mine
enemie, I have vndone three Tailors, I have had foure
quarrels, and like to have fought one.

Iaq. And how was that tane up?

Clo. Faith we met, and found the quarrel was upon
the seventh caufe.

Iaq. How seventh caufe ? Good my Lord, like this
fellow.

Du. Se. I like him very well.

Clo. God'd you fir, I defire you of the like: I prefse in
heere fir, amongst the reft of the Country copulatives to
fware, and to forfware, according as marriage binds
and blood breaks : a poore virgin fir, an il favor'd thing
fir, but mine owne, a poore humour of mine fir, to take
that that no man else will : rich honcy dwels like a mi-
fer fir, in a poore houſe, as your Pearle in your foule oy-
fer.

Du. Sen. By my faith, he is very swift, and fententious

Clo. According to the fooles bolt fir, and fuch dulcet
difeaſes.

Iaq. But for the seventh caufe. How did you finde the
quarrell on the seventh caufe?

Clo. Vpon a lye, seven times removed : ( beare your
body more feeming Andry ) as thus fir: I did diffike the
cut of a certaine Courtiers beard : he fent me word, if I
faid his beard was not cut well, hee was in the minde it
was : this is call'd the retort courteous. If I fent him
word againe, it was not well cut, he wold fend me word
he cut it to pleafe himſelfe: this is call'd the quip modeſt.
If againe, it was not well cut, he diſabled my judgment:
this is called, the reply churliſh. If agai ne it was not wel
cut, he would anſwer I spake not true : this is call'd the
reproofe valiant. If againe, it was not well cut, he wold
fay, I lie : this is call'd the counter-checke quarrelſome:
and fo to the lie circumftantiall, and the lie direct.

Iaq. And how oft did you fay his beard was not well
cut?

Clo. I durſt go no further then the lye circumſtantiall:

nor he durſt not give me the lie direct: and so wee mea-
fur'd ſwords, and parted.

Iaq. Can you nominate in order now, the degrees of
the lie.

Clo. O fir, we quarrell in print, by the booke : as you
have bookeſ for good manners : I will name you the de-
grees. The firſt, the Retort courteous : the ſecond, the
Quip-modeſt : the third, the reply Churliſh: the fourth,
the Reprooſe valiant: the firſt, the Counterchecke quar-
relſome: the ſixt, the Lye with circumſtance: the fea-
vent, the Lye direct: all theſe you may avoyd, but the
Lye direct: and you may avoide that too, with an ſſ. I
knew when ſever Iuſtices could not take up a Quarrell,
but when the parties were met themſelves, one of them
thought but of an ſſ; as if you faide ſo, then I faide ſo:
and they ſhooke hands, and ſwore brothers. Your ſſ, is
the only peace-maker : much vertue inſ.

Iaq. Is not this a rare fellow my Lord ? He's as good
at any thing, and yet a fool.

Du. Se. He ſuses his folly like a ſtalking-horſe, and un-
der the preſentation of that he ſhoots his wit.

Enter Hymen, Rofalind, and Celia.

Still Musiſicæ.

Hymen. Then is there mirth in heaven,
When earthly things made eaven
atone together.

Good Duke receive thy daughter,
Hymen from Heaven brought her,
Yea brought her hether.

That thou mightst joyne his hand with his,
Whose heart within his boſome is.

Raf. To you I give my ſelfe, for I am yours.

Du.Se. If there be truth in fight, you are my daughter.

Or. If there be truth in fight, you are my Rofalind.

Phe. If fight & shape be true, why then my love adieu.

Rof. Ile have no Father, if you be not he:

Ile have no Husband, if you be not he:

Nor ne're wed woman, if you be not ſie.

Hy. Peace hoar: I barre confusion,

'Tis I muſt make conclusion

Of theſe moſt ſtrange events:

Here's eight that muſt take hands,

To joyne in Hymens bands,

If truth holds true contents.

You and you, no croſſe ſhall part;

You and you, are heart in heart;

You, to his love muſt accord,

Or have a Woman to your Lord.

You and you, are ſure together,

As the Winter to fowle W℃ather:

Whiles a Wedlocke Hymne we ſing,

Feede your ſelves with queſtioning:

That reaſon, wonder may diminifh

How thus we met, and theſe things finiſh.

Song.

Wedding is great Innos crown,
O bleſſed bond of boord and bed:

'Tis Hymen peoples every towne,
High wedlocke then be honored:

Honor, high honor and renowne

To Hymen, God of every Towne.

‡‡‡ Du. Se. O my deere Neece, welcome thou art to me,
Even daughter welcome, in no leſſe degree.

Phe.

208

THE
Taming of the Shrew.

Actus Primus. Scena Prima.

Enter Begger and Hofteffo, Christopher Sly.

Begger.

Le pheeze you infaith.

Hoff. A paire of ftokes you rogue.

Beg. Y'are a baggage, the Slies are no
Rogues. Looke in the Chronicles, we came
in with Richard Conqueror : therefore Pau-
cas pallabris, let the world flide: Sefia.

Hoff. You will not pay for the glaſſes you haue burſt?

Beg. No, not a deniere: go by S. Ieronimy, goe to thy cold bed, and warme thee.

Hoff. I know my remedy, I muſt go fetch the Headborough.

Beg. Third, or fourth, or fifth Borough, Ile anſwere him by Law. Ile not budge an inch boy: Let him come, and kindly.
Falles a ſleep.

Winde hornes. Enter a Lord from hunting, with his traine.

Lo. Huntſman, I charge thee, tender wel my hounds,
Brach Meriman, the poore Curre is imboſt,
And couple Clowder with the deepe-month'd brach,
Saw't thou not boy how Silver made it good
At the hedge corner, in the couldeſt fault,
I would not loſe the dogge for twenty pound.

Hun. Why Belman is as good as he my Lord,
He cried upon it at the meereſt loſſe,
And twice to day pick'd out the duſtſt ſent,
Trauſt me, I take him for the better dogge.

Lord. Thou art a fool, if Eecbo were as fleete,
I would eſteeme him worth a dozen ſuch:
But ſup them well, and look e unto them all,
To morrow I intend to hau't againe.

Hun. I will my Lord.

Lord. What's heere? One dead, or drunke? See doth he
breathe?

2. Hun. He breath's my Lord. Were he not warm'd
with Ale, this were a bed but cold to ſleep ſo foundly.

Lord. Oh monſtreous beaſt, how like a ſwine helyes.
Grim death, how foule and loathſome is thine image!
Sirs, I will practise on this drunken man.

What thinke you, if he were convey'd to bed,
Wrap'd in ſweet cloathes: Rings put upon his fingers:
A moſt delicious banquet by his bed,

And brave attendants neere him when he wakes,
Would not the begger then forget himſeſe?

1. Hun. Beleve me Lord, I thinke he cannot chooſe.

2. H. It would ſeem ſtrange unto him when he wak'd
Lord. Even as a flatt'ring dreame, or worthles ſanie.

Then take him up, and manage well the jeſt:

Carry him gently to my faireſt Chamber,
And hang it round with all my wanton pictures:

Balme his foule head in warme diſtilled waters,

And burne ſweet Wood to make the Lodging (wveetes:
Procure me Muſicke ready when he wakes,

To make a dulcet and a heavenly found:

And if he chance to ſpeake, be ready ſtraight
(And with a low ſubſimilive reverence)

Say, what is it your Honor will command:

Let one attend him with a ſilver Baton
Full of Rofe-water, and beſtrew'd with Flowers,

Another beare the Ewer : the third a Diaper,

And ſay wilt pleafe your Lordſhip coole your hands.

Some one be ready with a coſtly ſuite,

And aske him what apparel he will weare:

Another tell him of his Hounds and Horſe,

And that his Lady mournes at his diſeafe,

Perſwade him that he hath bin Lunaticke,

And when he ſayes he is, ſay that he dreames,

For he is nothing but a mighty Lord:

This do, and do it kindly, gentle ſirs,

It will be paſtine paſſing excellent,

If it be husbanded with modeſtly.

1. Hun. My Lord I warrant you we will play our part
As he ſhall thinke by our true diligence
He is no leſſe then what we ſay he is.

Lor. Take him up gently, and to bed with him,
And each one to his office when he wakes.

Sound trumpet.

Sirrah, go fee what Trumpets that ſounds,
Belike ſome Noble Gentleman that meanes

(Travelling ſome journey) to repoſe him heere.

Enter Servingman.

How now, who is it?

Ser. An't pleafe your Honor, Players
That offer ſervice to your Lordſhip.

Enter Players.

Lor. Bid them come neere:

New ſellowes, you are welcome.

Pla. We thanke your Honor.

Lor. Do you intend to ſlay with me to night?

2. Pla. So pleafe your Lordſhip to accept our duty.

Lor. With all my heart. This fellow I remember,
Since once he plaide a Farmers eldeſt ſonne,

Twas where you woo'd the Gentlewoman ſo well:
I have forgot your name: out ſure that part

W 45

The Taming of the Shrew.

210

2. Man. Wilt please your mightineffle to wash your hands:

Oh how we joy to see your wit reftor'd,
Oh that once more you knew but what you are:
These fifteene yeeres you have bin in a dreame,
Or when you wak'd,so wak'd as if you flept.

Beg. These fifteene yeeres, by my fay, a goodly nap,
But did I never fpeake of all that time?

1. Man. Oh yes my Lord, but very idle words,
For though you lay here in this goodly chamber,
Yet would you fay, ye were beaten out of doore,
And raile upon the Hofteſſe of the houſe,
And fay you would preſent her at the Leete,
Because he brought ſtone-Ings,and no feal'd quarts:
Sometimes you would call out for Cicely Hacket.

Beg. I, the womans maid of the houſe.

3. Ma. Why fir you know no houſe,nor no fuch maid
Nor no fuch men as you have reckon'd up,
As Stephen Sly,and old John Naps of Greece,
And Peter Turph,and Henry Pimpernell,
And twenty more fuch names and men as theſe,
Which never were, nor no man ever ſaw.

Beg. Now Lord be thanked for my good amends.

Alli Amen,

Enter Lady with Attendants.

Beg. I thankee thee, thou fhalt not lobe by it.

Lady. How fares my noble Lord?

Beg. Marry I fare well, for here is cheere enough.
Where is my wife?

La. Heere noble Lord, what is thy will with her?

Beg. Are you my wife, and will not call me husband?
My men should call me Lord, I am your good-man.

La. My husband and my Lord, my Lord and husband
I am your wife in all obedience.

Beg. I know it well, what muſt I call her?

Lord. Madam,

Beg. Alce Madam, or Ione Madam?

Lord. Madam, and nothing eſſe, ſo Lords call Ladies.

Beg. Madame wife, they ſay that I have dream'd,
And flept above fome fifteene yeare or more.

Lady. I, and the time ſeem's thirty vnto me,
Being all this time abandon'd from your bed.

Beg. 'Tis much, ſervants leave me and her alone:
Madam undrefle you, and come now to bed.

La. Thrice noble Lord, let me intreat of you
To pardon me yet for a night or two:

Or if not ſo, untill the Sun be ſet.

For your Phyſitians have expreſſely charg'd,
In perill to incurre your former malady,
That I ſhould yet abſent me from your bed:

I hope this reaſon ſtands for my excufe.

Beg. I, it ſtands ſo that I may hardly tarry ſo long:
But I would be loth to fall into my dreames againe: I will
therefore tarrie in despight of the fleſh and the blood.

Enter a Messenger.

Mef. Your Honors Players hearing your amendment,
Are come to play a pleafant Comedy,
For ſo your doctors hold it very meete,

Seeing too much fadneſſe hath congeal'd your blood,
And melancholly is the Nurſe of frenzie,
Therefore they thought it good you heare a play,

And frame your minde to mirth and merriment,
Which barres a thouſand harmes, and lengthens life.

Beg. Marry I will let them play, it is not a Comon-

ty, a Christmas gambold, or a tumbling tricke.

Lady. No my good Lord, it is more pleasing ſtuffe.

Beg. What,houſhold ſtuffe?

Lady. It is a kinde of hiftory.

Beg. Well, we'll fee't:

Come Madame wife fit by my fide,
And let the world ſip, we ſhall ne're, be yonger.

Flourisco. Enter Lucentio, and his man Tranio.

Lucentio, ſince for the great defire I had
To fee faire Padua, nurſery of Arts,

I am arriv'd for fruitfull Lumbardy,

The pleafant garden of great Italy,

And by my fathers love and leave am arm'd

With his good will, and thy good company.

My truſty ſervant well approv'd in all,

Heere let us breath, and happily inſtitute

A courſe of Learning, and ingenious ſtudies.

Pisaf renowned for grave Citizens

Gave me my being, and my father firſt

A Merchant of great Traſſicke through the world:

Vincentio's co ne of the Bensivolij,

Vincentio's ſonne, brought up in Florence,

It ſhall become to ſerve all hopes conceiv'd

To decke his fortune with his vertuous deedeſ:

And therefore Tranio, for the time I ſtudy,

Vertue and that part of Philofophy

Will I apply, that treats of happineſſe,

By vertue ſpecially to be atchiev'd,

Tell me thy minde, for I have Pisa left,

And am to Padua come, as he that leaves

A ſhallow plaſh, to plunge him in the deepe,

And with ſaciety ſeekeſ to quench his thirſt.

Tra. Me Pardonato, gentle maſter mine:

I am in all affected as your ſelfe,

Glad that you thus continue your ſefolve,

To ſucke the fweets of ſweele Philofophy.

Onely (good maſter) while we do admire

This vertue, and this morall diſcipline

Let's be no Stoickes, nor no ſtockes I pray,

Or ſo devote to Ariftotles checks

As Ovid, be an out-caſt quite ab Jur'd:

Balke Lodgicke with acquaintance that you have,

And practife Rhetoricke in your common talke,

Muſicke and Pocſie uſe, to quicken you,

The mathematicks, and the Metaphyſickes

Fall to them as you tinde your ſomacke ſerves you:

No profit growes, where is no pleafure tane:

In briefe fir, ſtudy what you moſt affect.

Lucentio. Gramercies Tranio, well doſt thou advife,

If Biondello thou wert come aſhore,

We could at once put us in readineſſe,

And take a Lodging fit to entertaine

Such friends (as time) in Padua ſhall beget.

But ſtay a while, what company is this?

Tra. Maifter ſome ſhew to welcome us to Towne.

Enter Baptiſta with his two daughters, Katherina & Bianca,
Gremio a Pantalowne, Hortenſo a Suiter to Bianca.

Lucentio, and by.

Bap. Gentlemen, importune me no farther,
For how I firmly am refolv'd you know:

That is, not to beſtow my yongeſt daughter,

Before I have a husband for the elder:

If either of you both love Katherina,

Because

The Taming of the Shrew.

Because I know you well, and love you well,
Leave shall you have to court her at your pleasure.
Gre. To cart her rather. She's too rough for me,
There, there

Hortensio, will you any Wife?

Kat. I pray you fir, is it your will

To make a divel of me amongst thee mates?

Hor. Mates maid, how meane you that?

No mates for you,

Vnlefe you were of gentler milder mould.

Kat. I'faith fir, you shall never neede to feare,

I-wis it is not halfe way to her heart:

But if it were, doubt not, her care should be,
To come your noddle with a three-legg'd foole,
And paint your face, and ufe you like a foole.

Hor. From all such divels, good Lord deliver us.

Gre. And mee too, good Lord.

Tra. Hufht maifter, heres some good paftime toward,
That wench is starke mad, or wonderfull froward.

Luc. But in the others silence do I fee,

Maids milde bchauier and fobriety.

Peace Tranio.

Tru. Well faid Maifter, mum, and gaze your fill.

Bap. Gentlemen, that I may foone make good

What I have faid, Bianca, get you in,

And let it not difpicate thee good Bianca,

For I will love thee ne're the leffe my girle.

Kat. A pretty peate, it is beſt put finger in the eye,
and the knew why.

Bia. Sifter content you, in my discontent.

Sir, to your pleasure humbly I subſcribe:
My bookeſ and instruments ſhall be my company,
On them to looke, and præſe by my ſelſe.

Luc. Hearke Travio, thou maſſhe heare Minerva ſpeak.

Hor. Signior Baptista, will you be ſo ſtrange,

Sorry am I at that our good will effects

Bianca's greſſe.

Gre. Why will you mew her up

(Signior Baptista) for this fiend of hell,

And make her beare the pennance of her tongue?

Bap. Gentlemen content ye: I am reſolv'd:

Go in Bianca.

And for I know ſhe taketh moſt delight

In Maſſeke, instruments, and Poetry,

Schoolemaſters will I keepe within my houſe,

Fit to inſtruct her youth. If you Hortenſio,

Or ſignior Gremio you know any ſuch,

Preferre them hither: for to cunning men,

I will be very kinde and liberall,

To mine owne children, in good bringing up,

And for ſore well: Katharine you may ſay,

For I have more to commune with Bianca. Exit.

Kat. Why, and I truſt I may go too, may I not?

What shall I be appointed hours, as though
(Belike) I knew not what to take,

And what to leave? Ha. Exit.

Gre. You may go to the divels dam: your guifes are
ſo good here's none will holde you: Their love is not
ſo great Hortenſio, but we may blow our nails together,
and faſt it fairely out. Our cakes dough on both fides.
Farewell: yet for the love I beare my ſweet Bianca, if
I can by any means light on a fit man to teach her that
wherein the delights, I will wifh him to her father.

Hor. So will I Signior Gremio: but a word I pray:
Though the nature of our quarrell yet never brook'd
parle, know now upon aduice, it toucheth us both: that
we may yet againe have acceſſe to our faire Miftris,

and therefore has he cloſely men'd her up,
be happy rivals in Bianca's love, to labour and effect one
thing ſpecially.

Gre. What's that I pray?

Hor. Marrie fir to get a husband for her Sifter.

Gre. A husband : a divell.

Hor. I fay a husband.

Gre. I fay, a divell: Think'ſt thou Hortenſio, though
her father be very rich, any a man is ſo verie a foole to be
married to hell?

Hor. Tuſh Gremio: though it paffe your patience and
mine to endure her lewd alarums, why man there bee
good fellows in the world, and a man could light on them,
would take her with all faults, and mony enough.

Gre. I cannot tell: but I had as lief take her dowrie
with this ondition: To be whipt at the hie cloſſe every
morning.

Hor. Faith (as you fay) there's ſmall choife in rotten
apples: come, ſince this bar in law makes us friends, it
ſhall be ſo far forth friendly maintain'd, till by helping
Baptista's eldeſt daughter to a husband, we fet his youngeſt
free for a husband, and then have too't afreſh: Sweet
Bianca, happy man be his dole: he that runnes faſſeſt,
gets the Ring: How ſay you ſignior Gremio?

Gremio. I am agreed, and would I had given him the beſt
horſe in Padua to begin his wooing that would through-
ly wooe her, wed her, and bed her, and ridde the houſe
of her. Come on.

Excuse ambo. Manet Tranio and Lucentio.

Tra. I pray fir tel me, is it poffible

That love ſhould of a fodaine take ſuch hold.

Luc. Oh Tranio, till I found it to be true,

I never thought it poffible or likely.

But fee, while idely I ſtood looking on,

I found the effect of Love in idlenefle,

And now in plainneſſe do conſeſſe to thee

That art to me as ſecret and as deere

As Anna to the Queene of Carthage was:

Tranio I burne, I pine, I perifh Tranio,

If I atchieve not this young modeſt gyrlc :

Connaſſe me Tranio, for I know thou canſt:

Affiſt me Tranio, for I know thou wilt.

Tra. Maſter, it is no time to chide you now,

Affection is not rated from the heart:

If love touch'd you, nought remaines but ſo,

Redime te captum quam queas minimo.

Luc. Gramercies Lad: go forward, this contents,

The reſt will comfort, for thy counſel's found.

Tra. Maſter, you look'd to longly on the maide

Perhaps you mark'd not what's the pith of all.

Luc. Oh yes, I ſaw ſweet beautie in her face,

Such as the daughter of Agenor had,

That made great Iove to humble him to her hand,

When with his knees he kift the Cretan ſtland.

Tra. Saw you no more? Mark'd you not how her filter,

Began to ſcold, and raife up ſuch a ſtorme?

That mortall eares might hardly endure the din,

Luc. Tranio, I ſaw her corrall lips to move;

And with her breath ſhe did perfume the ayre,
Sacred and ſweet was all I ſaw in her.

Tra. Nay, then't is time to ſtirre him from his trance:
I pray awake fir: if you love the Maide;

Bend thoughts and wits to atcheve her. Thus it stands:

Her elder filter is ſo curſt and ſhrew'd,

That till the father rid his hands of her,

Maſter, your love muſt live a mide at home,

And therefore has he cloſely men'd her up,

Because

The Taming of a the Shrew.

To seeke their fortunes farther than at home,
Where fmall experience growes but in a few.
Signior *Hortenfio*, thus it stands with me,
Antonio my father is deceat,
And I have thrust my felfe into this maze,
Happily to wive and thrive,as beft I may:
Crownes in my purfe I have, and goods at home,
And fo am come abroad to fee the world.

*Hor. Petruchio,* shall I then come roundly to thee?
And with thee to a fhow'd ill-favour'd wife?
Thou'dt thanke me but a little for my council:
And yet Ile promife thee ſhe shall be rich,
And very rich; but th'art too much my friend,
And Ile not with thee to her.

*Pet. Signior Hortenfio,* 'twixt such friends as wee,
Few words in fmeice and therefore, if thou know
One rich enough to be *Petruchio's* wife:
(As wealth is burthen of my wooing dance)
Be the as foule as was *Florentius Love*,
As old as *Sibell*, and as curſt and fhow'd
As *Socrates Zantippe*, or a worſe:
She moves me not, or not removes at least

Affections edge in time. Were ſhe as rough
As are the ſwelling *Adriaticke* leas:
I come to wive it wealthily in *Padua*:
If wealthily, then happily in *Padua*.

*Gru. Nay looke you fir, hee tels you flatly what his
minde is: why give him Gold enough, and marrie him
to a Puppet or an Aglet babie, or an old trot with ne're a
tooth in her head, though ſhe have as many difeafeſ as
two and fifty horſes. Why nothing comes amiffè, ſo mo-
ny comes withal.*

*Hor. Petruchio,* ſince we are ſtept thus farre in,
I will continue that I broach'd in jeſt;
I can *Petruchio* helpeth thee to a wife

With wealth enough, and yong and beauteous.
Brought up as beſt becomes a Gentlewoman.
Her only fault, and that is fault enough,

Is, that he is intollerable curſt,
And fhow'd, and froward, to beyond all meaſure,
That were my ſtate farre worſer then it is,
I would not wed her for a mine of Gold.

*Pet. Hortenſio peace: thou know'st not golds effect,
Tell me her fathers name, and 'tis enough:
For I will boord her, though ſhe chide as loud
As thunder, when the clouds in Autumnne crackes.*

*Hor. Her father is Baptista Minola,*

An affable and courteous Gentleman,
Her name is *Katherina Minola*,

Renown'd in *Padua* for her ſcoldingtongue.

*Pet. I know her father, though I know not her,*
And he knew my deceafe father well:

I will not fleep *Hortenſio* til I fee her,
And therefore let me be thus bold with you,
To give you over at this firſt encounter,
Vnleſſe you will accompany me thither.

*Gru. I pray you Sir let him go while the humor lafts.
A my word, and ſhe knew him as well as I do, ſhe would
tkinke ſcolding would do little good upon him. ſhee
may perhaps call him halſe a ſcore Knaves, or fo: Why
that's nothing; and he begin once, he'l raile in his rope
trickses. Ile tell you what fir, and ſhe ſtand him but a li-
tle, he wil throw a figure in her face, and ſo disfigure him
with it, that ſhe ſhall have no more eyes to fee withall
then a Cat: you know him not fir.

*Hor. Tarry Petruchio,* I muſt go with thee,

For in Baptistaſas keepe my treafure iſ
He hath the Iewell of my life in hold,
His yongſe daughter, beautifull Bianca,
And her with-holds hee from me. Other more

Suters to her, and rivals in my Love:

Suppofing it a thing impoffible,

For that defectſ I have before rehearſt,

That ever Katherina will be woo'd:

Therefore this order hath Baptista tane,
That none ſhal have aceſſe vnto Bianca,

Till Katherine the Curſt, have got a husband,

*Gru. Katherine the curſt,*

A title for a maide, of all titles the worſt.

*Hor. Now ſhall my friend Petruchio do me grace,
And offer me diſguis'd in fober robes,
To old Baptista as a schoole-maifter.

Well ſeene in Muſſicke, to inſtruct Bianca,
That ſo I may by this device at least

Have leave and leifure to make love to her;

And vnſuſpect ed court her by her ſelfe.

*Enter Gremio and Lucentio diſuſed.*

*Gru. Heere's no knavery. See, to beguile the old folkes
how the young folkes lay theirs head together. Mai-
ſter, maifter, looke about you: Who goes there?ha.*

*Hor. Peace Grumio,* it is the rivall of my Love.

*Petruchio* ſtand by a whilt.

*Gru. A proper ſtripling, and an amourous.*

*Gre. O very well, I have perus'd the note.*

Hearke you fir, Ile have them very fairely bound,
All bookes of Love, fee that at any hand,

And fee you reade no other Lectures to her:

You understand me. Over and beſide

Signior Baptista ſererality

Ile mend it with a Largeſſe. Take your paper too,

And let me have them very well perfum'd,

For he is sweeter then perfume it ſelfe

To whom they go to: what will you reade to her?

*Luc. What ere I reade to her, Ile pleade for you,
As for my patron, ſtand you ſo affur'd;

As firmly as your ſelfe were ſtill in place,

Yea and perhaps with more ſuſſeſſe full words

Then you, vnleſſe you were a ſcholler fir.

*Gre. Oh this learning, what a thing it is.*

*Gru. Oh this Woodcocke, what an Aſſe it is.*

*Pet. Peace firra.*

*Hor. Gru. mum: God ſave you, ſignior Gremio.*

*Gre. And you are well met, Signior Hortenſio.*

*Trow you whither I am going? To Baptista Minola,
I promiſt to enquire carefully.*

About a ſchoolemaſter for the faire Bianca,

And by good fortune I have lighted well

On this yong man: For learning and behauïour

Fit for her turne, well read in Poetrie

And other bookeſ, good ones, I warrant ye.

*Hor. 'Tis well; and I have met a Gentleman

Hath promiſt me to helpe one to another,

A fine Mufitian to inſtruct our Miftris,

So ſhal I no whit be behinde in duty

To faire Bianca, ſo beloved of me.

*Gre. Beloved of me, and that my, deeds ſhal prove.*

*Gru. And that his bags ſhal prove.*

*Hor. Gremio,* 'tis now no time to vent our love,

Liſten to me, and if you ſpeake me faire,

Ile tell you newes indifferent good for either.

Heere is a Gentle nan whom by chance I met.

Vpon

["The Taming of the Shrew.", "214", "Upon agreement from us to his liking,", "Will undertake to woo curst Katherine,", "Yea, and to marry her, if her dowrie pleale,", "Gre. So faid, fo done, is well:", "Hortenſio, have you told him all her faults?", "Pet. I know ſhe is an irkeſome brawling ſcold:", "If that be all Maifters, I heare no harme.", "Gre. No, ſayt me fo, friend? What Countreyman?", "Pet. Borne in Verona, old Butonios ſonne:", "My father dead, my fortune lives for me,", "And I do hope, good dayes and long, to fee.", "Gre. Oh fir, ſuch a life with ſuch a wife, were ſtrange:", "But if you have a ſtomacke, too'ta Gods name,\nYou ſhall haue me affifting you in all.", "But will you woo this Wilde-cat?", "Pet. Will I live?", "Gru. Will he woo her? I: or Ile hang her,", "Pet. Why came I hither, but to that intent?", "Thinke you, a little dinne can daunt mine eares?", "Have I not in my time heard Lions rore?", "Have I not heard the ſea, puſt up with windes,", "Rage like an angry Boare, chafed with ſweat?", "Have I not heard great Ordnance in the field?", "And heavens Artillerie thunder in the skies?", "Have I not in a pitched battell heard", "Lond larums, neighing ſteeds, & trumpets clangue?", "And do you tell me of a womans tongue?", "That gives not halſe ſo great a blow to heare,", "As will a Cheſſe-nut in a Farmers fire.", "Tuſh, tuſh, ſeare boyes with bugs.", "Gru. For he ſcares none.", "Gre. Hortenſio hearke:", "This Gentleman is happily arriv'd,", "My minde prefumes for his owne good, and yours.", "Hor. I promiſt we would be Contributors,", "And beare his charge of wooing whatſoever.", "Gru. And ſo we will, provided that he win her.", "Gru. I would I were as ſure of a good dinner.", "Enter Tranio brave, and Biondello.", "Tra. Gentlemen God ſave you. If I may be bold,", "Tell me I beſeech you, which is the readieſt way", "To the houſe of Signior Baptiſta Minola?", "Bio. He that ha's the two faire daughters: if he you\nmeame?", "Tra. Even he Biondello.", "Gru. Hearke you fir, you meane not her to—", "Tra. Perhaps him and her fir, what have you to do?", "Pet. Not her that chides fir, at any hand I pray.", "Tra. I love no chiders fir: Biondello, let's away.", "Luc. Well begun Tranio.", "Her. Sir, a word ere you go.", "Are you a ſutor to the Maid you talke of, yea or no?", "Tra. And if I be fir, is it any offence?", "Gru. No: if without more words you will get you\nhence.", "Tra. Why fir, I pray are not the ſtreetes as free", "For me, as for you?", "Gree. But fo is not ſhe.", "Trr. For what reaton I beſeech you.", "Gru. For this reaſon if you'll kno,", "That ſhe's the choife love of Signior Gremio.", "Hor. That ſhe's the choſen of Signior Hortenſio.", "Tra. Softly my Maifters: If you be Gentlemen", "Do me this right: heare me with patience.", "Baptiſta is a noble Gentleman,", "To whom my Father is not all unknowne,", "And were his daughter fairer then ſhe is,", "She may more ſutore have, and me for one.", "Faire Ledaues daughter had a thouſand woors,", "Then well one more may faire Bianca have,", "And fo ſhe ſhall, Lucentio ſhall make one,", "Though Paris came, in hope to ſpeed alone.", "Gre. What, this Gentleman will out-talke us all.", "Lu. Sir, give me head, I know he'll prove a lade.", "Pet. Hortenſio, to what end are all theſe words?", "Hor. Sir, let me be ſo bold as to aske you,", "Did you yet ever ſee Baptiſta daughter?", "Tra. No fir, but heare I do that he hath two:", "The one, as famous for a ſcolding tongue,", "As is the other, for beauteous mod ſtice.", "Pet. Sir, fir, the firſt ſor for me, let her go by.", "Gru. Yea, leave that labour to great Hercules,", "And let it be more then Aleides twelve.", "Pet. Sir, undertand you this of me (infooth)", "The yongeſt daughter whom you hearken for,", "Her father keepes from all acceſſe of ſutors,", "And will not promife her to any man,", "Vtill the elder firſer firſt be wort.", "The yonger then is free, and not before.", "Tra. It it be ſo fir, that you are the man", "Muſt feed us all, and me amongſt the reſt.", "And if you breake the ice, and do this ſeeke,", "Atchieve the elder: let the yonger free,", "For our acceſſe, whose hap ſhall be to have her,", "Will not ſo graceleſſe be, to be ingrate.", "Hor. Sir you ſay well, and well you do conceive,", "And ſince you do proſeſſe to be a ſutor,", "You muſt as we do, gratiſe this Gentleman,", "To whom we all reſt generally beholding.", "Tra. Sir, I ſhall not be ſlacke, in ſigne whereof,", "Pleaſe ye we may contrive this afternoone,", "And quaffe carowſes to our Miſtreſſe health,", "And do as adverfaries do in law,", "Strive mightily, but eate and drinke as friends.", "Gru. Bion. Oh excellent motion: ſellowes let's be gon.", "Hor. The motion's good indeed, and be it ſo,", "Petruchio, I ſhall be your Ben venuto.", "Exeuut.", "Enter Katherina and Bianca.", "Bia. Good firſter wrong me not, nor wrong your ſelfe,", "To make a bondmaide and a ſlave of me,", "That I difdaine: but for theſe other goods,", "Vnbinde my hands, Ile puſt them off my ſelfe,", "Yea all my raiment, to my petticoate,", "Or what you will command me, will I do,", "So well I know my dutie to my elders.", "Kate. Of all thy ſuters heere I charge thee tell", "Whom thou lov't beſt: ſee thou diſſembe not.", "Bianca. Beleeve me firſter, of all the men alive,", "I never yet beheld that ſpeciall face,", {"bbox": [695, 11

The Taming of the Shrew.

Enter Baptista.

Bap. Why how now Dame, whence growes this in-folence?

Bianca stand afide, poore gyre the weepes :

Go ply thy Needle, meddle not with her.

For shame thou Hilding of a divellish spirit,

Why doft thou wrong her, that did ne're wrong thee?

When did the croffe thee with a bitter word?

Kat. Her silence flouts me, and Ile reueng'd,

Flies after Bianca.

Bap. What in my fight? Bimca get thee in.

Exit.

Kat. What will you not suffer me: Nay now I fee

She is your treasure, she must have a husband,
I must dance bare-foot on her wedding day,
And for your love to her, leade Apes in hell.

Talk not to me, I will goe fit and weepe,
Till I can finde occasion of revenge.

Bap. Was never Gentleman thus greev'd as I?

But who comes here.

Enter Gremio, Lucentio, in the habit of a meane man,
Petruchio with Tranio, with his boy
bearing a Lute and Bookes.

Gre. Good morrow neighbour Baptista.

Bap. Good morrow neighbour Gremio: God save you
Gentlemen.

Pet. And you good fir: pray have you not a daughter,
cal'd Katerina, faire and vertuous?

Bap. I have a daughter fir, cal'd Katerina,

Gre. You are too bluut, go to it orderly.

Pet. You wrong me Signior Gremio, give me leave.
I am a gentleman of Verona fir,

That hearing of her beauty, and her wit,

Her affability and bathfull modellie:

Her, wondrous qualities, and milde behaviour,

Am bold to thew me felfe a forward guelt

Within your houfe, to make mine eye the witneſſe

Of that report, which I fo oft have heard,

And for an entrance to my entertainment,

I do prefent you with a man of mine

Cunning in Muficke, and the Mathematickes,

To influct her fully in thofe ſciences,

Whereof I know ſhe is not ignorant:

Accept of him, or eſſe you do me wrong,

His name is Licio, borne in Mantua.

Bap. Yare welcome fir, and he for your good ſake.

But for my daughter Katerine, this I know,

She is not for your turne, the more my greeſe.

Pet. I fee you do not meane to part with her.

Or eſſe you like not of my company.

Bap. Miftake me not, I speake but what I finde,

Whence are you fir ? What may I call your name.

Pet. Petruchio is my name, Antonio's ſonne,

A man well knowne throughout all Italy.

Bap. I know him well: you are welcome for his ſake.

Gre. Saving your tale Petruchio, I pray let us that are
poore petitioners speake too? Baccare, you are mervay-
lous forward.

Pet. Oh, Pardon me Signior Gremio, I would faire me bee
doing.

Gre. I doubt it not fir. But you will curfe

Your wooing neighbours: this is a guift

Very grateful, I am fure of it, to expreſſe

The like kindneſſe my felfe, that have beene

More kindly beholding to you then any:

Freely give unto this yong Scholler, that hath

Beene long ſtudying at Rhemes, as cunning

In Greeke, Latine, and other Languages,

As the other in Muficke and Mathematickes :

His name is Cambio : pray accept his feruice.

Bap. A thoufand thankes fignior Gremio:

Welcome good Cambio. But gentle fir,

Me thinkes you walke like a ftranger,

May I be ſo bold, to know the caufe of your comming?

Tra. Pardon me fir, the boldneſſe is mine owne,

That being a ftranger in this Citryce here,

Do make my ſelfe a ſuitor to your daughter,

Vnto Bianca, faire and vertuous :

Nor is your firme refolue unknowne to me,

In the preferment of the eldeſt filter.

This liberty is all that I requeſt,

That upon knowledge of my parentage,

I may have welcome mongſt the reſt that woo,

And free acceſſe and fauour as the reſt.

And toward the education of your daughters,

I heere beſtow aſimple inſtrument,

And this ſmall packet of Greeke and Latine bookeſ,

If you accept them, then their worth is great :

Bap. Lucentio is your name, of whence I pray:

Tra. Of Pifef fir, ſonne to Vinfencio.

Bap. A mightie man of Pifaby report,

I know him well: you are very welcome fir :

Take you the Lute, and you the fer of bookeſ,

You ſhall go fee your Pupils prefently.

Holla, within.

Enter a Servant.

Sirrah, leade theſe Gentlemen

To my two daughters, and then tell them both

Theſe are their Tutors, bid them uſe them well,

We will go walke a little in the Orchard,

And then to dinner: you are paffing welcome,

And fo I pray you all to thinke yonr ſelves,

Pet. Signior Baptista, my buſineſſe asketh haſte,

And everie day I cannot come to wooe,

You know my father well, and in him me,

Left ſolie heire to al his Lands and goods,

Which I have bettered rather then decreaſt,

Then tell me, if I get your daughters love,

What dowie ſhall I have with her to wife.

Bap. After my death, the one haſe of my Lands,

And in poſſession twentie thouſand Crownes.

Pet. And for that dowie, Ile affure her of
Her widdow-hood, be it that ſhe furvive me
In all my Lands and Leafes whoſoever,

Let ſpecialties be therefore drawne betweene us,

That covenants may be kept on either hand.

Bap. I, when the ſpeciall thing is well obtain'd,
That is her love: for that is all in all!

Pet. Why that is nothing: for I tell you father,
I am as peremptorie as ſhe proud minded :

And where two raging fires meete together,

They do confume the thing that feedes their ſurie.

Though little fire growes great with little winde,

Yet extreame guilts will blow out fire and all:

So I to her, and ſo the yeelds to me,

For I am rough, and woo not like a babe.

Bap. Well maſt thou woo, and happy bee thy ſpeed :

But be thou arm'd for ſome unhappie words.

Pet. I to the proofe, as Mountaines are for windes,
That ſhake not, though they blow perpetually.

Enter Hortenſio with his head broke.

Bap.

216

The Taming of the Shrew.

Bap. How now my friend, why doft thou looke so pale?
Hor. For feare I promite you, if I hooke pale.
Bap. What, will my daughter prove a good Mufitian?
Hor. I thinke she'l fooner prove a fouldier,
Iron may hold with her, but never Lutes.
Bap. Why then thou canſt not break her to the Lute?
Hor. Why no, for ſhe hath broke the Lute to me:
I did but tell her the miſtooke her frets,
And bow'd her hand to teach her fingering,
When (with a moſt impatient divellifh ſpirit)
Frets call you theſe? (quoth ſhe) Ile fume with them:
And with that word ſhe ſtroke me on the head,
And through the instrument my pate made way,
And there I ſtood amazed for a while,
As on a Pillorie, looking through the Lute,
While ſhe did call me Raſcal, Fidler,
And twangling Iacke, with twenty ſuch vilde tearmes,
As had ſhe ſtudied to miſuſe me ſo.
Pet. Now by the world, it is a luſly Wench
I love her ten times more then ere I did,
Oh how I long to have ſome chat with her.
Ba. Wel go with me, and be not ſo diſcomſtified.
Proceed in prafitje with my yonger daughter,
She's apt to learne, and thankefull for good turnes:
Signior Petruchio; will you go with us,
Or ſhall I ſend my daughter Kate to you?
Exit. Manet Petruchio.
Pet. I pray you do. I will attend her heere.
And woo her with ſome ſpirit when ſhe comes.
Say that ſhe raile, why then Ile tell her plaine,
She ſings as fweetly as a Nightingale:
Say that ſhe frowne, Ile ſay ſhe lookes as cleere
As morning Rofes newly waſht with dew:
Say ſhe be mute, and will not ſpeake a word,
Then Ile commend her volubility,
And ſay ſhe vttereth piercing eloquence:
If ſhe do bid me packe, Ile give her thankes,
As though ſhe bid me ſtay by her a weeke:
If ſhe deny to wed, Ile c:ave the day
When I ſhall aske the banes, and when be married.
But heere ſhe comes, and now Petruchio ſpeake.

Enter Katerina.

Good morrow Kate, for that's your name I heare.
Kat. Well have you heard, but ſomething hard of
hearing:
They call me Katerine, that do talke of me.
Pet. You lye infaith, for you are call'd plaine Kate,
And bony Kate, and ſometimes Kate the curſt:
But Kate, the prettieſt Kate in Chriftendome,
Kate of Kate-hall, my ſuper-dainty Kate,
For dainties are all Kates, and therefore Kate
Take this of me, Kate of my conſolation,
Hearing thy mildneſſe prais'd in euery Towne,
Thy vertues ſpoke of, and thy beauty founded,
Yet not ſo deeply as to thee belongs,
My ſelſe am moov'd to woo thee for my wife.
Kat. Mov'd, in good time, let him that mov'd you
hether
Remove you hence: I knew you at the firſt
You were a mouable.
Pet. Why, what's a mouable?
Kat. A joyn'd toſtole.
Pet. Thou haſt hit it: come fit on me.
Kat. Aſſes are made to beare, and ſo are you.

Pet. Women are made to beare, and ſo are you.
Kat. No ſuch Iade fir as you, if me you meane.
Pet. Alas good Kate, I will not burthen thee,
For knowing thee to be but yong and light.
Kat. To light for ſuch a twaine as you to catch,
And yet as heavy as my waight ſhould be.
Pet. Should be, ſhould: buſze.
Kat. Well tane, and like a buzzard.
Pet. Oh flow-wing'd Turtle, ſhal a buzzard take theſe?
Kat. I for a Turtle, as he takes a buzzard.
Pet. Come, come you Wafpe, y'faith you are too
angry.
Kat. If I be waſpith, beſt beware my ſting.
Pet. My remedy is then to plucke it out.
Kat. I, if the ſoſle could ſinde it where it lies.
Pet. Who knowes not where a Wafpe does weare
his ſting? In his taile.
Kat. In his tongue?
Pet. Whofe tongue.
Kat. Yours if you talke of tales, and ſo farewell.
Pet. What with my tongue in your taile.
Nay, come againe, good Kate, I am a Gentleman,
Kat. That Ile trie.
Pet. I ſware Ile cuffe you, if you ſtrike againe.
Kat. So may you looke your armes,
If you ſtrike me, you are no Gentleman,
And if no Gentleman, why then no armes.
Pet. A Herald Kate? Oh put me in thy bookes.
Kat. What is your Creſt, a Coxcombe?
Pet. A combleſſe Cocke, ſo Kate will be my Hen.
Kat. No Cocke of mine, you crow too like a craven.
Pet. Nay come Kate; come; you muſt not looke ſo
ſowre.
Kat. It is my fashion when I fee a Crab.
Pet. Why heere's no crab, and therefore lookenot
ſowre.
Kat. There is, there is.
Pet. Then ſhew it me.
Kat. Had I a glaſſe, I would.
Pet. What, you meane my face.
Kat. We'll aym'd of ſuch a yong one.
Pet. Now by S. George I am too yong for you.
Kat. Yet you are wither'd.
Pet. 'Tis with cares.
Kat. I care not.
Pet. Nay heare you Kate. Inſooth you ſape not ſo.
Kat. I chafe you if I tatrie. Let me go.
Pet. No, not a whit, I finde you paffing gentle:
'Twas told me you were rough, and coy, and ſullen,
And now I finde report a very liar,
For thou art pleafant, gameſome, paffing courteous,
But flow in ſpeach, yet ſweet as ſpring-time flowers.
Thou canſt not frowne, thou canſt not ſoak a ſcance,
Nor bite the lip, as angry wenches will,
Nor haſt thou pleasure to be croſſe in talke:
But thou with mildneſſe entertain't thy wooters,
With gentle conference, toſt, and affable.
Why does the world report that Kate doth limpe?
Oh ſland'rous world: Kate like the hazle twig
Is ſtraight, and flender, and as browne in hue
As hazle nuts, and ſweeter then the kernels:
Oh let me fee thee walke: thou doſt not halt.
Kat. Go ſoole, and whom thou keepſt command.
Pet. Did ever Dian ſo become a Grove
As Kate this chamber with her princely gate;
O be thou Dian, and let her be Kate,

And

["The Taming of the Shrew.", "And then let Kate be chafte, and Dian sportfull.", "Kate. Where did you study all this goodly speech?", "Pet. It is extempore, from my mother wit.", "Kate. A witty mother, witless elfe her fonne.", "Pet. Am I not wife ?", "Kat. Yes, keepe you warme.", "Pet. Marry fo I meane sweet Katherine in thy bed :", "And therefor sitting all this chat aside,", "Thus in plain terms : your father hath confefted\nThat you shall be my wife : your dowry greed on,\nAnd will you, till you, I will marry you.", "Now Kate, I am a husband for your turne,", "For by this light, whereby I fee thy beauty,\nThy beauty that doth make me like thee well,\nThou must be married to no man but me,", "Enter Baptista, Gremio, Trayno.", "For I am he am borne to tame you Kate,", "And bring you from a wild Kat to a Kate", "Conformable as other household Kates:", "Heere comes your father, never make denial,", "I mult, and will have Katherine to my wife. (daughter ?", "Bap. Now Signior Petruchio, how speed you with my\nPet. How but well fir ? how but well?", "It were imposſible I should speed amiffie. (dumps p", "Bap. Why how now daughter Katherine, in your", "Kat. Call you me daughter ? now I promife you", "You have fewd a tenter fatherely regard,", "To wifh me wed to one half Lunaticke,", "A mad-cap ruffian, and a fwearing lacke,", "That thinkes with oaths to face the matter out.", "'Tis Father, 'tis thus, your selfe and all the world", "That talk'd of her, have talk'd an amife of her :", "If she be curſt, it is for policy,", "For she's not troward, but modeſt as the Dove,", "Shee is not hot, but temperate as the morne,", "For patience ſhe will prove a ſecond Griffet,", "And Roman Lucrece for her chaffity :", "And to conclude, we have greed ſo well together,", "That upon ſonday is the wedding day.", "Kat. He fee thee hang'd on ſonday firſt. (firſt-", "Gre. Harke Petruchio, the fayes ſhe'll fee thee has'd", "Tra. Is this your ſpeeding? may then godnight our part.", "Pet. Be patient gentlemen. I choofe her for my ſelfe,", "If ſhe and I be pleas'd, what's that to you ?", "'Tis baſtard twixt us twaine being alone,", "That ſhe haſt (fill) be curſt in company.", "I tell you 'tis incredible to believee", "How much ſhe loves me : on the kindeft Kate,", "Shee hang about my necke, and kiffe on kiffe", "Shee vi'd to faſt, proteſting oath on oath,", "That in a twinke ſhe won me to her love.", "Oh you are novices, 'tis a world to fee", "How tame when men and women are alone,", "A meacocke wench can make the curſt ſhrew :", "Give me thy hand Kate. I will unto Venice", "To buy apparell 'gainst the wedding day;", "Provide the feast father, and bid the gueſts,", "I will be ſure my Katherine ſhall be fine.", "Bap. I know not what to ſay, but give me your hands,", "God fend you joy, Petruchio, 'tis a match.", "Gre. Tra. Amen ſay we, we will be wittieſes.", "Pet. Father, and wife, and gentlemen adieu,", "I will to Venice, ſonday comes space,", "We will have rings, and things, and fine array,", "And kiffe me Kate, we will be married a ſonday.", "Exit Petruchio, and Katherine.", "Gre. Was ever match clapt up ſo fondately ?", "Bap. Faith Gentlemen now I play a merchants part,", "And venture madly on a desperate Mart.", "Tra. Twas a commodity lay fretting by you,", "'I will bring you gaine, or perſon the ſeas.", "Bap. The gaine I feeke, is quiet me the match.", "Gre. No doubt but he hath got a quiet catch:", "But now Baptista, to your yonger daughter,", "Now is the day we long have looked for,", "I am your neighbour, and was further firſt.", "Tra. And I am one that love Bianca more", "Then words can witneſſe, or your thoughts can gueſſe,", "Gre. Yongling, thou canſt not love ſo deare as I", "Tra. Gray-beard thy love doth freeze.", "Gre. But thine doth try,", "Skipper ſtand backe, 'tis age that nouriſheth.", "Tra. But youth in Ladies eyes that florifeth.", "Bap. Content you gentlemen, I will compound this", "'Tis deeds muſt win the prize, and he of both (ſirſe,", "That can affure my daughter greatest dower,", "Shall have Biancas love.", "Say ſignior Gremio, what can you affure her ?", "Gre. Firſt, as you know, my houſe within the City", "Is richly ſimſhed with plate and gold,", "Bafons and ewers to lave her dainty hands :", "My hangings all of tirian tapeſury :", "In Iuory cofers I have ſtuſt my crownes :", "In Cypres cheſts my arras counterpoints,", "Coſtly apparell, tents, and Canopies,", "Fine Linnen, Turky cuſhions boſt with pearle,", "Valiens of Venice gold, in needle worke :", "Pewter and braſſe, and all things that belongs.", "To houſe or houſe-keeping : then at my farme", "I have a hundred milch-kine to the pailſ,", "Sixe-fcore fat Oxen ſtanding in my italls,", "And all things anſwerable to this portion.", "My ſelfe am ſtrooke in yeeres I muſt confefſſe,", "And if I dye to morrow this is hers,", "If whilſt I live ſhe will be only mine.", "Tra. That only came well in : fir, lift to me,", "I am my Fathers heyre and only ſonne,", "If I may have your daughter to my wife,", "I leave her houſes three or fourc as good", "Within rich Pisa walls, as any one", "Old Signior Gremio has in Padua,", "Befides, two thouſand Ducks by the yeere", "Of ſtruitfull land, all which ſhall be her joynter.", "What, have I pinched you Signior Gremio ?", "Gre. Two thouſand Ducks by the yeere of land,", "My Land amounts not to ſo much in all :", "That ſhe ſhall have, beſides an Argofie", "That now is lying in Marfellis road :", "What, have I choakt you with an Argofie ?", "Tra. Gremio, 'tis knowne my father hath no leſſe", {"bbox": [500, 1152, 817

218

The Taming of the Shrew.

She is your owne, elfe you muft pardon me:
If you should dye before him, where's her dower ?

Tra. That's but a cavill : he is old, I young.

Gre. And may not yong men dye as well as old ?

Bap. Well gentlemen, I am thus refolv'd,

On fonderay next, you know

My daughter Katherine is to be married :

Now on the fonderay following, shall Bianca

Be Bride to you, if you make this affurance :

If not, to Signior Gremio :

And fo I take my leave, and thanke you both. Exit.

Gre. Adieu good neighbour : now I feare thee not :

Sirra, yong gamefter, your father were a foole

To give thee all, and in his wayning age

Set foot under thy table : tut, a toy,

An old Italian ftoxe is not fo kind my boy. Exit.

Tra. A vengeance on your crafty withered hide,

Yet I have fac'd it with a card of ten :

'Tis in my head to doe my mafter good :

I fee no reafon but fuppос'd Lucentio

Muft get a father, call'd fuppос'd Vincentio,

And that's a wonder : fathers commonly

Do get their children : but in this cafe of wooing,

A child shall get a fire, if I faile not of my cunning. Exit.

Actus Tertius.

Enter Lucentio, Hortentio, and Bianca.

Luc. Fidler forbeare, you grow too forward Sir,
Have you fo foone forgot the entertainment

Her fifter Katherine welcom'd you withall?

Hort. But wrangling pedant, this is

The patronſeſe of heavenly harmony :

Then give me leave to have prerogative,

And when in Muficke we have ſpent an houre,

Your Lecture ſhall have leifure for a much.

Luc. Prepoſterous Aſſe that never read ſo farre,

To know the caufe why muſicke was ordain'd :

Was it not to refrefh the mind of man

After his ſtudies, or his uſuall paine ?

Then give me leave to reade Philofophy,

And while I paufe, ſerve in your harmony.

Hort. Sirra, I will not beare theſe braves of thine.

Bian. Why gentlemen, you doe me double wrong,

To ſtrive for that which reſteth in my choyce :

I am no breeching ſcholler in the ſchooles,

Ile not be tied to hours, nor pointed times,

But learne my Lefſons as I pleafe my ſelfe,

And to cut off all ſtrife : heere fit we downe,

Take you your inſtrument, play you the whileſes,

His Lecture will be done ere you have tun'd.

Hort. You'll leave his Lecture when I am in tune?

Luc. That will be never, tune your inſtrument.

Bian. Where left we laſt ?

Luc. Heere Madam : Hic Ibat Simois, hie eſt ſigeia tel-
lus, hie ſleterat Priami regia Celfa ſenis.
Bian. Conſter them.

Luc. Hic Ibat, as I told you before, Simois, I am Lu-
centio, hie eſt, ſonne unto Vincemio of Pifa, ſigeia tel-
lus, diſguifed thus to get your love, hie ſleterat, and that
Lucentio that comes a wooing, priami, is my man Tranio,
regia, bearing my port, celfa ſenis that we might beguile
the old Pantaloune.

Hort. Madam, my inſtruments' in tune.

Bian. Let's heare, oh ſie, the treble jarres.

Luc. Spit in the hole man, and tune againe.

Bian. Now let me fee if I can conſter it. Hic ibus ſi-
mois, I know you not; hie eſt ſigeia tellos, I truſt you not,
hie ſleterat priami, take heed he heare us not, regia pro-
fume not, Celfa ſenis, deſpaire nor.

Hort. Madam, 'tis now in tune.

Luc. All but the bafe.

Hort. The bafe is right, 'tis the bafe knave that jars.

Luc. How fiery and forward our Pedant is,

Now for my life that knave doth court my love,

Pedafule, Ile watch you better yet :

In time I may beleeve, yet I miſtruſt.

Bian. Miftruſt it not, for ſure Aćides

Was Aſtax cald ſo from his grandfather.

Hort. I muſt beleeve my Maſter, elſe I promife you,
I should be arguing full upon that doubt,

But let it reſt, now Liiſoto you :

Good maſter take it not unkindly pray

That I have beene thus pleafant with you both.

Bian. You may goe walke, and give me leave a while,
My Lefſons make no muſicke in three parts.

Luc. Are you to ſormall fir, well I muſt waite
And watch withall, for but I be deceiv'd,
Our fine Mufitian groweth amorous.

Hor. Madam, before you touch the inſtrument,
To learne the order of my fingering,
I muſt begin with rudiments of Art,
To teach you gamoth in a briefer ſort,
More pleafant, pithy, and effectuall,
Then hath beene taught by any of my trade,
And there it is in writing fairely drawne.

Bian. Why, I am paſt my gamoth long agee.

Hor. Yet reade the gamoth of Hortenſio.

Bian. Gamoth I am, the ground of all accord :

Are, to plead Hortenſio's paffion :

Teeme, Bianca take him for thy Lord

Cfavt, that loves with all affection :

D ſolre, one Cliffe, two notes have I,

Elami, show pitty or I dye.

Call you this gamoth ? tut I like it not,

Old fathions pleafe me beſt, I am not ſo nice

To change true rules for old inventions.

Enter a Meſſenger.

Nicke, Miftreſſe, your father prays you leave your
And help to drefſe your lifters chamber up, (bookes,
You know to morrow is the wedding day.

Bian. Farewell Iweet maſters both, I muſt be gone.

Luc. Faith Miftreſſe then I have no cauſe to ſlay.

Hor. But I have cauſe to pry into this pedant,

Methinkes he lookes as though he were in love:

Yet if thy thoughts Bianca be ſo humble

To caſt thy wandring eyes on every ſtale :

Seize thee that Lift, ifonce I find thee ranging,

Hortenſio will be quit with thee by changing. Exit.

Enter Baptifla, Gremio, Tranio, Katherine, Bianca, and others, attendants.

Bap. Signior Lucentio, this is the pointed day
That Katherine and Petruchio ſhould be married,
And yet we heare not of our ſonne in Law :
What will be faid, what mockery will it be?

To want the Bride-groome when the Prieft attends

To ſpeak the ceremoniall rites of marriage?

What fayes Lucentio to this ſhame of ours?

No

The Taming of the Shrew.

Kate. No shame but mine, I must forfooth be forft
To give my hand opp'd against my heart
Vnto a mad-braine rudesby, full of Ipleene,
Who woo'd in haſte, and meanes to wed at leyſure :
I told you I, he was a franticke foole,
Hiding his bitter jeſts in blunt behaviour,
And to be noted for a merry man :
He'll wooe a thouſand, point the day of marriage,
Make friends, invite yes and proclaime the banes,
Yet never meanes to wed where he hath woo'd :
Now muſt the world point at poore Katherine,
And fay, Ioe, there is mad Petruchio's wife
If it would pleafe him come and marry her.

Tra. Patience good Katherine and Baptista too,
Vpon my life Petruchio meanes but well,
Whatever fortune ſlayes him from his word,
Though he be blunt, I know him paſſing wife,
Though he be merry, yet withall he's honet.

Kate. Would Katherine had never feene him though.

Exit weeping.

Bap. Goe girle, I cannot blame thee now to weepe,
For ſuch an injury would vexe a ſaint,
Much more a ſhrew of thy impatient humour.

Enter Biondello.

Bion. Maſter, maſter, newes, and ſuch newes as you never heard of.

Bap. Is it new and old too? how may that be?

Bio. Why, is it not newes to heare of Petruchio's com-

Bap. Is he come ?

(ming ?)

Bio. Why no fir.

Bap. What then ?

Bio. He is comming.

Bap. When will he be heere ?

Bio. When he ſtands where I am, and fees you there.

Tra. But fay, what to thine old newes?

Bio. Why Petruchio is comming, in a new hat and an
old jerkin, a paire of old breeches thrice turn'd; a paire
of bootes that have beene candle-caſes, one buckled, an-
other lac'd : an old rufy ſword tane out of the Towne
Armory, with a broken hilt, and chapeleſſe: with two
broken points : his horſe hip'd with an old mothy ſad-
dle, the ſtrirops of no kindred: beſides poſſeft with the
glanders, and like to mofe in the chine, troubled with the
Lampaſſe, inſected with the ſaſhions, full of Windegalls
ſped with Spavins, raied with the Yellowes, paſt cure
of the Fives, ſtarke ſpoyld with the Staggers, begnawne
with the Bots, Waid in the backe, and shoulder-ſhotten,
neere leg'd before, and with a halfe-chek't Bitte, and a
headſtall of ſheepes leather, which being reſtrain'd to
keepe him from ſtumbling, hath beene often burſt, and
now repaired with knots: one girth ſixt times peec'd, and
a wemens Crupper of velure, which hath two letters for
her name, faireſly ſet dowee in ſtuds, and heere and there
peec'd with packthred.

Bap. Who comes with him ?

Bio. Oh fir, bis Lackey, for all the world Caparifon'd
like the horſe: with a linnen ſlocke on one leg, and a
kerſey boot-hofe on the other, gartred with a red and
blew lift; an old hat, and the humor of forty ſancies prickt
in't for a feather: a monſter, a very monſter in apparell,
and not like a Chriſtian foot-boy, or a gentlemen's Lacky.

Tra. 'Tis ſome odde humor pricks him to this ſaſhion,
Yet oftentimes he goes but meane apparel'd.

Bap. I am glad he's come, how often he comes.

Bion. Why fir, he comes not.

Bap. Didst thou not fay he comes?

Bion. Who, that Petruchio came ?

Bap. I, that Petruchio came

(backe.

Bion. No fir, I fay his horſe comes with him on his

Bap. Why that's all one.

Bion. Nay by S. I am, I hold you a penny, a horſe and
a man is more then one, and yet not many.

Enter Petruchio, and Grumio.

Pet. Come, where be theſe gallants ? who's at home ?

Bap. You are welcome fir.

Pet. And yet I come not well.

Bap. And yet you halt not.

Tra. Not ſo well apparell'd as I with you were.

Pet. Were it better I should rufh in thus :

But where is Kate? where is my lovely Bride ?

How does my father ? gentles methinkes you frowne,

And wherefore gaze this goodly company?

As if they faw ſome wondrous monument,

Some Commet, or unuſuall prodigy ?

Bap. Why fir, you know this is your wedding day :
First were we ſad, fearing you would not come,

Now ſadder that you come ſo unprovided :

Eye, doffe this habit, ſhame to your eſtate,

An eye-fore to our ſolemne ſeſtivall.

Tra. And tell us what occafion of import

Hath all ſo long detain'd you from your wife:

And ſent you hither ſo unlike your ſelfe ?

Pet. Tedious it were to tell, and hafth to heare,

Sufficeth I am come to keepe my word,

Though in ſome part inſorced to digreſſe,

Which at more leyſure I will ſo excufe,

As you ſhall well be ſatified with all.

But where is Kate ? I ſlay too long from her.

The morning weares, 'tis time we were at Church.

Tra. See not your Bride in theſe unreverent robes,

Goe to my chamber, put on clothes of mine.

Pet. Not I, beleeve me, thus Ile fit your.

Bap. But thus I truſt you will not marry her. (words.

Pet. Good foot even thus : therefore ha done with

To me ſhe's married, not unto my cloathes :

Could I repaire what ſhe will weare in me,

As I can change theſe poore accoutrements,

'Twere well for Kate, and better for my ſelfe.

But what a ſoole am I to chat with you,

When I should bid good morrow to my Bride ?

And ſeale the title with a lovely kiffe.

Exit.

Tra. He hath ſome meaning in his mad attire,

We will perfuade him be it poſſible,

To put on better ere he goe to Church.

Bap. Ile after him, and fee the event of this.

Exit.

Tra. But fir, Love concerneth us to adde.

Her fathers liking, which to bring to paffe

As before I imparted to your worſhip,

I am to get a man what ere he be,

It skills not much, weele fit him to our turne,

And he ſhall be Vincentio of Pisa,

And make ſ assurance heere in Padua

Of greater ſummes then I have promifed,

So ſhall you quietly enjoy your hope,

And marry ſweet Bianca with confent.

Luc. Were it not that my fellow ſchoolemaſter

Doth watch Bianca's ſteps ſo narrowly :

'Twere good me-thinkes to ſeale our marriage,

Which once perform'd, let all the world ſay no,

Ile keepe mine owne deſpight of all the world.

Tra. That by degrees we meane to looke into,

T2

And

["The Taming of the Shrew.", "220", "And watch our vantage in this busineſſe,\nWe'll over-reach the grey-beard Gremio,\nThe narrow prying father Minola,\nThe quaint Muſcian, amorous Lisio,\nAll for my Maſters ſake Lucentio.", "Enter Gremio.", "Signior Gremio, came you from the Church ?", "Gre. As willingly as ere I came from Schoole.", "Tra. And is the Bride and Bridegroom comming home?", "Gre. A bridegroome ſay you ? 'tis a groome indeed,\nA grumbling groome, and that the girl ſhall find.", "Tra. Curſter then he, why 'tis impoffible.", "Gre. Why hee's a devill, a devill, a very fiend.", "Tra. Why he's a devill, a devill, the devil's damme.", "Gre. Tut, he'ta Lambe, a Dove, a foole to him :", "Ile tell you fir Lucentio ; when the Prieft", "Should aske if Katherine ſhould be his wife,", "I, by goggs woones quoth he, and ſwere so loud,\nThat all amaz'd the Prieft let fall the booke,", "And as he ſloop'd againe to take it up,", "This mad-brain'd bridegroome tooke him ſuch a cuffe,\nThat downe fell Prieft and booke, and booke and Prieft,\nNow take them up quoth he, if any lift.", "Tra. What faid the wench when he roſe up againe ?", "Gre. Trembled and ſhooke : for why, he ſtamp'd and ſwere.", "As if the Vicar meant to cozen him :", "But after many ceremonies done,", "He calls for wine, a health quoth he, as if", "He had beene aboard carowſing to his Maſers", "After a ſtorme; quaſt off the Muſcadell,", "And threw the fops all in the Sextons face :", "Having no other reaſon, but that his beard", "Grew thinne and hungerly, and ſeem'd to aske", "Him fops as he was drinking : This done, he tooke", "The Bride about the necke, and kift her lips", "With ſuch a clamorous ſmacke, that at the parting,", "All the Church did eccho : and I ſeeing this,", "Came thence for very ſhame, and after me,", "I know the rout is comming; ſuch a mad marriage", "Never was before : harke, harke, I heare the minſtrels play.", "Muſicke players.", "Enter Petruchio, Kate, Bianca, Hortensio, Baptista.", "Pet. Gentlemen and friends, I thanke you for your", "I know you thinke to dine with me to day, (paines,", "And have prepar'd great flore of wedding cheere,", "But fo it is, my haſte doth call me hence,", "And therefore here I meane to take my leave.", "Bap. Is't poffible you will away to night ?", "Pet. I muſt away to day before night co ne,", "Make it no wonder : if you knew my busineſſe,", "You would intreat me rather goe then ſlay :", "And honelt company, I thanke you all,", "That have beheld me give away my ſelfe", "To this moſt patient, ſweet, and vertuous wife,", "Dine with my father, drinke a health to me,", "For I muſt hence, and farewell to you all.", "Tra. Let us intreat you ſlay till after dinner.", "Pet. It may not be.", "Gre. Let me intreat you.", "Pet. It cannot be.", "Kat. Let me intreat you.", "Pet. I am content.", "Kat. Are you content to ſlay ?", "Pet. I am content you ſhall entreat me ſlay,\nBut yet not ſlay, entreat me how you can.", "Kate. Now if you love me ſlay.", "Pet. Grumio, my horſe.", "Gru. I fir, they be ready, the Oates have eaten the horſes.", "Kate. Nay then,", "Doe what thou canſt, I will not goe to day,", "No, nor to morrow, not till I pleafe my ſelfe,", "The dore is open fir, there lyes your way,", "You may be jogging whiles your bootes are greene :", "For me, Ile not be gone till I pleafe my ſelfe,", "'Tis like you'll prove a jolly ſurly groome,", "That take it on you at the firſt to roundly.", "Pet. O Kate content thee, prethee be not angry.", "Kat. I will be angry, what haſt thou to doe ?", "Father, be quiet, he ſhall ſtay my leisure.", "Gre. I marry fir, now it begins to worke.", "Kat. Gentlemen, forward to the bridall dinner.", "I fee a woman may be made a foole", "If he had not a ſpirit to refiſt.", "Pet. They ſhall goe forward Kate at thy command,", "Obey the Bride you that attend on her.", "Goe to the feaſt, revell and domineere,", "Carowſe full meaſure to her maiden-head,", "Be madde and merry, or goe hang you ſelves :", "But for my bonny Kate, he ſmulf with me :", "Nay, leoke not big, nor ſtampe, nor ſtare, nor fret,", "I will be maſter of what is mine owne,", "Shee is my goods, my chattels, he is my houſe,", "My houſhold-fluffe, my field, my barne,", "My horſe, my oxe, my afle, my any thing,", "And heere he ſtands, touch her who ever dare,", "Ile bring mine action on the proudeſt he,", "That ſlops my way in Padua : Grumio", "Draw forth thy weapon, we are beſet with theeves,", "Reſcue thy Miroſſe if thou be a man :", "Feare not ſweet wench, they ſhall not touch thee Kate,", "Ile buckler thee againſt a Million.", "Exeunt. P. Ka.", "Bap. Nay, let them goe, a couple of quiet ones. (ing", "Gre. Went they not quickly, I should dye with lough-", "Tra. Of all mad matches never was the like.", "Lnc. Miroſſe, what's your opinion of your ſifter ?", "Bian. That being mad her ſelfe, he's madly mated.", "Gre. I warrant him Petruchio is Kated.", "Bap. Neighbours and friends, though Bride and Bride-", "For to ſupply the places at the table, (groome wants", "You know there wants no junkets at the feaſt :", "Lucentio, you ſhall ſupply the Bridegroomes place,", "And let Bianca take her ſifters roome.", "Tra. Shall ſweet Bianca practise how to bride it?", "Bap. She ſhall Lucentio : come gentlemen lets goe.", "Enter Grumio.", "Exeunt.", "Gru. Fye, ſie on all tired Iades, on all mad Maſters, and\nall foule wayes : was ever man ſo beaten ? was ever man\nſo raide ? was ever man to weary ? I am ſent before to\nmake a fire, and they are comming after to warme them:\nnow were not I a little pot, and ſoone hot ; my very lips\nmight freeze to my teeth, my tongue to the roofe of my\nmouth, my heart in my belly, ere I should come by a fire\nto thaw me, but I with blowing the fire ſhall warme my\nſelfe : for confidering the weather, a taller man then I\nwill take cold : Holla, hoa Curtis.", "Enter Curtis.", "Curt. Who is that calls ſo coldly ?", "Gru. A piece of Ice : if thou doubt it, thou maſt\nflide from my ſhoulder to

The Taming of the Shrew.

grater a run but my head and my necke. A fire good *Cur-
tis*.

*Cur.* Is my Maſter and his wife comming Grümio?

*Gru.* Oh I *Curtis* I, and therefore fire, fire, caſt on no water.

*Cur.* Is she so hot a ſhrew as she's reported.

*Gru.* She was good *Curtis* before this ſtoſt : but thou know't winter tames man, woman, and beaſt : for it hath tam'd my old maſter, and my new miſtris, and my ſelfe fellow *Curtis*.

*Cur.* Away you three inch foole, I am no beaſt.

*Gru.* Am I but three inches? Why thy horne is a foot and ſo long am I at the leaſt. But wilt thou make a fire, or ſhall I complaine on thee to our miſtris, whoſe hand (he being now at hand) thou ſhalt foone feele, to thy cold comfort, for being flow in thy hot office.

*Cur.* I prethee good Grumio, tell me, how goes the world?

*Gru.* A cold world *Curtis* in every office but thine, and therefore fire : doe thy duty, and have thy duty, for my Maſter and miſtris are almoſt frozen to death.

*Cur.* There's fire ready, and therefore good Grumio the newes.

*Gru.* Why Iacke boy, ho boy, and as much newes as thou wilt.

*Cur.* Come, you are ſo full of conicatching.

*Gru.* Why therefore fire, for I have caught extreme cold. Where's the Cooke, is ſupper ready, the horſe trim'd, ruffes ſtrew'd, cobwebs ſwept, the ſerving man in their new ſuſtian, the white flockings, and every offiſer his wedding garment on? Be the lacke faire within, the Gills faire without, the Carpets laid, and every thing in order?

*Cur.* All ready : and therefore I pray thee what newes.

*Gru.* First know my horſe is tired, my maſter and miſtris falne out.

*Gru.* Out of their faddles into the *durt*, and thereby hangs a tale.

*Cur.* Let's ha't good Grumio.

*Gru.* Lend thine eare.

*Cur.* Heere.

*Gru.* There.

*Cur.* This 'tis to feele a tale, not to heare a tale.

*Gru.* And therefore 'tis cal'd a ſenſible tale : and this Cuffe was but to knocke at your eare, and beſeech lifting : now I begi, Inprimis we came downe a ſoule hill, my Maſter riding bebinde my Miſtris.

*Cur.* Both of one horſe?

*Gru.* What's that to thee?

*Cur.* Why a horſe.

*Gru.* Tell thou the tale : but hadſt thou not croſt me, thou ſhouldt have heard how thy horſe ſell, and ſhe under her horſe : thou ſhouldt have heard in how miery a place, how ſhe was bemoil'd, how he left her with the horſe upon her, how he beat me becauſe her horſe ſtumbled, how ſhe waded through the dart to plucke him oſme : how he ſwore, how ſhe prai'd, that never prai'd before: how I cryed, how the horſes ranne away, how her bridle was burſt: how I loft my crupper, with many things of worthy memory, which now ſhall dye in obliuion, and thou returne unexperienc'd to thy grave.

*Cur.* By this reckning he is more ſhrew than ſhe.

*Gru.* I, and that thou and the proudeſt of you all ſhall find when he comes home. But what talke I of this? Call forth Nathaniel, Ioseph, Nicholas, Philip, Walter, Sugerop and the reſt : let their heads bee flickely comb'd,

their blew coats bruth'd, and their garters of an indiſſerent knit, lot them curſtſe with their left legges, and not prefume to touch a haire of my Maſters horſe-raile, till they kiffe their hands. Are they all ready?

*Cur.* They are.

*Gru.* Call them forth.

*Cur.* Doe you heare ho ? you muſt meet my maſter to countenance my Miſtris.

*Gru.* Why ſhe hath a face of her owne.

*Cur.* Who knowes not that?

*Gru.* Thou it ſeemes, that calls for company to countenance her.

*Cur.* I call them forth to credit her.

*Enter future or ſive ſerving men.*

*Gru.* Why ſhe comes to borrow nothing of them.

*Nat.* Welcome home Grumio.

*Phil.* How now Grumio.

*Iof.* What Grumio.

*Nick.* Fellow Grumio.

*Narb.* How now old lad.

*Gru.* Welcome you : how now you : what you : fellow you : and thus much for greeting. Now my ſpruce companions, is all ready, and all things neate?

*Nat.* All things are ready, how neere is our maſter?

*Gre.* E'ne at hand, alighed by this : and therefore be not— Cockes paſſion, filence, I heare my Maſter.

*Enter Petruchio and Kate.*

*Pet.* Where be theſe knaves ? What no man at doore to hold my ſirrop, nor to take my horſe?

*Where is Nathaniel, Gregory, Philip?*

*All ſer.* Heere, heere fir, heere fir.

*Pet.* Heere fir, heere fir, heere fir, heere fir.

*You logger-headed and unpollifth grooms :*

*What ? no attendance ? no regard ? no duty ?*

*Where is the foolifh knave I ſent before ?*

*Gru.* Heere fir, as foolifh as I was before.

*Pet.* You pezant, ſwaine, yon horſon malt-horſe drudge, Did I not bid thee meete me in the Parke?

*And bring along the rafcali knaves with thee?*

*Gru.* N. athaniels coate fir was not fully made,

*And Gabriels pumpos were all unpinkt i'ch heele :*

*There was no Linke to colour Peters hat,*

*And Walters dagger was not come from theheathing :*

*There were none fine, but Adam, Rafe, and Gregory,*
*The reſt were ragged, old, and beggerly,*

*Yet as they are, they come to meete you.*

*Pet.* Goe rafcalls, goe and fetch my ſupper in. E. Ser.*

*Where is the life that late I led ?*

*Where are thofe ? Sit downe Kate.*

*And welcome. Seud, ſound, ſound, ſound.*

*Enter ſervants with ſupper.*

*Why when I ſay ? Nay good ſweet Kate be merry.*

*Off with my boots, you rogues : you villaines, when ?*

*It was the Friar of Orders gray,*

*As he forth walked on his way.*

*Out you rogue, you plucke my foote awry,*

*Take that, and mend the plucking of the other.*

*Be merry Kate : Some water heere : what hoa.*

*Enter one with water.*

*Where's my Spaniel Troilus ? Sirra, get you hence,*

*And bid my cozen Fer diand come hither :*

*One Kate that you muſt kiffe, and be acquainted with.*

*Where are my Slippers? Shall I have ſome water?*

*Come Kate and waſh, and welcome heartily :*

*You horſon villaine, will you let it fall ?*

T 3

Kate

The Taming of the Shrew.

222

Kate. Patience I pray you, 'twas a fault unwilling.
Pet. A horzon beetle-headed flap-ear'd knave :
Come Kate fit downe, I know you have a stomacke,
Will you give thankes, sweet Kate, or else shall I ?
What's this, Mutton?

I. Ser. I.

Pet. Who brought it?

Ser. I.

Pet. 'Tis burnt, and so is all the meate :
What dogges are these? Where is the rafcal Cooke ?
How durst you villaines bring it from the dreser
And serve it thus to me that love it not?

There, take it to you, trenchers, cups, and all :
You heedleffe jolt-heads, and unmanner'd flaves.
What, doe you grumble ? He be with you straight.

Kate. I pray you husband be not so disquiet,

The meate was well, if you were so contented.

Pet. I tell thee Kate, 'twas burnt and dried away,
And I expreffely am forbid to touch it :
For it engenders choller, planteth anger,
And better 'twere that both of us did faft,
Since of our felves, our felves are chollericke,
Then feede it with such over-rofted fleth :
Be patient, to morrow't shall be mended,
And for this night we'll faft for company.

Come I will bring thee to thy Bridall chamber. Exeunt.

Enter Servants feverally.

Nath. Peter didst ever fee the like?

Peter. He kils her in her owne humor.

Gru. Where is he ?

Enter Curtis a Servant.

Cur. In her chamber, making a fermon of continen-
cy to her, and railles, and fware, and rates, that the (poore
foule) knowes not which way to stand, to looke, to
fpeake, and fits as one new rifen from a dreame. Away,
away, for he is comming hither.

Enter Petruchio.

Pet. Thus have I politickely begun my reigne,
And 'tis my hope to end fucceſſefully :

My Faulcon now is ſharpe, and paſſing empty,
And till the ſtoope, ſhe muſt not be full ſorg'd,
For then ſhe never looks upon her lure.

Another way I have to man my Haggard,
To make her come, and know her Keepers call :
That is, to watch her, as we watch theſe Kites,
That baite, and beate, and will not be obedient :
She eate no meate to day, nor none ſhallate.

Laft night ſhe flept not, nor to night ſhe ſhall not :
As with the meate, ſome undeferred fault

Ile find about the making of the bed,
And heere He fling the pillow, there the boulſter,
This way the Coverlet, another way the fheetes :
I, and amid this hurly I intend,

That all is done in reverend care of her,
And in conclusion, ſhe ſhall watch all night,
And if ſhe chance to nod, Ile rileand brawle,
And with the clamor keepe her ſtill awake :
This is a way to kill a Wife with kindneſſe,
And thus Ile curbe her mad and headſtrong humor :
He that knowes better how to tame a ſhrew,

Now let him ſpeak, 'tis charity to ſhow. Exits.

Enter Tranio, and Hortensio.

Tra. Is't poffible friend Lifo, that miftris Bianca
Doth fancy any other but Lucentio,
I tell you fir, ſhe beares me faire in hand.

Hor. Sir, to satisfie you in what I have faid,

Stand by, and marke the manner of his teaching.

Enter Bianca.

Luc. Now Miftris, profit you in what you reade?

Bian. What Maſter reade you firſt, reſolve me that?

Luc. I reade, that I profefſe the Art to love.

Zéan. And may you prove fir Master of your Art.

Luc. While you ſweet deere prove Miftruffe of my
heart.

Hor. Quicke proceeders marry, now tell me I pray, you
that durſt ſware that your miftris Bianca
Lov'd me in the World ſo well as Lucentio.

Tra. Oh defpightfull Love, unconſtant womankind,
I tell thee Lifo this is wonderfull.

Hor. Miftake no more, I am not Lifo,
Nor a Mufitian as I fee me to be,
But one that ſcorne to live in this diſquife,
For ſuch a one as leaves a Gentleman,
And makes a God of ſuch a Cullion ;
Know fir, that I am cal'd Hortenſo.

Tra. Signior Hortenſio, I have often heard
Of your entire affection to Bianca,
And since mine eyes are witneſſe of her lightneſſe,
I will with you, if you be ſo contented,
Forſwere Bianca, and her love for ever.

Hor. See how they kiffe and court: Signior Lucentio,
Heere is my hand, and heere I firmly vow
Never to wooe her more, but doe forſwere her
As one unworthy all the former favours
That I have fondly flatter'd them withall.

Tra. And here I take the like unfainſtenth oath,
Never to marry with her, though ſhe would intreat,
Fye on her, fee how beaſtly ſhe doth court him.

Hor. Would all the world but he had quite forſworn
For me, that I may ſurely keepe mine oath.

I will be married to a wealthy Widdow,
Ere three dayes paffe, which hath as long lev'd me,
As I have lov'd this proud diſdainefull Haggard,
And ſo farewell ſigniot Lucentio,
Kindneſſe in women, not their Beauteous looks
Shall win my love, and I take my leave,
In reſolution, as I ſwere before.

Tra. Miftris Bianca, bleſſe you with ſuch grace,
As longeth to a Lovers bleſſed caſe :
Nay, I have tane you napping gentle Love,
And have forſworn you with Hortenſio.

Bian. Tranio you jeſt, but have you both forſworn
me?

Tra. Miftris we have.

Luc. I then we are rid of Lifo.

Tra. I'faith he'll have a lufty Widdow now,
That ſhall be woo'd, and wedded in a day.

Bian. God give him joy.

Tra. I, and he'll tame her.

Bian. He ſayes ſo Tranio.

Tra. Faith he is gone unto the taming ſchoole.

Bian. The taming ſchoole: what is there ſuch a place?

Tra. I, miftris, and Petruchio is the maſter,
That teacheth tricks eleven and twenty long,
To tame a ſhrew, and charme her chattering tongue.

Enter Biondello.

Bion. Oh Maſter, maſter, I have watcht ſo long,
That I am dogge-weary, but at laſt I ſped
An ancient Angell comming downe the hill,
Will ſerve the turne.

Tra. What is he Biondello.

Bio. Maſter, a Marcantant, or a pedant,

The Taming of a the Shrew.

I know not what, but formall in apparell,
In gate and countenance furly like a father.

Inc. And what of him Tranio?

Tra. If he be credulous, and trust my tale,
Ile make him glad to feeme Vincentio,
And give allurance to Baptista Minola,
As if he were the right Vincentio.

Take me your love, and then let me alone.

Enter a Pedant.

Ped. God save you fir.

Tra. And you fir, you are welcome.

Travaile you farre on, or are you at the fartheft?

Ped. Sir at the fartheft for a weeke or two,
But then up farther, and as farre as Rome,
And fo to Tripoly, if God lend me life.

Tra. What Countreyman I pray ?

Ped. Of Mantua.

Tra. Of Mantua Sir, marry God forbid,

And come to Padua, careleſſe of your life ?

Ped. My life fir ? how I pray? for that goes hard.

Tra. 'Tis death for any one in Mantua

To come to Padua, know you not the caufe?

Your ſhips are ſtaid at Venice, and the Duke

For private quarrell 'twixt your Duke and him,

Hath publifh'd and proclaim'd it openly :
'Tis marvaile, but that you are but newly come,

You might have heard it elfe proclaim'd about.

Ped. Alas fir, it is worſe for me then ſo,

For I have bils for mony by exchange

From Florence, and mult heere deliver them.

Tra. Well fir, to doe you courteſe,

This will I doe, and this I will adviſe you.

Firſt tell me, have you ever beene at Pifa ?

Ped. I fir, in Pifa have I often beene,

Pifa renowned for grave Citizens.

Tra. Among them know you one Vincentio ?

Ped. I know him not, but I have heard of him :
A Merchaut of incomparable wealth.

Tra. He is my father fir, and footh to fay,

In countnance ſomewhat doth reſemble you.

Bian. As much as an apple doth an oyſter, and all one.

Tra. To fave your life in this extremity,
This favor will I doe you for his ſake,
And thinke it not the worſt of all your fortunes
That you are like to Sir Vincentio.

His name and credite ſhall you undertake,
And in my houſe you ſhall be friendly lodg'd,
Looke that you take upon you as you ſhould,
You underſand me fir: ſo ſhall you ſtay

Till you have done your buſineſſe in the City :
If this be court'ſie fir, accept of it.

Ped. Oh fir I doe, and will repute you ever

The patron of my life and liberty.

Tra. Then goe with me, to make the matter good,
This by the way I let you underſand,

My father is heere look'd for every day,
To paffe allurance of a dowre in marriage

'Twixt me, and one Baptista as daughter heere :
In all theſe circumſtances Ile inſtruct you,

Goe with me fir to clothe you as becomes you. Exennt.

Actus Quartus. Scena Prima.

Enter Katherina, and Grumio.

Gru. No, no forfooth I dare not for my life.

Kat. The more my wrong, the more his ſpite appears.
What, did he marry me to famiſh me?

Beggers that come unto my fathers door,
Vpon intertrey have a prefent almes,

If not, elfe where they meete with charity :

But I, who never knew how to intreate,

Nor never needed that I ſhould intreate,

Am flarv'd for meate, giddy for lacke of fleepe :
With oathes kept waking and with brawling fed,

And that which fpights me more then all theſe wants,

He does it under name of perfect love :

As who ſhould ſay, if I ſhould fleepe or eate

'Twere deadly fickneſſe, or eſſe pretent death.

I prethee goe, and get me home repaſt,

I care not what, to it be hoffoune fooſe.

Gru. What ſay you to a Neats fooſe?

Kat. 'Tis palling good, I prethee let me have it.

Gru. I feare it is too phlegmaticke a meate.

How ſay you to a fat Tripe finely broy'd?

Kate. I like it well, good Grumio fetch it me.

Gru. I cannot tell, I feare, tis cholericke.

What ſay you to a peecce of Beefe and Muſtard?

Kate. A diſh that I doe love to feede upon.

Gru. I, but the Muſtard is too hot a little.

Kate: Why then the Beefe, and let the Muſt and reſt.

Gru. Nay then I will not, you ſhall have the Muſtard
Or eſſe you get no beefe or Grumio.

Kate. Then both or one, or any thing thou wilt.

Gru. Why then the Muſtard without the beefe.

Kate. Goe get thee gone, thou falſe deluding flave.

Beats him.

That feed't me with the very name of meate,

Sorrow on thee, and all the packe of you

That triumpheth thus upon my mifery :

Goe get thee gone, I lay.

Enter Petruchio, and Hortenſo with meate.

Petr. How fares my Kate, what fpeetting all a mort ?

Hor. Miftris, what cheere ?

Kate. Faith as cold as can be.

Pet. Plucke up thy ſpirits, looke cheerefully upon me.
Heere Love, thou feest how diligent I am,

To drefſe thy meate my ſelfe, and bring it thee.

I am ſure Iweet Kate, this kindneſſe merites thankes.

What, not a word ? Nay then, thou louſt it not :

And all my paines is forſted to no proofe.

Heere take away this diſh.

Kate. I pray you let it ſland.

Pet. The pooreſt ſervicè is repaide with thankes,
And ſo ſhall mine before you touch the meate.

Kate. I thanke you fir.

Hor. Signior Petruchio, ſie you are too blame :

Come Miftris Kate, Ile beare you company.

Pet. Eate it up all Hortenſo, if thou loveſt me :

Much good doe it unto thy gentle heart ;

Kate eate apace ; and now my hony Love,

Will we returne unto thy Father's houſe,

And revell it as bravely as the bett,

With ſilken coats and caps, and golden Rings,

With Ruffes and Cuffiſs, and Fardingales, and things :

With Scarſes, and Fannes, and double change of brau'ry,

With Amber Bracelets, Beades, and all this knau'ry.

With haſt thou din'd ? The Tailor ſlaies thy leaſure,
The deede thy body with his ruffling treaſure.

Enter Tailor.

Come

["The Taming of the Shrew.", "Come Tailor, let us see these ornaments.", "Enter Haberdasher.", "Lay forth the gowne. What newes with you fir ?", "Fel. Hereere is the cap your Worship did bespeake.", "Pet. Why this was moulded on a porrenger,", "A Veluet diſh: Fie, fie, 'tis lewd and filthy,", "Why 'tis a cockle or a walnut-shell,", "A knacke, a toy, a tricke, a babies cap :", "Away with it, come let me have a bigger.", "Kate. Ile have no bigger, this doth fit the time,", "And Gentlewomen weareth such caps as thefe.", "Pet. When you ate gentle, you shall have one too,\nAnd not till then.", "Hor. That will not be in haſt.", "Kate. Why fir I truſt I may have leave to ſpeake,", "And ſpeake I will. I am no child, no babe,", "Your betters have indur'd me fay my minde,", "And if you cannot, beſt you ſtop your eares.", "My tongue will tell the anger of my heart,", "Or eſſe my heart concealing it will breake,", "And rather then it ſhall, I will be free,", "Even to the uttermoſt as I pleafe in words.", "Pet. Why thou faſt true, it is a paltry cap,", "A cuſtard coſſen, a bauble, a ſilken pye,", "I love thee well in that thou lik'st it not.", "Kate. Love me, or love me not, I like the cap,", "And it I will have, or I will have none.", "Pet. Thy gowne, why I : come Tailor let us fee't,", "Oh mercy God, what masking fluffe is heere ?", "What this ? a ſleeve ? 'tis like a demi cannon,", "What, up and downe caru'd like an apple-Tart ?", "Heeres ſnip, and nip, and cut, and diſh and flash,", "Liketo a Cenfor in a barbers ſhoppe:", "Why what a devil's name Tailor cal'ſt thou this ?", "Hor. I fee ſhees like to have neither cap nor growne.", "Tai. You bid me make it orderly and well,", "According to the ſashion, and the time.", "Pet. Marry and did : but if you be remembred,", "I did not bid you marre it to the time.", "Goe hop me over every kennell home,", "For you ſhall hop without my cuſtome fir :", "Ile none of it : hence, make your beſt of it.", "Kate. I never faw a better ſashion'd gowne,", "More quaint, more pleafing, nor more commendable :", "Belike you meane to make a puppet of me.", "Pet. Why true, he means to make a puppet of thee.", "Tai. She layes your Worſhip means to make a puppet of her.", "Pet. Oh moſt monſtrous arrogance :", "Thou lyeſt, thou thred, thou thimble,", "Thou yard, three quarters, halſe yard, quarter, naile,", "Thou Flea, thou Nit, thou winter cricket thou :", "Brav'd in mine owne houſe with a skeine of thred:", "Away thou Ragge, thou quantity, thou remnant,", "Or I ſhall to be mete thee with thy yard,", "As thou haſt thinke on prating whil'th thou liv'ſt :", "I tell thee I, that thou haſt marr'd her gowne.", "Tail. Your worſhip is deceiv'd, the gowne is made Inflaſt as my Maſter had direction :", "Grumio gave order how it ſhould be done.", "Gru. I gave him no order, I gave him the fluffe.", "Tail. But how did you defire it ſhould be made ?", "Gru. Marry fir with needle and thred.", "Tail. But did you not requeſt to have it cut ?", "Gru. Thou haſt fac'd many things.", "Tail. I have.", "Gru. Face not me : thou haſt brav'd many men, brave not me; I will neither be fac'd nor brav'd. I fay unto the, I bid thy Maſter cut out the gowne, but I did not bid him cut it to peeces. Ergo thou liſt.", "Tai. Why here is the note of the ſashion to teſtifie.", "Pet. Reade it.", "Gru. The note lyes in's throate if he ſay I faſſo.", "Tail. In primis, a looke bodied gowne.", "Gru. Maſter, if ever I ſaid looke bodied gowne, fow me in the skirts of it, and beate me to death with a botome of browne thred : I ſaid a gowne.", "Pet. Proceed.", "Tai. With a ſmall compaſſt cape.", "Gru. I confefſe the cape.", "Tai. With a trunke ſleeve", "Gru. I confefſe two ſleeves.", "Tail. The ſleeves curiously cut.", "Pet. I there's the villany.", "Gru. Error i'th bill fir, error i'th bill ? I commanded the ſleeves should be cut out, and fow'd up againe, and that Ile prove upon thee, though thy little finger be arm ed in a thimble.", "Tai. This is true that I ſay, and I had thee in place where thou ſhould know it.", "Gru. I am for thee ſtraight : take thou the bill, give me thy mete-yard, and ſpare not me.", "Hor. God-a-mercy Grumio, then he ſhall have no oddes.", "Pet. Well fir in breeſe the gowne is not for me.", "Gru. You are i'th right fir, 'tis for my miſtris.", "Pet. Goe take it up unto thy maſters uſe.", "Gru. Villaine, not for thy life : Take up my Miſtrſe gowne for thy maſters uſe.", "Pet. Why fir, what's your conceit in that ?", "Gru. Oh fir, the conceit is deeper then you thinke for Take up my Miſtris gowne to his maſters uſe.", "Oh ſie, ſie, ſie.", "Pet. Hortemſio, ſay thou wilt ſee the Tailor paide :", "Goe take it hence, be gon, and ſay no more.", "Hor. Tailor, Ile pay thee for thy gowne to morrow, Take no unkindneſſe of his haſty words :", "Away I ſay, commend me to thy Maſter.", "Exis Tail.", "Pet. Well, come my Kate, we will unto your fathers, Even in theſe honeſt meabiliments :", "Our purſes ſhall be proud, our garments poore :", "For 'tis the minde that makes the body rich.", "And as the Sunne breaks through the darkeſt clouds,", "So honor peereth in the meaneſt habit.", "What is the lay more precious then the Larke,", "Because his feathers are more beautifull?", "Or is the Adder better then the Eele,", "Because hispainted skin contents the eye?", "Oh no good Kate : neither art thou the worſe", "For this poore furniture, and meane array.", "If thou accounted it ſhame, lay it on me,", "And therefore frolicke, we will hence forthwith:", "To feaſt and ſport us at thy fathers houſe,", "Goe call my men, and let us ſtraight to him,", "And bring our horſes unto Long-lane end,", "There will we mount, and thither walke on foote.", "Let's ſee, I thinke 'tis now fome ſeven a clocke,", "And well we may come there by dinner time.", "Kate. I dare aſſure you fir, 'tis almoſt two.", "And 'twill be ſupper time ere

The Taming of the Shrew.

You are still croffing it, fir let't alone,
I will not goe to day, and ere I doe,
It fhall be what a clocke I fay it is.

Her. Why so : this gallant will command the funne.

Enter Tranio, and the Pedant drest like Vincentio.

Tra. Sirs, this is the houſe, p'leafe it you that I call.
Ped. I what eſſe, and but I be deceived,

Signior Baptista may remember me
Neere twenty yeeres a goe in Genoa.

Tra. Where we were lodgers, at the Pegasus,
Tis well, and hold your owne in any cafe
With fuch auſterity as longeth to a father.

Enter Biondello.

Ped. I warrant you : but fir here comes your boy,
'Twere good he were schoold.

Tra. Feare you not him : firra Biondello,

Now doe your duty throughly I advife you :
Imagine 'twere the right Vincentio.

Bion. Tut, feare not me.

Tra. But haſt thou done thy errand to Baptista?

Bion. I told him that your father was at Venice,
And that you look't for him thisday in Padua.

Tra. Th'art a tall fellow, hold thee that to drinke,
Heere comes Baptista : let your countenance fir.

Enter Baptista and Lucentio : and Pedant booted
and bare headed.

Tra. Signior Baptista you are happily met :

Sir, this is the gentleman I told you of,
I prate you ſtand good father to me now,
Give me Bianca for my patrimony.

Ped. Soft fon : fir by your leave, having come to Padua
To gather in fome debts, my fon Lucentio

Made me acquainted with a waighty caufe
Of love betweene your daughter and himſelfe :

And for the good report I heare of you,
And for the love he beareth to your daughter,
And that him to ſtay him not too long,
I am content in a good fathers care

To have him mateſt, and if you pleat to like
Noworle then 1 fir upon fome agreement
Me ſhall you find moſt ready and moſt willing
With one conſent to have her ſo beſtowed :

For curious I cannot be with you

Signior Baptista, of whom I heare ſo well.

Bap. Sir, pardon me in what I have to ſay,

Your plainneſſe and your ſhortneſſe plesa me well :

Right true it is your ſonne Lucentio here

Doth love my daughter, and ſhe loveth him,

Of both anſtamble deeply their affections :

And therefore if you ſay no more then this,
That like a Father you will deale with him,

And paffe my daughter a ſuſcient dower,

The match is made, and all is done,

Your ſonne ſhall have my daughter with conſent.

Tra. I thanke you fir, where then doe you know beſt
We be alſied and ſuch affurance tane,

As ſhall with either parts agreement ſland.

Bap. Not in any houſe Lucentio, for you know
Pitchers have eares, and I have many ſervants,

Befides old Gremio is harkning ſtill,
Ann haply we might be interrupted.

Tra. Then at my lodging, and it like you fir
There doth my father ly: and there this night

Weele paffe the bufineſſe privately and well :

Send for your daughter by your ſervant here,

My Boy ſhall fetch the Scrivener prefently,

The worſt is this that at ſo flender warning,

You are like to have a thin and flender pittance.

Bap. It likes me well :

Cambio hye you home, and bid Bianca make her ready
ſtraight :

And if you will tell what hath hapned,

Lucentios Father is arrived in Padua,

And how ſhe's like to be Lucentios wife.

Bion. I pray the gods ſhe may with all my heart :

Tra. Dally not with the gods, but get thee gone.

Enter Peter.

Signior Baptista, ſhall I leade the way,

We come, one meſſe is like to be your cheere,

Come fir, we will better it in Pisa.

Bap. I follow you.

Exit.

Execunt.

Enter Lucentio and Biondello.

Bion. Cambio.

Luc. What faſt thou Biondello?

Biond. You faw my Maſter winke and laugh upon
you?

Luc. Biondello, what of that?

Biond. Faith nothing : but has left me here behind
to expound the meaning or morall of his ſignes and to-
kens.

Luc. I pray thee moralize them.

Bion. Then thus : Baptista is ſafe talking with the de-
ceiving Father of a deceitfull ſonne.

Luc. And what of him?

Bion. His daughter is to be brought by you to the ſup-
per.

Luc. And then?

Bion. The old Prieft at Saint Lukes Church is at your command at all hours.

Luc. And what of all this?

Bion. I cannot tell, except they are buſed about a coun-
terfeit affurance : take you affurance of her, Cum privile-
gio ad Imprimendum felium, to th' Church take the Prieft,
Clarke, and ſome ſuſcient honest wittneſſes :

It this be not that you looke for, I have no more to ſay,
But bid Bianca farewell for ever and a day.

Luc. Hear it thou Biondello.

Bion. I cannot tarry : I knew a wench married in an
afternoone as ſhe went to the Garden for Parſeley to
fluffe a Rabit, and ſo may you fir : and ſo adew fir, my
Maſter hath appointed me to goe to Saint Lukes to bid
the Prieft be ready to come againſt you come with your
appendix.

Luc. I may and will, if ſhe be ſo contented :

She will be pleas'd, then wherefore ſhould I doubt :

Hap what hap may, Ile roundly goe about her :

It ſhall goe hard if Cambio goe without her.

Exit.

Exit.

Enter Petruchio, Kate, Hortensio.

Pet. Come on a God's name, once more toward our fa-
thers :

Good Lord how bright and goodly ſhines the Moone:

Kate. The Moone, the Sunne : it is not Moonelight
now.

Pet. I ſay it is the Moone that ſhines ſo bright.

Kate. I know it is the Sunne that ſhines ſo bright.

Pet. Now by my mothers ſonne, and that's my ſelfe,

It

The Taming of the Shrew.

226

It shall be moone, or starre, or what I lift,

Or ere I journey to your Fathers houfe :

Goe on, and fetch our horles backe againe,

Evermore croft and croft, nothing but croft.

Hor. Say as he fayes, or we shall never goe,

Kat. Forward I pray, ſince we have come to farre,

And be it moone, or funne, or what your pleafe :

And if you pleafe to call it a rufh Candle,

Henceforth I vowe it ſhall be ſo for me.

Pet. I fay it is the Moone.

Kat. I know it is the Moone.

Pet. Nay then you lye : it is the bleſſed Sunne.

Kate. Thea God be bleſſed, it is the bleſſed funne,

But funne it is not, when you fay it is not.

Aud the Moone changes even as your mind :

What you will have it nam'd, even that it is,

And ſo it ſhall be ſo for Katherine.

Hort. Petruchio, goe thy wayes, the field is won.

Pet. Well, forward, forward, thus the bowle should

And not unluckily againſt the Bias :

But ſoft, Company is comming here.

### Enter Vincentio.

Good morrow gentle Miftris, where away :

Tell me sweet Kate, and tell me truely too, :

Haſt thou beheld a freſher Gentlewoman :

Such warre of white and red within her cheekes :

What ſtarres doe ſpangle heaven with ſuch beauty,

As thofe two eyes become that heavenly face ?

Faire lovely Maide, once more good day to thee :

Sweet Kate embrace her for her beauties ſake.

Hort. A will make the man mad to make a woman of him.

Kat. Yong budding Virgin, faire, and fresh, and fweet,
W hither away, or where is thy abode?

Happyl the Parents of ſo faire a child ;

Happier the man whom favourable ſtars

Alots thee for his lovely bedſellow.

Pet. Why how now Kate, I hope thou art not mad,
This is a man old, wrinkled, ſaded, withered,
And not a Maiden, as thou faſt he is.

Kate. Pardon old father my miftaking eyes,
That have beene ſo bedazled with the funne,

That every thing I looke on ſeemeth greene :

Now I perceive thou art a reverent Father :

Pardon I pray thee for my mad miftaking.

Pet. Doe good old grandſire, and withall make known
Which way thou travelſeſt, if along with us,
We ſhall be joyfull of thy company.

Vin. Faire Sir, and you my merry Miftris,

That with your ſtrange encounter much amafade me :

My name is call'd Vincentio, my dwelling Pisa,

And bound I am to Padua, there to viſite

A ſonne of mine, which long I have not ſeene.

Pet. What is his name?

Vin. Lucentio gentle fir.

Pet. Happily met, the happier for thy ſonne :

And now by Law, as well as reverent age,

I may intitle thee my loving father;

The ſifter to my wife, this Gentlewoman,

Thy Sonne by this bath married : wonder not,

Nor be not grieved, ſhe is of good eſteeme,

Her dowry wealthy, and of worthy birth ;

Befide, ſo qualified, as may beſeeme

The Spoſe of any noble Gentleman :

Let me imbrace with old Vincentio,

And wander we to fee thy honest ſonne,
Who will of thy arrival be full joyous.

Vin. But is this true, or is it elfe your pleafe,
Like pleafant travailors to breake a jeſt

V poni the company you overtake ?

Her. I doe aſure thee father ſo it is.

Pet. Come goe along and fee the truth hecof.

For our firſt merriment hath made thee jealous. Exemt.

Hor. Well Petruchio, this has put me in heart :

Have to my Widdow, and if ſhe be ſroward,

Then haſt thou taught Hortenſie to be untoward.

Exi.

### Enter Biondello, Lucentio and Bianca, Gremio
out before.

Bion. Softly and twiſtly fir, for the Prieſt is ready.

Luc. I flye Biondello, but they may chance to need thee at home, therefore leave us.

Bion. Nay faith, Ile fee the Church a your backe, and then come backe to my miſtris as ſoone as I can.

Gre. I marvail Cambio comes not all this while.

### Enter Petruchio, Kate, Vincentio, Grumio
with Attendants.

Pet. Sir heeres the doore, this is Lucentios houſe,
My Fathers beares more toward the Market-place,
Thither muſt I, and here I leave you fir.

Vin. You ſhall not choofe but drinke before you goe,
I thinke I hall command your welcome here ?

And by all likelyhood ſome cheere is toward. Knock.

Grem. They're bufſe within, you were beſt knoke
lower.

### Pedant looks out of the window.

Ped. What's he that knockes as he would beat downe
the gate?

Vin. Is Signior Lucentio within fir ?

Ped. He's within fir, but not to be ſpoken withall.

Vin. What if a man bring him a hundred pound or two to make merry withall.

Ped. Keepe your hundred pounds to your ſelfe, he
ſhall need none ſo long as I live.

Petr. Nay, I told you your ſonne was well beloved in Padua : doe you heare fir, to leave frivolous circumſtances, I pray you tell Signior Lucentio that his Father is come from Pisa, and is here at the doore to ſpeake with him.

Ped. Thou lieſt, his Father is come from Padua, and here looking out at the window.

Vin. Art thou his father ?

Ped. I fir, ſo his mother fayes, if I may beleeve her.

Pet. Why how now gentleman : why this is flat kna-
very to take upon you another mans name.

Peda. Lay hands on the villaine, I beleeve a meanes to cofen ſome body in this City under my countenance.

### Enter Biondello.

Bion. I have ſeene them in the Church together, God fend'em good ſhipping but who is heere ? mine old Maſter Vincentio: now we are undone and brought to no-thing.

Vin. Come hither crackhempe.

Bion. I hope I may choofe Sir.

Vin. Come hither you rogue, what have you forget
me?

Bion. Forget you, no fir : I could not forget you, for I never law you before in all my life.

Vin. What, you notorious villaine, didſt thou neſe
fee thy Maſters father, Vincentio?

Bion.

The Taming of the Shrew.

227

Bion. What my old worthipfull old mafter ? yes mar-ry fir, see where he lokes out of the window.

Vin. If so indeed? He beates Biondello.

Bion. Helpe, helpe, helpe, here's a mad man will mur-der me.

Peds. Helpe, fonne, helpe fignior Baptista.

Pet. Prethee Kate let's stand afide and see the end of this controverfie.

Enter Pedant with ſerchants, Baptista, Tranio.

Tra. Sir, what are you that offer to beate my ſer-vant?

Vin. What am I fir : nay what are you fir : oh immor-tall Goddes: oh fine villaine, a filken doublet, a vel-vet hofe, a scarlet cloake, and a copataine hat : oh I am undone, I am undone: while I play the good husband at home, my fonne and my ſervant ſpend all at the vi-ni-ſerſity.

Tra. How now, what's the matter ?

Bap. What is the man lunaticke ?

Tra. Sir, you teeme a sober ancient Gentleman by your habit: but your words ſhew you a mad man : why fir, what concernes it you, if I weare Pearle and gold : I thanke my good father, I am able to maintaine it.

Vin. Thy father ! oh villaine, he is a Saile-maker in Bergamo.

Bap. You miftake fir, you miftake fir, pray what doe you thinke is his name ?

Vin. His name, as if. I knew not his name: I have brought him up ever ſince he was three yeeres old, and his name is Tranio.

Ped. Away, away mad affe, his name is Lucentio, and he is mine only fonne and heire to the Lands of me ſig-nior Vincentio.

Vin. Lucentio ! oh he hath murdred his Maſter; lay hold on him I charge you in the Dukes name : oh my fonne, my fonne : tell me thou villaine, where is my ſon Lucentio?

Tra. Call forth an officer : Carry this mad knave to the laile : father Baptista, I charge you fee that he bee forth comming.

Vin. Carry me to the laile ?

Gre. Stay officer, he ſhall not goe to prifon.

Bap. Talke not ſignior Gremio : I lay he ſhall goe to prifon.

Gre. Take heede ſignior Baptista, leaſt you be coni-catcht in this buſineſſe : I dare ſweare this is the right Vincentio.

Ped. ſweare if thou dar'ſt.

Gre. Nay, I dare not ſweare it.

Tra. Then thou wert beſt ſay that I am not Lucentio.

Gre. Yes, I know thee to be ſignior Lucentio.

Bap. Away with the dotard, to the laile with him. Enter Biondello, Lucentio, and Bianca.

Vin. Thus strangers may be haild and abuſd : oh mon-frous villaine.

Bion. Oh we are ſpoil'd, and yonder he is, deny him, forſweare him, or eſe we are all done.

Exit Biondello, Tranio, and Pedant as ſaſt as may be.

Luc. Pardon ſweet father.

Vin. Lives my ſweet fonne ?

Bia. Pardon deere father.

Bap. How haſt thou offended, where is Lucentio.

Luc. Here's Lucentio, right fonne to the right Vin-centio.

That have by marriage made thy daughter mine.

While counterfeit ſuppofes bleer'd thine eine.

Gre. Here's packing with a witneſſe to deceive us all.

Vin. Where is that damned villaine Tranio,

That faſ'd and braved me in this matter to ?

Bap. Why, tell me is not this my Cambio ?

Bian. Cambio is chang'd into Lucentio.

Luc. Love wrought the ſe miracles. Bianca's love Made me exchang my ſtate with Tranio,

While he did beare my countenance in the towne, And happily I have arriv'd at laſt

Vnto the wifhed haven of my bliffe :

What Tranio did, my ſelfe enforſt him to ;

Then pardon him ſweet Father for my fake.

Vin. Ile flit the villaines noſe that would have ſent me to the laile.

Bap. But do you heare fir, have you married my daugh-ter without asking my good will ?

Vin. Feare not Baptista, we will content you, goe to : but I will in to be reveng'd for this villaine. Exit.

Bap. And I to found the depth of this knaury. Exit.

Luc. Looke not pale Bianca, thy father will not frowne

Exeunt

Gre. My cake is dough, but Ile in among the reſt, Out of hope of all, but my ſhare of the feaſt.

Kat. Husband let's follow, to fee the end of this adoe.

Pet. Firſt kiffe me Katz, and we will.

Kat. What in the midſt of the ſtreete ?

Pet. What art thou aſham'd of me ?

Katz. No fir, God forbid, but aſham'd to kiffe.

Pet. Why then let's home againe: Come Sirra let's away.

Kat. Nay, I will give thee a kiffe, now pray thee Love ſtay.

Pet. Is not this well? come my ſweet Kate.

Better once then never, for never too late.

Exeunt.

## Actus Quintus.

Enter Baptista, Vincentio, Gremio, the Pedant, Lucentio, and Bianca, Tranio, Biondello, Grumio, and Widdow :

The Serving men with Tranio bringing in a Banquet.

Luo. At laſt, though long, our jarring notes agree, And time it is when raging warre is come,

To ſmile at ſcapes and perils overblowne:

My faire Bianca bid my father welcome,

While I with ſelfe fame kindneſſe welcome thine :

Brother Petruchio, ſilter Katerina,

And thou Hortentio with thy loving Widdow :

Feaſt with the beſt, and welcome to my houſe,

My Banket is to cloſe our fromackes up

After our great good cheere : pray you fit downe, For now we fit to chat as well as eate.

Pet. Nothing but fit and fit, and eate and eate.

Bap. Padua affords this kindneſſe, ſonne Petruchio.

Pet. Padua affords nothing but what is kind.

Hor. For both our fakes I would that word were true.

Pet. Now for my life Hortentio ſeaſes his Widow.

Hor. Then never truſt me if I be aſſeared.

Pet. You are very ſencible, and yet you miffle my ſence :

I meane Hortentio is aſſeared of you.

Wid.

228

The Taming of the Shrew.

Wid. He that is giddy thinkes the world turnes round,
Pet. Roundly replied.
Kat. Miftris, how meane you that ?
Wid. Thus I conceive by him.
Pet. Conceives by me, how likes Hortentio that?
Hor. My Widdow fayes, thus she conceives her tale.
Petr. Very well mended: kiffe him for that good
Widdow.
Kat. He that is giddy thinkes the world turnes round.
I pray you tell me what you meant by that.
Wid. Your husband being troubled with a fhrew,
Meafures my husbands forrow by his woe:
And now you know my meaning.
Kate. A very meane meaning.
Wid. Right, I meane you.
Kat. And I am meane indeed, refpeeting you.
Pet. To her Kate.
Hor. To her Widdow.
Pet. A hundred markes, my Kate doe put her downe.
Hor. That's my office.
Pet. Spoke like an Officer: ha to thee lad.
Drinkes to Hortentio.
Bap. How likes Gramio thefe quicke witted folkes?
Gre. Beleve me fir, they But together well:
Bian. Head, and but an hafty witty body,
Would fay your Head and But were head and horne.
Via. I Miftris Bride, hath that awakened you ?
Bian. I, but not frighted me; therefore Ile fleee a-
gaine.
Petr. Nay that you fhall not fince you have begun:
Have at you for a better jeft or too.
Bian. Am I your Bird, I meane to shift my buſh,
And then purfue me as you draw your Bow.
You are welcome all.
Exit Bianca.
Pet. She hath prevented me, here fignior Tranio,
This bird you aim'd at, though you hit her not,
Therefore a health to all that that flot and mift.
Tri. Oh fir, Lucentio flipt me like his Gray-bound,
Which runnes him ſelfe, and catches for his Mafter,
Pet. A good fwift ſimile, but fomething curſh.
Tra. 'Tis well fir that you hunted for your ſelfe :
'Tis thought your Deere does hold you at a bay.
Bap. Oh, oh Petruchio, Tranio hits you now.
Luc. I thanke thee for that gird good Tranio.
Hor. Conſeſſe, conſeſſe, hath he not hit you here?
Pet. A has a little gald me I conſeſſe :
And as the left did glance away from me,
'Tis ten to one it maim'd you too out right.
Bap. Now in good ſadneſſe ſonne Petruchio,
I thinke thou haſt the vertie ſhrew of all.
Pet. Well, I lay no: and therefore for affurance,
Let's each one ſend unto his wife,
And he whoſe wife is moſt obedient,
To come at firſt when he doth ſend for her,
Shall win the wager which we will propoſe.
Hor. Content, what's the wager ?
Luc. Twenty crownes.
Pet. Twenty crownes.
Ile venture ſo much of my Hawke or Hound,
But twenty times ſo much upon my Wife.
Luc. A hundred then.
Hor. Content.
Pet. A match, 'tis done.
Hor. Who fhall begin ?
Luc. That will I.
Goe Biondello, bid your Miftris come to me:

Bio. Igoe.
Bap. Sonne, Ile be your halfe, Bianca comes.
Luc. Ile have no halves : Ile bear it all my ſelfe,
Exit Biondello.
How now, what newes ?
Bio. Sir, my Miftris ſends you word
That ſhe is buſſe, and ſhe cannot come.
Pet. How ? he's buſſe, and ſhe cannot come: is that
an anſwer ?
Gre. I, and a kinde one too:
Pray God fir your wife ſend you not a worſe.
Pet. I hope better.
Hor. Sirra Biondello, goe and intreat my wife to come
to me forthwith.
Exit Biondello.
Petr. Oh ho, intreate her, nay then ſhe muſt needes
come.
Hor. I am affaírd fir, do what you can,
Enter Biondello.
Yours will not be entreated: Now, where's my wife ?
Bion. She fayes you have ſome goodly left in hand,
She will not come: ſhe bids you come to her.
Pet. Worſe and worſe, ſhe will not come:
Oh vild, intollerable, not to be induſ'd :
Sirra Grumio, goe to your Miftris,
Say I command her come to me.
Hor. I know her anſwer.
Pet. What?
Hor. She will not.
Pet. The fouler fortune mine, and there an end.
Enter Katerina.
Bap. Now by my hollidam heere comes Katerina,
Kat. What is your will fir, that you ſend for me?
Pet. Where is your firſer, and Hortenſios wife ?
Kate. They fit conferring by the Parlor fire.
Pet. Goe fetch them hither, if they denie to come,
Swindge me them foundly forth unto their husbands:
Away I lay, and bring then hither ſtraight.
Luc. Here is a wonder, if you talke of a wonder.
Hor. And fo itis: I wonder what it boads.
Pet. Marry peace it boads, and love, and quiet life,
An awfull rule, and right ſupremacy :
And to be ſhort, what not, that's ſw eet and happy.
Bap. Now faire befall thee good Petruchio :
The wager thou haſt won, and I will adde
Vnto their loſſes twenty thouſand crownes,
Another dowry to another daughter,
For ſhe is chang'd as ſhe had never beene.
Pet. Nay, I will win my wager better yet,
And ſhow more ſigne of her obedience,
Her new built vertue and obedience.
Enter Kate, Bianca, and Widdow.
See where ſhe comes, and brings your froward Wives
As prifoners to her womanly perſwafion :
Katerine, that Cap of yours becomes you not,
Off with that bable, throw it underfoote.
Wid. Lord let me never have a cauſe to ſigh,
Till I be brought to ſuch a filly paffe.
Bian. Eye what a fooliſh duty call you this ?
Luc. I would your duty were as fooliſh too :
The wifdome of your duty faire Bianca,
Hath coſt me five hundred crownes ſince ſupper time.
Bian. The more fool you for laying on my duty.
Pet. Katherine I charge thee tell theſe head-ſtrong wo-
men, what duty they doe owe their Lords and huf-
bands.
Wid. Conte,

The Taming of the Shrew.

Wid. Come, come, your mocking: we will have no telling

Pet. Come on I say, and first begin with her.

Wid. She shall not.

Pet. I say the shall, and first begin with her.

Kate. Fie, fie, unknit that threatening unkinde brow,
And dart not fcornefull glances from thofe eyes,
To wound thy Lord, thy King, thy governour.
It blots thy beauty, as froils bite the meads,
Confounds thy fame, as whirlewinds shake faire buds,
And in no fence is meet or amiable.

A woman mov'd, is like a fountaine troubled,
Muddie, ill feeming, thickc; bereft of beauty,
And while it is fo, none is dry or thirttie
Will daigne to fip, or touch one drop of it.

Thy husband is thy Lord, thy life, thy keeper,
Thy head, thy foveraigne: One that cares for thee,
And for thy maintenance: Committed his body

To painfull labour, both by fea and land :
To watch the night in ftrmes, the day in cold
Whil'f'thou ly'it warme at home, secure and safe,
And craves no other tribute at thy hands,
But love, faire lookes, and true obedience;
Too little payment for fo great a debt,

Such duty as the fubject owes the Prince,
Even fuch a woman oweth to her husband :
And when he is froward, peevifh, fallen, fowre,
And not obedient to his honeſt will,
What is he but a foule contending Rebell,
And graceleſſe Traitor to her loving Lord?
I am afham'd that women are ſo ſimple,

To reffer warre, when they ſhould kneele for peace :
Or feeke for rule, ſupremacie, and fway,
When they are bound to ſerve, love, and obay.

Why are our bodies soft, and weake, and smooth,
Vnapt to toyle and trouble in the world,
But that our soft conditions; and our hearts,
Should well agree with our externall parts?

Come, come, you froward and unable wormes,
My minde hath bin as bigge as one of yours,
My heart is great, my realon haply more,
To bandie word for word, and frowne for frowne;
But now I fee our Launceſe are but ftrawes:

Our ſtrength as weake, our weakenefle paſt compare,
That ſeeming to be moſt, which we indeed leaſt are.
Then vale your ſtomackes, for it is no boote,
And place your hands below your husbands ſtoot:

In token of which duty, if he pleafe,
My hand is readie, may it do him cafe.

Pet. Why there's a weach: Come on, and kiffe me
Kate.

Luc. Well go thy wayes old lad, for thou ſhalt ha't.

Vin. 'Tis a good hearing, when children are toward.

Lnc. But a harſh hearing, when women are froward.

Pet. Come Kate, wee'le to bed,

We three are married, but you two are ſped.

'Twas I wonne the wager, though you hit the white,
And being a winner, God give you good night.

Exit Petruchio.

Horten. Now goe thy wayes, thou haſt tam'd a curſt
Shrow.

Lnc. 'Tis a wonder, by your leave, ſhe will be tam'd ſo.

FJNJS:

V

All's

230

ALL'S
VWell, that Ends VWell:

*Actus primus. Scena Prima.*

*Enter young Bertram Count of Roffition, his Mother, and Helena, Lord Lafew, all in blacke.*

*Mother.*

N delivering my fonde from me, I burie a fe-
cond husband.

*Ref.* And in going Madam, weepe ore my
fathers death anew; but I muft attend his ma-
jefties command, to whom I am now in
Ward, evermore in subjection.

*Laf.* You shall find of the King a husband Madame, you fir a father. He that fo generally is at all times good, muft of necessitie hold his vertue to you, whose worthineffe would flitre it up where it wanted, rather then lacke it where there is such abundance.

*Mo.* What hope is there of his Majefties amendment?

*Laf.* He hath abandon'd his Philifations Madam, under
whofe practifes he hath perfecuted time with hope, and
finds no other advantage in the proceſſe, but onely the
loſing of hope by time.

*Mo.* This young Gentlewoman had a Father, O that had ! how faſ a paſſage tis, whose ſkill was almost as great as his honeſtie, had it ſtretch'd ſo far, would have made nature immortal, and death ſhould have play for lacke of worke. Would for the Kings ſake hee were living, I thinke it would be the death of the Kings diſeafe.

*Laf.* How call'd you the man you ſpeake of Madam ?

*Jno.* He was famous fir in his poffeffion, and it was his great right to be ſo: *Gerard de Narbon*.

*Laf.* He was excellent indeed Madam, the King very lately ſpoke of him admiringly, and mourningly: he was skilfull enough to have liv'd ſtill, if knowledge could be fet up againſt mortallitie.

*Ref.* What is it (my good Lord) the King languifhes of ?

*Laf.* A Fiftula my Lord.

*Ref.* I heard not of it before.

*Laf.* I would it were not notorious. Was this Gen-
tlewoman the Daughter of Gerard de Narbon?

*Mo.* His ſole childe my Lord, and bequeathed to my
over looking. I have thofe hopes of her good, that her
education promifes her diſpoſitions ſhe inherits, which
makes faire gifts fairer: for where an uncleane mind car-
ries vertuous qualities, there commendations goe with
pitty, they are vertues and traitors too: in her they are
the better for their ſimpleneſſe, ſhe derives her honeſtie,
and atcheeves her goodneſſe.

*Lafew.* Your commendations Madam get from her
teares.

*Mo.* 'Tis the beſt brine a Maiden can ſeafon her pruſe in. The remembrance of her father never approches her heart, but the tirany of her forrowes takes all livelihood from her cheeke. No more of this *Helena*, goe too, no more leaſt it be rather thought you affect a forrow, then to have.

*Hel.* I doe affect a forrow indeed, but I have it too.

*Laf.* Moderate lamentations is the right of the dead, excessive greeſe the enemie to the living.

*Mo.* If the living be enemy to the greeſe, the excelle
makes it ſoone mortall.

*Ref.* Madam I defire your holy wifhes.

*Laf.* How underſtand we that?

*Mo.* Be thou bleſſe Bertrame, and fucceed thy father
In manners as in ſhape: thy blood and vertue
Contend for Empire in thee, and thy goodneſſe
Share with thy birth-right. Love all, truſt a ſew,
Doe wrong to none: beable for thine enemie
Rather in power then uſe: and koope thy friend
Under thy owne lifeſs key. Be checkt for ſilence,
But never tax'd for ſpeech. What heaven more will,
That thee may furniſh, and my prayers plucke downe,
Fall on thy hand. Farewell my Lord,
'Tis an unſeaf'd Courtier, good my Lord
Aduife him.

*Laf.* He cannot want the beſt
That ſhall attend his love.

*Mo.* Heaven bleſſe him: *Farewell Bertram, Exit.*

*Ref.* The beſt wifhes that can be ſorg'd in your thoughts
be ſervants to you: be comfortable to my mother, your
Miftris, and make much of her.

*Laf.* Farewell prettie Lady, you muſt hold the credit
of your father.

*Hell.* O were that all, I thinke not on my father,
And theſe great teares grace his remembrance more
Then that he ſcnd for him. What was he like?
I have forgot him. My imagination
Carries no favour in't but *Bertrams*.
I am undone, there is no liuing, none,
If *Bertram* be away. 'T were all one,
That I ſhould love a bright particular ſtarre,
And thinke to wed it, he is ſo above me
In his bright radience and collaterall light,

Muſt

All's Well, that Ends Well.

Muſt I be comforted, not in his ſphere;
Th'ambition in my love thus plagues it ſelfe:
The hinde that would be mated by the Lion
Muſt die for love. 'T was pretty, though a plague
To fee him every houre to fit and draw
His arched browes, his hawking eye, his curles
In our heartſtable: heart too capable
Of every line and tricke of his ſweet ſaunour.
But now he's gone, and my idolatrous ſancie
Muſt fanſtifie his Reliques. Who comes here ?

Enter Parrolles.

One that goes with him : I love him for his ſake,
And yet I know him a notorious Liar,
Thinke him a great way foole, ſolie a coward,
Yet theſe fixt evils fit to ſo fit in him,
That they take place, when Vertues ſteely bones
Lookes bleake thet cold wind: withall, full oft we fee
Cold wifedome waiting on ſuperfluous ſollie.

Par. Save you faire Quebec.

Hel. And you Monarch.

Par. No.

Hel. And no.

Par. Are you meditating on virginitie?

Hel. I: you have ſome ſtaine of ſouldier in you: Let me ask you a queſtion. Man is enemie to virginitie, how may we barrocado it againſt him ?

Par. Keepe him out.

Hel. But heaſſales, and our virginitie though valiant,
in the defence yet is weake: unfold us ſome warlike re-
ſilience.

Par. There is none: Man fetting downe before you,
will undermine you, and blow you up.

Hel. Bleſſe our poore Virginity from Vnderminers,
and blowers up. Is there no Military policy how Vir-
gins might blow up men?

Par. Virginity being blowne downe, Man will quick-
lier be blowne up: marry in blowing him downe againe,
with the breach your ſelves made, you loſe your City. It
is not politicke, in the common-wealth of Nature, to
prefere virginitie. Loffe of Virginity, is rationall en-
creafe, and there was never virgin got, till virginitie was
ſiſt loſt. That you were made of, is mettrall to make Vir-
gins. Virginitie; by being once loſt, may bee ten tines
found: by being ever kept it is ever loſt: 'tis too colda
companion: Away with't.

Hel. I will ſtand for't a little; though therefore I die a
Virgin.

Par. There's little can be faid in't, 'tis againſt the rule of
Nature. To ſpeak on the part of virginitie, is to ac-
cufe your Mothers; which is moſt infallible diſobedi-
ence. He that hangs himſelfe is a Virgin: Virginitie
murthers it ſelfe, and ſhould be buried in highwayes out
of all fanſtified limit, as a desperate Offendreſſe againſt
Nature. Virginitie breeds mites, much like a Cheeſe,
confumes it ſelfe to the very payring, and ſo dyes with
feeding his owne ſlomacke. Besides, Virginitie is
peenuſh, proud, ydle, made of ſelfe-love, which is the
moſt inhabited ſinne in the Cannon. Keepe it not, you
cannot chooſe but loofe by't. Out with't: within ten
years it will make it ſelfe two, which is a goodly increafe,
and the principall it ſelfe not much the worſe. A way
with't.

Hel. How might one doe ſir, to loofe it to her owne
liking?

Par. Let me fee. Marry ill, to like him that ne're it
likes. 'Tis a commoditie will loſe the gloſſe with lying:
The longer kept, the leſſe worth: Off with't while 'tis
vendible. Anſwer the time of requeſt, Virginitie like
anolde Courier, weares her cap out of fashion, richly
futed, but unfuteable, juſt like the brooch and the tooth-
pick, which were not now: your Date is better in your
Pye and your Porredge, then in your cheeke: and your
virginitie, your old virginitie, is like one of our French
wither'd peares, it looks ill, it eates drily, marry 'tis a
wither'd peare: it was formerly better, marry yet 'tis a
wither'd peare, Will you any thing with it?

Hel. Not my virginitie yet :

There ſhall your maſter have a thouſand loves,
A Mother, and a Miftrifle, and a friend,
A Phenix, Captaine, and an enemy,
A guide, a Goddeſſe, and a ſoveraigne,
A Counſellor, a Traiſtreſſe, and a Deare :
His humblèſt ambition, proud humilitie :
His Jarring, concord: and his diſcord, dulcet :
His faith, his ſweet diſafter: with a world
Of pretty ſond adoptious chriſtendomes
That blinking Cupid goffips. Now ſhall he :
I know not what he ſhall, God ſend him well,
The Courts a learning place, and he is one.

Par. What one yfaith ?

Hel. That I wſwith well, 'tis pitty.

Par. What's pitty?

Hel. That wſthing well had not a body in't,
Which might be felt, that we poorer borne,
Whoſe bater ſtarres do flut us up in wſhes,
Might with effects of them follow our friends,
And ſhow what we alone muſt thinke, which never
Returnes us thankes.

Enter Page.

Page. Monſieur Parrolles,

My Lord cals for you.

Par. Little Hellen farewell, if I can remember thee, I
will thinke of thee at Court.

Hel. Monſier Parolles, you were borne under a charita-
ble ſtarre.

Par. Vnder Mars I.

Hel. I ſepecially thinke, under Mars.

Par. Why under Mars?

Hel. The warres hath ſo kept you under, that you muſt
needes be borne under Mars.

Par. When he was predominant.

Hel. When he was retrograde I thinke rather.

Par. Why thinke you ſo?

Hel. You go ſo much backward when you fight.

Par. That's for advantage.

Hel. So is running away,

When ſeare propofes the ſafety:

But the compofition that your valour and ſeare makes in
you, is a vertue of a good wing, and I like the weare
well.

Paroll. I am ſo full of buſinſſes, I cannot anſwere
thee acutely: I will returne perfect Courier, in the
which my inſtruction ſhall ſerve to naturalize thee, ſo
thou wilt be capable of the Courtiers counſell, and un-
derſtand what advice ſhall thrust upon thee, eſſe thou
dyſeſt in thine unthankeſulnes, and thine ignorancemakes
thee away, ſarewell: When thou hait leyſure, ſay thy
praiers: when thou haſt none, remember thy Friends:

V 2

Get

All's Well that Ends Well.

Get thee a good husband, and use him as he uses thee:
So farewell.
Exit.

Hel. Our remedies oft in our felves do lye,
Which we aferbe to heaven: the fated skye
Gives us free scope, onely doth backward pull
Our flow defignes, when we our felves are dull.
What power is it, which mounts my love so hye,
That makes me fee, and cannot feede mine eye?
The mightiest space in fortune, Nature brings
To joyne like, likes, and kiffle like native things.
Impossible be it range attempts to thofe
That weigh their paines in fence, and do suppofe
What hath beene, cannot be. Who ever ftroue
To shew her merit, that did miffle her love?
(The Kings difeaſe) my project may deceive me,
But my intents are fixt, and will not leave me.
Exit.

Flourish Cornets.
Enter the King of France with Letters, and
Divers Attendants.

King. The Florentines and Senoys are by th'eares,
Have fought with equall fortune, and continue
A braving warre.

1. Lo. G. So tis reported fir.

Kin. Nay tis moſt credible, we heere receive it,
A certainty vouch'd from our Cofin *Austria*,
With caution, that the *Florentine* will move us
For ſpeedy aide: wherein our deereſt friend
Prejudicates the buſineſſe, and would feeme
To have us make deniall.

1. Lo. G. His love and wifedome
Approv'd to your Majeſtyle, may plearde
For ampleſt credence.

Kin. He hath arm'd our anſwer,
And *Florence* is deni'de before he comes:
Yet for our Gentlemen that meane to fee
The *Tuscan* ſervice, freely have they leave
To ſtand on either part.

2. Lo. E. It well may ſerne
A nurſſery to our Gentry, who are ſicke
For breathing, and exploit.

King. What's he comes heere.

Enter Betram, Lafw, and Parolles.

1. Lo. G. It'tis the Count *Rofillion* my good Lord,
Yong *Bertram*.

King. Youth, thou bear'ſt thy Fathers face,
Franke Nature rather curious then in haſt.
Hath well compoſ'd thee: Thy Fathers morall parts
Maſt thou inherit too: Welcome to *Paris*.

Ber. My thanks and duty are your Majeſties.

Kin. I would I had that corporal foundneſſe now,
As when thy father, and my ſelfe, in friendſhip
First tride our ſouldierſhip: he did looke farre
Into the ſervice of the time, and was
Difſciled of the braveſt. He laſted long,
But on us both did haggifh Age ſteale on,
And wore us out of act: it much repaires me:
To talke of your good father; in his youth
He had the wit, which I can well obſerve
To day in our yong Lords: but they may jeſt
Till their owne ſcorne returne to them unnoted
Ere they can hide their levitie in honour:
So like a Courtier, contempt nor bitterneſſe

Were in his pride, or hารпеſſe; if they were,
His equall had awak'd them; and his honour
Clocke to it ſelſe, knew the true minute when
Exception bid him ſpeake, and at this time
His tongue obey'd his hand. Who were below him,
He us'd as creatures of another place,
And bow'd his eminent top to their low rankes,
Making them proud of his humility,
In their poore praiſe he humbled: Such a man
Might be a copie to theſe yonger times;
Which followed well, would demonſtratethem now
But goers backward.

Ber. His good remembrance fir
Lies richer in your thoughts, then on his tombe:
So in approoſe lives not his Epitaph,
As in your royall ſpeech.

King. Would I were with him: he would alwaies ſay,
(Me thinkes I heare him now) his plauſive words
He ſcatter'd not in eares, but grafted them
To grow there and to beare: Let me not live,
This his good melancholly oft began
On the Cataſtrophe and heele of paftime
When it was out: Let me not live (quoth hee)
After my flame lacke oyle, to be the ſnuffe
Of yonger ſpirits, whose apprehenſive ſenſes
All but new things diſdaine; whoſe judgements are
Meere fathers of their garments: whoſe conſtancies
Expire before their ſafhions: this he wifh'd.

I after him, do after him wifh too:
(Since I nor wax nor honie can bring home,)  
I quickly were diſſolved from my hive  
To give ſome Labourers room;

L.2.E. You'loved Sir,
They that leaſt lend it you ſhall lacke you firſt.

Kin. I fill a place I know't, how long iſt Count
Since the Phyſitian at your fathers died?
He was much fam'd.

Ber. Some fix moneths ſince my Lord.

Kin. If he were living, I would try him yet.
Lend me an armeth the reſt have worne me out
With ſeverall applications: Nature and ſiekneſſe
Debate at their leifure. Welcome Count,
My ſonne's no decer.

Ber, Thanke your Majeſtyle.

Flourish.
Enter Counteſſe, Steward, and Clowne.

Con. I will now heare, what ſay you of this gentlewoman.

St. Maddam the care I have had to even your con-
tent, I wifh might be found in the Kalender of my paſ-
endevours, for then we wound our Modestie, and make
foule the clearneſſe of our defervings, when of our ſelves
we publifh them.

Con. What doe's this knave heere? Get you gone firra:
the complaints I have heard of you I do not all believe,
'tis my flowneſſe that I do not: For I know you lacke
not foliy to commit them, and have ability enough to
make ſuch knaveries yours.

Clo. 'Tis not unknowne to you Madam, I am a poore
fellow.

Con. Well fir.

Clo. No maddam,
'Tis not ſo well that I am poore, though manie

All's Well, that Ends Well.

of the rich are damn'd, but if I have your Ladifications good
will to goe to the world, Isbel the woman and I will doe as
we may.

Cou. Wilt thou needes be a begger?

Clo. I doe beg your good will in this cafe.

Cou. In what cafe?

Clo. In Isbels cafe and mine owne: service is no heritage, and I thinke I shall never have the bleffing of God, till I have iflie a my bodie: for they fay bearnes are bleffings.

Cou. Tell me thy reafon why thou wilt marrie?

Clo. My poore body Madam requires it, I am driven on
by the flefh, and he muft needes goe that the divell
drives.

Cou. Is this all your worships reafon ?

Clo. Faith Madam I have other holie reafons, fuch as
they are.

Cou. May the world know them ?

Clo. I have beene Madam a wicked creature, as you and all flefh and blood are, and indeede I doe marrie that I may repent.

Cou. Thy marriage sooner then thy wickedneſſe.

Clo. I am out a friends Madam, and I hope to have
friends for my wives ſake.

Cou. Such friends are thine enemies knaue.

Clo. Yare shallow Madam in great friends, for the
knaves come to doe that for me which I am a wearie of:
he that eares my Land, ſpares my teame, and gives mee
leave to Inne the crop: if I bee his Cuckold, hee's my
drudge; he that comforts my wife, is the cheriſher of my
ſlefh and blood; he that cheriſheth my fleſh and blood,
loves my fleſh and blood; he that loves my fleſh and
blood is my friend: ergo, he that kiffes my wife is my
friend: if men could bee contented to be what they are,
there were no feare in marriage, for yong Charbon the
Puritan, and olde Payfams the Papift, how ſomere their
hartesere feuer'd in Religion, their headsere are both one,
they may joule bornes together like any Deare i'th Herd.

Cou. Wilt thou ever be a foule mouth'd and calum-
nious knaue?

Clo. A prophet I Madam, and I ſpeake the truth the
next way, for I the Ballad will repeat, which men full
true shall finde, your marriage comes by definity, your
Cuckow ſings by kinde.

Cou. Get you gone fir, Ile talke with you more anon.

Stew. May it pleafe you Madam, that hee bid Hellen
come to you, of her I am to ſpeake.

Cou. Sirra tell my gentlewoman I would ſpeake with her, Hellen I meane.

Clo. Was this faire face the caufe, quoth ſhe,
Why the Grecians facked Troy,

Fond done, done, fond was this King Priams joy,
With that ſhe ſfighed as ſhe flood, bis

And gae this ſentence then, among nine bad if one be
good, among nine bad if one be good, there's yet one
good inten.

Cou. What, one good in tenne? you corrupt the ſong
firra.

Clo. One good woman in ten Madam, which is a pur-
rifying ath'ong: would God would ferue the world ſo
all the yeere, weed finde no fault with the tithe woman
if I were the Parfen, one in ten quoth a? and wee might
have a good woman borne but ore every blazing ſtarre,
or at an earthquake, 'twould mend the Lotterie well, a
man may draw his heart out ere a plucke one.

Cou. Youle be gone fir knaue, and doe as I command
you?

Clo. That man ſhould be at a woman's command, and
yet no hurt done, though honestie be no Puritan, yet it
will doe no hurt, it will weare the Surplis of humilitie
over the blacke-Gowne of a bigge heart: I am going for-
footh, the bufineſſe is for Hellen to come hither.

Cou. Well now.

Exit.

Stew. I know Madam you love your Gentlewoman in-
tirely.

Cou. Faith I doe: her Father bequeath'd her to me, and
ſhe her ſelfe without other advantage, may lawſullie make
title to as much love as ſhe findes, there is more owing
her then is paid, and more ſhall be paid her then ſheele
demand.

Stew. Madam, I was verie late more neere her then I
thinke ſhe wifht me, alone ſhe was, and did communicate
to her ſelfe her owne words to her owne eares, ſhee
thought, I dare vow for her, they toucht not any ftranger
fence, her matter was, ſhe loved your Sonne; Fortune
ſhe ſayd wasno goddeſſe, that had put ſuch difference be-
twixt their two eſtates: Love no god, that would not
extend his might onely, where qualities were level,
Queene of Virgins, that would ſuffer her poore
Knight ſurpris'd without ſefene in the firſt aftault or ran-
fome afterward: This ſhe deliver'd in the moſt bitter
touch of forrow that ere I heard Virgin exclaime in,
which I held my dutie ſpeedily to acquaint you withall,
ſithence in the loffe that may happen, it concernes you
fomething to know it.

Cou. You have diſcharg'd this honestlie, keepe it
to your ſelfe, manie likelikhoods inform'd mee of this
before, which hung fo tottring in the ballance, that
I could never beleeve nor miſdoubt: pray you leave
mee, ſtall this in your boſome, and I thanke you
for your honest care: I will ſpeake with you further
anon.

Exit Steward.

Entier Hellen.

Old, Cou. Even ſo it was with me when I was young:
If ever we are natures theſe are ours, this thorne

Doth to our Rofe of youth righlie belong

Our bloud to us, this to our blood is borne,

It is the flow, and ſeale of natures truth,

Where loves ſtrong paſſion is impreſt in youth,

By our remembrances of daies forgon,

Such were our faults, or then we thought them none,

Her eie is ſicke on't, I obſerve her now.

Hel. What is your pleafure Madam ?

Ol. Cou. You know Hellen I am a mother to you.

Hel. Mine honorable Miftris.

Ol. Cou. Naya mother, why not a mother ? when I
fed a mother.

Me thought you faw a ſerpent, what's in mother

That you flart at it? I lay I am your mother,

And put you in the Catalogue of thate

That were enwombed mine, 'tis often ſeene

Adoption ſtrives with nature, and choife breedes

A natüe flip to us from forraine feedes :

You ne're oppreſſe me with a mothers groane,

Yet I exprefſe to you a mothers care,

(Gods mercie maiden) dos it curd thy blood

To ſay I am thy mother ? what's the matter,

That this dſtempered meſſenger of wet,

V 3

The

All's Well that Ends Well.

234

The manie colour'd Iris rounds thine eye?

— Why, that you art my daughter?

Hell. That I am not.

Old. Con. I fay I am your Mother.

Hell. Pardon Madam.

The Count Refillation cannot be my brother :

I am from humble, he from honoured name:

No note upon my Parents, his all noble,

My Mafter, my deere Lord he is, and I

His fervant live, and will his vassall die:

He muft not be my brother.

Ol. Con. Nor I your Mother.

Hell. You are my mother Madam, wou'd you were
So that my Lord your fonne were not my brother,

Indeed my mother, or were you both our mothers,

I care no more for, then I doe for heaven,

So I were not his lifter, cant no other,

But I your daughter, he muſt be my brother.

Old. Con. Yes Hellen, you might be my daughter in law,
God thield you meane it not, daughter and mother

So ſtrive upon your pulſe; what pale agen?

My ſeare hath catcht your fondneſſe ! now I ſee

The miſtrie of your lovelineſſe, and finde

Your ſalt teares head, now to all fence 'ts groſſe :

You love my ſonne, invention is alham'd

Aginſt the proclamation of thy paſſion

To ſay thou doſt not : therefore tell me true,

But tell me then 'tis fo, for looke, thy cheekes

Conſeſſe it 'ton to th'other, and thine eyes

See it is ſo groſſely ſhowne in thy behaviors,

That in their kinde they ſpeake it, onely ſinne

And helliſh obſtinacie tye thy tongue

That truth ſhould be ſuſpect'd, ſpeake, iſt fo?

If it be ſo, you haue wound a goodly clewε:

If it be not, forſweare't how ere I charge thee,

As heaven ſhall worke in me for mine availe

To tell me truely.

Hell. Good Madam pardon me.

Con. Do you lioue my Sonne ?

Hell. Your pardon noble Miftris.

Con. Love you my Sonne ?

Hell. Doe not you love him Madam ?

Con. Goe not about ; my love hath i'n't a bond

Whereof the world takes note : Come, come, diſcloſe :

The ſtate of your affection, for your paſſions

Have to the full approach'd.

Hell. Then I confefſſe

Here on my knee, before high heavens and you,

That before you, and next unto high heaven, I love your

Sonne :

My friends were poore but honest, fo's my love :

Be not offended, for it hurts not him

That he is lov'd of me ; I follow him not

By any token of prefumptuous ſuite,

Nor would I have him, till I doe deferve him,

Yet never know how that defert ſhould be :

I know I love in vaine, ſtrive againſt hope :

Yet in this captious, and intenible Sive.

I fill poure in the waters of my love

And lacke not to loose ſill; thus Indian like

Religious in mine error, I adore

The Sunne that lookes upon his worſhipper,

But knowes of him no more. My deere Madam,

Let not your hate encounter with my love

For loving where you doe ; but if your ſelfe,

Whofe aged honor cites a vertuous youth,

Did ever, in ſo true a flame of living,

With chafily, and love deerely, that your Dian

Was both her ſelfe and love, O then give pitty

To her whole ſlate is ſuch, that cannot choose

But lend and give where he is ſure to loose ;

That feekes not to finde that, ſeare implies,

But riddle like, lives ſweetely where he dies.

Con. Had you not lately an intent, ſpeake truely,
To goe to Paris ?

Hell. Madam I had.

Con. Wherefore? tell true.

Hell. I will tell true, by grace it ſelfe I ſweare :
You know my Father left me ſome preſcriptions
Of rare and prov'd effects, ſuch as his reading
And manifeft experience, had collected

For generall ſoveraigntie : and that he will'd me

In heedeſt ſt refervation to beſtow them,

As notes, whose faculties incluſive were,

More then they were in note : Amongſt the reſt,

There is a remedie, approv'd, fet downe,

To cure the deſperate languifhings whereof

The King is render'd loſt.

Con. This was your motive for Paris, was it, ſpeake?

Hell. My Lord, your ſonne, made me to thinke of this,
Elle Paris, and the medicine, and the King,
Had from the converſation of my thoughts,
Happily beene absent then.

Con. But thinke you Hellen,

If you ſhould tender your ſuppofed aide,

He would receive it ? He and his phtitions

Are of a minde; he, that they cannot helpe him :

They, that they cannot helpe, how ſhall they credit

A poore unlearned Virgin, when the Schooles

Embowel'd of their doctrine, have leſ ſoff

The danger to it ſelfe.

Hell. There's ſomething in't

More then my Fathers skill, which was the great ſt

Of his poffeſion, that his good receipt,

Shall for my legacie be ſanctified

Byth' luckieſt ſtars in heaven, and would your honor

But give me leave to ſucſeſſe, I'd venture

The well loft life of mine, on his Graces cure,

by ſuch a day, and hour.

Hell. Doo't thou beleeve't?

Hell. I Madam knowingly.

Con. Why Hellen thou ſhalt have my leave and love,

Meanes and attendants, and my loving greetings

To thofe of mine in Court, Ile ſlay at home

And pray Gods bleſſing into thy attempt :

Begon to morrow, and be ſure of this;

What I can helpe thee to, thou ſhalt not miſſe.

Exenues.

Actus Secundus.

Enter the King with divers young Lords, taking leave for the Florentine warre : Connt Roffe, and Parrolles. Florib Cornets.

King. Farewell young Lords, theſe warlike principles
Doe not throw from you, and you my Lords farewell :
Share the advice betwixt you, if both gaine, all
The guift doth ſtretch it ſelfe as 'tis receiv'd,
And is enough for both.

Lord. g. 'Tis our hope fir,

After

All's Well, that Ends Well.

After well entred fouldiers, to returne
And finde your grace in health.

King. No, no, it cannot be; and yet my heart
Will not confesse he owes the mallady
That doth my life befiege: farwell yong Lords,
Whether I live or die, be you the fonnes
Of worthy French men: let higher Italy
(Thofe bated that inherit but the fall
Of the laft Monarchy) fee that you come
Not to wooe honour, but to wed it, when
The bravest question thrinkes : finde what you feeke,
That fame may cry you loud: I fay farewell.

L.G. Health at your bidding ferne your Maiefty.
King. Thofe girles of Italy, take heed of them,
They lay our French, lacke language to deny
If they demand: beware of being Captiues
Before you ferne.

To. Our bartes receiue your warnings,

King. Farewell, come hether to me. (us.

1. Lo. G. Oh my freew Lord that you will flay behind
Parr. 'Tis not his fault the sparke.

2. Lo. E. Oh'tis braue warres.

Parr. Moft admirablie, I have feene thole warres.

Roffill. I am commanded here, and kept acoyle with,
Too young, and the next yeere, and'tis too early.

Parr. And thy minde fand too't boy,

Steale away braely.

Roffill. I fhall flay here the for-horse to a smoeke,

Creeking my fnooes on the plaine Mafonry,
Till honour be bought up, and no fword worne
But one to dance with: by heauen, Ile feale away.

I. Lo. G. There's honour in the theft.
Parr. Commit it Count.

2. Lo. E. I am your accesseary, and to farewell.

Rof. I grow to you, and our parting is a tortur'd body.

I. Lo. G. Farewell Captaine.

2. Lo. E. Sweet Monfier Parolles.

Par. Noble Heroes; my fword and yours are kinne,
good sparkes and lustrous, a word good metals. You
shall finde in the Regiment of the Spinij, one Captaine
Spurio his Cicatrice, with an Embleme of warre hec on
his finifter cheeke ; it was this very fword entrench'd it:
fly to him I live, and obferue his reports for me.

Lo. G. We shall noble Captaine.

Par. Mars doate on you for his novices, what will ye
doe?

Roff. Stay : the King.

Par. Vie a more spacious ceremonie to the Noble
Lords, you have reitrain'd your felfe within the Lift of too
cold an adieu: be more expressive to them; for they weare
themfelves in the cap of the time, there do mufter true
gate; eat, (speake, and more under the influence of the
moft receiv'd ſtarre, and though the divell leade the mea-
fure, fuch are to be followed: after them, and take a more
dilated farewell.

Roff. And I will, doe fo.

Par. Worthy fellowes, and like to proove moft finewie
fword-men. Exeunt.

Enter Lafew.

L. Laf. Pardon my Lord for me and for my tidings.

King. Ile fee thee to ſtand up. (pardon,

L. Laf. Then heres a man ſlands that hath brought his
I would you had kneeld my Lord to aske me mercies,
And that at my bidding you could ſo ſtand up.

King. I would I had, to I had broke thy pate

And askt thee mercy for't.

Laf. Goodfaith a-croſſe, but my good Lord 'tis thus,
Will you be cur'd of your infirmity?

King. No.

Laf. O will you eate no grapes my roylall foxe?
Yes but you will, my noble grapes, and if

My roylall foxe could reach them: I have feene a medicine
That's able to breathe life into a ſtone,

Quicken a rocke, and make you dance Canary

With ſprightly fire and motion, whole ſimple touch

Is powerfull to arayle King Pippen, nay

To give great Charlemaine a pen in's hand

And write to her a love-line.

Kin. What her is this?

Laf. Why doctor ſhe: my Lord, there's one arriv'd,
If you will fee her: now by my faith and honour,

If feriously I may convoy my thoughts

In this my light deliverance, I have ſpoke

With one, that in her ſexe, her yeeres, proſeſſion,

Wifedome and conſtancy, hath amaz'd me more

Then I dare blame my weakenefle: will you fee her?

For that is her demand, and know her buſineſſe ?

That done, laugh well at me.

King. Now good Lafew.

Bring in the admiration, that we with thee

May ſpend our wonder too, or take off thine

By wondring how thou took'st it.

Laf. Nay, Ile fit you,

And not be all day neither.

King. Thus he his ſpeciall nothing ever prologues.

Laf. Nay, come your wayes.

Enter Hellen.

King. This hafte hath wings indeed.

Laf. Nay, come your wayes,

This is his Majeftie, ſay your minde to him,

A traitor you doe looke like, but ſuch traitors

His Majeftie ſeldome feares, I am Creffeds Vncle,

That dare leave two together, fare you well.

Exit.

King. Now faire one, do's your buſines follow us?

Hel. I my good Lord.

Gerard de Narbon was my father,

In what he did proſeſſe, we'll found.

King. I knew him.

Hel. The rather will I ſpare my praifes towards him,

Knowing him is enough : on's bed of death,

Many receits he gave me, chieſlie one,

Which as the deareſt illuſe of his practice

And of his old experience, th'onelie darling,

He bad me ſtore up, as a triple eye,

Safer then mine owne two : more deare I have ſo,

And hearing your high Majeftie is toucht

With that malignant canfe, wherein the honour

Of my deere fathers gtft, ſlands cheeſe in power,

I come to tender it, and my appliance,

With a ll bound humbleneſſe.

King. We thanke you maiden,

But may not be ſo credulous of cure,

When our moſt learned Doctors leave us, and

The congregated Colledge have concluded,

That labouring art can never ranſome nature

From her inaydible eſtate : I fay we muſt not

So ſtaine our judgement, or corrupt our hope,

To profiture our paſt-cure malladie

To empericks, or to diſſever ſo

Our great ſelfe and our credit, to eſteeme

A fenceleſſe helpe, when helpe paſt ſence we deeme.

Hel. My

All's Well that Ends Well.

**Hell.** My duty then shall pay me for my paines :
I will no more enforce my office on you,
Humbly intreating from your royall thoughts,
A modest one to beare me backe againe.

**King.** I cannot give thee leffe to be cal'd gratefull :
Thou thoughtst to helpe me, and such thanks I give,
As one neer death to thofe that wifh him live :
But what at full I know, thou knowst no part,
I knowing all my perill, thou no Art.

**Hell.** What I can doe, can doe no hurt to try,
Since you fet up your reft 'gainst remedie :
He that of greatest workes is finifher.
Of does them by the weakeft minifter :

So holy Writ, in babes hath judgement showne,
When Judges have bin babes; great flouds have flowne
From Simple sources; and great Seas have dried
When Miracles have by the great'ft bee ne denied.

Oft expectation failes, and moft of there
Where moft it promifes: and oft it hits,
Where hope is coldeft, and defpaire moft shifts.

**King.** I muft not heare thee, fare thee well kind maide,
Thy paines not us'd, muft by thy felfe be paid,
Proffers not tooke, reape thankes for their reward.

**Hell.** Inspired Merit so by breath is bard,
It is not so with him that all things knowes
As 'tis with us, that square our gueffe by flowes :

But moft it is prefumption in us, when
The helpe of heaven we count the act of men.

Deare fir, to my endeavors give conſent,
Of heaven, not me, make an experiment,

I am not an Impoſtrue, that proclaime
My ſelfe againſt the levill of mine aime,

But know I thinke, and thinke I know moſt ſure,

My Art is not paſt power, nor you paſt cure,

**King.** Art thou ſo confident ? Within what ſpace
Hop'ft thou my cure ?

**Hel.** The greatest grace lending grace,
Ere twice the horſes of the ſunne ſhall bring
Their ſirie torcher his diurnall ring.

Ere twice in murke and occidentall dampe
Moſt Hesperus hath quench'd her fleepy Lampe :

Or foure and twentie times the Pylors glaſſe

Hath told the theevil minutes, how they paffe :
What is infirme, from your found parts ſhall flie,
Health ſhall live free, and fickneſſe freely dye.

**King.** Vpon thy certainty and confidence,
What dar'ft thou venture ?

**Hel.** Taxe of impudence,
A ſtrumpets boldneſſe, a divulged ſhame

Tradue'd by odious ballads: my maidens name

Seard otherwife, no worſe of worſt extended

With vildeſt torture, let my life be ended.

**Kin.** Me thinkes in thee ſome bleſſed ſpirit doth ſpeak
His powerfull found, wherein an organ weake :

And what impoffibility would ſlay

In common ſenſe, ſence ſaves another way :
Thy life is deere, for all that life can rate

Worth name of life, in thee hath eſtimate :

Youth, beauty, wifedome, courage, all

That happineſſe and prime, can happie call :

Thou this to hazard, needs muſt intimate

Skill infinite, or monſtrous deſperate:

Sweet practifer, thy Phyſicke I will try,
That minifters thine owne death if I die,

**Hel.** If I breake time, or flinch in propertie
Of what I ſpoke, unpittied let me die,

And well deferu'd : not helping, death's my fee,
But if I helpe, what doe you promife me.

**Kin.** Make thy demand.

**Hel.** But will you make it even ?

**Kin.** I by my Scepter, and my hopes of helpe.

**Hel.** Then ſhalt thou give me with thy kingly hand
What husband in thy power I will command :

Exempted be from me the arrogance

To choose from forth the royall cloud of France,
My low and humble name to propagate

With any branch or image of thy ſtate :

But ſuch a one thy vaffall, w hom I know

Is free for me to aske, thee to beſtow.

**Kin.** Here is my hand, the premifes ob ſerv'd,
Thy will by my performance ſhall be ſerv'd

So make the choice of thine owne time, for I

Thy ſrefu'd Patient, on thee ſtill relye :

More ſhould I queſtion thee, and more I muſt,

Though more to know, could not be more to truſt :
From whence thou cam't, how tended on, but reſt
Vnqueſtion'd welcome, and undoubt'd bleſt.

Give me ſome helpe here hoa, if thou proceed,

As high as word, my deed shall match thy deed.

Exeunt.

Enter Caunteſſe and Clowne.

**Lady.** Come on fir, I ſhall now put you to the height
of your breeding.

**Clown.** I will ſhow my ſelfe highly fed, and lowly
taught, I know my buſin ſe is but to the Court.

**Lady.** To the Court, why what place make you ſpeci-
all, when you put off that with ſuch contempt, butto
the Court ?

**Clo.** Truly Madam, if God have lent a man any man-
ners, hee may eafilie put it off at Court : he that cannot
make a legge, put off's cap, kiffe his hand, and fay nothing,
has neither legge, hands, lippe, nor cap ; and indeed ſuch
a fellow, to fay precifely, were not for the Court, but for
me, I have an anſwere will ſerve all men.

**Lady.** Marry that's a bountifull anſwere that fits all queſtions.

**Clo.** It is like a Barbers chaire that fits all buttockes,
the pin buttocke, the quatch-buttocke, the brawnbut-
tocke, or any buttocke.

**Lady.** Will your anſwere ſerve fit to all queſtions?

**Clo.** As fit as ten groates is for the hand of an Attnumer,
as your French Crowne for your taffety punke, as Tibi
ruſh for Toms forefinger, as a pancake for Shrovetueſday,
Morris for May-day, as the naile to his hole, the Cuckold
to his horne, as a ſcolding queane to a wrangling knave,
as the Nun's lip to the Friers mouth, nay as the pudding
to his skin.

**Lady.** Have you, I fay, an anſwer of ſuch fitneſſe for all queſtions?

**Clo.** From below your Duke, to beneath your Conſita-
ble, it will fit any queſtion.

**Lady.** It muſt bee an anſwere of moſt monſtrous ſize,
that muſt fit all demands.

**Clo.** But a trifle neither in good faith, if the learned
ſhould ſpeake truth of it: heere it is, and all that belongs
to't. Aske mee if I am a Courtier, it ſhall doe you no
harme to learne.

**Lady.** To bee young againe if we could: I will bee a
foole in queſtion, hoping to bee the wiser by your an-
fwer.

Lady.

All's Well, that Ends Well.

La. I pray you fir, are you a Courtier ?

Clo. O Lord fir there's a fimple patting off: more, more,
a hundred of them.

La. Sir I am a poore friend of yours, that loves you.

Clo. O Lord fir, thicke, thicke, I spare not me.

La. I thinke fir, you can eate none of this homely meate.

Clo. O Lord fir ; nay put me too'r, I warrant you.

La. You were lately whipt fir as I thinke.

Clo. O Lord fir, I spare not me.

La. Doe you cry O Lord fir at your whipping, and
I spare not me? Indeed your O Lord fir, is very frequent
to your whipping : you would anſwere very well to a
whipping if you were but bound too't.

Clo. I ne're had worſe lucke in my life in my O Lord
fir : I fee things may ferue long, but not ferue ever.

La. I play the noble huſwife with the time, to enter-
taine it ſo merrily with a fooler.

Clo. O Lord fir, why there't ſerves well age.

La. And end fir to your buſineſſe give Hellen this,

And urge her to a preſent anſwer backe,

Commend me to my kinfmen, and my ſonne,

This is not much.

Clo. Not much commendation to them.

La. Not much employment for you, you understand me.

Clo. Moſt fruitfully, I am there, before my legges.

La. Haſt you agen.

Exeunt.

Enter Count, Lafew, and Parolles.

Ol. Laf. They ſay miracles are paſt, and we have our
Philofophicall perſons, to make moderne and familiar
things ſupernaturall and cauſeleſe. Hence is it, that wee
make trifles of terrours, enſconcing our ſelves into ſee-
ming knowledge, when we should ſubmit our ſelves to
an unknownne ſeare.

Par. Why 'tis the rareſt argument of wonder, that he
hot out in our latter times.

Reſ. And fo'tis.

Ol. Laf. To be relinquifht of the Artiſts.

Par. So I ſay both of Galen and Paracelsus.

Ol. Laf. Of all the learned and authentieke ſellowes.

Par. Right fo I ſay.

OL. Laf. That gave him out incurable.

Par. Why there'tis, fo ſay I too.

OL. Laf. Not to be help'd.

Par. Right, as 'twere a man affur'd of a—

OL. Laf. Vncertaine life, and ſure death.

Par. Inſuſ you ſay well: ſo would I have ſaid.

OL. Laf. I may truly ſay, it is a noveltie to the world.

Par. It is indeed if you will have it in ſhewing, you
hall reade it in what do ye call there.

OL. Laf. A ſhewing of a heavenly effect in an earthly
Actor.

Par. That's it, I would have ſaid, the very fame.

OL. Laf. Why your Dolphin is not luſtler: for me
I ſpeake in reſpect—

Par. Nay 'tis ſtrange, 'tis very ſtrange, that is the
breeſe and the tedious of it, and he's of a moſt facinerious
ſpirit, that will not acknowledge it to be the—

OL. Laf. Very hand of heaven.

Par. I, ſo I ſay.

OL. Laf. In a moſt weake—

Par. And debile minifter great power, great tran-
cendence, which ſhould indeed give us a further uſe to

be made, then onely the recou'ry of the king, as to be—
Ol. Laf. Generally thankefull.

Enter King, Hellen, and attendants.

Par. I would have faid it, you ſaid well: heere comes
the King,

Ol. Laf. Luftique, as the Dutchman ſayes: Ile like a
maide the better while I have a tooth in my head: why
he's able to leade her a Carranto.

Par. Mor du vinager, is not this Helen?

Ol. Laf. Fore God I thinke so.

King. Goe call before me all the Lords in Court,
Sit my preferuer by thy patients ſide,

And with this healthfull hand whoſe banifht ſence

Thou haſt repeal'd, a ſecond time receyue

The confirmation of my promis'd guift,

Which but attends thy naming.

Enter 3 or 4 Lords.

Fairs Maide ſend forth thine eye, this youthfull parcell
Of Noble Batchellors, ſand at my beſtowing.

Ore whom both Soueraigne power, and fathers voice

I have to vſe; thy franke election make,

Thou haſt power to chooſe, and they none to forſake.

Hel. To each of you, one faire and vertuous Miftris;
Fall when love pleafe, marry to each but one.

Old. Fal. I'd give bay curtall, and his furniture,
My mouth no more were broken then theſe boyes,
And writ as little beard.

King. Perufe them well:

Not one of thofe, but had a Noble father.

She addreffes her to a Lord.

Hel. Gentlemen, heaven hath through mee, reſtor'd
the king to health.

All. We underſtand it, and thanke heaven for you.

Hel. I am a ſimple Maide, and therein wealthieſt

That I proteſt, I finply am a maide:

Please it your majeſtie, I have done already :

The bluſhes in my cheekes thus whifper me,

We bluſh that thou ſhouldſt chooſe, but be reſuſed;

Let the white death fit on thy cheeke for ever,

Wee'l Incere come there againe.

King. Make choife and fee,

Who ſhuns thy love, ſhuns all his love in me.

Hel. Now Dian from thy Altar do I fly,

And to imperiall Love, that God moſt high

Do my ſighes ſtreame: Sir, will you heare my ſuite?

1. Lo. And graunt it.

Hel. Thankes fir, all the reſt is mute.

OL. Laf. I had rather be in this choife, then throw

A deaſt-ace for my life.

Hel. The honour fir that flames in your faire eyes,

Before I ſpeake too threateningly replies :

Love make your fortunes twentie times above

Her that ſwifes, and her humble love.

2. Lo. No better if you pleafe.

Hel. My wifh receive,

Which great love grant, and ſo I take my leave.

OL. Laf. Do all they denie her ? And they were ſons of
mine, I'd have them whip'd, or I would ſend them to'th
Turke to make Eunuches of.

Hel. Be not aſraid that I your hand ſhould take,

Ile never do you wrong for your owne ſake:

Bleſſing upon your vowes, and in your bed

Finde fairer fortune, if you ere wed.

Old. Laf. Theſe boyes are boyes of Ice, they'le none
have

All's Well that Ends Well.

have her : sure they are baſtards to the English, the French ne're got em.

La. You are to young, too happy, and too good
To make your ſelfe a ſonne out of my blood.

4. Lord. Faire one, I thinke not so.

Ol. Lord. There's one grape yet, I am sure my father
drunke wine. But if thou be't not an anſe, I am a youth
of ſoureene : I have knowne thee already.

Hel. I dare not ſay I take you, but I give
Me and my ſervic[e], ever whilſt I live
Into your guiding power : This is the man.

King. Why then young Bertram take her ſhee's thy
wife.

Ber. My wife my Leige ? I ſhall beſeech your highneſſe
In ſuch a busines, give me leave to uſe
The helpe of mine owne eyes.

King. Know it thou not Bertram what ſhee ha's done
for me?

Ber. Yes my good Lord, but never hope to know why
I should marrie her.

King. Thou know'st ſhee ha's rais'd mee from my fick-
ly bed.

Ber. But followes it my Lord, to bring me downe
Muſt anſwer for your raſing ? I know her well :
Shee had her breeding at my fathers charge :
A poore Phyſitians daughter my wife ? Difdaine
Rather corrupt me ever.

King. Tis onely title thon diſdainſt in her, the which
I can build up : ſtrange is it that our bloods
Of colour, waight, and heat; pour'd all together,
Would quite confound diſtinction : yet stands off
In differences of mightie. If the be
All that is vertuous (lave what thou diſſik't)
A poore phyſitians daughter, thou diſſik't
Of vertue for the name : but doe not ſo :
From loweſt place, whence vertuous things proceed,
The place is dignified by th'doers deede.
Where great addition ſwell's, and vertue none,
It is a droptſed honour, Good a lone,
Is good without a name ? Vileneſſe is ſo :
The property by what it is, should go,
Not by the title. She is young, wife, faire,
In theſe, to Nature theſe immediate heire :
And theſe breed honour : that is honours ſcorne,
Which challenges it ſelfe as honours borne,
And is not like the fire: Honours beſt thrive,
When rather from our acts we them derive
Then our fore-goers : the meere word's a ſlave
Deboſh'd on every tombe, on every grave :
A lying Trophee, and as oft is dumbe,
Where duſt, and damn'd oblivion is the Tombe.
Of honour'd bones indeed, what should be faid?
If thou canſt like this creature, as a maide,
I can create the reſt : Vertue, and ſhee
Is her owne dower : Honour and wealth, from me.

Ber. I cannot love her, nor will I ſtrive to do't.

King. Thou wrong't thy ſelfe, if thou should't ſtrive
to choofe.

Hel. That you are well reſtor'd my Lord, I'me glad :
Let the reſt go.

King. My Honor's at the ſake, which to defeat
I muſt produce my power. Heere, take her hand,
Proud ſcornefull boy, unworthie this good gift,
That doth in vile miſprifion ſhackle up
My love, and her defert : that canſt not dreame,
We poizing us in her defective ſcal[e],

Shall weigh thee to the beame : That wilt not know,
It is in Vsto plant thine Honour, where
We pleafe to have it grow. Checke thy contempt:
Obey Our will, which travailes in thy good :
Beleve not thy diſdaine, but p[re]ſently
Do thine owne fortunes that obedient right
Which both thy dutie owes, and our power claims.
Or I will through thee from my care for ever
Into the ſtaggers and careleſſe lapſe
Of youth and ignorance: both my revenge and hate
Loofing upon thee, in the name of justice,
Without all termes of pitty. Speake, thine anſwer.

Ber. Pardon my gracious Lord : for I ſubmit
My fancie to your eyes, when I consider
What great creation, and what dole of honour
Flies where you bid it : I finde that ſhe which late
Was in my nobler thoughts, moſt bafe : is now
The prafed of the King, who to ennobled,
Is as't were borne ſo.

King. Take her by the hand.
And tell her ſhe is thine : to whom I promife
A counterpoize : If not in thy eſtate,
A ballance more replaet.

Ber. I take her hand.

Kin. Good fortune, and the favour of the King
Smile upon the contract: whoſe Ceremonie
Shall ſeeme expedient on the now borne briefe,
And be perform'd to night : the ſolenn[e] ſeak
Shall more attend upon the coming ſpace,
Expecting abſent friends. As thou lov'st her,
Thy love's to me Religious : eſſe, do's erre

Exenunt,

Parables and Laſew Stay behind, common-
ting of this wedd[ing].

Laf. Doe you heare Monſieur ? A word with you.

Par. Your pleafure fir.

Laf. Your Lord and Maſter did well to make his re-
cantation.

Par. Recantation ? My Lord ? my maſter ?

Laf. I : Is it not a Language I peake ?

Par. A moſt harſh one, and not to be underſood
without bloudie ſucceeding. My Maſter ?

Laf. Are you companion to the count Reſoſtion?

Par. To any Count, to all Counts : to what is man.

Laf. To what is counts man : Counts maſter is of an-
other ſtyle.

Par. You are too old fir : Let it ſatifie you, you are
too old.

Laf. I muſt tell thee ſirra, I write Man: to which til-
tage cannot bring thee.

Par. What I dare too well do, I dare not do.

Laf. I did thinke thee for two ordinaries: to bee a pre-
tie wife fellow, thou diſdill make tolerable vent of thy tra-
vel, it might p[affe] : yet the ſcarſes and the bannerets a
bout thee, did maniſoldly diſwade me from belewing
thee a veſſel of too great aburthen. I have now found
thee, when I lobe thee againe, I care not: yet art thou
good for nothing but taking up, and that th' our ſcarce
worth.

Far. Had it thou not the privilege of Antiquitie upon
thee,

Laf. Doe not plunge thy ſelfe too farre in anger, leaſt
thou haſſen thy triall : which it, Lord have mercie on
thee for a hen, ſo my good window of Lattice fare thee
well, thy cafement I nee'd not open, for I looke through
the. Give me thy hand.

Par. My Lord, you give me moſt egregious indignity.

Laf.

All's Well that Ends Well.

Laf. I with all my heart, and thou art worthy of it.

Par. I have not my Lord deferv'd it.

Laf. Yes good faith, ev'ry dramme of it, and I will not bate thee a cruple.

Par. Well, I shall be wiser.

Laf. Ev'n as foone as thou canst, for thou haſt to pull a ſmacke a'th contrarie. If ever thou bee't bound in thy ſkarſe and beaten, thou haſt finde what it is to be proud of thy bondage, I have a defire to hold my acquainſtance with thee, or rather my knowledge, that I may lay in the default, he is a man I know.

Par. My Lord you do me moſt inſupportable vexation.

Laf. I would it were hell paines for thy ſake, and my poore doing eternal : for doing I am paſt, as I will by thee, in what motion age will giue me leave. Exit.

Par. Well, thou haſt a ſonne ſhall take this diſgrace off me; ſcuruy, old, filthy, ſcuruy Lord: Well, I muſt be patient, there is no fettering of authoritie. Ile beate him (by my life) if I can meete him with any convenience, and he were double and double a Lord. Ile have no more pittie of his age then. I would have of —— Ile beate him, and if I could but meet him agen.

### Enter Lafaw.

Laf. Sirra, your Lord and Maſter's married, there's newes for you: you have a new Miftris.

Par. I moſt unfainedly beſeech your Lordſhippe to make ſome reſervation of your wrongs. He is my good Lord, whom I ferue above is my Maſter.

Laf. Who? God.

Par. I ſir.

Laf. The divell it is, that's thy maſter. Why dooeſt thou garter up thy armes a this ſashion? Doth make hofe of thy ſleeves? Do other ſervants ſo? Thou wert beſt fet thy lower part where thy noſe ſtands. By mine Honour, if I were but two hours yonger, I'de beate thee : meem think it thou art a generall ſoffence, and every man ſhould beate thee : I thinke thou waſt created for men to breathe themſelves upon thee.

Par. This is hard and undeferved meaſure my Lord.

Laf. Go to ſir, you were beaten in Italy for picking a kernell out of a Pomgranat, you are a vagabond, and no true traveller : you are more ſawcie with Lordsand honourable perſonages, then the Commiſſion of your birth and vertue gives you Heraldry. You are not worth another word, eſſe I'de call you knave. I leave you. Exit.

### Enter Count Roffillion.

Par. Good, very good, it is ſo then : good, very good, let it be conceal'd awfully.

Rof. Vndone, and forſeited to cares for ever.

Par. What's the matter ſweet-heart ?

Roff. Although before the ſolemne Priſet I have ſworne, I will not bed her.

Par. What ? what ſweet heart?

Rof. O my Parroſles, they have married me : Ile to the Tuſcan warres, and never bed her.

Par. France is a dog-hole, and it no more merits, the tread of a mans foot : too' th' warres.

Rof. There's letters from my mother: What th' import is, I know not yet.

Par. I that would be knowne : too' th' warres my boy, too' th' warres :

He weares his honour in a boxe unſeene,
That hugges his kickſie wickſie here at home,
Spending his manlie marrow in her armes
Which iould tuſtaine the bound and high curſe
Of Marſes fierie ſeed : to other Regions,
France is a ſtble, we that dwell int' lades,
Therefore too' th' warre.

Rof. It shall be ſo, Ile ſend her to my house,
Acquaint my mother with my hate to her,
And wherefore I am fled: Write to the King,
That which I durſt not ſpeake. His preſent gift
Shall furniſh me to thole Italian fields

Where noble ſellowes ſtrike: Warre is no ſtrife
To the darke honſe, and the detected wife.

Par. Will this Caprichio hold in thee, art ſure?

Rof. Go with me to my chamber, and adſive me.
Ile ſend her ſtraight away : To morrow,
Ile to the warres, ſhe to her ſingle ſorrow.

Par. Why theſe bals bound, ther's noſe in it. Tis hard A young man married, is a man that's mard:

Therefore away, and leave her bravely: go,

The King ha's done you wrong: but huff't is ſo,

Exit.

### Enter Helena and Clowne.

Hel. My mother greets me kindly, is ſhe well?

Clo. She is not well, but yet ſhe has her health, ſhe's very merrie, but yet ſhe is not well : but thankes be given ſhe's very well, and wants nothing i'th world : but yet ſhe is not well.

Hel. If ſhe be very well, what do's ſhe ayle, that ſhe's not very well ?

Clo. Truly ſhe's very well indeed, but for two things.

Hel. What tw o things?

Clo. One that ſhe is not in heaven, whither God ſend her quickly : the other, that ſhe's in earth, from whence God ſend her quickly.

### Enter Parolles.

Par. Bleſſe you my fortunate Ladie.

Hel. I hope fir I have your good will to have mine owne good fortune.

Par. You had my prayers to leade them on, and to keepe them on, have them full. O my knaue, how do's my old Ladie?

Clo. So that you had her wrinkles and I her money, I would ſhe did as you ſay.

Par. Why I ſay nothing.

Clo. Marry you are the wiser man : for many a mans tongue ſhakes out his maſters undoing : to ſay nothing, to do nothing, to know nothing, and to have nothing, is to be a great part of your title, which is within a very little of nothing.

Par. Away, th' art a knaue.

Clo. You should have ſayd fir before a knaue, th' art a knaue, that's before me th' art a knaue : this had beene truth fir.

Par. Go to, thou art a wittie foole, I have found thee.

Clo. Did you finde me in your ſelfe fir, or were you taught to finde me?

Rof. The ſearch fir was profitable, and much Foole may you find in you, even to the worlds pleasure, and the encreaſe of laughter.

Par. A good knaue iſaith, and well ſed.
Madam, my Lord will go away to night,

A

All's Well that ends well.

240

A verie ferrous bufineſſe call's on him :

The great prerogative and rite of love,

Which as your due time claimes, he do'sacknowledge,
But puts it off to a compell'd reſtraint:

Whofe want, and whofe delay, is ſtrew'd with Sweets
Which they diſtill now in the curbed time,

To make the comming houre oreflow with joy,

And pleafure droune the brim.

Hel. What's his will elle ?

Par. That you will take your inſant leave a' th king,
And make this haſt as your owne good proceeding,

Strengthen'd with what Apologie you thinke
May make it probable ne'de.

Hel. What more commands hee ?

Par. That having this obtain'd, you prefently

Attend his further pleafure.

Hel. In every thing I waite upon his will.

Par. I ſhall report it ſo.

Hell. I pray you come firrah.

Exit Par.

Exit.

### Enter Lafew and Bertrams.

Laf. But I hope your Lordshippe thinkes not him a
ſouldier.

Ber. Yes my Lord, and of verie valiant approoffe.

Laf. You have it from his owne deliverance.

Ber. And by other warranted telfimonie.

Laf. Then my Diall goes not true, I tooke this Larke
for a bunting.

Ber. I do affure you my Lord, he is very great in know-
ledge, and accordingly valiant.

Laf. I have then fin'd againſt his experience, and
transſeft againſt his valour, and my ſlate that way is dan-
gerous, ſince I cannot find in my hart to repent : Heere
he comes, I pray you make us friends, I will purſue the
amitie.

### Enter Parolles.

Par. Theſe things ſhall be done fir.

Laf. Pray you fir who's his Tailor ?

Par. Sir ?

Laf. O I know him well, I fir, he fir's a good worke-
man, a very good Tailor.

Ber. Is ſhe gone to the king?

Par. ſhee is.

Ber. Will ſhe away to night ?

Par. As you'le have her.

Ber. I have writ my letters, casketed my treafure;
Given order for our horſe, and to night,
When I ſhould take poſſeſſion of the Bride,
And ere I do begin.

Laf. A good travailer is ſome thing at the latter end of
a dinner, but on that lies three thirds, and uſes a knowne
truth to paffa a thouſand nothings with, ſhould be once
heard, and thrice beaten. God fave your Captaine.

Ber. Is there any unkindneſſe betweene my Lord and
you Monſieur ?

Par. I know not how I have deferved to run into my
Lords diſpleasure.

Laf. You have made ſhift to run into't, bootes and
ſpurres and all : like him that leapes into the Cuſtard, and
out of it you'le runne againe, rather then ſuffer queſtion
for your residence.

Ber. It may be you have miſtaken him my Lord.

Laf. And ſhall doe ſo ever, though I tooke him at's
prayers. Fare you well my Lord, and beleeve this of

me, there can be no kernell in this light Nut: the foule
of this man is his cloathes: Truſt him not in matter of
heavie conſequence: I have kept of them tame, and know
their natures. Farewell Monſieur, I have ſpoken better
of you, then you have or will deferve at my hand, but we
muſt do good againſt evill:

Par. An idle Lord, I ſware.

Ber. I thinke ſo.

Par. Why do you not know him ?

Ber. Yes, I do know him well, and common ſpeech
Gives him a worthy paffe. Here comes my clog.

### Enter Helena.

Hel. I have fir as I was commanded from you
Spoke with the King, and have procur'd his leave
For prefent parting, only he defines
Some private ſpeech with you.

Ber. I ſhall obay his will.

You muſt muſt not mervaile Helen at my courſe,
Which holds not colour with the time, nor does
The miniftration, and required office
On my particular. Prepar'd I was not
Foruch a buſineſſe, therefore am I found

So much unſetled: This drives me to intreat you,
That prefently you take your way for home,
And rather muſe then aske why I intreat you,
For my reſpects are better then they ſee me,
And my appointments have in them a neede
Greater then ſhewes it ſelfe at the firſt view,
To you that know them not. This to my mother,
'Twill be two daies ere I ſhall ſee you, ſo
I leave you to your wifedome.

Hel. Sir, I can nothing ſay,

But that I am your moſt obedient ſervant.

Ber. Come, come, no more of that.

Hel. And ever ſhall

With true obſervance ſeeke to eefe out that
Wherein toward me my homely ſtarres have ſaide
To equal my great fortune.

Ber. Lett that goe: my haſte is very great, Farewell:
Hie home.

Hel. Pray fir your Pardon.

Ber. Well, what would you ſay ?

Hel. I am not worthy of the wealth I owe,
Nor dare I ſay 'tis mine: and yet it is,
But like a timorous theſe, moſt faine would ſteale
What law does vouch mine owne.

Ber. What would you have ?

Hel. Something, and ſcarſe ſo much: nothing indeed,
I would not tell you what I would my Lord: Faith yes,
Strangers and foes doe ſunder, and not kiffe.

Ber. I pray you ſay not, but in haſt to horſe,

Hel. I ſhall not brake your bidding, good my Lord:
Where are my other men? Monſieur: farewell. Exit.

Ber. Go thou toward home, where I will never come,
Whil't I can ſhake my ſword, or heare the drumme:
A way, and for our flight.

Par. Bravely, Coragio.

## Actus Tertius.

Flourish. Enter the Duke of Florence, the two Frenchmen
with a troop, of Souldiers.

Duke. So that from point to point, now have you heard
The

All's Well that ends Well.

The fundamentall reafons of this warre,
Whose great decision hath much blood let forth
And more thirfts after.

1. Lord. Holy feemes the quarrell
Vpon your Graces part : blacke and fearfull
On the oppofer.

Duk. Therefore we mervale much our Cofin France
Would in so just a bufineſſe, ſhut his boſome
Against our borrowing prayers.

French E. Good my Lord,
The reaſons of our ſtate I cannot yelde,
But like a common and an outward man,
That the great figure of a Counſaile frames,
By ſelfe unable motion, therefore dare not
Say what I thinke of it, ſince I have found
My ſelfe in my incertaine grounds to ſaile
As often as I gueſt.

Dn. Be it his pleafure.

Frg. G. But I am ſure the yonger of our nature,
That ſurſet on their cafe, will day by day
Come here for Phyſicke.

Dn. Welcome ſhall they bee:
And all the honors that can flye from us,
Shall on them tettle: you know your places well,
When better fall, for your availes they fell.
To morrow to the field.

Enter Counteſſe and Clewne.

Count. It hath happen'd all, as I would have had it, ſave
that he comes not along with her.

Clo. By my troth I take my young Lord to be a very
melancholly man.

Con. By what obſervance I pray you?

Clo. Why he will looke upon his boote, and ſing; mend
the Ruffe and ſing, aske queſtions and ſing, pикe his
teeth, and ſing: I know a man that had this ericke of me-
lancholy hold a goodly Mannor for a ſong.

Lad. Let me fee what he writes, and when he meanes
to come.

Clo. I have no mind to Isbell ſince I was at Court. Our old Ling and our Isbels a'th Country, are nothing like your old Ling & your Isbels a'th Court: the brains of my Cupid's knock'd out, and I beginne to love, as an old man loves money, with no ſtomacke.

Lad. What have we here?

Clo. In that have you there.

Exit.

A Letter.

I have ſent you a daughter-in- Law, ſhe hath recovered the
King, and vndone me : I have wedded her, not bedded her, and
ſworne to make the not eternall. You ſhall beare I am runne a-
way, know it before the report come. If there be bredth enough
in the world, I will hold a long diſtance. My duty to you.

Your unfortunate ſonne,
Bertram.

This is not well (raſh and vnbridled boys.)
To flye the favours of ſo good a King,
To plucke his indignation on thy head,
By the mitprifing of a Maide too vertuous
For the contempt of Empire.

Enter Clowne.

Clo. O Madam, yonder is heavy newes within between
two ſoldiers, and my yong Lady.

La. What is the matter.

Clo. Nay there is ſome comfort in the newes, ſome
comfort, your ſonne wil not be kild ſo ſoon as I thought
he would.

La. Why ſhould he be kill'd?

Clo. So ſay I Madame, if he runne away, as I heare he
does, the danger is in ſtanding too', that's the loſſe of
men, though it be the getting of children. Heere they
come will tell you more. For my part I onely heare your
ſonne was run away.

Enter Bellen and two Gentlemen..

French E. Save you good Madam.

Hel. Madam, my Lord is gone, for ever gone.

Fren. G. Do not ſay so.

La. Thinke upon patience, pray you Gentlemen,
I have felt ſo many quirks of joy and greeſe,
That the firſt face of neither on the ſtart

Can woman me vntoo't. Where is my ſonne I pray you?

Fren. G. Madam he's gone to ſerve the Duke of Flo-
rence,

We met him thitherward, for thence we came:

And after ſome diſpatch in hand at Court,
Thither we bend againe.

Hel. Looke on his Letter Madam, here's my Pafport.

When thou canſt get the Ring upon my ſinger, which never ſhall
come off, and ſhow me a childe begotten of thy body, that I am
father to, then call me husband: but in ſuch a (then) I write a
Never.

This is a dreadful ſentence.

La. Brought you this Letter Gentlemen?

1. G. I Madam, and for the Contents ſake are ſorty for
our paines.

Old La. I prethee Lady have a better cheere,
If thou engroſſet, all the greeſes are thine,
Thou robit me of a moity: He was my ſonne,
But I do waſh his name out of my blood,
And thou art all my childe. Towards Florence is he?

Fren. G. I Madam.

La. And to be a ſouldie!

Fren. G. Such is his noble purpofe, and beleev't

The Duke will lay upon him all the honor
That good convenience claims me.

La. Returne you thither?

Fren. E. I Madam, with the ſwiftſte wing of ſpeed.

Hel. Till I have no wife, I have nothing in France.

'Tis better.

La. Finde you that there?

Hel. I Madam.

Fren. E. 'Tis but the boldnes of his hand happily, which
his heart was not confentning too.

Lad. Nothing in France, untill he have no wife:
There's nothing here that is too good for him
But only ſhe, and ſhe deferves a Lord

That twenty ſuch rude boyes might tend upon,
And call her hourly Miftris. Who was with him?

Fren. E. A fervant onely, and a Gentleman : which I
have ſometime knowne.

La. Parolles was it not?

Fren. E. I my good Lady, hee.

La. A very tainted fellow, and full of wickedneſſe,
My ſonne corrupts a well derived nature
With his inducement.

Fren. E. Indeed good Lady the fellow has a deale of
that, too much, which holds him much to have.

La. Yare welcome Gentlemen, I will intreate you
when you fee my ſonne, to tell him that his ſword can
never winne the honor that he loofes: more I intreate

X

you

242

All's well that Ends well.

you written to beare along.

Fren. G. We serve you Madam in that and all your worthie affaires.

La. Not so, but as we change our courtesies,
Will you draw neere?

Exit.

Hel. Till I have no wife I have nothing in France.

Nothing in France untill he has no wife:
Thou fhalt have none Roffijon none in France,
Then haft thou all againe:poore Lord, is't I
That chafe thee from thy Countrie, and expofe
Thofe tender limbes of thine, to the event
Of the none-fparing warre? And is it I,
That drive thee from the ſportive Court, where thou
Was't ſhot at with faire eyes, to be the matke
Of ſmoakie Muskets? O you leaden meſſengers,
That ride upon the violent ſpeede of fire,
Fly with falſe ayme, move the ſtill-piercing aire
That flings with piercing, do not touch my Lord:
Who ever shoots at him, I fet him there.
Who ever charges on his forward breſt,
I am the Caitiffe that do hold him too't,
And though I kill him not, I am the cauſe
His death was ſo effected: Better'twere
I met the ravine Lyon when he roar'd
With farpe conſtraint of hunger: better'twere,
That all the miſeries which nature owes
Were mine at once. No come thou home Roffijon,
Whence honor but of danger winnes a farre,
As oft it loofes all. I will be gone:
My being heere it is, that holds thee hence,
Shall I ſay heere to doo't? No, no, although
The ayre of Paradife did fan the houſe,
And Angels offic'd all: I will be gone,
That pittifull rumour may report my flight
To confolatethine eare. Come night, end day,
For with the darke (poore theefe) Ile ſteale away.

Exit.

Flourish. Enter the Duke of Florence, Roffijon, drum and trumpets, soldiers, Parroles.

Duke. The Generall of our horſe thou art, and we
Great in our hope, lay our beſt love and eredence
Vpon thy promiſing fortune.

Ber. Sir it is

A charge too heavy for my ſtrength, but
Wee'l ſ Drive to beare it for your worthy ſake,
To th' extreme edge of hazard.

Du. Then go thou forth,
And fortune play upon thy proſperous helme
As thy auſpicious mitris.
Ber. This very day
Great Mars I put my ſelfe into thy ſile,
Make me but like my thoughts, and I ſhall prove
A lover of thy drumme, hater of love.

Exeunt omnes

Enter Countesse & Steward.

La. Alas! and would you take the letter of her:
Might you not know ſhe would do, as ſhe has done,
By fending me a Letter. Reade it agen.

Letter.

I am S. Iaques Pilgrim, thisither gone:
Ambitious love hath ſo in me offended,
That bare-foot plod I the cold ground upon
With ſaſtied vow my faults to have amended.

Write, write, that from the bloody course of warres,
My deereft Maiſer your deare ſonne may hie,
Bleſſe him at home in peace. Whilſt I from farre,
His name with zealous fervour ſanctifie:
His taken labours bid him me forgive:
I his deſpight full Juno ſent him ſorth,
From Courtly friends, with Camping ſues to live,
Where death and danger dogs the heeles of worth.
He is too good and faire for death, and me,
Whom I my ſelſe embrace, to fet him free.

Ah what farpe ſtings are in her mildeft words?
Ryardo, you did never lacke advice ſo much,
As letting her paffe ſo: had I ſpoke with her,
I could have well diverted her intents,
Which thus ſhe hath prevented.

Ste. Pardon me Madam,
If I had given you this at over-night,
She might have beene ore-tane: and yet ſhe writes
Purſuite would be but vaine.

La. What Angeil ſhall

Bleſſe this unworthy husband, he cannot thrive,
Vnleſſe her prayers, whom heaven delights to heare
And loves to grant, repreeve him from the wrath
Of greateſt Inſtice. Write, and write Rynaldo,
To this unworthy husband of his wife,
Let every word waigh heavy of her worth,
That he does waigh too light: my greateſt greeſe,
Though little he doe feele it, ſet downe ſharply.
Difpatch the moſt convenient meſſenger,
When haply he ſhall heare that ſhe is gone,
He will returne, and hope I may that ſhee
Hearing ſo much, will ſpeed her ſoote againe,
Led hither by pure love: which of them both
Is deereſt to me, I have no skill in ſence
To make diſtinction: provide this Meſſenger:
My heart is heavy, and mine age is weake,
Greeſe would have teares, and ſorrow bids me ſpeake.

Exeunt.

A Tucket of ſarre off.

Enter old Widdow of Florence, her daughter, Volentia and Mariana, with other Citizens.

Widdow. Nay come,
For if they do approach the City,
We ſhall loofe all the fight.

Dia. They ſay, the French Count has done
Moſt honourable ſervice.

Wid. It is reported,
That he has taken their greatr ſt Commander,
And that with his owne hand he flew
The Dukes brother : we have loft our labour,
They are gone a contrary way: harke,
You may know by their Trumpets.

Maria. Come lets returne againe,
And ſuſſice our ſelves with the report of it.
Well Diana, take heed of this French Earle,
The honor of a Maide is her name,
And no Legacie is ſo rich
As honeſty.

Wid. I have told my neighbour
How you have beene ſelicited by a Gentleman
His Companion.

Maria

All's Well that ends Well.

Maria. I know that knave, hang him, one Parrolles a filthy Officer he is in those fuffegitions for the young Earle, beware of them Diana; their promifes, entifyments, cathes, tokens, and all these engines of luff, are not the things they go under: many a maide hath beene reduced by them, and the mifery is example, that fo terrible fewes in the wracke of maiden-hood, cannot for all that diffwade succeffion, but that they are limed with the twigges that threatens them. I hope I neede not to advife you further, but I hope your owne grace will keepe you where you are, though there were no further danger knowne, but the modeftie which is fo loft.

Dia. You shall not neede to feare me.

Enter Hellen.

Wid. I hope so: looke here comes a pilgrim, I know
she will lye at my houfe, thither they tend one another,
lie quiefition her. God fave you pilgrim, whither are you
bound?

Hel. To S. Iaques la grand.

Where do the Palmers lodge, I do befeech you?

Wid. At the S. Francis heere befide the Port.

Hel. Is this the way?

A march of farre.

Wid. I marry lift. Harke you, they come this way:

If you will tarry holy Pilgrime.

But till the the troops come by,

I will conduct you where you shall be lodg'd,

The rather for I thinke I know your hofteſſe

A sample as my ſelfe.

Hel. Is it your ſelfe?

Wid. If you shall pleafe so Pilgrime.

Hel. I thanke you, and will stay upon your liffuere.

Wid. You came I thinke from France?

Hel. I did fo.

Wid. Heere you shall fee a Countriman of yours

That has done worthy ſervice.

Hel. His name I pray you?

Dia. The Count Roffijion: know you ſuch a one?

Bel. But by the eare that heares moſt nobly of him:

His face I know not.

Dia. What ſomere his is

He's bravely taken heere. He ſtole from France

As 'tis reported: for the King had married him

Againſt his liking. Thinke you it is fo?

Hel. I faireſt, more the truth, I know his Lady.

Dia. There is a Gentleman that ſerves the Count,
Reports but courſely of her.

Hel. What's his name?

Dia. Monfieur Parrolles.

Hel. Oh I believe with him,

In argument of praeſe, or to the worth

Of the great Count himſelfe, ſhe is too meane

To have her name repeated, all her deferving

Is a reſerved honeſtely, and that

I have not heard examin'd.

Dia. Alas, poore Lady,

Tisa hard bondage to becon e the wife
Of a dereſting Lord.

Wid. I right good creature, whereſoere ſhe is,
Her hart waighes fadly: this yong maid might do her
A fireſt turne if ſhe pleas'd.

Hel. How do you meane?

May be, the amorous Count ſelicites her
In the unlawful full purpose.

Wid. He does indeede,

And brokes with all that can in ſuch a ſuite

Corrupt the tender honour of a Maide:

But ſhe is arm'd for him, and keepeſ her guard
In honeſtẽſt defence.

Drumme and Colours.

Enter Count Roffijion, Parrolles, and the whole Army.

Mas. The goddesses forbid elfe.

Wid. So, now they come:

That is Antonio the Dukes eldeſt ſonne,
That Eca'tus.

Hel. Which is the Frenchman?

Dia. Hee,

That with the plume, 'tis a moſt gallant fellow,
I would he lov'd his wife: if he were honeſtely

He were much goodlier. Is't not a handſome Gentleman?

Hel. I like him well.

Dia. 'Tis pitty he is not honeſt: yonds that fame knave
That leades him to theſe places: were I his Lady,
I would poifon that vile Rafe call.

Hel. Which is he?

Dia. That lacke an-apes with ſcarſes. Why is he mé-
lancholly?

Hel. Perchance he s'hurt i'th battaile.

Par. Loofe our drum? Well.

Mar. He's firewldly vext at ſomething. Looke he has
ſpyed us.

Wid. Marry hang you.

Mar. And your curſeſſe, for a ring-carrier.

Exit.

VVid. The troupe is paſt: Come pilgrim, I will bring
You, Where you shall hoſt: Of injoyn'd penitents
There's foure or five, to great S. Iaques bound,
Already at my houſe.

Hel. I humbly thanke you:

Pleafe it this Matron, and this gentle Maide
To eate with us to night, the charge and thanking
Shall be for me, and to requite you further,
I will beſtow ſome precepts on this virgint,
Worthy the note.

Both. Wee'take your offer kindely.

Exemn.

Enter Count Roffijion and the Frenchmen,
as at firſt.

Cap. E. Nay good my Lord put him toot't: let him
have his way.

Cap. G. If your Lordſhip finde him not a Hilding,
hold me no more in your reſpect,

Cap. E. On my life my Loid a bubble.

Ber. Do you thinke I am ſo farre
Deceived in him?

Cap. E. Beleeve it my Lord, in mine owne direſt
knowledge, without any malice, but to ſpeake of him
as my kinfman, hee's a moſt notable Coward, an infi-
nite and endleſſe Lyar, an hourly promife-breaker, the
owner of no one good quality, worthy your Lordſhips
entertainment.

Cap. G. It were fit you knew him, leaſt reſoſing too
farre in his vertue which he hath not, he might at ſome
great and truſtie buſineſſe, in a maine daunger, ſayle
you.

Ber. I would I knew in what particular action to try
him.

Cap. G. None better then to let him fetch off his
drumme, which you heare him ſo confidently undertake to
do.

G. E. I with a troop of Florentines will fofainſtly fur-

prize.

X 2

All's Well that ends Well.

prize him; fuch I will have whom I am sure he knowes
not from the enemie: wee will binde and hoodwinke
him so, that he shall suppofe no other but that he is car-
ried into the Leager of the adverfaries, when we bring
him to our owne tents: bee but your Lordship prefent
at his examination, if he do not for the promife of his
life, and in the highest compulfion of bafe feare, offer to
betray you, and deliver all the intelligence in his power
against you, and that with the divine forfeite of his foule
upon oath, never truft my judgement in any thing.

Cap. G. O for the love of laughter, let him fetch his drumme, he fayes he has a flatragem for't: when your Lordship fees the bottome of this fucceffe int', and to what mettle this counterfeyt lump of ours will be mel- ted, if you give him not Iohn drummes entertainment, your inclining cannot be removed. Heere he comes.

Enter Parolles.

Cap. E. O for the love of laughter hinder not the hon-
nor of his defigne, let him fetch off his drumme in any
hand.

Ber. How now Monfieur ? This drumme fltcks fore-
ly in your diſpoſition.

Cap. G. A pox on't, let it go, 'tis but a drumme.

Par. But a drumme ! If but a drumme ? A drum fo
loft. There was excellent command, to charge in with
our horfe upon our owne wings, and to rend our owne
fouldiers.

Cap. G. That was not to be blam'd in the command
of the ſer vice: it was a diſafter of warre that Caſar him
ſelve could not have prevented, if he had beene there to
command.

Ber. Well, wee cannot greatly condemne our fucceſſe:
fome diſhonor wee had in the loffe of that drum, but it
not to be recovered.

Par. It might have beene recovered.

Ber. It might, but it is not now.

Par. It is to be recovered, but that the merit of ſer-
vice is ſildome attributed to the true and exaſt perfor-
mer, I would have that drumme or another, or his ja-
cet.

Ber. Why if you have a ſtomacke: too't, Monfieur: if
you thinke your myſterie in flatragem, can bring this
inſtrument of honour againe into his native quarter, bee
magnanimous in the enterprize and go on, I will grace
the attempt for a worthy exploit: if you ſpede well in
it, the Duke ſhall both ſpeake of it, and extend to you
what further becomes his greatneſſe, even to the vtmeſt
ſyllable of your worthin ſle.

Par. By the hand of a fouldier I will undertake it.

Ber. but you muſt not now flumber in it.

Par. Ile about it this evening, and I will prefently pen
downe my dilemma's, encourage my ſelfe in my certain-
ty, put my ſelfe into my mortall preparation: and by mid-
night looke to heare further from me.

Ber. May I bee bold to acquaint his grace you are gone about it.

Par. I know not what the ſucceſſe will be my Lord,
but the attempt I vow.

Ber. I know th'art valiant,
And to the poffibility of thy fouldierſhip,
Will ſubſcribe for thee: Farewell.

Par. I love not many words.

Exit.

Cap. E. No more then a fifth loves water. Is not this a ſtrange fellow my Lord, that ſo confidently ſeemes to

undertake this buſineſſe, which he knowes is not to bee
done, damnes himſelfe to do, & dares better be damnd,
then to doot.

Cap. G. You do not know him my Lord as wee do,
certaine it is that he will ſteale himſelfe into a mans fa-
vour, and for a weeke eſcape a great deale of diſcore-
ries, but when you finde him out, you have him ever af-
ter.

Ber. Why do you thinke hee will make no deedez
all of this that ſo feriouſly hee doeses addreſſe himſelfe
unto?

Cap. E. None in the world, but returne with an in-
vention, and clap upon you two or three probable liet
but wee have almost inboſt him, you ſhall fee his fal to
night ; for indeede hee is not for your Lordſhipps re-
ſpect.

Cap. G. Weele make you ſome ſport with the Fore
ere wee caſe him. He was ſuſt ſmoak'd by the old Lord
Lafow; when his diſguife and he is parted, tell me what
a ſprat you ſhall finde him, which you ſhall fee this very
night.

Cap. E. I muſt go looke my twigges,
He ſhall be caught.

Ber. Your brother he ſhall go along with me.

Cap. G. As't pleafe your Lordship, I'll leave you.

Ber. Now will I leade you to the houſe, and ſhew you
The Laffe I ſpoke of.

Cap. E. But you ſay ſh's honest.

Ber. That's all the fault: I ſpoke with him but once,
And found her wondrous cold, but I ſent to her
By this fame Coxcombe that we have i'th winde
Tokens and Letters, which he did reſend,
And this is all I have done: She's a faire creature,
Will you go fee her?

Cap. E. With all my heart my Lord.

Exeunt.

Enter Hellen, and Widdow.

Hel. If you miſdoubt me that I am not ſhee,
I know not how I ſhall affure you further,
But I ſhall looke the grounds I worke upon.

Wid. Though my eltate be falne, I was well borne,
Nothing acquainted with theſe buſineſſes,
And would not put my reputation now
In any ſtaining act.

Hel. Mor would I wifh you.
First give meuſt, the Count he my his husband,
And what to your ſworne count ſaile I have ſpoken,
Iſo from word to word: and then you cannot
By the good ayde that I of you ſhall borrow,
Erre in beſtowing it.

Wid. I should believe you,
For you have ſhew'd me that which well approves
Y'are great in fortune.

Hel. Take this purſe of Gold,
And let me buy your friendly helpe thus farre,
Which I will over-pay, and pay againe
When I have found it. The Count he wooes your
daughter,

Layes downe his wanton ſiedge before her beauty,
Reſolveth to carry her: let her in fine conſent
As weel direſt her how 'tis beſt to beare it:
Now his important blood will naught deny,
That ſhee'demand: a ring the County weares,
That downward hath ſucceded in his houſe
From ſonne to ſonne, ſome ſoure or five deſcents,

Since

All's Well that ends Well.

L. E. Go tell the Count Roffillion and my brother,
We have caught the woodcocke, and will keepe him
Till we do heare from them. (mufled

Sol. Captaine I will.

L. E. A will betray us all unto our selves,
Informe on that.

Soc. So I will fir.

L. E. Till then hee keepe him darke and safely lockt.

Exit.

Enter Bertram, and the Maid called
Diana.

Ber. They told me that your name was Fontybell.

Dia. No my good Lord, Diana.

Ber. Titled Goddeffe,

And worth it with addition : but faire foule,
In your fine frame hath love no quality?
If the quicke fire of youth light not your minde,
You are no Maiden but a monument:
When you are dead you should be such a one
As you are now: for you are cold and fterne,
And now you should be as your mother was
When your fweet selfe was got.

Dia. She then was honest.

Ber. So should you be.

Dia. No:

My mother did but duty, such (my Lord)

As you owe to your wife.

Ber. No more a'that:

I prethee do not ftrive againſt my vowes:
I was compell'd to her, but I love thee
By loves owne fweet conſtraint, and will for ever
Do thee all rights of ſeruice.

Dia. I fo you ſerve us

Till we ſerve you: But when you have our Rofes,
You barely leave our thornes to pricke our ſelves,
And mocke us with our bareneſſe.

Ber. How have I fworne.

Dia. 'Tis not the many oathes that make the truth,
But the plaine fingle vow, that is vow'd true:
What is not holy, that we ſware not by,
But take the high'ft to witneſſe: then pray you tell me,
If I should ſware by Loves great attribute,
I lov'd you deerely, would you beleeve my oathes,
When I did love you ill? This ha's no holding
To ſware by him whom I proteſt to love
That I will worke againſt him. Therefore your oathes
Are words and poore conditions, but unfeal'd
At leaſt in my opinion.

Ber. Change it, change it:

Be not so holy cruell: Love is holy,
And my integrity ne're knew the crafts

That you do charge men with: Stand no more off,
But give thy ſelfe unto my fique deſires,
Who then recovers. Say thou art mine, and ever
My love as it begins, ſhall be perfever.

Dia. I fee that men make rope's in ſuch a ſcarere,
That wee'l forſake our ſelves. Give me that Ring.

Ber. Ile lend it thee my deere, but have no power
To give it from me.

Dia. Will you not my Lord?

Ber. It is an honour longing to our houſe,
Bequeathed downe from many Anceſtors,
Which were the greateſt obloquy i'th world,
In me to loofe.

Dia. Mine Honors ſuch a Ring,
My chaſtities the Iewell of our houſe,

Bequeathed downe from many Anceſtors,
Which were the greateſt obloquie i'th world,
In me to loofe. Thus your owne proper wifedome
Brings in the Champion honor on my part,
Againſt your vaine affaſt.

Ber. Heere, take my Ring,
My houſe, mine honor, yea my life be thine,
And Ile be bid by thee.

Dia. When midnight comes, knocke at my chamber
window:

Ile order take, my mother ſhall not heare.
Now will I charge you in the band of truth,
When you have conquer'd my yet maids'n'-bed,
Remaine there but an houre, nor ſpeake to me:
My reaſons are moſt ſtrong, and you ſhall know them,
When backe againe this Ring shall be deliver'd:
And on your finger in the night, Ile put
Another Ring, that what in time proceeds,
May token to the future, our paſt deeds.
Adieu till then, then faile not : you have wonne
A wife of me, though there my hope be done.

Be. A heaven on earth I have won by wooing thee.

Di. For which, live long to thanke both heaven & me,
You may ſo in the end.

My mother told me juſt how he would woo,
As if the fate in's heart. She fayes, all men
Have the like oathes: He had fworne to marry me
When his wife's dead : therefore Ile lye with him
When I am buried. Since Frenchmen are ſo braide,
Marry that will, I live and die a Maid:

Onely in this diſguſe, I think't no ſinne,
To cofen him that would unjuſtly winne.

Exit.

Enter the two French Captaines, and some two or three
Souldiers.

Cap. G. You have not given him his mothers letter.

Cap. E. I have deliv'red it an houre ſince, there is ſom
thing in't that ſttings his nature : for on the reading it,
he chang'd almoſt into another man.

Cap. G. He has much worthy blame laid upon him,
for flaking off ſo good a wife, and ſo tweet a Lady.

Cap. E. Especially, hee hath incurred the everlaſing
difpleasure of the King, who had even tun'd his bounty
to ſing happineſſe to him. I will tell you a thing, but you
ſhall let it dwell darkly with you.

Cap. G. When you have ſpoken it'tis dead, and I am
the grave of it.

Cap. E. Hee hath peruerted a young Gentlewoman
here in Florence, of a moſt chaſte renown, and this night
he fleſhes his will in the ſpoyle of her honour : hee hath
given her his monumentall Ring, and thinkes himſele
made in the unchaſte compoſition.

Cap. G. Now God delay our rebellion as we are our
ſelves, what things are we.

Cap. E. Meereſly our owne traitours. And as in the
common courſe of all reaſons, we ſtill fee them reveale
them ſelves, till they attaine to their abhorrid ends: to he
that in this action contrives againſt his owne Nobility in
his proper ſtreame, ore-flowes himſelfe.

Cap. G. Is it not meant damnable in us, to be Trum-
peters of our unlaw ſull, intents ? We ſhall not then have
his company to night?

Cap. E. Not till after midnight: for hee is dieted to his
houre.

Cap. G. That approaches apace : I would gladly have
him fee his company anathomiz'd, that hee might take

All's Well that ends Well.

a measure of his owne judgements, wherein so curiously
he had fet this counterfeit.

Cap. E. We will not meddle with him till he come;
for his prefence must be the whip of the other.

Cap. G. In the meane time, what heare you of thofe
Warres?

Cap. E. I heare there is an overture of peace.

Cap. G. Nay, I aſſure you a peace concluded.

Cap. E. What will Count Roffiſon do then? Will he
travaile higher, or returne againe into France?

Cap. G. I perceive by this demand, you are not altoge-
ther of his councell.

Cap. E. Let it be forbid fir, ſo ſhould I be a great deale
of his aft.

Cap. G. Sir, his wife fome two months ſince fledde
from his houſe, her pretence is a pilgrimage to Saint Ia-
ques le grand; which holy undertaking, with moſt au-
ſtere ſanctimony ſhe accompliſh't: and there refiding, the
tenderneſſe of her Nature, became as a prey to her greeſe;
in fine; made a groane of her laſt breath, & now ſhe ſings
in heaven.

Cap. E. How is this juſtified?

Cap. G. The ſtronger part of it by her owne Letters,
which makes her ſtory true, even to the poynt of her
death: her death is ſelfe, which could not be her office
to ſay, is come: was faithfully confirm'd by the Reſtor
of the place.

Cap. E. Hath the Count all this intelligence?

Cap. G. I, and the particular confirmations, point from
point, to the full arming of the verity.

Cap. E. I am heartily ſorry that hee'l bee gladde of
this.

Cap. G. How mightily fometimes, we make us com-
forts of our loſſes.

Cap. E. And how mightily ſome other times, wee
drowne our gaine in teares, the great dignity that his
valour hath here acquir'd for him, ſhall at home be en-
countred with a ſhame as ample.

Cap. G. The webbe of our life, is of a mingled yarne,
good and ill together : our vertues would bee proud, if
our faults whipt them not, and our crimes would defpare
if they were not cheriſh'd by our vertues.

### Enter à Meſſenger.

How now? Where's your mailer?

Ser. He met the Duke in the street fir, of whom he
hath taken a ſolemne leave: his Lordſhip will next mor-
ning for France. The Duke hath offered him Letters of
commitments to the King.

Cap. E. They ſhall bee no more then needfull there, if
they were more then they can commend.

### Enter Count Roffiſion.

Ber. They cannot be too ſwete for the King's tart-
neſſe, here's his Lordſhip now. How now my Lord, it
not after midnight?

Ber. I have to night diſpatch'd ſixteene buſineſſes, a
moneths length a peecce, by an abſtraet of ſuceſſe: I have
congied with the Duke, done my adieu with his neereſt,
buried a wife, mor'n'd for her, writ to my Lady mother,
I am returning, entertain'd my Convoy, and betweene
theſe maine parcels of diſpatch, affected many nicer
needs: the laſt was the greatest, but that I have not en-
ded yet.

Cap. E. If the buſineſſe bee of any diſticulty, and this
morning your departure hence, it requires haſt of your

Lordſhip.

Ber. I meane the buſineſſe is not ended, as ſearing to
heare of it hereafter: but ſhall we have this dialogue bet-
weene the Foole and the Soldiour. Come, bring forth
this counterſet module; has deceiv'd mee, like a double-
meaning Propheſier.

Cap. E. Bring him forth, ha's ſate i'th ſtockes all night
poore gallant knave.

Ber. No matter, his heeles have deſerv'd it, in unſu-
ping his ſpurres ſo long. How does he carry himſelfe?

Cap. E. I have told your Lordſhip already: I he ſtockes
carrie him. But to anſwer you as you would be under
ſlood, he weepes like a wench that had ſhed her milk,
he hath conſeſt himſelfe to Morgan, whom hee ſuppoſes
to be a Friar, from the time of his remembrance to this
very infant diſafter of I is fetting i'th ſtockes: and what
thinke you he hath conſeſt?

Ber. Nothing of me, ha's a?

Cap. E. His conſeſſion is taken, and it ſhall be read to
his face, if your Lordſhip be in't, as I beleeve you are, you
muſt have the patience to heare it.

### Enter Parroſſes with his Interpreter.

Ber. A plague upon him, muſſeld; he can ſay nothing
of me: huff.

Cap. G. Hoodman comes: Portotartare offa.

Int. He calles for the tortures, what will you ſay with-
out em.

Par. I will conſeſſe what I know without conſtraint,
If ye pinch me like a Paſty, I can ſay no more.

Int. Bosko Chimurcho.

Cap. Boblibindo chievarmuurco.

Int. You are a merciful General: Our General bids
you anſwer to what I ſhall aske you out of a Note.

Par. And truly, as I hope to live.

Int. First demand of him, how many horſe the Duke
is ſtrong. What ſay you to that?

Par. Five or ſixe thouſand, but very weake and unſer-
viceable: the troops are all ſcattered, and the Comman-
ders very poore rogues, upon my reputation and credit,
and as I hope to live.

Int. Shali I ſet downe your anſwer for?

Ber. Do, Ile take the Sacrament on't, how and which
way you will: all's one to him.

Ber. What a paſt-laving ſlave is this?

Cap. G. Y'are deceiv'd my Lord: this is Monſieur Par-
rolles the gallant militarift, that was his owne phraſe, that
had the whole theorick of warre in the knot or his ſcarfe
and the præſtife in the chape of his dagger.

Cap. E. I will never truſt a man againe, for keeping his
ſword cleane, nor beleeve hee can have every thing in
him, by wearing his apparell neatly.

Int. Well, that's ſet downe.

Par. Five or ſix thouſand horſe I ſed, I will ſay true,
or thereabouts ſet downe, for I ſpeake truth.

Cap. G. He's very neere the truth in this.

Ber. But I con him no thanks for't in the nature hee
delivers it.

Par. Poore rogues, I pray you ſay.

Int. Well, that's ſet downe.

Par. I humbly thanke you fir, a truth's a truth, the
Rogues are marvailous poore.

Int. Demaund of him of what ſtrength they are a foot.
What ſay you to that?

Par. By my troth fir, if I were to live this preſent
houre, I will tell true. Let me ſee, Spurio a hundred and
fifty.

All's Well that ends Well.

248

fifty, Sebastian so many, Corambus so many, Iaquas so many: Guiltian, Cosmo, Lodewicke, and Grati, two hundred fifty each: Mine owne Company, Christopher, Vannmond, Benisj, two hundred fifty each: so that the mutter file, rotten and found, upon my life amounts not to fifteene thoufand pole, half of the which, dare not shake the flow from off their Caffocks, leaft they shake themselves to peeces.

Ber. What shall be done to him?

Int. G. Nothing, but let him have thankes. Demand of him my conditions: and what credite I have with the Duke,

Int. Well that' fet downe: you shall demaund of him, whether one Captaine Dumaine be it h' Campe, a Frenchman: wh at his reputation is with the Duke, what his valour, honeſtly, and expertneſſe in warres: or whether he thinkes it were not poſſible with-wellwaighing fummes of gold to corrupt him to a revolt. What ſay you to this? What do you know of it?

Par. I beſeech you let me anſwer to the particular of the intergatories. Demand them ſingly.

Int. Do you know this Captaine Dumaine?

Par. I know him, a was a Botchers Prentize in Paris, from whence he was whipt for getting the Shrieves fool with childe, a dumbe innocent that could not ſay him nay.

Ber. Nay, by your leave hold your hands, though I know his brains are forſeite to the next tile that false.

Int. Well, is this Captaine in the Duke of Flores campe?

Par. Vpon my knowledge he is, and lowſe.

Par. G. Nay looke not to upon me: I shall heare of your Lord anon.

Int. What is his reputation with the Duke?

Par. The Duke knowes him for no other, but a poore Officer of mine, and writ to me this other day, to turne him out a'th band. I thinke I have his Letter in my pocket.

Int. Marry we'll ſearch.

Par. In good ſadneſſe I do not know, either it is there, or it is upon a file with the Dukes other Letters, in my Tent.

Int. Heere'tis, heere's a paper, shall I reade it to you?

Par. I do not know if it be it or no.

Ber. Our Interpreter do's it well.

Cap. G. Excellently.

Int. Dian, the Counts a foole, and full of gold.

Par. That is not the Dukes letter fir: that is an adverſitement to a proper made in Florence, one Diana, to take heede of the allurement of one Count Roffillion, a fooſtli idie boy: but for all that very ruttiſh. I pray you fir put it up againe.

Int. Nay, Ile reade it firſt by your favour.

Par. My meaning in't I proteſt was very honeſt in the behalfe of the maid: for I knew the young Count to be a dangerous and laſcivious boy, who is a whale to Virginity, and devours up all the fry it finds.

Ber. Darnable both-fides rogue.

Int. Let When he ſweares oaths, bid him drop gold, and take it.

After he cores, he never payes the ſcore.

Half the won is match well made, match and well make it.

He were payes after-debts, take it before.

And say a fouldier (Dian) told thee this.

Men are to mell with, boyes are not to kis.

For count of this, the Count a Foole I know it,
Who payes before, but not when he does owe it.

Thine as he vow'd to thee in thine eare,

Parolles.

Ber. He shall bee whipt through the Amy with this rime in's forehead.

Cap. E. This is your devoted friend fir, the manifold Linguift, and the army-potent ſouldier.

Ber. I could endure any thing before but a Cat, and he's a Cat to me.

Int. I perceive fir by your Generals lookes, wee shall be faine to hang you.

Par. My life fir in any cafe: Not that I am afraid to dye, but that my offences being many, I would repent the remainder of Nature. Let me live fir in a dungon, i'th flockes, or any where, so I may live.

Int. Wee'le fee what may bee done, so you confefſe freely: therefore once more to this Captaine Dumaine: you have anſwer'd to his reputation with the Duke, and to his valour. What is his honeſt?

Par. He will ſteale fir an Egge out of a Cloifter: for rapes and ravifhmeats he paralels Neſſus. Hee proſſeles not keeping of oaths, breaking em he is ſtronger then Hercules. He will ſye fir, with fuch volubility, that you would thinke truth were a foole: drunkenneſſe is his belt vertue, for he will be ſwine-drunke, and in his ſleepe he does little harme, ſave to his bed-cloathes about him: but they know his conditions, and lay him in ftraſ. I have but little more to ſay fir of his honeſtly, he ha's eve-rie thing that an honeſt man ſhould not have; what an honest man ſhould have, he has nothing.

Cap. G. I begin to love him for this.

Ber. For this deſcription of thine honeſty ? A pox upon him for me, he's more and more a Cat.

Int. What ſay you to his expertneſſe in warre?

Par. Faith fir, ha's led the drumme before the English Tragedians: to belie him I will not, and more of his fouldierſhip I know not, except in that Country, he had the honour to be the Officer at a place there called Milend, to inſtraſt for the doubling of files. I would doe the man what honour I can, but of this I am not certaine.

Cap. G. He bath out-villain'd villany so farre, that the raritie redeemes him.

Ber. A pox on him, he's a Cat ſtill.

Int. His qualities being at this poore price, I need not to aske you, if Gold will corrupt him to revolt.

Par. Sir, for a Cardecue he will fell the fee ſimple of his falvation, the inherance of it, and cut th'intaile from all remainders, and a perpetuall ſucceffion for it perpetually.

Int. What's his Brother, the other Captain Dumaine?

Cap. E. Why do's he aske him of me?

Int. What's he?

Par. Ene a Crowat'h fame neſt: not altogether fo great as the firſt in goodneſſe, but greater a great deale in evill. He excels his Brother for a coward, yet his Brother is reputed one of the beſt that is. In a retreace hee our-runnes any Lackey, marry in comming on, hee ha's the Cranpe.

Int. If your life be faved, will you undertake to betray the Florentine?

Par. I, and the Captaine of his horſe, Count Roffillion.

Int. Ile whisper with the Generall, and knowe his pleafure.

Par. Ile no more drumming, a plague of all drummes, only to ſeeme to deferve well, and to beguile the ſuppoſſation

All's Well that ends Well.

fition of that lafcious yong boy the Count, have I run
into this danger: yet who would have suspected an am-
bash where I was taken?

Int. There is no remedy fir, but you muft dye : the Generall fayes, you that have, so traitoroufly difcovered the fecrets of your army, and made fuch peſtiferous reports of men very nobly held, can serve the world for no hones ſu: therefore you muſt dye. Come heademan, off with his head.

Par. O Lord fir let me live, or let mee ſee my death.

Int. That shall you, and take your leave of all your friends:

So looke about you, know you any heeret?

Coun. Good morrow noble Captaine.

Lo. E. God bleſſe you Captaine Parolles.

Cap. G. God ſave you noble Captaine.

Lo. E. Captaine, what greeting will you to my Lord
Lafew? I am for France.

Cap. G. Good Captaine, will you give me a Copy of the fonnet you writ to Diana in behalfe of the Count Roffillion, and I were not a very Coward, I'd compell it of you, but fare you well.

Exeunt.

Int. You are undone Captaine all but your ſcarfe, that has a knot on't yet.

Par. Who cannot be cruſh'd with a plot?

Int. If you could finde out a Country where but wo-
men were that had received so much ſhame, you might
begin an impudent Nation. Fare yee well fir, I am for
France too, we ſhall ſpeake of you there.

Exit.

Par. Yet am I thankful: if my heart were great
'Twould burſt at this: Captaine Ile be no more,
But I will cate, and drinke, and fleeep as ſoft
As Captaine shall. Simply the thing I am
Shall make me live: who knowes himſelfe a braggart
Let him ſeare this; for it will come to paffe,
That every braggart ſhall be found an Aſſe.
Ruft ſword, coole bluſhes, and Parroles live
Saſet in ſhame: being ſooly thrive,
There's place and meanes for every man alive.
Ile after them.

Enter Hellen, Widdow, and Diana.

Hel. That you may well perceive I have not
wrong'd you,

One of the greatelt in the Chriſtian world
Shall be my ſurety: fore whole throne 'tis needfull
Ere I can perfect mine intents, to kneele.
Time was I did him a defir'd office
Deere almoſt as his life, which gratitude
Through flinty Tartars boſome would peepe forth,
And anſwer thankes. I duly am inform'd,
His grace it Marſellis, to which place.

We have convenient convoy: you muſt know
I am ſuppofed dead, the Army breaking,
My husband bies him home, where heaven ayding,
And by the leave of my good Lord the King,
Wee'l be before our welcome.

Wid. Gentle Madam,
You never had a ſervant to whoſe truſt
Your buſines was more welcome.

Hel. Nor your Miftris

Ever a friend, whoſe thoughts more truly labour
To recompence your love: Doubt not but heaven
Hath brought me up to be your daughters dower,
As it hath fated her to be my motive

And helper to a husband. But O ſtranger men,
That can fuch ſweet ſuſe make of what they hate,
When ſawcy truſting of the cofin'd thoughts
Deſiles the pitchy night, ſo luſt doth play
With what it loathes, for that which is away,
But more of this hereafter: you Diana,
Vnder my poore inſtructions yet muſt ſuffer
Something in my behalfe.

Dia. Let death and honeſty

Go with your impoſitions, I am yours
Vpon your will to ſuffer.

Hel. Yet I pray you:

But with the world the time will bring on ſummer,
When Briars shall have leaves as well as thornes,
And be as fweet as harpe: we muſt away,
Our Wagon is prepar'd, and time revives us,
All's well that ends well, ſtill that fines the Crowne;
What ere the courſe, the end is the renowne.

Exeunt.

Enter Clowne, old Lady, and Lafew.

Laf. No, no, no, your ſonne was miſed with a ſnipt taffata fellow there, whoſe villanous ſaffron would have made all the unbak'd and dowy youth of a nation in his colour: your daughter - in-law had beene alive at this hour, and your ſonne heere at hom, more aduanc'd by the King, then by that red-tail'd humble Bee. I ſpeake of.

La. I would I had not knowne him, it was the death of the moſt vertuous gentlewoman, that ever Nature had præſe for creating. If ſhe had partaken of my fleſh and coſt mee the decreſt groanes of a mother, I could not have owed her a more rooted love.

La. Twas a good Lady, 'twas a good Lady. We may
pique a thousand ſallets ere wee light on ſuch another
hearbe.

Clo. Indeed fir ſhe was the ſweete Margerom of the
fallet, or rather the hearbe of grace.

Laf. They are not hearbes you knave, they are noſe-
hearbes.

Clo. I am no great Nabuchadnezar fir, I have not much
skill in grace.

La. Whether doest thou proſe thy ſelfe, a knave or
a ſoole?

Clo. A ſoole fir at a womans ſervice, and a knave at a
mans.

La. Your diſtinction.

Clo. I would couſen the man of this wife, and do his
ſervice.

La. So you were a knave at his ſervice indeed.

Clo. And I would give his wife my bauble fir to do her
ſervice.

La. I will ſubſcribe for thee, thou art both knave and
ſoole.

Clo. At your ſervice.

La. No, no, no.

Clo. Why fir, if I cannot ſerve you, I can ſerve as great
a prince as you are.

La. Whoſe that, a Frenchman?

Clo. Faith fir a has an English maine, but his filſomy
is more hotter in France then there.

La. What prince is that?

Clo. The blacke prince fir, alias the prince of darkeneſſe
alias the divell.

La. Hold thee, there's my purſe, I give thee not this to
fuggeſt thee from thy maſter: thou talk'st off, ſerve him
ſtill.

Cloa.

All's Well that ends Well.

252

Clo. I am a woodland fellow fir, that alwaies loved a great fire, and the maifter I fpeake of ever keeps a good fire, but fure he is the Prince of the world, let his Nobilitie remaine in's Court. I am for the houfe with the narrow gate, which I take to bee too little for pompe to enter: fome that humble themfelves may, but the manly will be too chill and tender, and theyle bee for the flowrie way that leads to the broad gate, and the great fire.

La. Go thy waies, I begin to bee a weary of thee and I tell thee so before, becaufe I would not fall out with thee. Go thy wayes, let my horſes be well look'd to, without any trickes.

Clo. If I put any trickes upon em fir, they ſhall bee Iades trickes, which are their owne right by the law of Nature. Exit.

Laf. A firewrd knave and an unhappy.

Lady. So a is. My Lord that's gone made himſelfe much ſport out of him, by his authority hee remaines heere, which he thinkes is a pattent for his fawcineſſe, and indeed he has no pace, but runnes where he will.

Laf. I like him well, 'tis not amiffie; and I was about to tell you, ſince I heard of the good Ladies death, and that my Lord your ſonne was upon his returne home. I moved the King my maifter to ſpeake in the behalſe of my daughter, which in the minority of them both, his Majefty out of a ſelfe gracious remembrance did firſt propoſe, his Highneſſe hath promis'd me to doe it, and to ſtoppe up the diſpleafure he hath conceived againſt your ſonne, there is no firſter matter. How do's your Ladyſhip like it?

La. With very much content my Lord, and I wiſh it happily effected.

La. His Highneſſe comes poſt from Marſellis, of as able body as when he number'd thirty, a will be heere to morrow, or I am deceiv'd by him that in ſuch intelli-gence hath ſeldome fail'd.

La. Irejoyces me, that I hope I ſhall fee him ere I die. I have letters that my ſonne will be heere to night: I ſhal beſeech your Lordſhip to remaine with mee, till they meete together.

Laf. Madam, I was thinking with what Manners I might faſely be admitted.

La. You neede but pleade your honourable privilege.

La. Lady of that I have made a bold charter, but I thanke my God, it holds yet.

Enter Clowne.

Clo. O Madam, yonders my Lord your ſonne with a patch of veluet on's face, whether there be a ſcar under't or no, the Velvet knowes, but'tis a goodly patch of Velvet, his left cheeke is a cheeke of two pile and a halſe, but his right cheeke is worne bare.

La. A ſcarre nobly got:

Or a noble ſcarre, is a good liv'ry of honor, So belike is that.

Clo. But it is your carbinado'd face.

La. Let us go fee

Your ſonne I pray you, I long to talke With the yong noble ſouldier.

Clo. Faith there's a dozen of em, with delicate fine hats, and moſt courteous feathers, which bow the head, and nod at every man.

Exeunt.

Actus Quintus,

Enter Heken, Widdow, and Diana, with two Attendants.

Hel. But this exceeding poſting day and night, Muſt wear your ſpirits low, we cannot helpe it. But ſince you have made the daies and nights as one, To weare your gentle limbes in my affaires, Be bold you do ſo grow in my requitall, As nothing can unroote you. In happy time, Enter a gentle Aftranger.

This man may helpe me to his Majeftries care, If he would ſpend his power. God fave you firſt.

Gent. And you.

Hel. Sir, I have ſeene you in the Court of France.

Gent. I have beene ſometimes there.

Hel. I do preſume firſt, that you are not falne

From the report that goes upon your goodneſſe, And therefore goaded with moſt ſharpe occasions, Which lay nice manners by, I put you to

The uſe of your owne vertues, for the which I ſhall continue thankefull.

Gent. What's your will?

Hel. That it will pleafe you

To give this poore petition to the King, And ayde me with that ſtore of power you have

To come into his prefence.

Gen. The Kings not heere.

Hel. Not heere fir?

Gen. Not indeed,

He hence remov'd laſt night, and with more haſt Then is his uſe.

Wid. Lord how we looſe our paines.

Hel. All's well that ends well yet, Though time ſeeme fo adverſe, and meanes unſit: I do beſeech you, whither is he gone?

Gen. Marrie as I take it to Roffillion,

Withher I am going.

Hel. I do beſeech you fir,

Since you are like to fee the King before me, Commend the paper to his gracious hand, Which I preſume ſhall render you no blame,

But rather make you thanke your paines for it: I will come after you with what good ſpeede Our meanes will make us meanes.

Gent. This I do for you.

Hel. And you ſhall finde your ſelfe to be well thanke what e're falles more. We muſt to horſe againe, Go, go, provide.

Exeunt.

Enter Clowne and Parrelles.

Par. Good M. Lavatch give my Lord Lafew this letter, I have ere now firſ beene better knowne to you, when I have held familiaritie with freſher cloathes: but I am now firſ muddied in fortunes mood, and ſmell fomewhat ſtrong of her ſtrong diſpleaſure.

Col. Truely, Fortunes diſpleaſure is but ſluttiſh if it ſmell ſo ſtrongly as thou ſpeak'st of: I will henceforth eate no Fith of Fortunes butt'ring. Prethee allow the winde.

Par. Nay you neede not to ſtop your noſe fir: I ſpeake but by a Metaphor.

Clo. Indeed fir, if your Metaphor ſtinke, I will ſtop my noſe, or againſt any mans Metaphor. Prethee get thee further.

All's Well that ends Well.

Par. Pray you fir deliver me this paper.

Clo. Foh, prethee stand away a paper from fortunes
clofe-floole, to give to a Nobleman. Looke heere hee
comes himfelfe.

Enter Lafew.

Clo. Heree is a purre of Fortunes fir, or of Fortunes
Cat, but not a Muſcat; that ha's falne into the uncleane
ſih-pond of her diſpleafure, and as he ſayes is muddied
withall. Pray you fir, uſe the Carpe as you may, for hee
lookeſ like a poore decayed, ingenious, foolish, raſcally
knave. I do pittie his diſtreſſe in my ſmiles of comfort,
and leave him to your Lordſhip.

Par. My Lord, I am a man whom fortune hath cruelly
ſcratch'd.

Laf. And what would you have me to do? 'Tis too late
to paire her nailes now. Wherein have you played the
knave with fortune that he should ſcratch you, who of
her ſelfe is a good Lady, & would not have knaves thrine
long under her? There's a Cardcucie for you: Let the lu-
ſtices make you and fortune friends; I am for other bu-
ſineſſe.

Par. I beſeech your honour to heare mee one ſingle
word.

Laf. You begge a ſinglepeny more: Come you ſhall
haſ, ſave your word.

Par. My name my good Lord is Parolles.

Laf. You begge more then word then. Cox my paſ-
fion, give me your hand: How does your drumme?

Par. O my good Lord, you were the firſt that found mee.

Laf. Was I inſooth? And I was the firſt that loft thee.

Par. It lies in you my Lord to bring me in home grace
for you did bring me out.

Laf. Out upon the knave, doeſt thou put upon mee
at once both the office of God and the divel: one brings
thee in grace, and the other brings thee out. The King's
comming I know by his Trumpets. Sirrah, inquire fur-
ther after me, I had talle of you laſt night, though you
are a foole and a knave, you ſhall eate, go to, follow.

Par. I praeſe God for you.

Flourish. Enter King, old Lady, Lafew, the two French
Lords, with attendants.

Kin. We loft a Jewell of her, and our eſteeme
Was made much poorer by it: but your ſonne,
As mad in folly, lack'd the fence to know
Her eſtimation home.

Old La. 'Tis paſt my Liege,
And I beſeech your Majefty to make it
Naturall reſolution, done i'th blade of youth,
When oyle and fire, too ſtrong for reaſons force,
Ore-beares it, and burnes on.

Kin. My honour'd Lady,
I haue forgiven and forgotten all,
Though my revenges were high bent upon him,
And watch'd the time to ſhoore.

Laf. This I muſt ſay,
But firſt I begge my pardon: the yong Lord
Did to his Majefty, his Mother, and his Lady,
Offence of mighty note; but to himſelfe
The greatest wrong of all. He loft a wife,
Whofe beauty did aftonish the ſurvey
Of richeſt eyes: whoſe words all eares tooke captive,
Whofe deere perfection, hearts that ſcorn'd to ſerve,

Humbly call'd Miftris.

Kin. Praifing what is loſt,
Makes the remembrance deere. We ll call him hither,
We are reconcil'd, and the firſt view ſhall kill
All repetition: Let him not aske our pardon,
The nature of his great offence is dead,
And deeper then oblivion, we do burie
Th'incenſing reliques of it. Let him approach
A ſtranger, no offender; and informe him
So 'tis our will he ſhould

Gent. I ſhall my Liege.

Kin. What ſayes he to year daughter,
Have you ſpoke?

Laf. All that he is, hath reference to your Highnes.
Kin. Then, ſhall we have a match. I have letters ſent
me, that fets him high in fame.

Enter Count Bertram.

Laf. He lookes well on't.

Kin. I am not a day of ſeafon,
For thou maiſt fee a ſun-ſhine, and a haile
In me at once: But to the brighteſt beames
Diſtraſted clouds give way, ſo stand thou forth,
The time is faire againe.

Ber. My high repented blames
Deere Soveraigne pardon to me.

Kin. All is whole,
Not one word more of the ſonſumed time,
Let's take the inſtant by the forward top:
For we are old, and on our quick'ſt decrees
Th'inaudible, and noifeleſſe foot of time
Steales, ere we can effect them. You remember
The daughter of this Lord?
Ber. Admiringly my Liege, at firſt
I flucke my choice upon her, ere my heart
Durſt make too bold a herald of my tongue:
Where the impreſſion of mine eye enfixing,
Contempt his ſcornfull Perſpective did lend me,
Which warpt the line of every other favour,
Scorn'd a faire colour, or expreſt it ſtolne,
Extended or contracted all proportions
To a moſt hideous object. Thence it came
That ſhe whom all men prais'd, and whom my ſelfe,
Since I have loſt, have lov'd, was in mine eye
The daſt that did offend it.

Kin. Wel excus'd:
That thou didſt love her, ſtrikes ſome ſcores away
From the great compt: but love that comes too late,
Like a remorſe full pardon flowely carried
To the great ſender, turnes a ſowre offence,
Crying, that's good that's gone: Our rafh faults,
Make triuall price of ſerious things we have,
Not knowing them, untill we know their grave.
Oft our diſpleaſures to our ſelves unjuſt,
Deſtroy our friends, and after weepe their daſt:
Our owne love waking, cries to fee what's done,
While ſhamefull hate ſleepes out the afternoone.
Be this ſweet Helens knell, and now forget her.
Send forth your amorous token for faire Mandlin,
The maine confents are had, and heere wee'l ſay
To fee our widdowers ſecond marriage day:
Which better then the firſt, O deere heaven bleſſe,
Or, ere they meete in me, O Nature ceaſe.

Laf. Come on my ſonne, in whom my houſes name
Muſt be diſgeſted: give a favour from you
To ſparkle in the ſpirits of my daughter.

That

All's Well that ends Well.

That she may quickly come. By my old beard,
And ev'ry haire that's on't, Helen that's dead
Was a sweet creature; such a ring as this,
The laft that ere I tooke her leave at Court,
I faw upon her finger.

Ber. Hers it was not.

Kin. Now pray you let me fee it. For mine eye,
While I was speaking, oft was faften'd too't:
This Ring was mine, and when I gave it Hellen,
I bad her if her fortunes ever floode
Necesitied to helpe, that by this token
I would releeve her. Had you that craft to reave her
Of what should flead her mott?

Ber. My gracious Soveraigne,
How ere it pleafes you to take it so,
The ring was never hers.

Old La. Sonne, on my life

I have feene her weare it, and she reckon'd it
At her lives rate.

Laft. I am fure I faw her weare it.

Ber. You are deceiv'd my Lord, she never faw it:
In Florence was it from a cafement throwne mee,
Wrap'd in a paper, which contain'd the name
Of her that threw it: Noble she was, and thought
I ftood ingag'd, but when I had subferib'd
To mine owne fortune, and inform'd her fully,
I could not anfwer in that confre of Honour
As she had made the overture, the ceaft
In heavy satisfaction, and would never
Receive the Ring againe.

Kin. Platus himfelfe,

That knowes the tinſt and multiplying medicine,
Hath not in natures myſterie more ſcience,
Then I have in this Ring. 'Twas mine, 'twas Helens,
Who ever gave it you: then if you know
That you are well acquainted with your ſelfe,
Conſeſſe 'twas hers, and by what rough enforcement
You got it from her. She call'd the Saints to ſurety,
That the would never put it from her finger,
Vnleſſe ſhe gave it to you ſelfe in bed,
Where you have never come: or ſent it us
Vpon her great diſalter.

Ber. She never faw it.

Kin. Thou ſpeak'ft it falſely: as I love mine Honor,
And make it conjecturall ſeaues to come into me,
Which I would faine ſhut out, if it ſhould prove
That thou art to inhumane, 'twill not prove ſo.
And yet I know not, thou didſt hate her deadly,
And ſhe is dead, which nothing but to cloſe
Her eyes my ſelfe, could win me to beleeve,
More then to fee this Ring. Take him away,
My fore-paſt proofes, how ere the matter fall
Shal taxe my ſeaues of little vanity,
Having vainly fear'd too little. Away with him,
Wee'l ſift this matter further.

Ber. If you ſhall prove

This Ring was ever hers, you ſhall as eafie
Prove that I husbanded her bed in Florence,
Where yet ſhe never was.

Enter a Gentleman.

Kin. I am wrap'd in diſmall thinkings.

Gen. Gracious Soveraigne.

Whether I have beene too blame or no, I know not,
Here's a petition from a Florentine,
Who hath for foure or five removes come ſhort,
To tender it her ſelfe. I undertooke it,

Vanquifh'd thereto by the faire grace and ſpeech
Of the poore ſuppliant, who by this I know
Is heere attending: her bufinſſe lookes in her
With an importing ſiage, and ſhe told me
In a sweet verball breeſe, it did concerne
Your Highneſſe with her ſelfe.

A Letter.

Upon his many proteſtations to marry me when his wife was
dead, I bluſh to ſay it, be wonne me. Now is the Count Reſ-
ſiſſion a Widdower, his vowes are forfeited to mee, and my
honors payed to him. He ſtole from Florence, taking no leave,
and I follow him to his Cornrey for Inſtice: Grant it me, O
King, in you it beſt lies, otherwife a ſeducer flourisſes, and
a poore Maid is undone.

Diana Capilet,

Laf. I will buy me a ſonne in Law in a ſiare, and toſe
him for this. Ile none of him.

Kin. The heavens have thought well on thee Laſſon,
To bring forth this diſcour'y, ſeeke the ſeſtors:
Go ſpeedily, and bring againe the Count.

Enter Bertram.

I am a-feard the life of Hellen (Lady)
Was fowly ſnatcht.

Old La. Now juſtice on the doers.

Kin. I wonder fir, wives are ſuch monſters to you,
And that you flye them as you ſware them Lordſhip,
Yet you deſire to marry. What woman's that?

Enter Widdow, Diana, and Parrooles.

Dia. I am my Lord a wretched Florentine,
Derived from the ancient Capilet,
My ſuite, as I do understand, you know,
And therefore know how farre I may be pittied

Wid. I am her Mother fir, whose age and honour
Both ſuffer under this complaint we bring,
And both ſhall ceaſe, without your remedie.

Kin. Come hither Count, do you know the ſeſte Women?

Ber. My Lord, I neither can nor will denie,

But that I know them, do they charge me further?
Dia. Why do you looke ſo ſtrange upon your wife?

Ber. She's none of mine my Lord.

Dia. If you ſhall marrie

You give away this hand, and that is mine,
You give away heavens vowes, and thofe are mine:
You give away my ſelfe, which is knowne mine:
For I by vow am ſo embodied yours,
That ſhe which marries you, muſt marrie me,
Either both or none.

Laf. Your reputation comes too ſhort for my daugh-
ter, you are no husband for her.

Ber. My Lord, this is a fond and desperate creature,
Whom fometime I have laugh'd with: Let your highnes
Lay a more noble thought upon mine honour,
Then for to thinke that I would ſinke it heere.

Kin. Sir for my thoughts, you have them ill to friend,
Till your deeds gaine them fairer: prove your honor,
Then in my thought it lies.

Dian. Good my Lord,

Aske him upon his oath, if he do's thinke

He had not my virginity.

Kin. What fait thou to her?

Ber. She's impudent my Lord,
And was a common gameſter to the Campe.

Dia. He do's me wrong my Lord: If I were ſo,
He might have bought meat at a common price.

Do

["59", "The Tragedy of Coriolanus.", "This Ladies Husband heere; this (do you see)", "Whom you have banisht, does exceed you all.", "Brus. Well, well, wee’ll leave you.", "Sicin. Why stay you to be baited", "With one that wants her Wits.", "Exit Tribunes.", "Volum. Take my Prayers with you.", "I would the Gods had nothing else to do,\nBut to confirme my Curiſſes. Could I meete ’em\nBut once a day, it would unclogge my heart\nOf what lyes heavy too’t.", "Mene. You have told them home,", "And by my troth you have caufe: you’ll ſuppe with me.", "Volum. Angers my Meate: I ſuppe upon my ſelſe,", "And so ſhall tervie with Feeding: Come, let’s go,\nLeave this faint-puling, and lament as I do,", "In Anger, Juno-like: Come, come, come.", "Exeunt", "Mene. Fie, ſie, ſie.", "Exit.", "Enter a Roman, and a Volce.", "Rom. I know you well fir, and you know me: your name I thinke is Adrian.", "Volce. It is ſo fir, truly I have forgot you.", "Rom. I am a Roman, and my ſervices are as you are\nagainſt ’em. Know you me yet.", "Volce. Nicanor: no,", "Rom. The fame fir,", "Volce. You had more Beard when I laſt faw you, but\nyour Favour is well appear'd by your Tongue. What’s\nthe Newes in Rome: I have a Note from the Volcanic\nſtate to ſinde you out here. You have well ſaved mee a\ndayes journey.", "Rom. There hath beene in Rome ſtraunge Inſurrecți-\nons: the people, againſt the Senatours, Patricians, and\nNobles.", "Vol. Hath bin; is it ended then? Our ſtate thinks not\nſo, they are in a moſt warlike preparation, & hope to come\nupon them, in the heate of their divifion", "Rom. The maine blaze of it is paſt, but a ſmall thing\nwould make it flame againe. For the Nobles receive ſo\nto heart, the Banifhment of that worthy Coriolanus, that\nthey are in a ripe aptneſſe, to take all power from the peo-\nple, and to plucke from them their Tribunes for ever.\nThis lyes glowing I can tell you, and is almoſt mature for\nthe violent breaking out.", "Vol. Coriolanus Banisht?", "Rom. Banisht’d fir.", "Vol. You will be welcome with this intelligence Ni-\ncanor.", "Rom. The day ſerves well for them now. I have heard\nit faide, the ſitteſt time to corrupt a mans Wifc, is when\nſhee’s falne out with her Husband. Your Noble Trullus\nAnſſidius will appear ſwell in theſe Warres, his great\nOppofer Coriolanus being now in no requeſt of his coun-\ntrey.", "Volce. He cannot choofe: I am moſt fortunate, thus\naccidentally to encounter you. You have ended my Bu-\nſineſſe, and I will merrily accompany you home.", "Rom. I ſhall betweene this and Supper, tell you moſt\nſtrange things from Rome: all tending to the good of\ntheir Adverlaries. Have you an Army ready ſay you?", "Vol. A moſt Royall one. The Centurions, and their\ncharges diſtinctly billetted, already in th’ entertainment,\nand to be on foot at an houres warning.", "Rom. I am joyfull to heare of their readineſſe, and am\nthe man I thinke, that ſhall fet them in prefent Action. So\nfir, heartly well met, and moſt glad of your Company.", "Volce. You take my part from me fir, I have the moſt", "caufe to be glad of yours.", "Rom. Well let us go together.", "Exeunt.", "Enter Coriolanus in meane Apparel, Diſ-\nguſd, and mufſed.", "Corio. A goodly City is this Antium. Citty,\n*Tis I that made thy Widdowes: Mahy an heyre\nOf theſe faire Ediſtices for my Warres\nHave I heard groane, and drop: Then know me not,\nLeaſt that thy Wives with Spits, an Boyes with ſtones\nIn puny Battell ſlay me. Save you fir.", "Enter a Citizen.", "Cit. And you.", "Corio. Direct me, if it be your will, where great Anſ-\nfidius lies: Is he in Antium?", "Cit. He is and Feaſt the Nobles of the State, at his\nhouſe this night.", "Corio. Which is his houſe, beſeech you?", "Cit. This houſe before you.", "Corio. Thanke you fir, farewell.", "Exit Citizen.", "Oh World, thy flippy turnes! Friends now ſaſt ſworn,\nWhofe double boſomes ſeene were on heart,\nWhofe Houres, whoſe Bed, whoſe Meale and Exercife", "Are ſtill together: who Twine (as ’twere) in Love,\nVnſeparable, ſhall within this houſe,\nOn a diſſentration of a Doit, breake out", "To birterſt Enmity: So ſelleſt Foes,", "Whofe paſſions, and whoſe PLOTS have broke their ſleepe\nTo take the one the other, by ſome chance,", "Some tricke not worth an Egge, ſhall grow deere friends\nAnd inter-joyne their yſluſes. So with me,", "My Birth-lace have I, and my lover upon\nThis Enemie Towne Ile enter, if he ſlay me", "He does faire ſuſtice: if he give me way,\nIle do his Country ſervice,", "Exit.", "Muſſeke playes. Enter a ſervingman.", "1 Ser. Wine, Wine, Wine: What ſervice is heere? I\nthinke our Fellowes are a ſleepe.", "Enter another ſerving man.", "2 Ser. Where’s Cottus: my M. cals for him: Cottus. Exit.", "Enter Coriolanus.", "Corio. A goodly houſe:", "The Feaſt ſmels: but I appeare not like a Gueſt.", "Enter the firſt ſervingman.", "1. Ser. What would you have Friend whence are you?\nHere’s no place for you: Pray go to the doorre ? Exit.", "Corio. I have deferv’d no better entertainment, inbe-\ning Coriolanus.\n\nEnter ſecond Servant.", "2 Ser. Whence are you fir? Ha’s: the Porter his eyes in\nhis head, that he gives enterance to ſuch Companions?\nPray get you out.", "Corio. Away.", "2 Ser. Away? Get you away.", "Corio. Now th’ troubleſome.", "2 Ser. Are you ſo brave: Ile have you talkt with anon", "“ Enter 3. ſervingman, the 1 meets him.", "3 What Fellowes this?", "1 A ſtrange one as ever I look’d on: I cannot get him\nout o’ th’ houſe: Prythee call my Maſter to him.", "3 What have you to do here fellow ? Pray you avoid\nthe houſe.", "Corio. Let me but stand, I will not hurt your Harth.", "3 What are you.", "Corio. A Gentleman.", "3 A maru’llous poore one.", "Corio. True, ſo I am,", "3 Pray you poore Gentleman, take up ſome other ſta-\ntion,", "tion hee", "Cario.", "bits.", "3 W\nfrange\n2 A\n3 W\nCorio.\n3 V\nCorio.\n3 W\nCorio.\n3 I\nthen the\nCorio.\n3 H\nCorio.\nthy Mifh\ncher: I", "Corio.\nCorio.", "Corio.\nCorio.", "3 I\nthen the\nCorio.\n3 H\nCorio.", "Corio.\nCorio.", "Aſſ.", "2 H\ndiflurbi\nAſſ.", "Why ſp\nCorio.\nme, doſt\nmands\nAſſ.", "Corio.\nCorio.\nAſſ.", "Thou haſt\nBears a\nThou ſhi\nCorio.", "Aſſ.\nCorio.", "Thou haſt\nBears a\nThou ſhi\nCorio.", "Aſſ.\nCorio.", "Thou haſt\nBears a\nThou ſhi\nCorio.", "Aſſ.\nCorio.", "Thou haſt\nStand\nA heart\nThine of\nAnd ma\nThat n\nAs bene\nAgain\nOf all t\nThou haſt", "Thou haſt\nStand\n

The Tragedy of Coriolanus.

51

tion here's no place for you, pray you avoid : Come,
Corio. Follow your Function, go, and batten on colde
bits.
Pushe him away from him.

3 What you will not ? Prythee tell my Maſter what a
ſtrange Gueſt he ha's here.

2 And I ſhall.

Exit second Servingman.

3 Where dwel't thou ?

Corio. Vnder the Canopy.

3 Vnder the Canopy ?

Corio. I.

3 Where's that ?

Corio. I' th City of Kites and Crowes.

3 I' th City of Kites and Crowes. What an Aſſe it is,
then thou dwel't with Dawes too ?

Corio. No, I ſerve not thy Maſter.

3 How fir? Do you meddle with my Maſter ?

Corio. I, tis an honefter ſervice, then to meddle with
thy Miftris: Thou prat't, and prat't, ſerve with thy tren-
cher : Hence.
Beates him away

Enter Aſſidius with the Servingman.

Aſſ. Where is this Fellow ?

2 Here fir, I'd have beaten him like a dogge, but for
diluſing the Lords within.

Aſſ. Whence com't thou? What woldt'st? Thy name?
Why ſpeak't not? Speake man: what's thy name?

Corio. If Tullus not yet thou know't me, and feeing
me, doſt not thinke me for the man I am, neceſſitie com-
mands me name my ſelſe.

Aſſ. What is thy name ?

Corio. A name unmuſicall to the Volcians cares,
And harth in found to thine,

Aſſ. Say, w'hat's thy name ?

Thou haſt a Grim appearance, and thy Face
Bears a Commanne in't: Though thy Tackles torne,
Thou ſhew't a noble Veffell: What's thy name?
Corio. Prepare thy brow to frowne: know't y me yet?
Aſſ. I know thee not? Thy Name?

Corio. My name is Caius Matius, who hath done
To thee particularly, and to all the Volces
Great hurt and Milchieſe: thereto wittneſſe may
My Surname Coriolanus. The paineſull Service,
The extreme Dangers, and the droppe of Blood
Shed for thy thanſeſſe Country are requitted :
But with that Surname, a good memorie
And wittneſſe of the Malice and Difpleasure
Which thou could't beare me, only that name remaines,
The Cruelty and Envy of the people.

Permitted by our daſtard Nobles, who
Have all forſooke me, haſh devour'd the reſt:
And ſuffer'd me by th' voyce of Slaves to be
Hoop'd out of Rome. Now this extremity,
Hath brought me to thy Harth, not our of hope
(Miſtake me not) to ſave my life: for if
I had fear'd death, of all the Men i' th' World
I would have voided thee. But in meere ſpight
To be full quit of thofe my baniſhers,
Stand I before thee here: Then if thon haſt
A heart of wreak in thee, that wilt revenge.
Thine owne particular wrongs, and ſtop thofe maimes
Of ſhame ſeene through thy Country, iſped thee ſtraight
And make my miſery ſerve thy turne: So ſe it,
That my revenge ſull ſerviſes may prove
As benefits to thee. For I will fight
Against my Cankred Country, with the ſpleene.
Of all the under Fiends. But if so be,
Thou dar't not this and that to prove more Fortunes

Th' art tyr'd, then in a word, I alſo am
Longer to live moſt wearie: and preſent
My throat to thee, and to thy Ancient Malice :
Which not to cut, would ſhew thee but a Foole,
Since I have ever followed thee with hate,
Drawne Tunnes of Blood out of thy Countr ies breſt,
And cannot live but to thy ſhame, unlieſe
It be to doe thee ſervice.

Auf. Oh Martius, Martius,
Each word thou haſt ſpoke, hath weeded from my heart
A rooſe of Ancient Envy. If Iupiter
Should from yond clowd ſpeake divine things;
And ſay 'tis true; I'd not beleeve them more
Then thee all-Noble Martius. Let me twine
Mine armes about that body, where againſt
My grained Aſh an hundred times hath broke,
And Icar'd the Moone with ſplinters: heere I cleep
The Anvile of my Sword, and do contelt
As hotly, and as Nobly with thy Love,
As ever in Ambitious ſtrength, I did
Contend againſt thy Valour. Know thou firſt,
Ilov'd the Maid I married : never man
Sigh'd truer breath. But that I fee thee heere
Thou Noble thing, more dances my rapt heart,
Then when I firſt my wedded Miftris law
Befrid my Threſhold. Why, thou Mars I tell thee,
We have a Power on ſoore: and I had purpofe
Once more to hew thy Target from thy Brawne,
Or loofe mine Arme for': Thou haſt beare me out
Twelve feverall times, and I have nightly ſince
Dreamt of encounters' twixt thy ſelſe and me :
We have breaſe downe together in my ſleepe,
Vnbuckling Helmes, fitting each others Throat,
And wak'd halſe dead with nothing. Worthy Marcians
Had we no other quarrell ſelſe to Rome, but that
Thou art thence Banifh'd, we would muſter all
From twelve, to ſeventie: and powring Warre
Into the bowels of ungratefull Rome,
Like a bold Flood o're-beate. Oh come, go in,
And take our Friendly Senators by 'th' hands
Who now are heere, taking their leaves of me,
Who am prepar'd againſt your Territories,
Though not for Rome it ſelſe.

Auf. You bleſſe me Gods.
Aſſ. Therefore moſt absolute Sir, if thou wilt have
The leading of thine owne Revenges, take
Th' one halſe of my Commiſſion, and ſet downe
As beſt thou art experienc'd, ſince thou know't
Thy Countries ſtrength and weakneſſe, thine own waies
Whether to knocke againſt the Gates 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 then ere an Enemie,
Yet Martius that was much. Your hand: moſt welcome.

Exeunt.

Enter two of the Servingmen.

1 Heere's a ſtrange alteration?

2 By my hand, I had thought to have ſroken him with
a Cudgell, and yet my minde gave me, his cloathes made
a falſe report of him.

1 What an Arme he has, he turn'd me about with his
finger and his thumbe, as one would ſet up a Top.

2 Nay, I knew by his face that there was ſome-thing
in him. He had fir, a kinde of face me thought. I cannot

ee 2

tell

The Tragedy of Coriolanus.

tell how to terme it.

1 He had so, looking as it were, would I were hang'd but I thought there was more in him, then I could think. 2. So did I, He be so worne: He is simply the rareft man i'th' world.

1 I thinke he is : but a greater soldier then he, You wor one.

2. Who my Maſter ?

1 Nay, it's no matter for that.

2 Worth fix on him.

1 Nay not so neither : but I take him to be the greater Souldiour.

2 Faith looke you, one cannot tell how to ſay that : for the defence of a Towne, our Generall is excellent.

1 I, and for an affault too.

*Enter the third Servingman.*

2 Oh Slaves, I can tell you Newes, News you Rafaels

Both. What, what, what? Let's partake.

3 I would not be a Roman of all Nations; I had as live be a condemn'd man.

Both. Wherefore ? Wherefore ?

3 Why here's he that was wont to thwacke our Generall, Caius Martius.

1 Why do you ſay, thwacke our Generall ?

3 I do not ſay thwacke our Generall, but he was always good enough for him

2 Come we are fellowes and friends : he was ever too hard for him, I have heard him ſay so himſelfe.

1 He was too hard for him directly, to ſay the Troth on't before Coriolanus; he ſcotcht him, and notcht him like a Carbinado.

2 And hee had bin Cannibally given, hee might have boyld and eaten him too.

1 But more of thy Newes.

2 Why he is so made on heere within, as if he were Son and Heire to Mars, ſet at upper end o'th' Table : No quæſtion askt him by any of the Senators, but they ſtand bald before him. Our Generall himſelfe makes a Miftris of him, Sanctifies himſelfe with's hand, and turnes up the white o'th' eye to his diſcourſe. But the bottome of the Newes is, our Generall is cut i'th' middle, & but one halfe of what he was yefterday. For the other ha's halfe, by the intreaty and grant of the whole Table. Hee'l go hee fayes, and ſole the Porter of Rome Gates by th'eares. He will mowe all downe before him, and leave his paſſage poul'd.

2 And he's as like to do't as any man I can imagine.

3 Doo't? he will doot : for look you fir, he has as many Friends as Enemies: which Friends fir as it were, durſt not (looke you fir) ſhew themſelves (as we terme it) his Friends, whileſt he's in Direſtitude,

1 Direſtitude ? What's that ?

3 But when they ſhall fee fir, his Creſt up againe, and the man in blood, they will out of their Burroughes (like Conies after Raine) and revell all with him.

1 But when goes this forward?

3 To morrow, to day, prefently, you ſhall have the Drum ſtrooke up this afternoone : 'Tis as it were a parcel of their Feaſt, and to be executed ere they wipe their lips.

2 Why then we ſhall have a ſtirring World againe : This peace is nothing, but to ruſt Iron, encreafe Taylors, and breed Ballad-makers.

1 Let me have Warre ſay I, it exceeds peace as farre as day do's night: It's alprightly walking, audible, and full of Vent. Peace, is a very Apoplexy, Lethargie, muſt'd, deafe, ſleepe, inſenſible, a getter of more baſtard Chil-

dren, then warres a deſtroyer of men.

2 'T is so, and as warres in ſome ſort may bee ſaide to be a Ravifier, so it cannot be denied, but peace is a great maker of Cuckolds.

1 I, and it makes men hate one another.

3 Reaſon, becauſe they then leſſeneede one another: The Warres for my money. I hope to ſee Romanes as cheaſe as Volcians. They are riling, they are riling.

Both. In, in, in, in.

Exeunt.

*Enter the two Tribunes, Sicinius, and Brutus.*

Sicin. We heare not of him, neither need we ſeare him, His remedies are tame, the prefent peace, And quietneſſe of the people, which before Were in wilde hurry. Heere do we make his Friends Bluſh, that the world goes well : who rather had, Though they themſelves did ſuffer by't, behold Difſerential numbers peſtring ſtreets, then ſee Our Trademen ſinging in their ſhops, and going About their Functions friendly.

*Enter Manernius.*

Bru. We ſlood too't in good time. Is this Menemius?

Sicin. 'Tis he, 'tis he : O he is grown moſt kind of late! Haile Sir, Mene. Haile to you both.

Sicin. Your Coriolanus is not much miſt, but with his Friends : the Common wealth doth ſtand, and so would do, were he more angry at it.

Mene. All's well, and might have beene much better, if he could have temporiz'd.

Sicin. Where is he, heare you ?

Mene. Nay I heare nothing :

His Mother and his wife, heare nothing from him.

*Enter three or ſoure Citizens.*

All. The Gods preferve you both.

Sicin. Gooden our Neighbours.

Bru. Gooden to you all, gooden to you all.

1 Our ſelves, our wives, and children, on our knees,

Are bound to pray for you both.

Sicin. Live, and thrive.

Bru. Farewell kinde Neighbours :

We wight Coriolanus had lov'd you as we did.

All. Now the Gods keepe you.

Both Tri. Farewell, farewell.

Exeunt Citizens

Sicin. This is a happier and more comely time, Then when theſe Fellowes ran about the ſtreets, Crying Conſuſion.

Bru. Caius Martius was

A worthy Officer i'th' Warre, but Inſolent, O're come with pride, Ambitious, paſſ all thinking Selfe-loving.

Sicin. And affecting one ſole THRONE, without aſſiſace

Mene. I thinke not to.

Sicin. We ſhould by this to all our Lamentation, If he had gone forth Counſell, found it ſo.

Bru. The Gods have well prevented it, and Rome Sits ſafe and ſtill, without him.

*Enter an Edile.*

Edile. Worthy Tribunes,

There is a Slave whom we have put in prifon, Reports the Volces with two ſeverall Powers Are entered in the Roman Territories, And with the depeſt malice of the Warre, Deffroy, what lies before 'em.

Mene. 'Tis Aſſidius,

Who hearing of our Martius Banifment, Thrifts forth his hornes againe into the world Which were In-ſhell'd, when Martius ſtood for Rome,

And

The Tragedy of Coriolanus.

1. *Ct.* The Gods bee good to us: Come Mafters let's home, I ever faid we were i'th wrong, when we banifh'd him.

2. *Ct.* So did we all, But come, let's home. *Exit.*
*Bru.* I do not like this Newes.

*Sicin.* Nor I.

*Bru.* Let's to the Capitoll : would halfe my wealth
Would by this for a lye.

*Sicin.* Pray let's go.

*Exeunt Tribunes.*

*Enter Auffidius with his Lieutenant.*

*Anf.* Do they fill flye to'th Roman?

*Lieu.* I do not know what Witchcraft's in him: but
Your Soldiers use him as the grace'fore meate,
Their talke at Table, and their Thankes at end,
And you are darkned in this action Sir,
Even by your owne.

*Anf.* I cannot helpe it now,
Vnleſſe by uſing meanes I lame the foote
Of our deſigne. He beares himſelfe more proudly,
Even to my perſon, then I thought he would
When firſt I did embrace him. Yet his Nature
In that's no Changeling, and I muſt excufe
What cannot be amended.

*Lieu.* Yet I will Sir,
(I'meane for your perticular ) you had not
Ioyd in Commiflion with him : but either have borne
The action of your ſelfe, or eſſe to him , had left it ſoly.

*Anf.* I understand thee well, and be thou ſure.
When he ſhall come to his account, he knowes not
What I can urge againſt him, although it ſeeses
And ſo he thinkes, and is no leſſe apparant
To th' vulgar eye, that he bears all things fairely :
And ſhewes good Husbandry for the Volcean State,
Fights Dragon-like, and does atcheeve as ſoon
As draw his Sword : yet he hath left undone
That which ſhall brake his necke, or hazard mine.
When ere we come to our account.

*Leis.* Sir, I beſeech you, think you he'll carry Rome?

*Anf.* All places yeeld to him ere he fits downe,
And the Nobility of Rome are his :
The Senator and patricians love him too :
The tribunes are no Soldiers : and their people
Will be as rafh in the repeale , as haſty
To expell him thence. I thinke he'll be to Rome
As is the Aſpray to the Fifth, who takes it
By Soveraignty of Nature. Firſt, he was
A Noble ſervant to them, but he could not
Carry his Honors even: whether'was Pride
Which out of dayly Fortune ever taints
The happy man; whether defect of judgement,
To faile in the diſpoſing of chofe chances
Which he was Lord of : or whether Nature,
Not to be other then one thing, not mooving,
From th' Caske to th' Cuffion: but commanding peace
Even with the fame auſturity and garbe,
As he controul'd the warre. But one of theſe
(As he hath ſpices of them all) not all,
For I dare ſo farre free him, made him fear'd,
So hated, and ſo banifh'd : but he ha's a Merit
To choake it in the utt'rance : So our Vertues,
Lie in th' interpretation of the time,
And power unto it ſelfe moſt commendable,
Hath not a Tombe ſo evident as a Chairre
T' extoll what it hath done.

One fire drives out one fire; one Naile, one Naile ;
Rights by rights fouler, ſtrengths by ſtrengths do faile.

Come let's away : when *Caim* Rome is thine,
Thou art poor'rt of all; then shortly art thou mine. *Exeunt.*

Actus Quintus.

*Enter Menenius, Cominius, Sicinius, Brutus,*
*she two Tribunes, with others.*

*Menen.* No, Ile not go : you heare what he hath faid
Which was fometime his *Generall* : who loved him
In a moſt deere particular. He call'd me Father :
But what o'that ? Go you that banifh'd him
A mile before his Tent, fall downe and kneele
The way into his mercy : Nay, if he coy'd
To heare *Cominius* ſpeake, Ile keepe at home.

*Com.* He would not ſeeme to know me.

*Menen.* Do you heare ?

*Com.* Yet one time he did call me by my name :
I urg'd our old acquaintance, and the drops
That we have bled together. *Coriolanus*
He would not anſwer to: Forbad all Names,
He was a kinde of Nothing, Titleleſſe,
Till he had forg'd himſelfe a name a' th' fire
Of burning Rome.

*Menen.* Why fo: you have made good worke:
A paire of Tribunes, that have wrack'd for Rome,
To make Coales cheape : A Noble memory.

*Com.* I minded him, how Royall 'twas to pardon
When it was leſſe expected. He replyed
It was a bare petition of a State
To one whom they had puniſhed.

*Menen.* Very well, could he ſay leſſe?

*Com.* I offered to awaken his regard
For his private Friends. His anſwere to me was
He could not ſlay to pike them, in a pile
Of noyſome muſty Chaffe. He faid, 'twas folly
For one poore graine or two, to leave unburnt
And ſtill to noſe th' offenſe.

*Menen.* For one poore graine or two ?
I am one of thofe : his Mother, Wife, his Childe,
And this brave Fellow too : we are the Graines,
You are the muſly Chaffe, and you are ſin ſelt
Above the Moone. We muſt be burnt for you.

*Sicin.* Nay, pray be patient : If you refufe your ayde
In this ſo never-needed helpe, yet do not
Vpbraid's with our diſtrefle. But ſure if you
Would be your Countries Pleader, your good tongue
More then the inſant Armie we can make
Might ſtop our Countryman.

*Menen.* No: Ile not meddle.

*Sicin.* Pray you go to him.

*Menen.* What ſhould I do?

*Bru.* Oely make triall what your Love cando,
For Rome, towards *Martius*.

*Mene.* Well, and ſay that *Martius* returne me,
As *Cominius* is return'd, unheard: what then?
But as a diſcontented Friend, griekſe-fhot
With his unkindneſſe. Say't be ſo?

*Sicin.* Yet your good will

Muſt have that thankes from Rome, after the meaſure
As you intended well.

*Mene.* Ile undertak't :
I thinke he'll heare me. Yet to bite his lip,
And humme at good *Cominius*, much unhearts me.

He

The Tragedy of Coriolanus.

He was not taken well, he had not din'd,
The Veines unfill'd, our blood is cold, and then
We powrt upon the Morning, are unapt
To give or to forgive; but when we have flufft
These Pipes, and thefe Conveyances of our blood
With Wine and Feeding, we have fuppler Soules
Then in our Prieft-like Fafts: therefore Ile watch him
Till he be dieted to my requeft,
And then Ile fet upon him.

Bru. You know the very rode into his kindneſſe,
And cannot lobe your way.

Mene. Good faith Ile prove him,
Speed how it will. I'llare ere long, have knowledge
Of my fucceſſe.
Exeunt.

Com. Hee' never heare him.

Sicin. Not.

Com. I tell you, he doe's fit in Gold, his eye
Red as 'twould burne Rome : and his Injury
The Gaoler to his pitty. I kneel'd before him,
Twas very faintly he laid Rife: difmift me
Thus with his ſpeechleſſe hand. What he would do
He ſent in writing after me: what he would not,
Bound with an Oath to yeeld to his conditions :
So that all hope is vaine, unleſſe his Noble Mother,
And his Wife, who (as I heare) meane to ſolicite him
For mercy to his Country: therefore let's hence,
And with our faire Intreaties haſt them on.
Exeunt.

Enter Menenius to the Watch or Guard.

1 Wat. Stay: whence are you?

2. Wat. Stand, and go backe.

Mto. You guard like men, 'tis well. But by your leave,
I am an Officer of State, &c. come to ſpeak with Coriolanus.

1 From whence? Mene. From Rome.

1 You may not paffe, you muſt returne : our Generall
will no more heare from thence.

2 You! I fee your Rome embrac'd with fire, before
You! ſpeak with Coriolanus.

Mene. Good my Friends,

If you have heard your Generall talke of Rome,
And of his Friends there, it is Lots to Blankes,
My name hath touch't your cares: it is Menenius.

1 Be it so, go back: the verture of your name,
Is not heere paffable.

Mene. I tell thee Fellow,
Thy Generall is my Lover: I have beene
The booke of his good A:ts, whence men have read
His Fame unparalle'd, happily amplified:
For I have ever verified my Friends,
(Of whom hee's cheeſe ) with all the ſize that verity
Would without laping ſuffer: Nay, ſometimes,
Like to a Bowle upon a ſubtle ground
I have tumbled pailt the throw: and in his praeſe
Have (almoſt) ſtamp't the Leasing. Therefore Fellow,
I muſt have leave to paffe.

1 Faith Sir, if you had told as many lies in his behalfe,
as you have uttered words in your owne, you should not
paffe here: no, though it were as vertuous to lye, as to
live chaſtly. Therefore go backe.

Mene. By the ſell fellow, remember my name is Menenius,
always factionary on the party of your Generall.

2 How! ever you have bin his Lier., as you ſay you
have, I am one that telling true under him, muſt ſay you
cannot paffe. Therefore go backe.

Mene. Ha's he din'd can't it thou tell? For I would not
ſpeak with him, till after dinner.

1 You are a Roman, are you?

Mene. I am as thy Generall is.

1 Then you ſhould hate Rome, as he do's. Can you,
when you have puſht out your gates, the very Defender
of them, and in a violent populer ignorance, given your
enemy your shield, thinke to front his revenges with the
cafie groanes of old women, the Virginal Palms of your
daughters , or with the palied interceſſion of ſuch a de-
cay'd Dotant as you ſeeme to be? Can you think to blow
out the intended fire, your City is ready to flame in, with
fuch weake breath as this? No, you are deceiv'd; therefore
backe to Rome, and prepare for your execution: you are
condemn'd, our Generall has ſworne you out of reprevee
and pardon.

Mene. Sirra, if the Captaine knew I were here,
He would uſe me with eſtimation.

1 Come, my Capraine knowes you not.

Mene. I meane thy Generall.

1 My Generall cares not for you. Backe I ſay, go' leaſt
Iet forth your halſe pinte of blood. Backe, that's the ut-
moſt of your having, backe.

Mene. Nay but Fellow, Fellow.

Enter Coriolanus with Auffidissima.

Corio. What's the matter?

Mene, Now you Companion: Ile ſay an arrant for you:
you ſhall know now that I am in eſtimation: you ſhall
perceive, that a lacke gardant cannot office me from my
Son Coriolanus, gueſe but my entertainment with him: if
thou ſtand'it 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 property, and love thee no worſe then thy old
Father Menenius do's. O my Son, my Son I thou art pre-
paring fire for us: look e thee, heere's water to quench it.
I was hardly moved to come to thee: but being affuſed
none but my ſelfe could moue thee, I have beene blowne
out of your Gates with ſighes: and conjure thee to par-
don Rome, and thy petitionary Countrimen. The good
Gods affwage thy wrath, and turne the dregs of it, upon
this Varlet heere: This, who like a blocke hath denied
my acceſſe to thee.

Corio. Away.

Mene. How? Away?

Corio. Wife, Mother, Child, I know not. My affaires
Are Servanted to others: Though I owe
My revenge properly, my remiffion lies
In Volcean breſts. That we have beene familiar,
Ingrate forgetfulneſſe shall poſſion rather
Then pitty: Note how much, therefore be gone.
Mine cares againſt your ſuites, are ſtronger then
Your gates againſt my force. Yet for I loved thee,
Take this along, I wriit it for thy ſake,
And would have ſent it. Another word Menenius,
I will not heare thee ſpeak. This man Auffidissima
Was my belov'd in Rome: yet thou behold it.

Anſ. You keepe a conſant temper.

Manent the Guard and Menenius.

1 Now fir, is your name Menenius?

2 'Tis a ſpell you ſee of much power:
You know the way home againe:

1 Do you heare how we are ſhent for keeping your greatneſſe backe?

2 What cauſe do you thinke I have to ſwoond?
Mene. I neither care for th' world, nor your Generall:
for ſuch things as you, I can ſcarſe thinke ther's any, y'are
ſo flight. He that hath a will to dye by himſelfe, ſeares it
not

nor

The Tragedy of Coriolanus.

Mef. Sir, if you'd fave your life flye to your Houfe,
The Piebeians have got your Fellow Tribune,
And hale him up and downe; all wearing, if
The Romane Ladies bring not comfort home,
They'l give him death by Inches.

Enter another Messenger.

Sicin. What's the Newes ? (prevayl'd,

Mef. Good Newes, good newes, the Ladies have
The Volcians are dillodg'd, and Martius gone:

A merrier day did never yet greet Rome,
No, not th' expulsion of the Tarquins.

Sicin. Friend, art thou certaine this is true ?

Is't moft certaine.

Mef. As certaine as I knowe the Sun is fire:
Where have you lurk'd that you make doubt of it:
Ne're through an Arch so hurried the blowne Tide
As the recomfor ted through th' gates. Why harke you?

Trumpets, Hoboyes, Drums beate, altogether.

The Trumpets, Sack-buts, Palfieries, and Fifies,
Tabors, and Symboles, and the showtling Romans,

Make the Sunne dance. Hearke yon, A flout within

Meue. This is good Newes:

I will go meete the Ladies. This Volumna,

Is worth of Confuls, 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 thoufand of your throates,
I'de not have given a doit. Harke, how they joy.

Sound still with the Shouts.

Sicin. Firſt, the Gods bleſſe you for your tydings:

Next, accept my thankefullneſſe.

Mef. Sir, we have all great cauſe to give great thanks.

Sicin. They are neere the City.

Mef. Almoſt at point to enter.

Sicin. Wee'l meet them, and helpe the joy. Exeunt.

Enter two Senators, with Ladies, paſſing over
the Stage, with other Lords.

Sen. Behold our Patronneſſe, the life of Rome:

Call all your Tribes together, praife the Gods,
And make triumphant fires, ſtrow Flowers before them:

Vnhoof the noife that banifh'd Martius;

Repeale him, with the welcome of his Mother :
Cry welcome Ladies, welcome.

All. Welcome Ladies, welcome. Exeunt.

A Flourish with Drummes & Trumpets.

Enter Tullus Auffidius, with Attendants.

Auf. Go tell the Lords a'th' City, I am heere:

Deliver them this Paper: having read it,

Bid them repaire to th' Market place, where I

Even in theirs, and in the Commons cares

Will vouch the truth of it. Him I accuſe;

The City Ports by this hath enter'd, and

Intends t'appeare before the People, hoping
To purge himſeſe with words. Difpatch.

Enter 3 or 4 Confirators of Auffidius Faſſion.

Moft Welcome.

1.Con. How is it with our Generall?

Auf. Even ſo, as with a man by his owne Almesim-
ploy ſon'd, and with his Charity ſaine.

2.Con. Moft Noble Sir, If you do hold the fame intent
Wherein you wifht 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 remaine uncertaine, whilft
'Twixt you there's difference: but the fall of either
Makes the Survivor heyre 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 watere his new Plante with dewes of Flatterie,
Seducing ſo my Friends : and to this end,
He bowd his Nature, never knowne before,
But to be rough, unfwayable, and free.

3. Conſp. Sir, his floutneſſe

When he did ſtand for Confull, which he loft
By lacke of flooping,

Auf. That I would have ſpoke of:
Being banifh'd for't, he came unto my Harth,
Prefcuted to my knife his Throat: I tooke him,
Made him joynſt ſervant with me: Gave him way
Inall his owne defires: Nay, let him choofe

Out of my Files, his projects, to accompliſh
My beſt and freeſh ſmen, ſervd his diſignements
In mine owne perſon: hope to rape the Fame
Which he did end all his; and tooke ſome pride

To do my ſelſe this wrong; Till at the end

I feem'd his Follower, nor Partner; and
He wadg'd me with his Countenance, as if

I had bin Mercenary.
1.Con. So he did my Lord:

The Army marveyled at it, and in the laſt,

When he had carried Rome, and that we look'd
For no Jeſſe Spoile, then Glory.

Auf. There was it:

For which my finewes ſhall be flretch upon him,
At a few drops of Womens ſhewme, which are
As cheape as Lics; he fold the Blood and Labour
Of our great Action; therefore ſhall he dye,
And I le renew me in his fail. But hearke,

Drummes and Trumpets founds, with great
thowts of the people.

1.Con. Your Native Towne you enter'd like a Peſſe,
And had no welcomes home, but he returnes
Splitting the Ayre with noyle,

2.Con. And patient Fooles,

Whose children he haſh ſaine, their bafe throats teare
With giving him glorie.

3.Con. Therefore at your vantage,
Ere he expreſſe himſeſe, or move the people

With what he would ſay, let him feele your Sword:

Which he will ſecond, when he lies along

After your way. His Tale pronouac'd, ſhall bury

His Reaſons, with his Body.

Auf. Say no more. Heere come the Lords,

Enter the Lords of the City.

All Lords. Yon are moſt welcome home.

Auf. I have not deſerv'd it.

But worthy Lords, have you with heede perſuted
What I have written to you?

All. We have.

1.Lord. And greeve to heare't:

What faults he made before the laſt, I thinke

Might have found eafe Fines: But there to end

Where he was to begin, and give away

The benefit of our Levies, anſwering us

With our owne charge: making a Treatie, where
There was a yeelding; this admits no excufe.

Auf.

# The Lamentable Tragedy of
Titus Andronicus.

## Actus Primus. Scena Prima.

Enter the Tribunes and Senator aloft. And then enter
Saturninus and his Followers at one door, and
Bassianus and his Followers at the other,
with Drum & Colours.

### Saturninus.

Oble Patricians, Patrons of my right,
Defend the justice of my Caufe with Armes.
And Country-men, my loving Followers,
Pleade my Succedive Title with your Swords.
I was the first borne Sonne, that was the laft
That wore the Imperiall Diadem of Rome :
Then let my Fathers Honours live in me,
Nor wrong mine Age with this indignitie.

Bassianus. Romaines, Friends, Followers,
Favours of my Right:
If ever Bassianus, Cefars Sonne,
Were gracious in the eyes of Royall Rome,
Keepe then this paflage to the Capitoll :
And suffer not Difhonour to approach
Th' Imperiall Scate to Vertue: confecrate
To Juſtice, Continence, and Nobility:
But let Defert in pure Election diine ;
And Romanes, fight for Freedome in your Choice.

### Enter Marcus Andronicus aloft with the Crowne.

Princes, that ſtrive by Faſtions, and my Friends,
Ambitiously for Rule and Emperie :
Know, that the people of Rome for whom we ſtand
Aſpeciall Party, have by Common voyce
In Election for the Romane Emperie,
Chofen Andronicus, Sur-named Pius,
For many good and great deſerts to Rome.
A Nobler man, a braver Warriour,
Lives not this day within the Cit/ Walles.
He by the Senate is accited home
From weary Warres agrinſt the barbarous Gothes,
That with his Sonnes (a terror to our Foes)
Hath yoak'd a Nation ſtrong, train'd up in Armes.
Ten yeares are ſpent, ſince firſt he undertooke
This Caufe of Rome, and chaſticed with armes
Our Enemies pride. Five times he hath return'd
Bleeding to Rome, bearing his Valiant Sonnes
In Coffins from the Field.
And now at laſt, laden with Honours Spoyles,
Returns the good Andronicus to Rome,
Renowned Titus, flourifhing in Armes.

Let us intreat, by Honour of his Name
Whom (worthily) yon would have now ſucceede,
And in the Capitoll and Senates right,
Whom you pretend to honor and adore,
That you withdraw you, and abate your Strength,
Difmiffe your Followers, and as Suiters ſhould,
Pleade your Deſerts in Peace and Humbleneſſe.

Saturnine. How ſayre the Tribune ſpeakes,
To calme my thoughts.

Baffia. Marcus Andronicus, ſo I do aſſe
In thy uprightneſſe and Integrity:
And ſo I Love and honor thee, and thine,
Thy Noble Brother Titus, and his Sonnes,
And Her (to whom my thoughts are humbled all)
Gracious Lavinia, Romes rich Ornament,
That I will heere diſmiffe my loving Friends :
And to my Fortunes, and the Peoples Favour,
Commit my Caufe in ballance to be weigh'd.

Ex. Souldiers.

Saturnine. Friends, that have beene
Thus forward in my Right,
I thanke you all, and heere Difmiff you all,
And to the Love and Favour of my Counrey,
Commit my ſelſe, my Perſon, and the Caufe:
Rome, be as juſt and gracious into me,
As I am confident and kinde to thee.
Open the Gates, and let me in.

Baffia. Tribunes, and me, a poore Competitor.

They go up into the Senate house.

### Enter a Captaine.

Cap. Romanes make way: : the good Andronicus,
Patron of Vertue, Romes beſt Champion,
Succeſſefull in the Battailes that he fightes,
With Honour and with Fortune is return'd,
From whence he circumſcribed with his Sword,
And brought to yoke the Enemies of Rome.

Sound Drummes and Trumpets. And then enter two of Titus
Sonnes; After them, two men bearing a Coffin cover'd
with blacke, then two other Sonnes. After them, Titus
Andronicus, and then Tamora the Queene of Gothes,
C'hair two Sonnes Chiron and Demetrius, with Aaron the
Mooore, and others, as many as can bee: They ſet downe
the Coffin, and Titus ſpeakes.

Andronicus. Haile Rome :
Victorious in thy Mourning Weedes:

Loe,

The Tragedy of Titus Andronicus.

To ruffle in the Common-wealth of Rome.

Tit. Thefe words are Razors to my wounded heart.

Sat. And therefore lovely *Tamora* Queene of Gothes,
That like the flately *Phebe* mong'it her Nimphs
Doft over-thine the Gallant't Dames of Rome,
If thou be pleas'd with this my fodaine choife,
Behold I choife thee *Tamora* for my Bride,
And will Create thee Emprefte of Rome.

Speake Queene of Gothes doft thou applaud my choife?
And heere I fwearc by all the Romaine Gods,
Sith Prieft and Holy-water are to nepre,
And Tapers burne to bright, and every thing
Inreadinesſe for *Hymeneus* ſtand,
I will not reſalute the ſtrects of Rome,
Or dimbe my Pallace, till from forth this place,
Ileade eſpous'd my Bride along with me,

Tam. And heere in fight of heaven to Rome I ſwearc,
if *Saturnine* advance the Queene of Gothes,
She will a Hand-maid be to his deſires,
A loving Nurſe, a Mother to his youth.

Sat. Aſcend Faire Queene,

Panthean Lords, accompeare

Your Noble Emperour and his lovely Bride,

Sent by the heavens for Prince *Saturnine*,

Whofe wifedome hath her Fortune Conquered,
There ſhall we Confuſmate our Spouſall rites.

Exeunt omnes,

Tit. I am not bid to waite upon this Bride:

Tins when wer't thou wont to walke alone,
Dihonoured thus and Challenged of wrongs?

Enter *Marcus and Titus Sonnes*.

Mar. O Tins ſee! O ſee what thou haſt done!

In a bad quarrell, ſaine a Vertuous ſonne.

Tit. No foolish Tribune, no: No ſonne of mine,
Northou, nor theſe Confederates in the deed,
That hath diſhonoured all our Family,
Vaworthy brother, and unworthy Sonnes.

Luc. But let us give him buriall as becomes.

Give *Mutius* buriall with our Brotheren.

Tit. Traitors away, he reſt's not in this Tombe:
This Monument five hunreth yeares hath ſlood,
Which I have Sumpſuonſtly re-edified:

Heere none but Souldiers, and Romes Servitors,
Repofe in Fame: None bafely ſaine in braules,
Bury him where you can, be comes not heere.

Mar. My Lord this is impicry in you,

My Nephew *Mutius* deeds do plead for him,
He muſt be buried with his brotheren.

Titus two Sonnes ſpeakes.

And ſhall, or him we will accompanying.

Tit. And ſhall! What villaine was it ſpake that word?

Titus ſonne ſpeakes.

He that would vouch'd it in any place but heere.

Tit. What would you bury him in my deſpight?

Mar. No Noble *Titus* but intreat of thee,

Topardon *Mutius*, and to bury him.

Tit. *Marcus*, Even thou haſt ſtroke upon my Creft,
And with theſe Boyes mine Honour thou haſt wounded,
My foes I doe repute you every one.

So trouble me no more, but get you gone.

1. Son. He is not himſelfe, let us withdraw.

2. Son. Not I tell *Mutius* bones be buried.

The Brother and the ſonnes kyele.

Mar. Brother, for in that name doth nature plea'd.

2. Son. Father, and in that name doth nature ſpeake.

Tit. Speake thou no more if all the reſt will ſpeede.

Mar. Renowned *Titus* more then halfc'd my ſoule.

Luc. Deare Father, ſoule and ſubſtance of us all.

Mar. Suffer thy brother *Marcus* to interrey

His Noble Nephew heere in vertues neſt,

That died in Honour and *Lavinia's* caufe.

Thou art a Romaine, be not barbarous:

The Greekes upon advife did bury *Aix*.

That flew himſelfe: And *Laertes* ſonne,

Did graciously plead for his Funerals:

Let not young *Mutius* then that was thy joy,

Be bar'd his entrance heere.

Tit. Rife *Marcus*, rife,

The diſtall'd ſt day is this that ere I ſaw,

To be diſhonoured by my Sonnes in Rome:

Well, bury him, and bury me the next.

They put him in the Tombe.

Luc. There lie thy bones ſweet *Mutius* with thy

Till we with Trophees do adorne thy Tombe. (friends

They all kneele and lay.

No man ſhed teares for Noble *Mutius*,

He lives in Fame, that di'd in vertues caufe.

Exit.

Mar. My Lord to ſtep out of theſe ſudden dumps,
How comes it that the ſubtle Queene of Gothes,
Is of a fodaine thus advanc'd in Rome?

Tit. I know not *Marcus*: but I know it is,
(Whether by devife or no): he heavens can tell,
Is ſhe not then beholding to the man,
That brought her for this high good turne ſo farre?
Yes, and will Nobly him remunerate.

Flourish.

Enter the Emperor, *Tamora*, and her two ſons, with the Moore at one door. Enter at the other door *Bassianus* and *Lavinia* with others.

Sat. So *Bassianus*, you have plaid your prize,
God give you joy fir of your Gallant Bride.

Baf. And you of yours my Lord: I ſay no more,
Nor wifh no leſſe, and ſo I take my leave.

Sat. Traitor, if Rome have law, or we have power,
Thou and thy Facion ſhall repent this Rape.

Baf. Rape call you it my Lord, to leſſe my owne,
My true betrothed Love, and now my wifer,
But let the lawes of Rome determine all,
Meane while I am poſſeft of that is mine.

Sat. This good fir: you are very ſhort with us,
But if we live, weele be as ſharpe with you.

Baf. My Lord, what I have done as belt I may,
Anſwere I muſt, and ſhall do with my life,

Onely thus much I give your Grace to know,

By all the duties that I owe to Rome,

This Noble Gentleman Lord *Titus* heere,

Is in opinion and in honour wrong'd,

That in the reſcue of *Lavinia*,

With his owne hand did ſlay his youngeſt Son,

In zeale to you and highly mov'd to wrath,

To be controul'd in that he frankly gave:

Receive him then to favour *Saturnine*,
That hath expreſſt himſelfe in all his deeds,

A Father and a friend to thee, and Rome.

Tit. Prince *Bassianus* leave to plead my Deeds,

Tis thou, and thofe, that have diſhonoured me,
Rome and the righteous heavens be my judge,

How I have lov'd and Honour'd *Saturnine*.

Tam. My worthy Lord if ever *Tamora*,

ff 2

Were

Were gracious in those Princely eyes of thine,
Then heare me fpeake indifferently for all:
And at my fute (weet) pardon what is palt.
Sat. What Madam, be difhonoured openly,
And basely put it up without revenge?
Tam. Not fo my Lord,
The Gods of Rome for-fend,
I should be Authour to difhonour you,
But on mine honour dare, I undertake
For good Lord Titus innocence in all:
Whole firey not diffembled fpeakes his griefes,
Then at my fute looke graciously on him,
Loofe not fo noble a friend on vaine fuppofe,
Nor with fowre lookses affliet his gentle heart.
My Lord, be rul'd by me, be wonne at laft,
Diffemble all your griefes and difcontents,
You are but newly planted in your Thron,
Leaft then the people, and Patricians too,
Vpon a juſt ſurvey take Titus, part,
And ſupplant us for ingratitude,
Which Rome reputes to be a hainous finne.
Yeeld at intreats, and then let me alone:
Ile finde a day to maſacre them all,
And race their faction, and their familie,
The cruell Father, and his trayt rous fonnes,
Towhom I ſued for my deare fonnes life.
And make them know what tis to let a Queene
Kneele in the freetees, and beg for grace in vaine.
Come, come, sweet Emperour, (come Andronicus)
Takeup this good old man, and cheere the heart,
That dies in tempeſt of thy angry frowne.
Sat. Rife Titus, rife,
My Empfeſſe hath prevail'd.
Tit. I thanke your Majeſt,
And her my Lord.
Theſe words, theſe looks,
Inſufe new life in me.
Tam. Titus, I am incorporate in Rome,
ARoman now adopted happily:
And muſt advife the Emperour for his good,
This day all quarrels die Andronicus.
And let it be mine honour good my Lord,
That I have reconcil'd your friends and you,
For you Prince Balsamus, I have palt
My word and promife to the Emperour,
That you will be more milde and traſtable.
And feare not Lords:
And you Lavinia,
By my advife all humbled on your knees,
You ſhall aske pardon of his Majeſtly.
Son. We doe,
And vow to heaven, and to his Highnes,
That what we did, was mildly, as we might,
Tendring our fifters honour and our owne.
Mar. That on mine honour heere I do proteſt.
Sat. Away and talke not, trouble us no more.
Tam. Nay, nay,
Sweet Emperour, we muſt all be friends,
The Tribune and his Nephews kneele for grace,
I wil not be denied, sweet heart looke back.
Sat. Marcus,
For thy ſake and thy brothers heere,
And at my lovely Tamora's intreats,
I doe remit theſe young mens baynous faults.
Stand up: Lavinia, though you left me like a churle,
I found a friend, and ſure as death I ſware,

I would not part a Batchellour from the Priſt.
Come, if the Emperours Court can ſeaſt two Brides,
You are my gueſt Lavinia, and your friends:
This day ſhall be a Love-day Tamora.
Tit. To morrow and it plicaſe your Majeſt,
To hunt the Panther and the Heart with me,
With horne and Hound,
Weele give your Grace Bou jour,
Sat. Be it to Titus, and Gramercy too.

Exeunt.

Actus Secundus.

Enter Aron alone.

Aron. Now climbeth Tamora Olympus tope,
Safe out of Fortunes ſhot, and fitsaloft,
Secure of Thunders cracke or lightning ſlath,
Advanc'd above pale envies threatening reach:
As when the golden Sunne falutes theorne,
And having gilt the Ocean with his beames,
Gallops the Zodiace in his glittering Coach,
And over-looks the highelt piering hills:
So Tamora,
Vpon her wit doth earthly honour waite,
And vertue floopes and trembles at her frowne.
Then Aron arme the heart, and fit thy thoughts,
To mount aloft with thy Emperiall Miftris,
And mount her pitch, whom thou in triumph long
Haſt prifoner held, ſettred in amorous chains,
And falter bound to Arons charming eyes,
Then is Prometheus ti'deto Caucafus.
Away with flavifh weedes, and idle thoughts,
I will be bright and ſhine in Pearle and Gold,
To waite upon this new made Empreſſe,
To waite faid I ? To wanton with this Queene,
This Goddeſſe, this Samsaramis, this Queene,
This Syren, that will charme Romes Saturnine,
And fee his ſhipwracke, and his Common weals!
Holla, what ſtorme is this?

Enter Chiron and Demetrius braving.

Dem. Chiron thy yeeres want wit, thy wit wants edge
And manners to intru'd where I am grac'd,
And may for ought thou know'ft affected be.
Chi. Demetrius, thou doo'ſt over-weene in all,
And ſo in this, to beare me downe with braves,
Tis not the difference of a yeere or two
Makes me leſſe gracious, or thee moore fortunate:
I am as able, and as fir, as thou,
To ſerve, and to deferve my Miftris grace,
And that my ſword upon thee ſhall approve,
And plead my paffions for Lavinia's love.

Ar. Clubs, clubs, theſe lovers will not keep the peace.
Dem. Why Boy, although our mother (unadvifed)
Gave you a daunſing Rapier by your ſide,
Are you ſo deſperate growne to threat your friends?
Goe to: have your Lath glued within your ſheath,
Till you know better how to handle it.

Chi. Meane while fir, with the little skill I have,
Full well ſhalt thou perceive how much I dare.

Dem. I Boy, grow ye ſo brave?

They drawe.

Ar. Why now Lords?

So nere the Emperours Pallace dare you draw.

And

And maintaine such a quarrell openly?

Full well I wrote, the ground of all this grudge.

I would not for a million of Gold,

The caufe were knowue to them it moft concernes.

Nor would your noble mother for much more

Be to difhonored in the Court of Rome.

For ſhame put up.

Dem. Not I, till I have ſheath'd

My rapier in his boſome, and withall

Thrault theſe reproch full ſpeeches downe his throat,
That he hath breath'd in my diſhonour heere.

Chi. For that I am prepar'd, and full refolv'd,

Foule spoken Coward,

That thundreft with thy tongue,

And with thy weapon nothing darſt performe.

Ar. A way I ſay.

Now by the Gods that warlike Gothes adore,

This pretty brable will undoo us all:

Why Lords, and thinke you not how dangerous

It is to fet upon a Princes right?

What is Lavinia then become ſo loofe,

Or Baffians ſo degenerate,

That for her love ſuch quarrels may be broacht,
Without controulement, Inſtice, or revenge?

Young Lords beware, and ſhould the Emprefſe know,
This diſcord ground, the muſſicke would not pлеſe.

Chi. I care not I, knew ſhe and all the world,

Ilove Lavinia more then all the world,

Dem. Youngling,

Leame thou to make ſome meaner chole,

Lavinia is thine elder brothers hope.

Ar. Why are ye mad? Or know ye not in Rome,

How furious and impatient they be,

And cannot brooke Competitors in love?

I tell you Lords, you doe but plot your deaths,

By this devife.

Chi. Aron, a thouſand deaths would I propoſe,

To atchieve her whom I do love.

Ar. To atchieve her, how?

Dem. Why, mak'd ſt thou it ſo ſtrange?

Shee is a woman, therefore may be woo'd

Shee is a woman, therefore may be wonne,

Shee is Lavinia therefore muſt be lov'd.

What man, more water glideth by the Mill

Then wots the Miller of, and caſe it is

Of a cut loaſe to ſteal a ſhive we know:

Though Baffianus be the Emperours brother,

Better then he have yet worne Vulcans badge.

1. Ar. I, and as good as Saturninus may.

Dem. Then why should he diſpaire that knowes to
With words, faire looks, and liberality: (court it

What haſt not thou full often ſtrucke a Doo,

And borne her cleanly by the Keepers note?

Ar. Why then it ſeemes ſome certaine ſnatch or ſo

Would ſerve your turnes.

Chi. I ſo the turne were ſerved:

Dem. Aron thon haſt hit it.

Ar. Would you had hit it too,

Then ſhould not we be tir'd with this adoo:

Why harke yee, harke yee, and are you ſuch foolc?

To ſquare for this? Would it offend you then?

Chi. Faith not me.

Dem. Nor me, ſo I were one.

Ar. For ſhame are friends, and joyne for that you ian:
Tis pollicy, and ſtratageme muſt doe

That you affect, and ſo muſt you refolue,

That what you cannot as you would atchieve,
You muſt perſorce accompliſh as you may:

Take this of me, Lucrece was not more chaſt
Then this Lavinia, Baffianus love,

A ſpeedier courſe this lingring languilſment
Muſt we purſue, and I have found the path:

My Lords, a ſolenné hunting is in hand.

There will the lovely Roman Ladies troupe:

The Forreſt walkes are wide and ipacious,

And many unfrequented plots there are,

Fitted by kinde for rape and villainy:

Single you thither then this dainty Doo.

And ſtrike her home by force, if not by words:

This way or not at all, ſtand you in hope.

Come, come, our Emprefſe with her facred wit

To villainy and vengeance conſecrate,

Will we acquaint with all that we intend,

And ſhe ſhall file our engines with advife,

That will not ſuffer you to ſquare your ſelves,

But to your wifhes height advance you both.

The Emperours Court is like the house of Fame,

The pallace full of ſonges, of eyes, of eares:

The Woods are ruthleſſe, dreadfull, deafe, and dull:

There ſpeake, and ſtrike brave Boyes, & take your turnes.

There ſerve your luſts, ſhadow'd from heavens eye,

And revell in Lavinia's Treasury.

Chi. Thy confuſell Lad ſmells of no cowardife.

Dem. Sifas aut wefu, till I ſinde the ſtreames,
To coole this heat, a Charme to calme their fits,

Per Stigia, per manes Vehor.

Exeunt.

Enter Titus Andronicus and his three ſonnes, making a noife
with hounds and bornes, and Marcus.

Tit. The hunt is up, the morne is bright and gray,

The fields are fragrant, and the Woods are greene,

Vncouple heere, and let us make a bay,

And wake the Emperour, and his lovely Bride,

And rouze the Prince, and ring a hunters peale,

That all the Court may eccho with the noife.

Sonnes let it be your charge, as it is ours,

To attend the Emperours perſon carefully:

I have bene troubled in my ſleepe this night,

But dawning day new comfort hath inſpir'd.

Winde Hornet.

Heere a cry of boundes, and winde bornes in a peale, then
Enter Saturninus, Tamora, Baffianus, Lavina, Chiron, De-
metrius, and their Attendans.

Tis. Many good morrowes to your Majety,
Madam to you as many and as good.

I promifed your Grace, a Hunters peale.

Sat. And you have rung it luſtily my Lords,
Some what too early for new married Ladies.

Baf. Lavinia, how ſay you?

Lau. I ſay no:
I have bene 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 Romaine hunting.

Mar. I have dogges my Lord,
Will rouze the proudeſt Panther in the Chafe,
And clime the highest Promontory top.

Tit. And I have horſe will follow where the game
Makes away, and runne like Swallowes ore the plaine

Dem. Chiron

ff 3

Dem. Chiron we hunt not we, with Horfe nor Hound,
But hope to plucke a dainty Do to ground.

Excunt.

Enter Aron alone.

Ar. He that had wit, would thinke 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 coine a ſtratageme,
Which cunningly effected, will beget
A very excellent peecce of villany:
And to ſopofe ſweet Gold for their unreſt,
That have their Almes out of the Emprefſe Cheſt.

Enter Tamora to the Moore.

Tam. My lovely Aron,
Wherefore lookt thou lad,
When every thing doth make a Gleefullboast?
The Birds chaunt melody on every buſh,
The Snake lies rolled in the chearefull Sunne,
The greene leaves quiver with the cooling winde,
And make a cheker'd ſhadow on the ground:
Vnder their ſweet ſhade, Aron let us fit,
And whil'th the babling Echo mock's the Hounds,
Replying ſhilly to the well tun'd-Hornes,
As a double hunt were heard at once,
Let us fit downe, and marke their yelping noife:
And after conflict, ſuch as was ſuppos'd,
The wandring Prince and Dido once enjoy'd,
When with a happy ſtorme they were ſurpris'd,
And Curtain'd with a Counfaile-keeping Cave,
We may each wreathed in the others armes,
(Our paſtimes done) poffeffe a Golden ſlumber,
Whiles Hounds and Hornes, and ſweet Melodious Birds
Be unto us, as is a Nurſes Song
Of Lullaby, to bring her Babe aſſeepc.

Ar. Madame,

Though Venus governe your defires,
Saturne is Dominator over mine:
What ſignifies my deadly ſtanding eye,
My ſilence, and my Cloudy Melancholy,
My ſleece of Woolly haire, that now uncurles,
Even as an Adder when the doth unrowle
To do ſome fatall execution?
No Madam, theſe are no Veneriall ſignes,
Vengeance is in my heart, death in my band,
Blood, and revenge, are Hammering in my head,
Harke Tamora, the Emprefſe of my Sonne,
Which never hopes more heaven, then reſts in thee,
This is the day of Doome for Baffianus;
His Philomel muſt ſooſe her tongue to day,
Thy Sonnes make Pillage of her Chaſtity,
And waſh their hands in Baffianus blood.
Seeſt thou this Letter, take it up I pray thee,
And give the King this fatall plotted Scrowle,
Now queſtion me no more, we are eſpied,
Heere comes a parruell of our hopefull Booty,
Which dreads not yet their lives deſtruction.

Enter Baffianus and Lavinia.

Tam. Ah my ſweet Moore:
Sweeter to me then life:
Ar. No more great Emprefſe, Baffianus comes,
Be croſſe with him, and Ile goe fetch thy Sonnes
To backe thy quarrell what ſo ere they ba.
Baf. Whom have we here?
Romes Royall Emprefſe,

Vnſurniſht of our well beſeeming troop?
Or is it Dian habited like her,
Who hath abandoned her holy Groves,
To fee the generall Hunting in this Forreſt?
Tam. Sawey controller of our private ſteps:
Had I the power, that ſome ſay Dian had,
Thy Temples ſhould be planted p[re]ſently.
With Hornes, as was A Eleons, and the Hounds
Should drive upon his new transformed limbes,
Vnmannerly Intruder as thou art.
Lau. Vnder your patience gentle Emprefſe,
Tis thought you have a goodly giſt in Horning,
And to be doubted, that your Moore and you
Are fingled forth to try experiments:
Love ſhield your husband from his Hounds to day,
Tis pitty they should take him for a Stag.

Brſ. Belceve me Queene, your ſwarth Cymmerian,
Doth make your Honour of his bodies Hue,
Spotted, deteſtred, and abhominable.
Why are you ſequelſtred from all your traine?
Diſmounted from your Snow-white goodly Steed,
And wandred hither to an obſcure plot,
Accompanied with a barbarous Moore,
If foule deteſre had not conducted you?

Lau. And being intercepted in your ſport,
Great reaſon that my Noble Lord, be rated
For Saucineſſe, I pray you let us hence,
And let her joy her Raven coloured love,
This valley fits the purpose paffing well.

Baf. The King my brother ſhall have notice of this.

Lau. I, for theſe ſlips have made him noted long,
Good King, to be ſo mightily abuſed.

Tam. Why have I patience to endure all this?

Enter Chiron and Demetrius.

Dem. How now deere Soveraigne
And our gracious Mother,
Why doth your Highnes ſlooke ſo pale and wan?
Tam. Have I not reaſon thinke you to looke pale?
Thefe two have t[ic]d me hither to this place,
A barren, deteſted vale you fee it is.
The Trees (though Sommer) yet forlorne and leane,
Ore-come with Moſſe, and balefull Miſto.
Heere never ſhines the Sunne, heere nothing breeds,
Vnleſſe the nightly Owle, or fatall 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 hifſing Snakes,
Ten thouſand ſwelling Toades, as many Vrchins,
Would make ſuch fearefull and confuſed cries,
As any mortall body hearing it,
Should ſtraite fall mad, or else die suddenly.
No sooner had they told this helliſh tale,
But ſtrait they told me they would binde me heere,
Vnto the body of a diſmal yew,
And leave me to this miſerable death.
And then they cal'd me foule Adultereffe,
Lafcivious Goth, and all the bitterest tearmes
That ever caſe did heare 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 cal'd my Children.

Dem. This is a witneſſe that I am thy Sonne. Sab him.
Chi. And this for me,
Strook home to ſhow my ſtrenth.

Lan. I come Semiramis, nay Barbarous Tamora,

For

["The Tragedy of Titus Andronicus.", "For no name fits thy nature but thy owne.", "Tam. Give me thy poygnard: you shall know my boyes\nYour Mothers hand shall right your Mothers wrong.", "Dem. Stay Madam heere is more belongs to her,\nFirst through the Corne, then after burne the straw:\nThis Minion flood upon her chaflity,", "Fifth thrash the Corne, then after burne the straw:\nThis Minion flood upon her chaflity,\nVpon her Nuptiall vow, her loyalty.", "And with that painted hope she braves your Mightineffe,\nAnd shall she carry this unto her grave?", "Chi. And if she doe,", "I would I werean Eunuch.", "Drag hence her husband to some secret hole,", "And make his dead Trunke-Pillow to our luft.", "Tam. But when ye have the hony ye defire,", "Let not this Wale out-live us both to sting.", "Chi. I warrant you Madam we will make that fure:\nCome Miftris, now per force we will enjoy,\nThat nice-preferred honefty of yours.", "Lav. Oh Tamora, thou beaſt a woman face.", "Tam. I will not heare her ſpeake, away with her.", "Lav. Sweet Lords intreat her heare me but a word.", "Dem. Liffen faire Madam, let it be your glory", "Toſe her teares, but be your heart to them,\nAsunrelenting flint to drops of raine.", "Tam. When did the Tigers young-ones teach the dam?", "O do not learne her wrath, she taught it thee,", "The milke thou fuck'd from her did turne to Marble,", "Even at thy Teat thou had'd it thy Tyranny,", "Yet every Mother breeds not Sonnes alike,", "Dothou intreat her ſhew a woman pitty.", "Chi. What, Would it thou have me prove my ſelfe a baſtard?", "Lav. Tis true,", "The Raven doth not hatch a Larke,", "Yet have I heard, Oh could I finde it now,", "The Lion mov'd with pitty, did indure", "To have his Princely pawes par'd all away.", "Some fay, that Raogens foſter for lorne children,", "The whil't their owne birds famifh in their neſt:", "Oh beto me though thy hard heart ſay no,", "Nothing fo kind but ſomething pittitull.", "Tam. I know not 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 flaine thee:", "Benot obdurate, open thy deafe eares.", "Tam. Had it thou in perſon nere offended me,", "Even for his ſake am I now pittileſſe:", "Remember Boyes I pow'd forth teares in vaine,", "To ſave your brother from the ſacrifice,", "But fierce Andronicus would not renſe,", "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 Queene,", "And with thine owne hands kill me in this place,", "For this not life that I have beg'd for long,", "Poor I was flaine, when Bafſianus dy'd.", "TA. What beg'd it thou then? fond woman, let me go?", "Lav. This preſent death I beg, and one thing more,", "That woman hood denies my tongue to tell:", "Oh keepe me from their worſe then killing luſt,", "And tumble me into some loathome pit,", "Where never man's eye may behold my body,", "Doe this, and be a charitable murderer.", "Tam. So should I rob my sweet Sonnes of their fee,\nNo let them satisfie their luſt on thee.", "Dem. Away,", "For thou haſt ſtand us heere too long.", "Lav. No grace.", "No woman hood? Ah beaſtly creature,", "The blot and enemy to our generall name,", "Confusion all", "Chi. Nay then Ile flop your mouth:\nBring thou her husband,", "This isthe Hole where Aron bid us hide him. Exeunt.", "Tam. Farewell my Sonnes, fee that you make her ſure,\nNere let my heart know merry cheere indeed,", "Till all the Androviſcipe made away:", "Now will I hence to ſeeke my lovely Moore,", "And let my ſpleeneſull Sonnes this Trull defoure. Exit.", "Enter Aron with two of Titus Sonnes.", "Aron. Come on my Lords, the better ſoore before,\nStraight will I bring you to thelothome pit,\nWhere I eſpied the Panther ſaſt aſſleepe.", "Quin. My fight is very dull what ere it bodes.", "Mar. And mine I promife you, were it not for ſhame,\nWell could I leave our ſport to ſleepe a while.", "Quin. What art thou fallen?", "What subtile Hole is this,", "Whofe mouth is covered with Rude growing Briers,", "Vpon whole leaves are drops of tew ſhed-blood,", "As fresh as mornings dew diſtil'd on flowers,", "A very fatall place it feemes to me:", "Speake Brother haſt thou hurt thee with the fall?", "Mar. Oh Brother,", "With the diſmal ſt object", "That ever eye with fight made heart lament.", "Ar. Now will I fetch the King to finde them heere,", "That he thereby may have a likely gheſſe,", "How theſe were they that made away his brother.", "Exit Aron.", "Mar. Why doſt not comfort me and helpe me out,\nFrom this unhallo'd and blood-ſtained Hole?", "Quin. I am ſturprifed with an uncouch ſeare,", "A chilling ſweat ore-runs my trembling joynts,", "My heart ſuſpeets more then mine eye can ſee.", "Mar. To prove thou haſt a true divining heart,", "Aron and thou looke downe into this den,", "And fee a ſcarefull fight of blood and death.", "Quin. Aron is gone,", "And my compaſſionate heart", "Will not permit mine eyes, once to behold", "The thing whereat it trembles by ſurlife:", "Oh tell me how it is, for nere till now", "Was I a child, to ſeare I know not what.", "Mar. Lord Bafſianus lies embrewed heere,", "All on a heape like to the ſlaughtred Lambe,", "In this deteſted, darke, blood-drinking pit.", "Quin. If it be darke, how doſt thou know't is he?", "Mar. Vpon his blody finger he doth weare", "A precious Ring, that lightens all the Hole:", "Which like a Taper in ſome Monument,", "Doth ſhine upon the dead mans earthly cheekes,", "And ſhewes the ragged intrailes of the pit:", "So pale did ſhine the Moone on Piramus,", "When he by night lay bath'd in Maiden bloods,", "O Brother helpe me with thy fainting hand,", "If ſeare hath made the faint, as mee it hath,", "Out of this ſell devouring receptacle,", "As hatefull as Cocitus miſtle mouth.", "Quin. Reach me thy han, that I may helpe thee out,", {"bbox": [808, 1324, 830, 1341

The Tragedy of Titus An dronicus.

Or wanting strength to doe thee so much good,
I may be pluckt into theswallowing wombe,
Of this deepe pit,poore *Bassianus* grave:

I have no strength to plucke thee to the brinke.
*Mar.* Nor I no strength to climë without thy helpe.

*Quin.* Thy hand once more, I will not looke againe,

Till thou art heere aloft, or I below,

Thou can't not come to me, I come to thee. *Boths fall in.*

*Enter the Emperour, Aren the Moore.*

*Sat.* Along with me, Ile see what hope is heere,
And what he is that now is leapt into i.
Say, who art thou that lately did'ft descend,
Into this gaping hollow of the earth?

*Mar.* The unhappy fonne of old *Andronicus*,
Brought hither in a most unlucky houre,
To find thy brother *Bassianus* dead.

*Sat.* My brother dead I know thou doft but jeft,
He and his Lady both are at the Lodge,
Vpon the North-fide of this pleafant Chafe,
Tis not an houre ſince I left him there.

*Mar.* We know not where you left him all alive,
But out alas, heere have we found him dead.

*Enter Tamora, Andronicus, and Lucius.*

*Tam.* Where is my Lord the King?

*Sat.* Heere *Tamora*, though griev'd with killing griefe.

*Tam.* Where is thy brother *Bassianus*?

*Sat.* Now to the bottome doſt thou ſearch my wound,
Poore *Bassianus* heere lies murthered.

*Tam.* Then all too late I bring this fatall writ,
The complot of this timeſelle 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 miſe to meete him hanſomely,
Sweet huntſman, *Bassianus* tis we meane,
Doe thou ſo much as dig the grave for him,
Thou know'ſt our meaning, looke for thy reward
Among the Nettles at the Elder tree:
Which over-shades the mouth of that fame pit:
Where we decreed to bury *Bassianus*,
Doe this and purchase us thy laſting friends.

*Sat.* Oh *Tamora*, was ever heard the like?
This is the pit, and this the Elder tree,
Looke firſ, if you can finde the huntſman on,
That ſhould have murthered *Bassianus* heere.

*Ar.* My gracious Lord heere is the bag of Gold.

*Sat.* Two of thy whelpes, ſell Curs of bloody kind
Have heere bereſt my brother of his life:

Sirs drag them from the pit unto the prifon,
There let them bide untill we have deſis'd
Some never heard-of tortering paine 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 boone, with teares, not lightly ſhed,
That this ſell fault of my accurſed Sonnes,
Accurſed, if the faults be prou'd in them.

*Sat.* If it be prov'd? you ſee it is apparant,

Who found this Letter, *Tamora* was it you?
*Tam.* Andronicus himselfe did take it up.

*Tit.* I did my Lord,

Yet let me be their baile.

For by my Fathers reverent Tombe I vow

They ſhall be ready at your Highnes will,
To anſwere their ſuſpition with their lives.

*Sat.* Thou ſhalt not baile them, ſee thou follow me:
Some bring the murthered body, ſome the murtherers,
I let them not ſpeake a word, the guilt is plaine,
For by my ſoule, were there worſe end then death,
That end upon them ſhould be executed.

*Tam.* Andronicus I will entreat the King,
Feare not thy Sonnes, they ſhall do well enough.

*Tit.* Come *Lucius* come,

Stay not to talke with them.

*Exeunt.*

*Enter the Empresse Sonnes, with Lavinia, her hands cut off and her tongue cut out, and ravilſt.*

*Dem.* So now goe tell and if thy tongue can ſpeake,
Who t'was that cut thy tongue and ravilſt thee.

*Chi.* Write downe thy mind, bewray thy meaning ſo,
And if thy ſtumpes will let thee play the Scribe.

*Dem.* See how with figures and tokens ſhe can ſcowle.

*Chi.* Goe home,

Call for sweet water, wash thy hands.

*Dem.* She hath no tongue to call, nor hands to wash.

And ſo let's leave her to her filent walkes.

*Chi.* And t'were my caufe, I should goe hang my ſelfe.

*Dem.* If thou had'ſt hands to helpe thee knit the cord.

*Exeunt.*

*Winde Hornes.*

*Enter Marcus from hunting to Lavinia.*

Who is this, my Neece that flies away ſo faſt?

Cofen a word, where is your husband?

If I do dreame, would all my wealth would wake me,
If I do wake, ſome Planet ſtrike me downe,
That I may flumber in eternall ſleepe.

Speake gentle Neece, what ſterne ungente hands

Hath lopt, and hew'd, and madeth thy body bare

Of her two branches, that ſweet Ornaments

Whofe circkling ſhadows, Kings have fought to ſleep in
And might not gaine ſo great a happines

As halſe thy Love: Why does ſt not ſpeake to me?

Alas, a Crimſon river of warme blood,

Like to a bubling fountaine ſtir'd with winde,

Doth rife and fall betweene thy Rofed lips,

Comming and going with thy hony breath.

But ſure ſome *Terens* hath defloured thee,
And leaft thou ſhould'ſt deteſt them, cut thy tongue,

Ah, now thou turn'd away thy face for ſhame:

And notwith ſtanding all this loffe of blood,

As from a Conduit with their iſuing Spouts,

Yet doe thy cheekes looke red as *Titans* face,

Blushing to be encountried with a Cloud,

Shall I ſpeake for thee? ſhall I ſay tis for?

Oh that I knew thy hart, and knew the beaſt

That I might raile at him to eafe my mind.

Sorrow concealed, like an Oven ſtop,

Doth burne the heart to Cinders where it is.

Faire *Philomela* ſhe but loft her tongue,

And in a tedious Sampler ſowed her minde.

But lovely Neece, that meane is cut from thee,

A craftier *Terens* haſt thou met withall,

And he hath cut thate pretty fingers off,

That

69

That could have better fowed then Philomel.
Oh had the monfter feene thofe Lilly hands,
Tremble like Afpen leaves upon a Lute,
And make the filken (frings delight to kiffe them,
He would not then have toucht them for his life,
Or had he heard the heavenly Harmony,
Which that sweet tongue hath made:
He would have dropt his knife and fell afleepe,
As Carcerus at the Trachian Poets feete.
Come, let us goe, and make thy father blinde,
For fuch a fight will blinde a fathers eye.
One hours (forme will drowne the fragrant meades,
What, will whole months of teares thy Fathers eyes?
Do not draw backe, for we will mourne with thee:
Oh could our morning cafe thy mifery.
Ezeonium.

Actus Tertius.

Enter the Iudges and Senatours with Titus two fonnes bound,
paffing oo the Stage to the place of execution, and Titus
going before pleading.

Ti. Heare me grave fathers, noble Tribunes, flay,
For pitty of mine age, whose youth was spent
In dangerous warres, whilft you securely flept:
For all my blood in Romes great quarrell ſhed,
For all the frofty nights that I have watcht,
And for thefe bitter teares, which now you fee,
Filling the aged wrinkles in my cheekes,
Be pitfull to my condemned Sonnes,
Whofe foules are not corrupted as tis thought:
For two and twenty fonnes I never weep,
Because they died in honours lofely bed.
Andronicus lyeth downe, and the Iudges paffe by him.
For thefe, theſe Tribunes, in the duſt I write
My harts deepe languor, and my foules ſad teares:
Let my teares ſtanch the earths dry appetite.
My fonnes fweet blood, will make it ſhame and Bluff:
O earth ! I will be friend thee more with raine
That shall divill from theſe two ancient ruines,
Then youthfull Aprill (hall with all his ſhowres
In fummers drought: He drop upon thee till,
In Winter with warme teares he melt the Snow
And keepe eternal (spring-time on thy face,
So thou refuse to drinke my deare fonnes blood.

Enter Lucius, with his weapon drawne.

Oh reverent Tribunes, oh gentle aged men,
Vbinde my fonnes, rever the doome of death,
And let me fay (that never wept before)
My teares are now prevailing Oratours.
Lu. Oh noble father, you lament in vaine,
The Tribunes heare you not, no man is by,
And you recount your forrowes to a ſtone.
Ti. Ah Lucius for thy brothers let me plead,
Grave Tribunes, once more I intreat of you.
Lu. My gracious Lord, no Tribune heares you ſpeake.
Ti. Why tis no matter man, if they did heare
They would not marke me: oh if they did heare
They would not pitty me.
Therefore I tell my forrowes bootles to the ſtones.

Who though they cannot anſwere my diſtreſſe,
Yet in ſome fort they are better then the Tribunes,
For that they will not intercept my tale;
When I doe weepe, they humbly at my feete
Receive my teares, and ſeeme to weepe with me,
And were they but attired in grave weedeſ,
Rome could afford no Tribune like to theſe.
A ſtone is as loft waxe,
Tribunes more hard then ſlones:
A ſtone is filent, and offendeth not,
And Tribunes with their tongues doome men to death.
But wherefore ſland ſt thou with thy weapon drawne?
Lu. To reſcue my two brothers from their death,
For which attempt the Iudges have pronounc ſt
My everlaſting doome of baniſhment.
Ti. O happy man, they have befriended thee:
Why foolish Lucius, doit thou not perceive
That Rome is but a wildernes of Tigers?
Tigers muſt prey, and Rome affords no prey
But me and mine: how happy art thou then,
From theſe devourers to be baniſhed?
But who comes with our brother Marcus heere?

Enter Marcus and Lavinia.

Mar. Titus, prepare thy noble eyes to weepe,
Or if not ſo, thy noble heart to breake:
I bring confuſing ſorrow to thine age.
Ti. Will it conſume me? Let me fee it then.
Mar. This was thy daughter.
Ti. Why Marcus ſo ſhe is.
Lu. Aye me this object kils me.
Ti. Faint-harted boy, arife and looke upon her,
Speake my Lavinia, what accuſed hand
Hath made thee handleſſe in thy Fathers fight?
What foole hath added water to the Sea?
Or broughtra faggot to bright burning Troy?
My griefe was at the light before thou cam'ſt,
And now like Nylus it diſdaineth bounds:
Give me a fword, Iie chop off my hands too,
For they have fought for Rome, and all in vaine:
And they have nur'ſt this woe,
In feeding life:
In booteſſe prayer have they bene held up,
And they have ſerv'd me to effectleſſe uſe.
Now all the ſervice I require of them,
I that the one will helpe to cut the other:
Tis well Lavinia, that thou haſt no hands,
For hands to do Rome ſervice, is but vaine.
Lu. Speake gentle ſifter, who hath martyr'd theſe
Mar. O that delightfull engine of her thoughts,
That blab'd them with ſuch pleafing eloquence,
I storne from forth that pretty hollow cage,
Where like a fweet mellodious bird it ſung,
Sweet varied notes inchanting every eare.
Luc. Oh fay thou for her,
Who hath done this deed?
Mar. Oh thus I found her ſtraying in the Parke,
Seeking to hide her ſelfe as doth the Deare
That hath recev'd ſome unrecuring wound.
Tit. It was my Deare,
And he that wounded her,
Hath hurt me more, then had he kild me dead:
For now I ſland as one upon a Rocke,
Inviron'd with a wilderdenſe of Sea.
Who makes the waxing tide,
Grow wave by wave,
Expecting

["The Tragedy of Titus Andronicus.", "71", "Then be my passions botromleffe with them.", "Mar. But yet let reafon governe thy lament.", "Tu. If there were reafon for thefe miferies,", "Then into limits could I binde my woes:", "When heaven doth weep,e doth not the earth ore flow?", "If the windes raged, doth not the Sea wax mad,", "Threatning the welkin with his big-(wolne) face?", "And wift thou have a reafon for this coile?", "I am the Sea. Harke how her fighes do blow!", "Shee is the weeping welkin, I the earth:", "Then muft my Sea be moved with her fighes,", "Then muft my earth with her continuall teares,", "Become a deluge: over flow'd and drownd'd:", "For why, my bowels cannot hide her woes;", "But like a drunkard muft I vomit them:", "Thangive me leave, for loofers will have leave,", "To eale their stomacks with their bitter tongues,", "Enter a messenger with two heads and a hand.", "Mef. Worthy Andronicus, ill art thou repaid,", "For that good hand thou fent! It the Emperour.", "Here are the heads of thy two noble fonnes.", "And heeres thy hand in corner to thee ſent backe:", "Thy griefes, their ſports: Thy refolution mockt,", "That wee is me to thinke upon thy woes,", "More then remembrance of my fathers death.", "Mar. Now let hot Ætna coole in Sicily,", "And be my heart an ever-burning hell:", "Theſe miferies are more then may be borne:", "To weepeth with them that weepeth, doth eafe fome deale,", "But ſorrow flouted at, is double death.", "Luè. Ah that this fight should make so deep a wound,", "And yet detefted life not shrinke thereat:", "That ever death should let life beare his name,", "Where life hath no more intereft but to breath.", "Mar. Alas poore hart, that kiffe is comfortleſſe,", "Asfrozen water to a flarved ſnake.", "Tin. When will this fearefull flumber have an end?", "Mar. Now farewell flattery, die Andronicus,", "Thou doſt not flumber, fee thy two ſons heads,", "Thy warlike hands, thy mangled daughter here:", "Thy other banifht fonnes with this deere fight", "Strucke pale and bloodleſſe, and thy brother I,", "Even like a ſfony Image, cold and numme.", "Ah now no more will I, controuse my griefes,", "Rent off thy filver, haire, thy other hand", "Grawing with thy teeth, and be this difmal fight", "The cloting up of our moft wretched eyes:", "Now is a time to ſorme, why art thou ſtill", "Tit. Ha,ha,ha.", "Mar. Why doſt thou laugh it fits not with this houre.", "Tu. Why I have not another teare to ſhed:", "Befides, this ſorrow is an enemy,", "And would uſurpe upon my watry eyes,", "And make them blinde wit tributary teares,", "Then which way ſhall I finde Revenges Cave?", "For theſe two heads doe ſeeme to ſpak to me,", "And threat me, I ſhall never come to bliffe,", "Till all theſe mifchieſes be returned againe,", "Even in their throats that have committed them:", "Come let me fee what tawe I have to does:", "You heavy people, circle me about,", "That I may turne me to each one of you,", "And ſweare unto my foule to right your wrongs.", "The vow is made, come Brother take a head,", "And in this hand the other will I beare.", "Lavinia. thou ſhalt be employd in theſe things:", "Beare thou my hand fweet wench betweene thy teeth:", "As for thee boy, goe get thee from my fight,", "Thou art an Exile, and thou muſt not flay,", "Hie to the Gotheſe, and raife an army there:", "And if you love me, as I thinke you doe,", "Let's kiffe and part, for we have much to doe.", "Manet Lucius.", "Luè. Farewell Andronicus my noble Father.", "The woful ſit man that ever liv'd in Rome:", "Farewell proud Rome, till Lucius come againe,", "Heloves his pledges dearer then his life:", "Farewell Lavinia my noble filter,", "O would thou wert as thou to fore haſt beene,", "But now, nor Lucius nor Lavinia lives.", "But in oblivion and hatefull griefes:", "If Lucius live, he will requit your wrongs,", "And make proud Saturnus and his Emprefle", "Beg at the gates like Tarquin and his Queene.", "Now will I to the Gotheſes and raife a power,", "To be reveng'd on Rome and Saturnine.", "Exit Lucius.", "A Banquet.", "Enter Andronicus, Marcus, Lavinia, and the Boy.", "An. So, so, now ſit, and looke you eate no more.", "Then will preferve juſt so much ſtrength in us", "As will revenge theſe bitter woes of ours.", "Marcus unknit that ſorrow-wreathen knot:", "Thy Neece an I (poore Creatures) want our hands", "And cannot paſſionate our tenfold griefe,", "With ſould ſeddes Armes. This poore right hand of mine,", "Is left to tiranize upon my breast!", "Who when my heart all mad with miferie,", "Beats in this hollow prifon of my fleth,", "Then thus I thumpe it downe.", "Thou Map of woe, that thus doſt talke in lignes,", "When thy poore heart beates with outragions beating,", "Thou canſt not ſtrike it thus to make it ſtill?", "Wound it with fighting girle, kil it with grones:", "Or get ſome little knife betweene thy teeth,", "And juſt againſt thy heart make thou a hole,", "That all the teares that thy poore eyes let fall", "May run into that finke, and foaking in,", "Drowne the lamenting foole, in Sea-falt teares.", "Mar. Fy brother ſy, teach her not thus to lay", "Such violent hands upon her tender life.", "An. How now! Has ſorrow made thee doate already?", "Why Marcus, no man ſhould be mad but I:", "What violent hands can ſhe lay on her life:", "Ah, wherefore doſt thou urge the name of hands,", "To bid Æneas tell the tale twice ore", "How Troy was burnt, and he made miferable?", "O handle not the theame, to talke of hands,", "Leaſt we remember ſtill that we have none,", {"bbox": [462, 1176, 7

["The Tragedy of Titus Andronicus.", "Speechlesse complaint, O I will learne thy thought:", "In thy dumb action, will I be as perfect", "As begging Hemits in their holy prayers.", "Thou halt not figlie nor hold thy fltumps to heaven,", "Nor winke, nor nod, nor kneele, nor make a figne,", "But I (of thefe) will wreft an Alphabet,", "And by till practice, learne to know thy meaning.", "Boy. Good grandfire leave these bitter deepe laments,", "Make my Aunt merry, with some pleafing tale.", "Mar. Alas, the tender boy in paffon mov'd,", "Dorth weepe to fee his grandfires heavineſſe,", "An. Peace tender Sapling, thou art made of teares,", "And teares will quickly melt thy life away.", "Marcus strikes the diſ with a knife.", "What doeſt thou strike at Marcus with thy knife.", "Mar. At that I have kill'd my Lord, a Flye.", "An. Out on the murderour: thou kill'd my heart.", "Mine eyes are clo'd with view of Tirrany:", "A deed of death done on the Innocent", "Becom not Titus brother: get thee gone,", "I fee thou art not for my company:", "Mar. Alas (my Lord) I have but kild a flie.", "An. But? How? if that Flie had a father and mother?", "How would he hang his flender gilded wings", "And buz lamenting doings in the ayer,", "Pooe harmeleſſe Flye,", "That with his pretty buzzing melody,", "Came here to make us merry,", "And thou haſt kill'd him.", "Mar. Pardon me fir,", "It was a blacke illfavour'd Flye,", "Like to the Emprefle Moore, therefore I kild 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 ſelfe, as if it were the Moore,", "Come hither purpofely to poifon me.", "There's for thy ſelfe, and that's for Tamora: Ah firra!", "Yet I thinke we are not brought to low,", "But that betweene us, we can kill a Flye,", "That comes in likenſe of a Cole-blacke Moore.", "Mar. Alas poore man, grieſe ha's ſo wrought on him,\nHe takes falſe shadowes, for true ſubſtances.", "And: Come, take away: Lavinia, goe with me,", "Ile to thy cloſſet, and goe read with thee", "Sad ſtories, chanced in the times of old.", "Come boy, and goe with me, thy fight is young,", "And thou haliſt read, when mine begin to dazell. Exemn.", "## Actus Quartus.", "Enter young Lucius and Lavinia running after him, and the\nBoy flies from her with his bookeſ under his armes.", "Enter Titus and Marcus.", "Boy. Helpe Grandſer helpe, my Aunt Lavinia,", "Followes me every where I know not why.", "Good Vncle Marcus ſee how wift ſhe comes,", "Alas wweet Aunt, I know not what you meane.", "Mar. Stand by me. Lucius, does not ſeare thy Aunt.", "Tit. She loves thee boy too well to doe thee harme", "Boy. I when my father was in Rome, ſhe did.", "Ma. What means my Neece Lavinia by theſe figments?", "Ti. Feare not Lucius, ſome what doth the meane:", "See Lucius ſee, how much the makes of thee:", "Some whither would ſhe have thee go with her.", "Alb boy, Cornelia never with more care", "Read to her fonnes; then ſhe hath read to thee,", "Sweet Poetry, and Tullies Oratour:", "Canſt thou not gſeſe wherefore ſhe plies thee thus?", "Boy. My Lord I know not I, nor can I gſeſe,", "Vnſleſſe ſome fit or frency do poſſeſſe her.", "For I have heard my Grandſier ſay full oft,", "Extremity of grieſes would make men mad.", "And I have read that Hecuba of Troy,", "Ran mad through the row, that made me to ſcare,", "Although my Lord, I know my noble Aunt,", "Loues me as deare as ere my mother did,", "And would not but in fury fright my youth,", "Which made me downe to throw my bookeſ, and flie", "Caufles perhaps, but pardon me wweet Aunt,", "And Madam, if my Vncle Marcus goe,", "I will moſt willingly attend your Ladyship,", "Mar. Lucius I will.", "Ti. How now Lavinia? Marcell what means this?", "Some booke there is that ſhe deſires to ſee,", "Which is it girle of the ſe? Open them boy,", "But thou art deeper read and better skild,", "Come and take choyſe of all my Library,", "And fo beguile thy ſorrow, till the heavens", "Reveale the damn'd contriver of this deed:", "What booke?", "Why lifts ſhe up her armes in ſequence thus?", "Mar. I think the ſmeanes that there was more then one", "Confederate in the fact, I more there was:", "Or eſſe to heaven ſhe heaves them to revenge.", "Tit. Lucius what booke is that ſhe toſeth ſo?", "Boy. Grandſer tis Ovids Metamorphofis,", "My mother gave it me,", "Mar. For love of her that's gone,", "Perhaps ſhe could it from among the reſt.", "Tit. Soft, so bafely ſhe turns the leaves.", "Helpe her, what would ſhe finde? Lavinia ſhall I read?", "This is the tragicke tale of Philomel?", "And treates of Terens treaſon and his ſ武器", "And rape I ſeare was roote of thine annoy.", "Mar. See brother ſee, note how the quotes the leaves", "Tit. Lavinia, wert thou thus ſurpriz'd wift girle,", "Ravifht and wrong'd as Philomela was?", "Forc'd in the ruthleſſe, vaſt, and gloomy woods?", "See, ſee, I ſuch a place there is where we did hant,", "(O had we never, never hunted there)", "Patern'd by that the Poet heere deſcribes,", "By nature made for murthers and for rapes.", "Mar. O Why ſhould nature build ſo foule a den,", "Vnſleſſe the Gods delight in tragedies?", "Ti. Give figments wift girle, for heere are none but friends", "What Romaine Lord it was durſt do the deed?", "Or flunke not Saturnine, as Twain quin erſt,", "That left the Campe to ſinne in Lucrece bed.", "Mar. Sit downe wift Neece, brother ſit downe by me,\nApollo, Pallas, love, or Mercury,", {"bbox": [724, 1226, 981, 1247], "category": "Text

This after me, when I have writ my name,
Without the helpe of any hand at all.
Carst be that heart that force it us to this shift:
Write thou good Neece, and heere display at last,
What God will have difcovered for revenge,
Heaven guide thy pen to print thy forrowes plaine.
That we may know the Traytors and the truth.

She takes the flaffe in her mouth, and guidesit with her
Stumps and writes.

Tit. Oh doe ye read my Lord what she hath writ?
Suppum, Chiron, Demetrius.

Mar. What, what, the luftfull fonnes of Tamora,
Performers of this hainous bloody deed ?

Tit. Magni Dominator poli.

Tam lontus ausis fceler ! tam lontus vides !

Mar. Oh calme thee gentle Lord : Although I know
There is enough written upon this earth,
To flirre a mutiny in the mildeft thoughts,
And arme the mindes of infants to excleimes.

My Lord kneele downe with me: Lavinia kneele,
And kneele fweet boy, the Romaine Hectors hope,
And fweare with me, as with the wofull Feere.
And father of that chaft difhonoured Dame,
Lord Junius Brutus fweare for Lucrece rape,
That we will profecute (by good advife)

Mortall revenge upon thefetraytorous Gothes,
And fee their blood, or dye with this reproach. 1

Tit. Is fure enough, and you knew how.

But if you hunt thefe Beare-whelpes, then beware
The Dam will wake, and if she winde you once,
Shees with the Lyon deeply fill in league.

And lulls him whilft the playeth on her backe,
And when he sleepes will he doe the wfe lift.
You area young huntſman Marcus, let it alone : ]

And come, I will goe get a leafe of braſſe,
And with a Gad of fleele will write theſe words,

And lay it by: the angry Northerne winde
Will blow theſe fands like Sibels leaves abroad,

And wherees your leſſon then. Boy what fay you ?

Boy. I fay my Lord, that if I were a man,
Their mothers bed-chamber ſhould not be ſafe,
For theſe bad bond-men to the yoake of Rome.

Mar. I that's my boy, thy father hath full oft,
For his ungrateful country done the like.

Boy. And Vncle fo will I, and if I live.

Tit. Come goe with me into mine Armorys
Lucius Ile fit thee, and withall, my boy

Shall carry from me to the Emprefle fonnes,
Prefents that I intend to fend them both,

Come, come, thou'lt do thy meſſage, wilt thou not ?
Boy. I with my dagger in their boſome, Grandſire :

Tit. No boy not fo, Ile teach thee another course,

Lavinia come, Marcus looke to my houſe,

Lucius and Ile goe brave it at the Court,
I marry will we ſir, and weele be waited on.

Mar. O heavens ! Can you heare a good man grone
And not relent, or not compafhon him ?

Marcus attend him in his extaſſe,

That hath more ſcars of ſorrow in his heart,
Then foe-mens markes upon his batter'd fieldie,

But yet ſo juſt, that he will not revenge,
Revenge the heavens for old Andronicus.

Enter Aaron, Chiron and Demetrius at one dore: and as
another dore young Lucius and another, with a bus-
dle of weapons, and verſes writ upon them.

Chi. Demetrius heeres the ſonne of Lucius,
He hath ſome meſſage to deliver us.

Aron. I fome mad meſſage from my mad Grandfather.

Boy. My Lords, with all the humbleneſſe I may,

I greete your honours from Andronicus,

And pray the Romane gods confound you both.

Deme. Gramercy lovely Lucius, what's the newes?

Boy. For villaines markt with rape. May it pleafe you,
My Grandſire well adviſ'd hath ſent by me,
The goodlieſt weapons of his Armory,

To gratiſe your honourable youth,

The hope of Rome, for he bad me ſay :

And fo I doeand with his gifts prefent

Your Lordſhips, when ever you have need,

You may be armed and appointed well,

And fo I leave you both : like bloody villaines.

Exit.

Deme. What's heere ? a ſcrole, and written round about?
Lets fee. 1

Integer vite ſee erisque purus, non egit mauris jaculis nec ar-
cu.

Chr. O tis a verſe in Horace, I know it well.
I read it in the Grammer long agoe.

Moore. I juſt, a verſe in Horace : right, you have it,
Now what a thing it is to be an Aſſe ?

Heeres no ſound jeſt, th'old man hath found their guilt,
And fends the weapons wrapt about with lines,

That wound (beyond their feeling) to the quicke :

But were our witty Emprefle well a foot,

She would applaud Andronicus conceit :

But let her reſt, in her unreſt a while.

And now young Lords, was't not a happy ſtarr'e

Led us to Rome ſtrangers, and more then ſo ;

Captives, to be advanced to this height ?

It did me good before the Pallace gate,

To brave the Tribune in his brothers hearing.

Deme. But me more good, to fee ſo greata Lord

Bafely infinuate, and ſend us gifts.

Moore. Had he not reaſon Lord Demetrius ?

Did you not uſe his daughter very friendly ?

Deme. I would we had a thouſand Romane Dames

At fuch a bay, by turne to ſerve out luſt.

Chir. A chari table wifh, and full of love.

Moore. Heere lacke's but you mother for ſay, Amen.

Chir. And that would ſhe for twenty thouſand more.

Deme. Come, let us goe, and pray to all the gods

For our beloved mother in her paines.

Moore. Pray to the devils, the gods have given us over.
Flourish.

Dem. Why doe the Emperors trumpets flourith thus?

Chir. Belike for joy the Emperour hath a ſonne.

Deme. Soft, who comes here ?

Enter Nurſe with a blacke a Moore child.

Nurſe. Good morrow Lords :

O tell me, did you ſee Aaron the Moore ?

Aaron. Well, more or leſſe, or ne're a whit at all,
Heere Aaron is, and what with Aaron now ?

Nurſe. Oh gentle Aaron, we are all undone.

Now helpe, or woe betide thee evermore.

Aaron. Why, what a catterwalling doſt thou keepe ?

What doſt thou wrap and fumble in thine armes ?

Nurſe. O that which I would hide from heavens eye,
Our Emprefle ſhame, and flately Romes diſgrace,

She is delivered Lords, ſhe is delivered.

Aaron. To whom ?

Nurſe. I meane ſhe is brought a bed ?

Aaron. Well God give her good reſt.

gg

What

["The Tragedy of Titus Andronicus.", "74", "What hath he fent her ?", "Nurſe. A devill.", "Aaron. Why then ſhe is the devil's Dam: a joyfull ilſue.", "Nur. A joyleſſe, diſmall, blacke and, forrow full ilſue,", "Heere is the babe as loathome as a toad,\nAmongst the faireſt breeders of our clime,", "The Emprefle fends it theſe, thy ſtampe, thy ſeale,", "And bids theſe chriſten it with thy daggers point.", "Aaron. Out you whore, is blacke to bafe a hue ?", "Sweet blowſe, you are a beautious bloſſome ſure.", "Demes. Villaine what haſt thou done ?", "Aaron. That which thou canſt not undoe.", "Chir. Thou haſt undoe your mother.", "Deme. And therein helſh dog, thou haſt undone,", "Woe to her chance, and damn'd Iar loathed choyce,", "Accurſt the off-spring of ſo foule a fiend.", "Chir. It ſhall not live.", "Aaron. It ſhall not dye.", "Nurſe. Aaron it muſt, the mother will it ſo.", "Aaron. What, muſt it Nurſe ? Then let no man but I", "Doe execution on my fleſh and blood.", "Deme. Ile broach the Tadpole on my Rapiers point :", "Nurſe. give it me, my ſword ſhall ſoone diſpatch it.", "Aaron. Sooner this ſword ſhall plough thy bowels up.", "Stay murtherous villaines, will you kill your brother ?", "Now by the burning Tapers of the skye,", "That ſh'one ſo brightly when this Boy was got,", "He dies upon my Semitars ſharpe point,", "That touches this my firſt borne ſonne and heire.", "I tell you young-lings, not Enceladus", "With all his threatening band of Typhons broode,", "Nor great Alcides, nor the god of Warre,", "Shall ceaze thisprey out of his fathers hands :", "What, what, ye fanguine ſhallow hearted Boyes,", "Ye white-limb'd walls, ye Ale-houſe painted ſignes,", "Cole-blacke is better then another hue :", "In that it ſcornesto beare another hue :", "For all the water in the Ocean,", "Can never turne the Swans blacke legs to write,", "Although ſhe lave them hourly in the flood :", "Tell the Emprefle from me, I am of age", "To keepe mine owne, excufe it how ſhe can.", "Deme. Wilt thou betray thy noble miſtris thus ?", "Aaron. My miſtris is my miſtris; this my ſelfe,", "The vigour, and the picture of my youth :", "This, before all the world doe I preferre,", "This mauger all the world will I keepe ſafe,", "Or ſome of you ſhall finake for it in Rome.", "Deme. By this our mother is for ever ſham'd.", "Chir. Rome will deſpife her for this foule eſcape.", "Nur. The Emperour in his rage will doome her death", "Chir. I bluſh to thinke upon this ignominy.", "Aaron. Why ther's the privilege your beauty beares:", "Fye trecherous hue, that will betray with bluſhing", "The cloſe enacts and counſels of the heart:", "Heres a young Lad fram'd of another leere,", "Looke how the blacke ſlave ſmiles upon the father ;", "As who should ſay, old Lad I am thine owne.", "He is your brother Lords, ſenſibly ſed", "Of that ſelfe blood that firſt gave life to you,", "And from that wombe where you imprifoned were", "He is inſranchiſed and come to light :", "Nay he is your brother by the ſurer ſide,", "Although my ſeale be ſtamped in his face.", "Nurſe. Aaron what ſhall I ſay unto the Emprefle ?", "Dem. Advife thee Aaron, what is to be done,", "And we will all ſubſcribe to thy advife :", "Save thou the child, ſo we may all be ſafe.", "Aaron. Then ſit we downe and let us all confult.", "My ſonne and I will have the winde of you :", "Keepe there, now talke at pleafure of your safety.", "Dem. How many women ſaw this child of his ?", "Aaron. Why ſo brave Lords, when we all joyne in\nI am a Lambe: but if you brave the Moore,\nThe chafed Bore, the mountainke Lyoneſſe,\nThe Ocean ſwellis not ſo at Aaron ſtormes :\nBut ſay againe, how many ſaw the child?", "Nurſe. Cornelia, the midwife, and my ſelfe,", "And none eſſe but the delivered Emprefle.", "Aaron. The Emprefle, the Midwife, and your ſelfe,", "Two may keepe confell, when the third's away :", "Goe to the Emprefle, tell her this I faid,", "He kils her.\nWeeke, weeke, ſo cries a Pigge prepared to this ſpit.", "Dem. What mean't thou Aaron ?", "Wherefore did't thou this?", "Aaron. O Lord fir, 'tis a deed of pollicy ?", "Shall ſhe live to betray this guilt of ours :", "A long tongu'd babling Goſlip ? No Lords no :", "And now be it knowne to you my full intent.", "Not farre, one Mulitius my Country-man", "His wife but yefternight was brought to bed,", "His child is like to her, faire as you are :", "Goe packe with him, and give the mother gold,", "And tell them both the circumſtance of all,", "And how by this their Child ſhall be advanc'd,", "And be received for the Emperours heyre,", "And ſubſtituted in the place of mine,", "To calme thistempel't whirling in the Court,", "And let the Emperour dandle him for his owne.", "Harke ye Lords, ye fee I have given her phyſicke,", "And you muſt needs beſlow her ſunerall,", "The fields are neere, and you are gallant Groomes;", "This done, ſee that you take no longer dayes", "But ſend the Midwife prefentely to me.", "The Midwife and the Nurſe well madeaway,", "Then let the Ladies tattle what they pleaſe.", "Chir. Aaron I ſee thou wilt not truſt the ſyre with ſe-", "Dem. For this care of Tamora, (crets,", "Her ſelfe, and hers are highly bound to thee. Exeunt.", "Aaron. Now to the Gothes, as ſwift as Swallow flies,", "There to diſpoe this treafure in mine armes,", "And secreſt to greete the Emprefle friends :", "Come on you thick-lipt-slave, Ile beare you hence,", "For it is you that puts us to our ſhifts :", "Ile make you feed on berries, and on roots,", "And feed on curds and way, and ſucke the Goate,", "And cabbin in a Cave, and bring you up", "To be a warriour, and command a Campe. Exit.", {"bbox": [713, 1107, 1067, 11

["The Tragedy of Titus Andronicus.", "Tis you maſt dig with Mattocke, and with Spade,\nAnd pierce the inmost Center of the earth:\nThen when you come to Plutoe's Region;", "Then when you come to Plutoe's Region;\nI pray you deliver him this petition,\nTell him it is for juſtice, and for aide,", "Tell him it is for justice, and for aide,\nAnd that it comes from old Andronicus,\nShaken with forrowes in ungrateful Rome.", "And that it comes from old Andronicus,\nShaken with forrowes in ungrateful Rome.\nAh Rome ! well, well, I made thee miferable,\nWhat time I threw the peoples suſfrages\nOn him that thus doth tyrannize ore me.", "On him that thus doth tyrannize ore me.\nGoe get you gone, and pray be careful all,\nAnd leave you not a man of warre unfarcht,", "And leave you not a man of warre unfarcht,\nThis wicked Emperour may have ſhipt her hence,\nAnd kinſmen then we may goe pipe for juſtice.", "And kinſmen then we may goe pipe for juſtice.\nMarc. O Publius is not this a heavy cafe", "Marc. O Publius is not this a heavy cafe\nTofee thy Noble Vncle thus diſtract ?", "Tofee thy Noble Vncle thus diftract ?\nPub. Therefore my Lord it highly us concernes,", "Pub. Therefore my Lord it highly us concernes,\nBy day and might attend him carefully:\nAnd feede his humour kindely as we may,", "And feede his humour kindely as we may,\nTill time beget ſome careful remedy.", "Till time beget ſome careful remedy.\nMarc. Kinſmen, his forrowes are paſt remedy.\nJoyne with the Gothes, and with revengefull warre,\nTake wreake on Rome for this ingratitude,\nAnd vengeance on the Traytor Saturnine.", "And vengeance on the Traytor Saturnine.\nTis Publius how now ? how now my maſters ?\nWhat have you met with her?", "What have you met with her?\nPubl. No my good Lord, but Pluto ſends you word,\nIf you will have revenge from hell you ſhall,\nMarry for juſtice he is to ſ employ'd,", "Marry for justice he is to employ'd,\nHe thinkes with love in heaven, or ſome where else:\nSo that perſence you muſt needs ſtay a time.", "He thinkes with love in heaven, or ſome where else,\nTis. He doth me wrong to feed me with delays,\nIle dive into the burning Lake below,", "He doth me wrong to feed me with delays,\nAnd pull her out of Acheron by the heeles,", "And pull her out of Acheron by the heeles,\nMarcus we are but thrubs, no Cedars we,\nNobig-bon'd-men. fram'd of the Cyclops ſize,", "Nobig-bon'd-men. fram'd of the Cyclops ſize,\nBut mettall Marcus, ſeele to the very backe,", "But mettall Marcus, ſeele to the very backe,\nYet wrung with wrongs more then our backe can beare:\nAnd fifth there's no juſtice in earth nor hell,", "And fifth there's no justice in earth nor hell,\nWe will ſollicite heaven, and move the gods\nTo ſend downe Inſtice for to wreake our wrongs:", "To ſend downe Inſtice for to wreake our wrongs:\nCome to this gear, you are a good Archer Marcus.", "To ſend downe Inſtice for to wreake our wrongs:\nHe gives them the Arrowes.", "He gives them the Arrowes.\nAd lovem, that's for you: here ad Apollonem,", "Ad Martem, that's for my ſelfe,", "Ad Martem, that's for my ſelfe,\nHeere Boy to Pallas, heere to Mercury,", "Heere Boy to Pallas, heere to Mercury,\nTo Saturnine, to Caius, not to Saturnine,", "To Saturnine, to Caius, not to Saturnine,\nYou are wcreas good to ſhooſe againſt the winde.", "To it Boy, Marcus looke when I bid :", "To it Boy, Marcus looke when I bid :", "To it Boy, Marcus looke when I bid :\nOf my word, I have written to effect,\nTheres not a god left unſollicited.", "Of my word, I have written to effect,\nTheres not a god left unſollicited.\nMarc. Kinſmen, ſhoot all your ſhaſts into the Court,\nWe will aſſict the Emperour in his pride.", "Marc. Now maſters draw, Oh well ſaid Lucius:\nGood boy in Virgoes lap, give it Pallas.", "Good boy in Virgoes lap, give it Pallas.\nMarc. My Lord, I ay me a Mile beyond the Moone,\nYour letter is with Iupiter by this.", "Marc. My Lord, I ay me a Mile beyond the Moone,\nYour letter is with Iupiter by this.\nTis. Ha, ha, Publius, Publius, what haſt thou done ?\nSee fee, thou haſt thot off one of Taurus hornes.", "Tis. This was the ſport my Lord, when Publius ſhot,\nThe Bull being gal'd, gave Aries ſuch a knocke,\nThat downe fell both the Rams hornes in the Court,\nAnd who should finde them but the Empreſſe villaine:\nShe laught, and told the Moore he ſhould not chooſe\nBut give them to his Maſher for a preſent.", "Tis. Why there it goes, God give your Lordſhip joy.", "Enter the Clowne with a baski and two Pigeons.\nTit. Newes, newes, from heaven.", "Tit. Newes, newes, from heaven.\nMarcus the poaſt is come.", "Marcus the poaſt is come.\nSirrah, what tydings ? have you any letters ?", "Sirrah, what tydings ? have you any letters ?\nShall I have Inſtice, what fayes Iupiter ?", "Shall I have Inſtice, what fayes Iupiter ?\nClow. Ho the libbetmaker, he fayes that he hath ta-\nken them downe againe, for the man muſt not be hang'd\ntill the next weeke.", "Shall I have Inſtice, what fayes Iupiter ?\nTit. But what fayes Iupiter I aske thee?", "Tit. But what fayes Iupiter I aske thee?\nClow. Alas fir I know not Iupiter :", "Clow. Alas fir I know not Iupiter :\nI never dranke with him in all my life.", "I never dranke with him in all my life.\nTit. Why villaine art not thou the Carrier ?", "Tit. Why villaine art not thou the Carrier ?\nClow. I of my Pigeons fir, nothing else.", "Clow. I of my Pigeons fir, nothing else.\nTit. Why, didſt thou not come from heaven ?", "Tit. Why, didſt thou not come from heaven ?\nClow. From heaven ? Alas fir, I never came there,", "Clow. From heaven ? Alas fir, I never came there,\nGod forbid I ſhould be ſo bold, to preſſe to heaven in my\nyoung dayes. Why I am going with my pigeons to the\nTribunall Plebs, to take up a matter of brawle, betwixt\nmy Vncle, and one of the Emperials men.", "God forbid I ſhould be ſo bold, to preſſe to heaven in my\nyoung dayes. Why I am going with my pigeons to the\nTribunall Plebs, to take up a matter of brawle, betwixt\nmy Vncle, and one of the Emperials men.\nMar. Why fir, that is as fit as can be to ſerve for your\nOration, and let him deliver the Pigeions to the Emperour\nfrom you.", "Mar. Why fir, that is as fit as can be to ſerve for your\nOration, and let him deliver the Pigeons to the Emperour\nfrom you.\nTit. Tell me, can you deliver an Oration to the Em-\nperour with a Grace?", "Tit. Tell me, can you deliver an Oration to the Em-\nperour with a Grace?\nClow. Nay truely fir, I could never ſay grace in all my\nlife.", "Tit. Sirrah come hither, make no more adoe,", "Tit. Sirrah come hither, make no more adoe,\nBut give your Pigeons to the Emperour.", "But give your Pigeons to the Emperour.\nBy me thou haſt have juſtice at his hands.", "By me thou haſt have juſtice at his hands.\nHold, hold, meane while hers money for thy charges.", "Hold, hold, meane while hers money for thy charges.\nGive me a pen and inke.", "Give me a pen and inke.\nSirrah, can you with a Grace deliver a Supplication?", "Sirrah, can you with a Grace deliver a Supplication?\nClow. I fir.", "Clow. I fir.\nTit. Then here is a Supplication for you, and when\nyou come to him, at the firſt approach you muſt kneele,\nthen kiffe his foote, then deliver up your Pigeons, and\nthen looke for your reward. He be at hand fir, ſee you do\nit bravely.", "Tit. I warrant you fir, let me alone.", "Tit. I warrant you fir, let me alone.\nTis. Sirrah haſt thou a knife ? Come let me ſee it.", "Tis. I warrant you fir, let me alone.\nHeere Marcus fold it in the Oration,", "Heere Marcus fold it in the Oration,\nFor thou haſt made it like an humble Suppiant,", "For thou haſt made it like an humble Suppiant,\nAnd when thou haſt given it the Emperour,", "And when thou haſt given it the Emperour,\nKnocke at my dore, and tell me what he fayes.", "Knocke at my dore, and tell me what he fayes.\nClow. God be with you fir, I will.", "Knocke at my dore, and tell me what he fayes.\nTit. Come Marcus let us goe, Publius follow me.", "Tit. Come Marcus let us goe, Publius follow me.\nExeunt.", "Exeunt.\nEnter Emperour and Empreſſe, and her two ſonnes, the\nEmperour brings the Arrowes in his hand\nthat Titus (boot at him.", "Satur. Why Lords,", "Satur. Why Lords,\nWhat wrongs are theſe ? was ever ſee ne", "What wrongs are theſe ? was ever ſee ne\nAn Emperour in Rome thus overborne,\nTroubled, Confronted thus, and for the extent", "Troubled, Confronted thus, and for the extent\nOf equal juſtice, uſ'd in ſuch contempt?", "Of equal juſtice, uſ'd in ſuch contempt?\nMy Lords, you know the mightfull Gods", "My Lords, you know the mightfull Gods\n(How ever theſe diſturbers of our peace\nBuz in the peoples eares) there nought hath paſſ,\nBut even with law againſt the willfull Sonnes", "But even with law againſt the willfull Sonnes\nOf old Andronicus. And what and if", "Of old Andronicus. And what and if\nHis forrowes have ſo overwhelm'd his wits,", "His forrowes have ſo overwhelm'd his wits,\nShall we be thus aſſled in his wreakes,", "His fits, his frenzy, and his bitterneſſ ?", "His fits, his frenzy, and his bitterneſſ ?\nAnd now he writes to heaven for his redreſſe.", {"bbox": [476, 1299, 728,

["The Tragedy of Titus Andronicus.", "77", "And as I carnelly did fixe mine eye", "Upon the wafted building, fuddainely", "I heard a child cry underneath a wall:", "I made unto the noife, when foone I heard,", "The crying babe control'd with this difcour塞:", "Peace Tawny flave, halfe me, and halfe thy Dam,", "Did not thy Hue bewray whofe brat thou art?", "Had nature lent thee, but thy Mothers looke.", "Villaine thou mightst have beene an Emperour.", "But where the Bull and Cow are both milk-white,", "They never doe beget a cole-blacke-Calfe:", "Peace, villaine peace, even thus he rates the babe,", "For I muft beare thee to a truely Goth,", "Who when he knowest thou art the Emprefle babe,", "Will hold the clearely for thy Mothers fake.", "With this, my weapon drawne I rufht upon him,", "Surpriz'd him fuddainely, and brought hi n hither", "Toufie, as you thinke needfull of the man.", "Luci. Oh worthy Goth, this is the incarnate devill,", "That rob'd Andronicus of his good hand:", "This is the Pearle that pleaf'd your Emprefle eye,", "And heres the Bafe Fruit of his burning luft.", "Say wall-ey'd flave, whether wouldt thou convay", "This growing Image of thy fiend-like face?", "Why doft not fpeake ? what deafe ? no ! Not a word ?", "A halter Souldiers, hang him on this Tree,", "And by hisfide his Fruite of Baftardy.", "Aaron. Touch not the Boy, he is of Royall blood,", "Luci. Too like the Syre for ever being good.", "Firft bang the Child that he may fee it Iprally,", "A fight to vexe the Father's foule withall.", "Aaron. Get me a Ladder Lucius, fa ve the Child,", "And bare it from me to the Emprefle :", "If thou doeth this, Ile flew thee wondrous things,", "That highly may advantage thee to heare;", "If thou wift not, or fall what may befall,", "Ile fpeak no more : but vengeance not you all.", "Luci. Say on, and if it pleafe me which thou fpeak't,", "Thy child fhall live, and I will fee it Nourish't.", "Aaron. And if it pleafe thee ? why aflure thee Lucius.", "I will vexe thy foule to heare what I haft fpeake:", "For I muft talke of Murthers, Rapes, and Maflacres,", "Aids of Blacke-night, abhominable Deeds,", "Complots of Mifchefe, Treafon, Villaines", "Ruthfull to heare, yet pittionfly perform'd,", "And this fhall all be buried by my death,", "Voleſſe thou ſware to me my Child ſhall live.", "Luc. Tell on thy minde,", "Ifay thy Child ſhall live.", "Aaron. Sweare that he ſhall, and then I will begin.", "Luci. Who should I ſware by?", "Thou beleeveft no God,", "That graunted, how can't thou beleeve an oath ?", "Aaron. What if I doe not, as indeed I doe not,", "Yet for I know thou art Religious,", "And haft a thing within thee, called Conſcience,", "With twenty Popifh trickes and Ceremonies,", "Which I have feene thee carefull to obſerve:", "Therefore I urge thy oath, for that I know", "An Ideot holds his Bauble for a god,", "And keepeſe the oath which by that god he ſweares,", "To that lie urge him : therefore thou ſhalt vow", "By that fame god, what god ſo fo ere it be", "That thou adoreſt, and haſt in reverence,", "To ſave my Boy, to nourifh and bring him up,", "Ore eſſe I will difcover nought to thee.", "Luci. Even by my god I ſware to thee I will,", "Aaron. Firſt know thou,", "I begot him on thy Emprefle.", "Luci. Oh moſt infatiate luxurious woman !", "Aaron. Tut Lucius, this was but a deed of Charity,", "To that which thou haſt heare of me anon,", "Twas her two Sonnes that murdered Baffianus,", "They cut thy Sifters tongue, and ravifht her,", "And cut her hands off, and trim'd her as thou fawſt.", "Luci. Oh deteſable villaine !", "Callſt thou that Trimming ?", "Aaron. Why ſhe was waſht, and cut, and trim'd,", "And twas trim ſport for them that had the doing of it.", "Luci. Oh barbarous beaſtly villaines like thy ſelfe !", "Aaron. Indeed, I was their Tutor to inſtruct them,", "That Codding ſpirit had they from their Mother,", "As ſure a Card as ever wonne the Set :", "That bloody mind I thinke they learn'd of me,", "As true a Dog as ever fought at head.", "Well, let my Deeds be witneſſe 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 Queene, and her two Sonnes,", "And what not done, that thou haſt caſe to rue,", "Wherein I had no ſtroke of Mifcheife in it.", "I plaid the Cheater for thy Fathers hand,", "And when I had it, drew my ſelfe 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 Sonnes heads,", "Beheld his teares, and laught ſo heartily,", "That both mine eyes were rainy like to his:", "And when I told the Emprefle of this ſport,", "She founded almoſt at my pleafing tale,", "And for my tydings, gave me twenty kiffes.", "Goth. What can't thou ſay all this, and never blvſh ?", "Aaron. I, like a blacke Dogge, as the faying is.", "Luc. Art thou not forry for theſe hainous deeds ?", "Aaron. I, that I had not done a thouſand more.", "Even now I curſe the day, and yet I thinke", "Few come within the compaſſe of my curſe,", "Wherein I did not ſome Notorious ill,", "As kill a man, or eſſe devife his death,", "Rauiſh a Maid, or plot the way to doe it,", "Accufe ſome innocent, and forſwear me ſelfe,", "Set deadly Enmity betweene two Friends,", "Make poore mens Cattell breake their neckes,", "Set fire on Barnes and Hayſackes in the night,", "And bid the Owners quench them with their teares:", "Oft have I dig'd up dead men from their graves,", {"bbox": [462, 1064, 801, 1088], "category": "Text", "text":

But to torment you with my bitter tongue.

Luc. Sirs stop his mouth, and let him speake no more.

Enter Emilius.

Goth. My Lord, there is a Meffenger from Rome
Defires to be admitted to your preference.

Luc. Let him come neere.

Welcome Emilius, what's the newes from Rome?

Emi. Lord Lucius, and you Princes of the Gothes,
The Romaine Emperour greets you all by me,
And for he underfands you are in Armes,
He-craves a partly at your Fathers houfe,
Willing you to demand your Hoffages,
And they fhall be immediately delivered.

Goth. What fayes our Generall?

Luc. Emilius, let the Emperour give his pledges
Vnto my Father, and my Vncle Marcus,
And we will come: march away.

Exequem.

Enter Tamora, and her two Sonnes difguis'd.

Tam. Thus in this strange, and fad Habillaments,
I will encounter with Andronicus,
And fay, I am Revenge ſent from below,
To joyne with him and right his hainous wrongs:
Knocke at his ſtudy where they ſay he keepes,
To ruminate ftrange plots of dire Revenge,
Tell him Revenge is come to joyne with him,
And worke conſuion on his Enemies.

They knocke and Titus opens his ſtudy dore.

Tit. Who doth moleſt my Contemplation ?
Is it your trick to make me ope the dore,
That ſo my fad decrees may flye away,
And all my ſtudy be to no effect?
You are deceiv'd, for what I meane to doe,
See here in bloody lines I have fet downe :
And what is written ſhall be executed.

Tam. Titus, I am come to talke with thee.

Tit. No not a word: how can I grace my talke,
Wanting a hand to give it aflion,
Thou hault the ods of me, therefore no more.

Tam. If thou did't know me,
Thou would't talke with me.

Tit. I am not mad, I know thee well enough,
Witneſſe this wretched ſtump,
Witneſſe theſe crimſon lines,
Witneſſe theſe Trenches made by griefe and care,
Witneſſe the tyring day, and heavy night,
Witneſſe all ſorrow, that I know thee well
For our proud Emprefle, Mighty Tamora :
Is not thy comming for my other hand?

Tam. Know thou ſad man, I am not Tamora,
She is thy Enemy, and I thy friend,
I am Revenge ſent from th.infernall Kindome,
To eafe the gnawing Vulture of thy mind,
By working wreakefull vengeance on thy Focs :
Come downe and welcome me to this worlds light,
Conferre with me of Murder and of Death,
There's not a hollow Cave or lurking place,
No Vafe obſurity, or Mifty vale,
Where bloody Murther or detefted Rape,
Can couch for feare, but I will find them out,
And in their eares tell them my dreadfull name,
Revenge, which makes the foule offenders quake.

Tit. Art thou Revenge ? and art thou ſent to me,
To be a torment to mine Enemies ?

Tam. I am, therefore come downe and welcome me.

Tit. Doe me ſome ſervicce I come to thee:
Loe by thy ſide where Rape and Murder flands,
Now give ſome ſurance that thou art Revenge,
Stab them, or teare them on thy Chariot wheeles,
And then Ile come and be thy Waggoner.
And whirle along with thee about the Globes.
Provide the two proper Palfries, blacke as let,
To hale thy vengefull Waggon ſwift away,
And find out Murder in their guilty Caves.
And when thy Car is loaden with their heads,
I will diſmount, and by the Waggon wheelc,
Trot like a ſervile footeman all day long,
Even from Hiperions riling in the Eaſt,
Vntill his very downeſall in the Sea.
And day by day Ile doe this heavy raske,
Sothou deſtroy Rapine and Murder there.

Tam. I hafe are my Minifiers, and come with me.

Tit. Are they thy Minifiers, what are they called'd?

Tam. Rapine and Murder, therefore called to,
Caufe they take vengeance of ſuch kind of men.

Tit. Good Lord how like the Emprefle Sons they are,
And you the Emprefle : But we worldly men,
Have miſerable mad miftaking eyes :
Oh ſwet Revenge, now doe I come to thee,
And if one armes imbracement will content thee,
I will imbrace thee in it by and by.

Tam. This cloſing with him, fits his Lunacy,
What ere I ſorge to feede his braine-ficke fits,
Doe you uphold, and maintaine in your ſpeeches,
For now he firmly takes me for Revenge,
And being Credulous in this mad thought,
Ile make him ſend for Lucius his Sonne,
And whilft I at a Banquet hold him ſure,
Ile find ſome cunning præſtife out of hand
To ſcatfer and diſperle the giddy Gothes,
Or at the leaſt make them his Enemies:
See heere he comes, and I muſt play my theame.

Tam. What would it thou have us doe Andronicus ?

Dem. Shew me a Murtherer, Ile deal with him.

Chir. Shew me a Villaine that hath done a Rape.
And I am ſent to be reveng'd on him.

Tam. Shew me a thouſand that have done thee wrong,
And I will be revenged on them all,

Tit. Looke round about the wicked freets of Rome,
And when thou findelt a man that's like thy ſelfe,
Good Murder ſtab him, he's a Murtherer.
Goe thou with him, and when it is thy hap
To find another that is like to thee,
Good Rapine ſtab him, he is a Ravifher.
Goe thou with them, and in the Emperours Court,
There is a Queene attended by a Moore,
Well maſſt thou know her by thy owne proportion,
For up and downe ſhe doth reſemble thee,
I pray thee doe on them ſome violent death,
They have beene violent to me and mine.

Tamora.

Tam. Well haſt thou leſſon'd us, this ſhall we doe,
But would it płaſe the good Andronicus,
To find for Lucius thy thrice Valiant Sonne,
Who leads towards Rome a Band of Warlike Gothes,
And bid him come and Banquet at thy houſe.
When he is here, even at thy Solemne Feaſt,
I will bring in the Emprefle and her Sonnes,
The Emperour himſelfs, and all thy Foes,
And at thy mercry ſhall they ſtoope, and kneele,
And on them ſhalt thou eafe, thy angry heart:
What fayes Andronicus to this deville?

Enter Marcus.

Tit. Marcus my brother, tis ſad Titus calls,
Goe gentle Marcus to thy Nephew Lucius,
Thou ſhalt enquire him out among the Gothes,
Bid him repaire to me, and bring with him
Some of the chiefest Princes of the Gothes,
Bid him encame his Souldiers where they are,
Tell him the Emperour, and the Emprefle too,
Feaſts at my houſe, and he ſhall Feaſt with them,
This doe thou for my love, and ſo let him,
As heregards his aged Fathers life.

Mar. This will I doe, and ſoone returne againe. Exi

Tam. Now will I hence about thy buſineſſe,
And take my Minifters along with me.

Tit. Nay, nay, let Rape and Murder ſtay with me,
Or eſſe I call my Brother backe againe,
And cleave to no revenge but Lucius.

Tam. What ſay you Boyes, will you bide with him,
Whiles I goe tell my Lord the Emperour.

How I have govern'd our determined jef't?
Yielded to his humour, ſmooth and ſpeake him faire,
And tarry with him till I turne againe.

Tit. I know them all though they ſuppofe me mad,
And will ore-reach them in their owne deviles,
A payre of curſed helſ-hounds and their Dam.

Dem. Madam depart at pleafure, leave vs here.

Tam. Farewell Andronicus, revenge now goes
Tolay a complot to betray thy Foes.

Tit. I know thou do'ſt, and ſweet revenge farewell.

Chi. Tell us old man, how ſhall we be imploy'd?

Tit. Tut, I have worke enough for you to doe,
Publius come hither, Caius, and Valentine.

Pub. What is your will ?

Tit. Know you theſe two?

Pub. The Emprefle Sonnes

I take them, Chiron, Demetrius.

Tit. Fye Publius, ſie, thou art too much deceau'd,

The one is Murder, Rape is the others name,
And therefore bind them gentle Pubiis,
Caius, and Valentine, lay hands on them,
Ou't have you heard me with for ſuch an houre,
And now I find it, therefore bind them ſure.

Chi. Villaines for beare, we are the Emprefle Sonnes.

Pub. And therefore doe we, what we are commanded.
Stop cloſe their mouthes, let them not ſpeake a word,
Is the ſure bound, looke that you binde them ſaſt. Exenut.

Enter Titus Andronicus with a knife, and Lavinia
with a Bafon.

Tit. Come, come Lavinia, looke, thy Foes are bound,
Sirs ſtop their mouthes, let them not ſpeake to me,
But let them heare what ſcarefull words I utter.

Oh Villaines, Chiron, and Demetrius,
Here stands the ſpring whom you have ſtain'd with mud
This goodly Sommer with your Winter mixt,
You kil'd her husband, and for that vild ſault,
Two of her brothers were condemn'd to death,
My hand cut off, and made a merry jef't,
Both her ſweet hands, her Tongue, and that more deere
Then hands or tongue, her ſpottleſſe Chaſtity,
Inhumane Traytors, you conſtrain'd and forſt,
What would you ſay, if I should let you ſpeake:
Villaines for ſhame you could not beg for grace.
Hearke Wretches, how I meane to martyr you,
This one Hand yet it left, to cut you throats,
Whil'th that Lavinia tweene her ſtumps doth hold:
The Bafon that receives your guilty blood.
You know you Mother means to ſeaſt with me,
And calls herſelfe Revenge, and thinkes me mad.
Hearke Villaines, I will grin'd your bones to duſt,
And with your blood and it, Ile make a Paſte,
And of the Paſte a Coffen I will reare,
And make two Paſties of your ſhamefull heads,
And bid that ſtrumpet your unhallowed Dam,
Like to the earth ſwallow her owne inciſe.
This is the ſeaſt, that I have bid her to,
And this the Banquet ſhe ſhall ſurſet on,
For worſe then Philomet you uſ'd my Daughter,
And worſethen Progne, I will be reveng'd,
Ane now prepare your throats: Lavinia come.
Receive the blood, and when that they are dead
Let me goe grin'd their Bones to powder ſmall,
And with this hatefull Liquor temper it,
And in that Paſte let their vild'd Heads be bakte,
Come, come, be ever one oſticious,
To make this Banket, which I with might prove,
More ſterne and bloody then the Centaures ſeaſt.

He eues their throats.

So now bring them in, for Ile play the Cooke,
And fee them ready, gainſt the Mother comes. Exenut.

Enter Lucius, Marcus, and the Gothes.

Luc. Vuckle Marcus, ſince 'tis my Father's minde
That I repaire to Rome, I am content.

Goth. And ours with thine befall, what fortune will.

Luc. Good Vuckle take you in this barbarous Moore,
This Ravenous Tiger, this accurſed devill,
Let him receive no ſuſtenance, ſetter him,
Till he be brought unto the Emperours face,
For teſtimony of his ſoule proceedings,
And fee the Ambaſſ of our Friends be ſtrong,
If ere the Emperour meanes no good to us.

Aaron. Some devill whisper curſes in my eare,
And prompt me that my tongue may utter forth,
The Venemous Malice of my ſtelling heart.

Luc. Awaſ' inhumane Dogge, Vuhallowed Slave,
Sirs helpe our Vuckle, to convey him in,
The Trumpets ſhew the Emperour is at hand.

Sound Trumpets. Enter Emperour, and Emprefle, with
Tribunes and others.

Sat. What, hath the Firmament more Suns then one?

Luc. What bootes it the to call thy ſelfe a Sunne ?

Mar. Romes Emperour and Nephew breake the party
Theſe quarrels muſt be quietly debated,
The ſeaſt is ready which the careful Titus,
The Feaſt is ready which the careful Titus,

Hath

80

Hath ordained to an honourable end,
For Peace, for Love, for League, and good to Rome :
Pleafe you therefore draw nye and take your places.

Satur. Marcus we will.

Hoboyes.

A Table brought in.

Enter Titus like a Cooke, placing the meat on the Table, and Lavinia with a vale over her face.

Titus. Welcome my gracious Lord,
Welcome Dread Queene,
Welcome ye Warlike Gothes, welcome Lucius,
And welcome all : although the cheere be poore,
Twill fill your stomackes, pleafe you eat of it.

Sat. Why art thou thus attir'd Andronicus?

Tit. Because I would be fure to have all well,

To entertaine your Highneſſe, and your Empresse.

Tam. We are beholding to you good Andronicus.

Tit. And if your highneſſe knew my heart, you were :
My Lord the Emperour refolve me this,

Was it well done of rafh Virginius,
To flay his daughter with his owne right hand,
Because ſhe was enfor'ft, ſtain'd, and deſlowr'd ?

Satur. It was Andronicus.

Tit. Your reafon, Mighty Lord?

Sat. Because the Girle, ſhould not ſurvive her ſhame,
And by her prefence ſtill renew his forrowes.

Tit. A reaſon mighty, ſtrong, and effectuall,
A patterne, preſident, and lively warrant,
For me (moſt wretched) to performe 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, unnaturall and unkind?

Tit. Kild her for whom my teares have made me blind.
I am as wofull as Virginius was,

And have a thouſand times more cauſe then he.

Sat. What was the ravifht ? tell who did the deed,

Tit. Wilt pleafe you eat,

Wilt pleafe your highneſſe feed?

Tam. Why haſt thou ſaine 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 prefently.

Tit. Why there they are both, baked in that Pye,

Whereof their Mother dantily hath fed,

Eating the fleſh that the ſelfe hath bred.

Tis true, tis true, witneſſe my knives ſharpe point.

He kils the Empresse.

Satu. Dye franticke wretch, for this accurfed deed.

Luc. Can the Sonnes eye, behold his Father bleed?

Theres meede for meed, death for a deadly deed.

Mar. You ſad fac'd men, people and Sonnes of Rome,
By uproce fever'd like a flight of Fowle,
Scattred by windes and high tempeſtuous gueſts :
Oh let me teach you how, to knit againe
This ſcattred Corne, into one mutuall ſheafe,
Theſe broken limbs againe into one body.

Goth. Let Rome herſelfe be baile unto herſelfe,
And the whom mighty kingdoms curſie to,
Like a forlorne and delerate caſtaway,
Doe ſhamefull execution on her ſelſe.

But if my froſty ſignes and chaps of age,
Grave witneſſes of true experience,

Cannot induce you to attend my words,

Speake Romes deere friend, as'erſt our Anceſter,

When with his ſolemne tongue he did difcourſe

To love-ficke Didoes ſad attending eare,

The ſtory of that balefull burning night,

When fubtill Greekes ſurpriz'd King Priams Troy:

Tell us what ſinon hath bewicht our eares,

Or who hath brought the fatall engine in,
That gives our Troy, our Rome the civil wound.

My heart is not compaſt of flint nor ſteele,
Nor can I utter all our bitter griſe,

But floods of teares will droune my Oratory,

And breake my very vttrance, even in the time

When it ſhould move you to attend me moſt,

Lending your kind hand Commification.

Heere is a Captaine, let him tell the tale.

Your hearts will throb and weepe to heare him ſpeake.

Luc. This Noble Auditory, be it knowne to you,
That curſed Chiron and Demetrius

Were they that murdred our Emperours Brother,

And they it were that ravifhed our Sifter,

For their fell faults our Brothers were beheaded,

Our fathers teares deſpif'd, and bafeely confen'd,

Of that true hand that fought Romes quarrell out,

And ſent her enemies unto the grave.

Laſtly, my ſelſe unkindly banifhed,

The gates ſhut on me, and turn'd weeping out,

To beg reliefe among Romes Enemies,

Who droun'd their enmity in my true teares,

And op'd their armes to imbrace me as a Friend :

And I am turned forth, be it knowne to you,

That have preferv'd her well fare in my blood,

And from her boſome tooke the Enemies point,

Sheathing the ſteele in my adventrous body.

Alas you know, I am no Vaunder I,

My fears can witneſſe, dumbe although they are,

That my report is juſt and full of truth :

But ſoft, methinks I doe digreſſe too much,

Cyring my worthleſe prieſe : Oh pardon me,

For when no friends are by, men prieſe themſelves.

Mare. Now is my turne to ſpeake : Behold this Child,
Of this was Tamora delivered,

The ifle of an Irreligions Moore,

Chieſe Architeſt and plotter of theſe woes,

The Villaine is alive in Titus houſe,

And as he is, to witneſſe this is true.

Now judge what courſe had Titus to revenge

Theſe wrongs, unſpeakeable paff patience,

Or more then any living man could beare.

Now you have heard the truth, what ſay you Romanes?

Have we done ought amiffle ? ſhew us wherein,

And from the place where you behold us now,

The poore remainder of Andronicus,

Will hand in hand all headlong caſt us downe,

And on the ragged ſtones beat forth our braines,

And make a mutuall closure of our houſe ;

Speake Romanes ſpeake, and if you ſay we ſhall,

Loe hand in hand, Lucius and I will fall.

Emilli. Come come, thou reverent man of Rome,
And bring our Emperour gently in thy hand,
Lucius our Emperour : for well I know,
The common voyce doe cry it ſhall be so.

Mar. Lucius, all haile Romes Royall Emperour,
Goe, goe into old Titus ſorrowfull houſe,
And hither hale that misbelieving Moore,
To be adjugd'd ſome direfull ſlaughtering death,
As puniſhment for his moſt wicked life.

Lucius all haile to Romes gracious Governour.

Lucius

81

If Luc. Thankes gentle Romans, may I governe so,
To heale Romes harmes, and wipe away her woe.
But gentle people, give me ayme a while,
For Nature puts me to a heavy taske :

Stand all aloofe, but Vnckle draw you neere,

To hed obsequious teares upon this Trunke :

Oh take this warme kiffe on they pale cold lips,

Thee lorrowfull drops upon thy bloud-flaine face,

The laft true Duties of thy Noble Sonne.

Mar. A teare for teare, and loving kiffe for kiffe,
Thy brother *Marcus* tenders onthy Lips :

O were the fumme of thefe that I should pay

Countleffe, and infinit yet would I pay them.

Luc. Come hither Boy, come, come, and learne of us
To melt in flowres : thy Grandfire lov'd thee well :

Many a time he danc'd thee on his knee:

Sang thee affeepe, his Loving Breft, thy Pillow :

Many a matter hath he told to thee,

Meete, and agreeing with thine Infancy :

In that repect then, like a loving Childe,

She'd yet some small drops from thy tender Spring.

Because kinde Nature doth require it so :

Friends should affociate Friends, in Griefe and Woe

Bids him far well, commit him to the Grave,

Doe him that kindneffe, and take leave of him.

Boy. O Grandfire, Grandfire : even with all my heart
Would I weare Dead, so you did Live againe.

O Lord, I cannot fpeak to him for weeping,

My teares will choke me. if I ope my mouth.

Romanes. You fad Andronici, have done with woes,
Give sentence on this execrable Wretch,

That hath beene breeder of thefe dire events.

Luc. Set him breft deepe in earth, and famifh him :

There let him fand, and rave, and cry for foode :

If any one reeleves, or pitties him,

For the offence, he dyes. This is our doome :

Some ftay, to fee him faftned in the earth.

Aaron. O why should wrath be mute, and fury dumbe?

I am no Baby I, that with bafe Prayers

I should repent the Evils I have done.

Ten thoufand worfe, then ever yet I did,

Would I performe if I might have my will :

If one good Deed in all my life I did,

I doe repent it from my very Soule.

Luc. Some loving Friends convey the Emperor hence,
And give him buriall in his fathers grave.

My Father, aud Lavinia, shall forthwith

Be clofed in our Houfholds Monument :

As for that heynous Tyger Tansora,

No funerall Rite, nor man in mournfull Weeds :

No mournfull Bell fhall ring her Buriall :

But throw her forth to Bealt and Birds of prey :

Her life was Beaft-like, and devoid of pitty,

And being fo, fhall have like want of pitty.

See Luftice done on Aaron that damn'd Moore,

For whom, our heavy happee had their beginning :

Then afterwards, to Order well the State,

That like Events, may ne're it Ruinate.

Exeunt omne.

## FINIS.

lves.
ais Child,

Romanes?

me,

our,

Lucius

82

THE TRAGEDIE OF
ROMEO and IVLIET.

Actus Primus. Scena Prima.

Enter Sampson and Gregory, with Swords and Bucklers,
of the House of Capulet.

Sampson.

Regory: A my word we'll not carry coales.

Greg. No, for then we should be Colliers.

Samp. I meane, if we be in choller, we'll draw.

Greg. I, while you live, draw your necke 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 houfe of Mountague, moves me.

Greg. To move, is to ftril: and to be valiant, is to fland:
Therefore, if thon art mov'd, thou runft away.

Samp. A dogge of that houle shall move me to fland.
I will take the wall of any Man or Maid of Mountagues.

Greg. That fhewes thee weake flave, for the weakke
goes to the wall.

Samp. True, and therefore women being the weaker
Veffells, are ever thruft to the wall: therefore I will puſh
Mountagues men from the wall, and thruft his Maids to
the wall.
(their men.)

Greg. The Quarrell is betweene our Maſters, and us

Samp. Tis all one, I will ſhow my ſelfe a tyrant: when
I have fought with the men, I will be civill 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 fence thou wilt.

Greg. They muſt take it in fence, that feele it.

Samp. They shall feele while I am able to ſtand:
And tis knowne I am a pretty piece of fleſh.

Greg. Tis well thou art not fifth: if thou had'ft, thou
had'ft beene poore John. Draw thy Toole, here comes of
the House of the Mountagues.

Enter two other Servingmen.

Sam. My naked weapon is out: quarrel, I wil backe thee

Gre. How ? Turne thy backe; and run.

Sam. Feare me not.

Greg. No marry : I feare thee.

Samp. Let us take the Law of our fides: let them begin

Gr. I wil frown as I paffe by, & let the take it as they lift

Sam. Nay, as they dare. I will bite my Thumbe at them
which is a diſgrace to them, if they beare it.

Abra. Doe you bite your Thumbe at vs fir ?

Sam. I doe bite my Thumbe, fir.

Abra. Doe you bite your Thumbe at us fir ?

Sam. Is the Law of our fide, if I fay I ?

Gre. No

Samp. No fir, I doe not bite my Thumbe at you fir: but
I bite my Thumbe fir.

Greg. Doe you quarrell fir ?

Abra. Quarrell fir ? no fir.

(as you

Sam. If you doe fir, I am for you, I ferve, as good a man

Abra. No better ?

Sam. Well fir.

Enter Benvolio.

Gre. Say better: here comes one of my maſters kinfmen

Sam. Yes, better.

Abra. You Lye.

Samp. Draw if you be men. Gregory, remember thy
wathing blow.
They fight,

Ben. Part Fooles put up your Swords, you know not
what you doe.

Enter Tibalt.

Tyba. What art thou drawne, among theſe heartleſſe
Hindes ? Turne thee Benvolo, looke upon thy death.

Ben. I doe but keepe the peace, put up thy Sword,
Or manage it to part theſe men with me.

Tyb. What draw, and talke of peace ? I hate the word
As I hate hell, all Mountagues, and thee :

Have at the Coward.

Fight.

Enter three or ſonre Citizens with Clubs.

Offie. Clubs, Bils, and Partifons, ſtrike, beat them down
Downe with the Capulets, downe with the Mountagues.

Enter old Capulet in his Gown, and his Wife.

Cap. What noife 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 Mountague is come,
And flourifhes his Blade in spight of me.

Enter old Mountague, and his wife.

Moun. Thou villaine Capulet. Hold me not, let me goe.

2. Wife. Thou ſhalt not ſtirre a foote to feeke a Foe.

Enter Prince Eſkales, with his Traine.

Prin. Rebellious Subjeſts, Enemies to peace,
Prophaners of this Neighbor-ſtained Steele,
Will they not heare? What hoe, you Men, you Beaſts,
That quench the fire of your pernicious Rage,
With purple Fountaineſing from your Veines:
On paine of Torture, from theſe bloody hands
Throw your miſtemper'd Weapons to the ground,
And heare the Sentence of your moved Prince.

Threſe civill Broyles, bred of an Aery word,
By thee old Capulet and Mountague,

Have thrice diſturb'd the quiet of our ſtrects,
And make Verona's ancient Citizens
Cait by their Grave beſeeming Ornament,

To wield old Partizans, in hands as old,

Cankred

["The Tragedy of Romeo and Juliet.", "She is too faire, too wife wifely too faire,\nTo merit bliffe by making me difpaire :\nShe hath forfworne to love, and in that vow\nDoe I live dead, that live to tell it now.", "Ben. Be ruld by me, forget to thinke of her.", "Rom. O teach me how I should forget to thinke.", "Ben. By giving liberty unto thine eyes,", "Examine other beauties. (more,", "Rom. Tis the way to call hers (exquifit) in queftion", "Thefe happy maskes that kiffe faire Ladies browses,\nBeing blacke, puts us in mind they hide the faire :", "He that is ftooken blind, cannot forget", "The precious treafure of his eye-fight loft :", "Shew me a Miftrefle that is pafling faire:", "What doth her beauty ferve but as a note,", "Where I may reade who paft that pafling faire.", "Farewell thou canſt not teach me to forget.", "Ben. Ile pay that doctrine, or elſe dye in debt. Exennt.", "Enter Capulet, County Paris, and the Clowne.", "Capu. Mountague is bound as well as I,", "In penalty alike, and tis not hard I thinke,", "For men fo old as we, to keepe the peace.", "Par. Of honourable reckning are you both,", "And pitty tis you liv'd at ods fo long :", "But now my Lord, what ſay you to my ſute ?", "Capu. But faying ore what I have faid before", "My Child is yet a ſtanger in the world,", "Shee hath not feene the change of fourteene yeeres,", "Let two more Summers wither in their pride,", "Ere we may thinke her ripe to be a Bride.", "Par. Younger then ſhe, are happy mothers made.", "Capu. And too foone mar'd are thofe fo early made :", "Earth up hath ſwallowed all my hopes but ſhe,", "She is the hopefull Lady of my earth:", "But wooe her gentle Paris, get her heart,", "My will to her conſent, is but a part,", "And ſhe agree, within her ſcope of choife,", "Lyes my conſent, and faire according voyce :", "This night I hold an old accuſtom'd ſeaf,", "Hereto I have invited many a Gueſt,", "Such as I love, and you among the ſfore,", "One more, moſt welcome makes my number more :", "At my poore houſe, looke to behold this night,", "Earth-treading ſtarres, that make darke heaven light,", "Such comfort as doe luly young men feele,", "When well apparel'd Aprill on the heele", "Of limping Winter treads, euen ſuch delighe", "Among fresh Female buds ſhall you this night", "Inherit at my houſe: heare all, all ſee :", "And like her moſt, whole merit moſt ſhall be :", "Which one more view, of many, mine being one,", "My ſtand in number, though in reckning none.", "Come, goe with me: goe firrah trudge about,", "Through faire Verona, find thofe perſons out,", "Whole names are written there, and to them ſay,", "My houſe and welcome, on their pleasure ſtay. Exit.", "Ser. Find them out whole names are written. Heert it\nis written, that the Shoo-maker ſhould meddle with his\nYard, and the Tayler with his Laſt, the Fisber with his\nPenfill, and the Paunder with his Nets. But I am ſent to\nfind thofe perſons whose names are writ, and can ne'er\nfind what names the witting perſon hath here writ: (I\nmuſt to the learned) in good time.", "Enter Benvolio, and Romeo.", "Ben. Tut man, one fire burnes out anothers burning,\nOne paine is ldefn by anothers anguifh :", "Turne giddy, and be holpe by bakward turning :", "One deſparate griefe, cures with anothers languifh :", "Take thou ſome new infection to the eye,", "And the ranke poyſon of the old will dye.", "Rom. Your Plantan leafe is excellent for that.", "Ben. For what I pray thee ?", "Rom. For your broken ſhin.", "Ben. Why Romeo art thou mad?", "Rom. Not mad, but bound more then a mad man is:", "Shut up in prifon, kept without my feode,", "Whipt and tormented : and Godden good ſellow.", "Ser. Godgigonden, I pray fir can you read ?", "Rom. I mine owne fortune in my milery.", "Ser. Perhaps you have learn'd it without booke :", "But I pray can you read any thing you ſee ?", "Rom. I, if I know the Letters and the Language.", "Ser. Ye ſay honesſly, reſt you merry.", "Rom. Stay ſellow, I can read.", "He reades the Letter.", "SEigneur Martino, and his wife and daughter: County du-\nSejelme and his beauteous ſifters: the Lady vidow of Viru-\nvio, Seigneur Placentio, and his lovely Neece: Mercutio and\nhis brother Valentine, mine uncle Capulet his wife and daugh-\nters: my faire Neece Rofaline, Livia, Seigneur Valentio, and\nhis Cofen Tybalt: Lycio and the lively Helena.", "A faire afleambly, whither ſhould they come ?", "Ser. Vp.", "Rom. Whither ? to ſupper ?", "Ser. To our houſe.", "Rom. Whofe houſe ?", "Ser. My Maifters.", "Rom. Indeed I ſhould have askt you that before.", "Ser. Now Ile tell you without asking. My maſter is\nthe great rich Capulet, and if you be not of the houſe of\nMountague I pray come and cruſh a cup of wine. Reſt\nyou merry.", "Exit.", "Ben. At this fame ancient Feaſt of Cupalęs,", "Sups the faire Rofaline, whom thou ſo loveſt :", "With all the admired Beauties of Verona,", "Goe thither and with unattainted eye,", "Compare his face with ſome that I ſhall ſhow,", "And I will make thee thinke thy Swan a Crow.", "Rom. When the devout religion of mine eye", "Maintaines ſuch falſhood, then turne teares to fire :", "And theſe who often drown'd could never dye,", "Transparent Heretiques be burnt for liers.", "One fairer then my love I the all-ſeeing Sun", "Nere ſaw her match, ſince firſt the world begun.", "Ben. Tut Tut, you ſaw her ſaire, none eſſe being by,", "Hereſelfe poyſ'd with herſelfe in either eye :", "But in that Chriſtall ſcales, let there be waid,", "Your Ladies love againſt ſome other Maid", "That I will ſhow you, ſhining at this ſeaf,", "And theſele ſhew ſcant, well, that now ſhewes beſt.", "Rom. Ile goe along, no ſuch fight to be ſhowne,", "But to rejoyce in ſplendor of mine owne.", "Enter Capulets Wife and Nurse.", "Wife. Nurſe wher's my daughter? call her forth to me.", "Nurſe. Now by my Maidenhead, at twelve yeare old\nI bad her come, what Lamb: what Ladi-bird, God forbid,\nWhere's this Girle? what Iuliet ?", "Enter Iuliet.", "Iuliet. How now, who calls ?", "Nur. Your Mother.", "Iuliet. Madam I am heere, what is your will ?", "Wife. This

Mer. Tut,duns the Monfe,the Contables owne word,
If thou art dun,weele draw thee from the mire.
Or fave your reverence love, wherein thou flickeſt
Vp to the eares, come we burne day-light ho.

Rom. Nay that's not fo.

Mer. I meane fir I, delay,

We waſt our lights in vaine,lights,lights,by day;
Take our good meaning,for our Iudgement fits
Five times in that ere once in our fine wits.

Rom. And we meane well in going to this Maske,
But 'tis no wit to go.

Mer. Why may one aske?

Rom. I dreamt a dreame to night.

Mer. And fo did I.

Rom. Well what was yours?

Mer. That dreamers often lie.

Rom. In bed a fleepe while they do dreame things true.

Mer. O then I fee Queene Mabhath beene with you :
She is the Fairies Midwife,and ſhe comes in ſhape no big-
ger then Agat-ſtone, on the fore-finger of an Alderman,
drawne with a teeme of little Atomies, over mens noſes
as they lie aſſleepe : her Waggon Spokes made of long
Spinners legs : the Cover of the wings of Graſhoppers,
her Trace of the ſmallest Spiders web, her collars of the
Moone ſhines watry Beames, her Whip of Creckets bone,
the Lash of ſilme, her Waggoner, aſſmall gray coated
Gnat, not halſe ſo bigge as a round little Worme, pricct
from the Lazy- finger of a woman. Her Chariot is an eple
Haſelnut, made by the Ioyner Squirrel or old Grub, time
outa mind, the Faries Choach-makers; and in this ſlate the
gallops night by night, through Loners braines : and then
they dreame of Love. On Countries knees, that dreame on
Curſes ſtrait: ore Lawiers fingers, who ſtrait dreame on
Fees, ore Ladies lips, who ſtrait on kiffes dreame, which
oſt the angry Mab with blisters plagues, becaufe their
breath with Sweet meats tainted are. Some time ſhe gal-
lops ore a Courtiers noſe, and then dreames he of finelling
out a ſuite; and fometime comes ſhe with a Tith pigs ſale,
tickling a Parſons noſe as he lies aſſleepe, then he dreames of
another Benefice. Some time ſhe driveth ore a Souldiers
necke, and then dreames he of cutting Forraine throats, of
Breaches, Ambufcados, Spaniſh Blades : Of Healths ſiue
Fadome deepe, and then anon drums in his eares, at which
he flarts and wakes, and being thus frighted, ſweares a
prayer or two & fleeps againe: this is that very Mab that
plats the manes of Horſes in the night; and baks the Elf-
locks in ſoule fluttiſh haires, which once untangled, much
misfortune bodes.

This is the hag, when Maides lie on their backs,
That preſſes them, and learnes them firſt to beare,
Making them women of good carriage:

This is ſhe—

Rom. Peace, peace, MercEUto peace,
Thou talk'ſt of nothing.

Mer. True I talke of dreames:
Which are the children of an idle braine,
Begot of nothing, but vaine phantafie,
Which is as thin of ſubſtance as the ayre,
And more inconſtant then the wind, who wooes
Even now the frozen boſome of the North:
And being anger'd, pufſes away from thence,
Turning his ſide to the dew dropping South.

Ben. This wind you talke of blows vs from our ſelves,
Supper is done and we ſhall come too late.

Rom. I feare too early, for my mind miſgives,
Some conſequence yet hanging in the ſtarres,

Shall bitterly begin his ſearefull date
With this nights revels, and expire the tearme
Of a deſpifed life cloſ'd in my breſt:
By ſome vile forfeit of untimely death,
But he that hath the ſtrage of my courſe,
Direſt my ſute : on laſtly Gentlemen.

Ben. Strike Drum.

They march about the Stage, and Servingmen come forth
with their napkin.

Enter Servant.

Ser. Where's Potpan, that he helps not to take away?
He lift a Trencher? he ſcrape a Trencher.

1. When good manners, I shall lie in one or two mens
hands, and they unwaſt too,'tis a ſoule thing.

Ser. Away with the Ioynttooles, remove the Court-
cubbord, looke to the plate: good thou, ſave me a peice
of Marchpane, and as thou loveſt me, let the Porter let in
Sufan Grindſone, and Nell, Anthonie and Potpan.

2. I Boy ready.

Ser. You are lookt for, and cal'd for, askt for, and ſought
for, in the great Chamber.

1. We cannot be here and there too, clearly Boys,
Be briske a while, and the longer liver take all.

Exemm.

Enter all the Gueſts and Gentlewomen to the
Maskers.

I. Capu. Welcome Gentlemen,

Ladies that have their toes
Vnplag'd with Cornes, will walke about with you:
Ah me! Mifſtrefies, which of you all
Will now deny to dance? She that makes dainty,
She Ile ſweare hath Cornes: am I come neare ye now?

Welcome Gentlemen, I have feene the day
That I have worne a Vifor, and could tell

A whispering tale in a faire Ladies care:
Such as would pleafe : 'tis gone,'tis gone,'tis gone,
You are welcome Gentlemen, come Mufitians play:

Musſicke plates; and the dance.

A Hall, hall, give roome, and foote it Girles,
More light ye knaves, and turne the Tables up:
And quench the ſire, the Roome is growne too hot.
Ah firrah, this unloopt for ſport comes well :
Nay fit, nay fit, good Cozin Capule,
For you and I are paſt our dauncing dayes :
How long 'ift now ſince laſt your ſelfe and I
Were in a Maske

2. Capu. Berlady thirty years.

I. Capu. What man : 'tis not ſo much,'tis not ſo much,
'Tis ſince the Nuptiall of Lucentio.
Come Penticoſt as quickly as it will,
Some five and twenty yeares, and then we Maske.

2. Cap. 'Tis more,'tis more, his Sonne is elder fir :
His Sonne is thirty.

3. Cap. Will you tell me that?
His Sonne was but a Ward two yeares agoe.

Rom. What Lady is that which doth in rich the hand
Of yonder Knight?

Ser. I konw not fir.

Rom. O ſhe doth teach the Torches to burne bright:
Her Beauty hangs upon the chequee of night,
Like a rich Jewelin an Æthiops eare :
Beauty too rich for uſe, for earth too deare:
So thewes a Snowy Dove trooping with Crowes,
As yonder Lady ore her fellowes floweſ?
The meaſure done. Ile watch her place of ſtand,
And touching hers, make bleſſed my rude hand.

Did

87

Did my heart love till now, for weare it fight,
For I never saw true Beauty till this night.

Tb. This by his voyce, should be a Mountague.
Fetch me my Rapier, Boy, what dares the flave
Come hither coverd with an antique face,
To firee and fcorne at our Solemnity?
Now by the flocke and Honour of my kins
To strike him dead I hold in not a fin.
Cap. Why how now kinfman,
Wherefore florme you so?

Tb. Vncle this is a Mountague, our foe:
A Villaine that is hither come in fight,
To fcorne at our Solemnity this night.

Cap. Young Romeo is it?

Tb. 'Tis he, that Villian Romeo.

Cap. Content thee gentle Coz, let him alone,
Abodes him like a portly Gentleman:
And to fay truth, Verona brags of him,

Tobe a vertuous and well govern'd youth:
I would not for the wealth of all the towne,
Here in my houfe doe him difparagement:
Therefore be patient, take no note of him,

It is my will, the which if thou reſpect,
Shew a faire prefence, and put off theſe frownes,
Anil befeeming femblance for a Feaſt.

Tb. It fits when fuch a Villaine is a gueſt,
lie not endure him.

Cap. He ſhall be endur'd.

What goodman boy, I ſay he ſhall, go to,
Am I the Maifter here or you? go to,
You le not endure him, God ſhall mend my ſoule,
Youle make a Mutiny among the Gueſts:
You will let cocke a hoopc, youle be the man?

Tb. Why Vncle 'tis a ſhame.

Cap. Go to, go to.

You are a fawcy Boy, 'tis ſo indeed?
This strike may chance to ſcath 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 ſhame,
Ile make you quiet. What, chearely my hearts.

Tb. Patience perſorce, with wilfull choler meeting,
Makes my fleſh tremble in their different greeting:
I will withdraw, but this intruſi on ſhall
Now ſeeming fweet, conduert to bitter gall.

Rom. If I prophane with my vnwortheit ſhand,
This holy ſhrine, the gentle fin is this,
My lips two blufhing Pilgrims ready fland,
To finooth that rough touch, with a tender kiffle.

Iul. Good Pilgrime,
You dow wrong your hand too much,
Which manerly devotion ſhewes in this,
For Saints have hands, that Pilgrimes hand, do touch,
And palme to palme is holy Palmers kiffle.

Rom. Have not Saints lips, and holy Palmers too?

Iul. I Pilgrim, lips that they muſt uſe in prayer.

Rom. O then deare Saint let lips do what hands doe,
They pray (graunt you) leaſt faith turne to diſpaire.

Iul. Saints doe not move,
Though graunt for prayers ſake.

Rom. Then move not while my prayers effect doe take:
This from my lips, by thine my fin is purg'd.

Iul. Then have my lips the fin that they have tooke,
Rom. Sin from my lips! O trefpaffe fweetly vrg'd.

Give me my fin againe,

Iul. You kiffle by'th'booke.

Nur. Madam your Mother craves a word with you.

Rom. What is her Mother.

Nurſe, Marry Batcheler,

Her Mother is the Lady of the houſe,
And a good Lady, and a wife, and Vertuous,
I Nurſt her Daughter that you talke withal:
I tell you, he that can lay hold of her,
Shall have the chincks.

Rom. Is ſhe a Capulet?

O deare account! My life is my foe's debt.

Ben. Away, be gone, the ſport is at the beſt.

Rom. I ſo I feare, the more is my unreſt.

Cap. Nay Gentlemen prepare not to be gone,

We have a trifling fooliſh Banquet towards:

Is it e'ne ſo? why then I thanke you all.

I thanke you honſt Gentlemen, good night:

More Torches here come on, then let's to bed.

Ah firra, by my faie it waxes late.

Ile to my reſt.

Exeunt.

Iul. Come hither Nurſe,
What is yond Gentleman:

Nur. The Sonne and Heire of old Tyberio.

Iul. What's he that now is going out of doore?

Ngr. Marry that I thinke be young Petruchio.

Iul. What's he that follows here that would not dance?

Nur. I know not.

Iul. Go aske his name; if he be married,
My grave is like to be my wedding bed.

Nur. His name is Romeo, and a Mountague,
The only Sonne of our great Enemy.

Iul. My only Love ſprung from my only hate,
Too early ſeene, unknow, and knowne, too late,
Prodigious birth of Love it is to me,
That I muſt love a loathed Enemy.

Nur. What's this? what's this?

Iul. A rime, I leard even now

Of one I da'n't withall.

One calls within, Iulier.

Nur. Anon, anon:
Come let's away, the ſtraungers all are gone.

Exeunt.

Chorus:

Now old deſire doth in his death-bed lye,
And young affection gapes to be his Heire,
That faire, for which Love gron'd for and would dye,
With tender Iuliet matcht, is now not faire.

Now Romeo is beloved, and Loues againe,
A like bewitched by the charme of looks:
But to his foe fuppос'd he muſt complaine,
And the ſicale Loves fweet bait from ſcarefull hooks.

Being held a foe, he may not have acſeſe:
To breath ſuch vowes, as Lovers uſe to ſweare;

And the as much in Love, her means much leſſe,
To meete her new Beloved any where:

But paffion lends them Power, time, meanes to meete,
Temp'ting extremities with extreame fweete.

Enter Romeo alone.

Rom. Can I goe forward when my heart is here?
Turne backe dull earth, and find my Centour out.

Enter Bennuolio, with Mercutio.

Ben. Romeo, my Cozen Romeo, Romeo.

Mere. He is wife,

And on my life hath ſtolne him home to bed.

Ben. He ran this way, and leapt this Orchard wall.

Call good Mercutio :

Nay, Ile coniure too.

hha

Mat

g8

Mer. Romeo, Humours, Madman, Passion, Lover,
Appeare thon in the likenesse of a fight,
Speake but one time, and I am satisfied:
Cry me but ayme, Couply but Love and day,
Speake to my goſhip Venus one faire wor,
One Nickname for her purblind Sonne and her,
Young Abraham Cupid he that fhot fo true,
When King Cophetua lov'd the begger Maid,
He heareth not, he ſtirreth not, he moveth not,
The Ape is dead, and I muſt coniure him,
I coniure thee by Rofalines bright eyes,
By her high forehead, and her Scarlet lip,
By her fine foote, Straight leg, and Quivering thigh,
And the Demeanes, that there Adiacent lie,
That in thy likenesse thou appeare to us.
Ben. And if he heare the thou wilt anger him.
Mer. This cannot anger him, t would anger him
To raife a ſpirit in his Miftrefſe circle,
Of ſome ſtrange nature, letting it there ſtand
Till ſhe had laid it, and conjur'd it downe,
That were ſome ſpight.
My invocation is faire and honeſt, and in his Miftris name
I conjure onely but to raife up him.

Ben. Come, he hath hid him ſelfe among theſe Trees
To be conſorted with the Humerous night :
Blind is his Love, and beſt beſits the darke.
Mer. If Love be blind, Love cannot hit the marke,

Now will he fit under a Medler tree,
And with his Mifſtreſſe were that kind of Fruite,
As Maides call Medlers when they laugh alone,
O Romeo that ſhe were, O that ſhe were
An open, or thon a Poprin Peare,
Romeo goodnight, Ile to my Truckle bed,
This Field-bed is too cold for me to ſleepe,
Come ſhall we go?

Ben. Go then, for'tis in vaine to feeke him here—
That meanes not to be found.
Exeunt.

Rom. He iaſts at Scarres that never felt a wound,
But ſoft, what light through yonder window breaks?
It is the Eaſt, and Iuliet is the Sunne,
Ariſe faire Sun and kill the envious Moone,
Who is already ſicke and pale with greife,
That thou her Maid art far more faire then ſhe:
Be not her Maid ſince ſhe is envious,
Her Veſtall livery is but ſicke and greene,
And none but fooles do weare it, caſt it off:
It is my Lady, O it is my Love, O that ſhe knew ſhe were,
She ſpakes, yet ſhe faies nothing; what of that?
Her eye diſcourſes, I will anſwere it:
I am too bold 'tis not to me ſhe ſpakes:
Two of the faireſt ſtarres in all the heaven,
Hauing ſome buſineſſe do entreat her eyes,
To twinckle in their ſpheres till they returne.
What if her eyes were there, they in her head,
The brightneſſe of her checke would ſhame thatſe ſtarres,
As day light doth a Lampe, her eye in heaven,
Would through the ayrie Region ſtreame to bright,
That Birds would ſing and thinke it were not nights:
See how ſhe leanes her cheeke upon her hand.
O that I were a Glove upon that hand.
That I might touch that cheeke.

Iulius. Ay me.

Rom. She ſpakes.

Oh ſpake againe bright Angell, for thou art
As glorious to this night being ore my head,
As is a winged meſſenger of heaven

Vnto the white upturned wondering eyes
Of mortalls that fall backe to gaze on him,
When he beſtrids the lazy puffing Clouds,
And failes upon the boſome of the ayre.

Iulius. O Romeo, Romeo, w herefore art thou Romeo?
Deny thy Father and reſufe thy name:
Or if thou wilt not, be but ſworne my Love,
And Ile no longer be a Capulet.

Rom. Shall here more, or shall I ſpake at this?
Iu. 'Tis but thy name that is my Enemy:
Thou art thy ſelfe, though not a Mountague,
What's Mountague! it is nor hand nor foote,
Nor arme, nor face, O be ſome other name
Belonging to a man.

What in a name? that which we call a Roſe,
By any other word would ſmell as ſwete,
So Romeo would, were he not Romeo cal'd,
Retaine that deare perſection which he owes,
Without that title Romeo, doffe thy name,
And for thy name which is no part of thee,
Take all my ſelfe,

Rom. I take thee at thy word:
Call me but Love, and Ile be new baptiz'd,
Henceforth I never will be Romeo.

Iulius. What man art thou, that thus beſcreen'd in nigh
So ſtumleſt on my councell?

Rom. By a name,
I know not how to tell thee who I am:
My name deare Saint, is hatefull to my ſelfe,
Because it is an Enemy to thee,
Had I it written, I would teare the word,

Iulius. My eares have yet not drunkne a hundred words
Of thy tongues uttering, yet I know the found.
Art thou not Romeo, and a Mountague?

Rom, Neither faire Maid, if either thee diſlike,
Iulius. How cam't thou hither.

Tell me, and wheretofore?
The Orchard walls are high, and hard to climbe,
And the place 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 ſfony limits cannot hold Love out,
And what Love can do, that dars Love attempt;
Therefore thy kinfmen are no ſlop to me.
Iulius. If they do fee theſe, they will murther thee.
Rom. Alacke there lies more perill in thine eye,
Then twenty of their Swords, looke thou but ſwete,
And I am proofe against't their enmity.

Iulius. I would not for the world they ſaw theſee here.
Rom. I have nights cloake to hide me from their eyes
And but thou love me, let them finde me here,
My life were better ended by their hate,
Then death proroged wanting of thy Love.

Iulius. By whole direction found it thou out this place?
Rom. By Love that firſt did prompt me to enquire,
He lent me counſell, and I lent him eyes,

I am no Pylot, yet wert thou as far
As that vaſt-shore: was land with the fartheſt Sea,
I ſhould aduenture for ſuch Marchandife,

Iulius. Thou knoweſt the maske of night is on my face,
Elſe would a Maiden bluſh bepaint my cheeke,
For that which thou haſt heard me ſpake to night,
Faine would I dwell on forme, ſaine, ſaine, deny
What I have ſpoke but farewell Complements
Doeſt thou Love ? O I know thou wilt ſay I,

And

89

And I will take thy word,yet if thou fwear't,
Thou maiſt prove falſe at Louers perjvries
They ſay lonte laughes,oh gentle Romeo,
If thou doſt Love,pronounce it faithfully:
Or if thou thinkeſt I am too quickly wont,
Ile frowne and be peruerſe, and ſay thee nay,
So thou wilt wooe: But eſſe not for the world.
In truth faire Mountague I am too fond:

In truth faire Mountague I am too fond:
And therefore thou mayeſt thinke my hayْour light,
But nulſt me Gentleman,Ile prove more true,
Then thofe that have more coying to be ſtrange,
I should have beene more ſtrange I muſt confefle,
But that thou over heard't ere I was ware
My true Loves paſſion, therefore pardon me,
And not impute this yeelding to light Love,
Which the darke night hath ſo diſcovered,

Rem. Lady, by yonder Moone I vow:
That tips with filer all theſe Fruite-tree tops.

Iuli. O I weare not by the Moone,thi'inconfiant Moone,
That monethly changes in her circled Orbe,
Leaſt that thy Love prove likewife variable.

Rem. What ſhall I ſweare by?

Iuli. Donot ſweare at all:

Or if thou wilt ſweare by thy gratious ſelfe,
Which is the God of my Idolatry,
And Ile believe thee.

Rem. If my hearts deare love—

Iuli. We'll do not ſweare although I joy in thee,
have no joy of this contract to night,
Istoo rath,too unadviſ'd,too fodden,

Too like the lightning which doth ceaſe to be
Ere, one can ſay, it lightens,Sweete good night:
This bud of Love by Summers ripening breath.

May prove a beavteous Flower when next we meete:
Goodnight: goodnight, as fweete repofe and reſt,
Cometo thy heart, as that within my breſt.

Rem. O wilt thou leave me ſo ſunfatſhed?

Iuli. What fatiſaction can it thou have to night?

Rem. I'ch exchange of thy Loves faithfull vow of mine,

Iuli. I gave thee mine before thou didst requeſt it:
And yet I would it were to give againe,
Rem. Would it thou withdraw it,

For what purpope Love?

Iuli. But to be franke and give it thee againe,
And yet I wiſh but for the thing I have,
My bounty is as boundleſſe as the Sea,

My Love as decepe, the more I give to thee
The more I have,for both are Inſinite.

I hear some noyle within deare Love adue.

Cals within.

Anon good Nurſe, ſweet Mountague be true:
Stay but a little, I will come againe.

Rem. O bleſſed bleſſed night, I am aſcar'd
Being in night, all this is but a dreame,
Too flattering ſweet to be ſubſtantiall.

Iuli. Three words deare Romeo,
And goodnight indeed,

Enter.

Ithat thy bent of Love be Honourable,
Thy popule marriage, ſend me word to morrow,
By one that Ile procure to come to thee,
Where and what time thou wilt performe the right,
And all my Fortunes at thy foote I lay,
And follow thee ray Lord throughout the world.

Within: Madam.

I come,anon:but if thou meaneſt not well,
I do beſech thee.

Within: Madam.

(By and by I come)

To ceaſe thy ſtrife,and leave me to my griefe,
To morrow will I ſend.

Rem. So thrive my foule.

Iuli. A thouſand times good night.

Exit.

Rem. A thouſand times the worſet to want thy light,
Love goes toward Love as Schoole-boys from their books
But Love from Love towards Schoole with heavy looks,

Enter Iuliet againe.

Iuli. Hift Romeo hift: O for a Falkners voice,
Tolure this Tafſell gentle backe againe,
Bondage is hoarſe, and may not ſpeake aloud,
Elſe would I tcare the Cave where Eccho lies,
And make her ayry tongue more hoarſe, then with
The repetition of my Romeo,

Rem. It is my foule that calls upon my name.
How filer ſweete, found Lovers tongues by night,
Like foſſeſt Muſick to attending eares.

Iuli. Romeo.

Rem. My ſweete.

Iuli. What a clocke to morrow

Shall I ſend to thee?

Rem. By the houre of nine.

Iuli. I will not ſaile, 'tist twenty yeares till then,
I have forgot why I did call thee backe,

Rem. Let me ſtand here till thou remember it.

Iuli. I ſhall forget, to have the ſtill ſtand there,
Remembring how I Love thy company.
Rem. And Ile ſtill ſtay, to have thee ſtill ſoſt,"
Forgetting any other name but this.

Iuli. 'Tis almost morning, I would have thee gone,
And yet no further then a wantons Bird,
That let's it hop a little from his hand,
Like a poore prifoner in his twifled Gyves,
And with a filken thred plucks it againe,
So loving lealous of his liberty.

Rem. I would I were thy bird.

Iuli. Sweet ſo would I,

Yet I ſhould kill thee with much cheriſing
Goodnight,goodnight.

Rem. Parting is ſuch ſweete ſorrow,
That I ſhall ſay goodnight, till it be morrow.

Iuli, Sleepe dwell vpon thine eyes, peace in thy breſt

Exit.

Rem. Would I were ſleepe and peace ſo ſweet to reſt,
The gray ey'd morne I miles on the frowning night,
Cheekring the Eafterne Clouds with freaks of light,
And darkeneſſe fleckel'd like a drunkard recles,
From forth dayes pathway,made by Tītans wheeles.
Hence wil I to my ghofly Friers close Cell,
His helpeto crave,and my deare hap to tell.

Exit.

Enter Frier alone with a basket.

Fri. Now ere the Sun advance his burning eye,
The day to cheere, and nights danke dew to dry,
I muſt upſtill this Oſer Cage of ours,
With balefull weedes, and precious Juiced flowers,
The earth that's Natures mother, is her Tombe,
What is her burying grave that is her wombe:
And from her wombe children of divers kind

hh 3

We

90

We fucking on her naturall boſome find:

Many for many vertues excellent:

None but for ſome, and yet all different.

Omickle is the powerfull grace that lies

In Plants, Hearbs, ſtones, and their true qualities:

For nought ſo vile, that on the earth doth live.

But to the earth ſome ſpeciall good doth give.

Nor ought ſo good, but train'd from that faire vſe,

Revolts from true birth, ſtumbling on abufe.

Vertue it ſelfe turnes vice being milapplied.

And vice ſometime by action dignified.

Enter Romeo.

Within the infant rin'd of this weake flower,

Poyſon hath reſidence, and medicine power:

For this being ſmelt, with that part cheares each part,

Being taſted ſlayes all fences with the heart.

Two ſuch oppoſed Kings encamp them ſtill,

In man as well as Hearbs grace and rude will:

And where the worſer is predominant,

Full ſoone the Canker death eates up that Plant,

Rom. Good morrow Father.

Fri. Benedicite.

What early tongue ſo sweet Salute them?

Young Sonne, it argues a diſtempered head,

So ſoone to bid good morrow to thy bed:

Care keeps his watch in every old man's eye,

And where Care lodgeth, ſleepe will never lye:

But where unbruſed youth with unfluft braine

Doth couch his limps, there, golden ſleepe doth raigne;

Therefore thy earlineſe doth me allurement,

Thou art uprouzd with ſome diſtempature;

Or if not ſo, then here I hit it right.

Our *Romeo*. hath not beene in bed to night.

Rom. That laſt is true, the ſweeter reſt was mine.

Fri. God pardon fin: waſt thou with *Rofaline*?

Rom, With *Rofaline*, my ghosly Father? No,

I have forgot that name, and that names woe.

Fri. That's my good Son, but where haſt thou bin then?

Rom. Ile tell thee ere thou aske it me agen:

I have beene feaſting with mine enemys,

Where on a ſudden one hath wounded me,

That's by me wounded: both our remedies

Within thy helpe and holy phisicke lies:

I beare no hatred. bleſſed man: for loe

My interceſſion likewife ſteads my foe.

Fri. Be plaine good Son, reſt homely in thy drift,

Ridling conſeſſion, finds but ridling ſhriſt.

Rom. Then plainly know my hearts deare Love is ſet,

On the faire daunger of rich Capulet :

As mine on hers. ſo hers is ſet on mine;

And all combin'd, ſave what thou mutt combine

By holy marriage: when and where, and how,

We met; we wooed, and made exchange of vow:

Ile tell the as we pafle, but this I pray,

That thou confent to marry us to day.

Fri. Holy S, *Francis*, what a change is here?

Is *Rofaline* that thou didſt Love ſo deare

So ſoone forſaken? young mens Love then lies

Not truely in their hearts, but in their eyes.

Iefu *Maria*, what a deale of brine

Hath waſteth thy ſallow cheeckes for *Rofaline*?

How much ſalt water throwne away in waſt,

To feaſon Love that of it doth not taſt.

The Sun not yet thy ſighes, from heaven cleares,

Thy old grones yet ring in my auncient eares:

Lo here upon thy cheecke the ſtaine doth fit,

Of an old teare that is not waſt off yet.

If ere thou waſt thy ſelfe, 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'it me oft for loving *Rofaline*.

Fri. For doting not for loving pupill mine.

Rom. And bad it me bury Love.

Fri. Not in a grave,

To lay one in another out to have.

Rom. I pray thee chide me not, her I Love now

Doth grace for grace, and Love for Love allow:

The other did not ſo.

Fri. O he knew well,

Thy Love did read by rote, that could not ſpell :

But come young waverer, come goe with me,

In one refpect. Ile thy aſſistant be:

For this alliance may ſo happy prove,

To turne your household rancord to pure Love.

Rom. O let us hence, I stand on ſudden haſt.

Fri. Wifely and flow, they ſtumble that run faſt.

Exeunt.

Enter Bennuoli and Mercutio.

Mer. Where the devie 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-harted wench, that *Rofaline* torments him ſo, that he will ſure run mad.

Ben. *Tybalt*, the kinfman to old Capulet, hath ſent a Let-
ter to his Fathers houſe.

Mer. A challenge on my life.

Ben. *Romeo* will anſwere it.

Mer. Any man that can write, may anſwere a Letter.

Ben. Nay he will anſwere the Letters Maſler how he
dares, being dared.

Mer. Alas poore *Romeo*, he is already dead, ſlab'd with a white wenches blacke eye, runne through the care with a Love ſong, the very pinne of his heart, cleft with the blind Bowe-boxes-but-ſhaft, and is he a man to encounter *Tybalt*?

Ben. Why what is *Tybalt*?

Mer. More then Prince of Cats. Oh hee's the Courag-
ous Captaine of Complements : he fights as you ſing
prick ſong, keeps time. diſtance, and proportion, he reſts
his minum, one, two, and the third in your boſome: the ve-
ry butcher of a filke button, a Dualift, a Dualift a Gentle-
man of the very firſt houſe of the firſt and ſecond cauſe:
the immortall Paſſado, the punto rever ſo, the Hay.

Ben. The what?

Mer. The Pox of ſuch antique lifping affecting phan-
tacies, theſe new tuners of accent: Iefu a very good blade,
a very tall man, a very good whore. Why is not this a la-
mentable thing Grandire, that we ſhould be thus aſſuſed
with theſe ſtrainge flies: theſe fash ion Mongers, theſe par
don-mee's, who ſtand ſo much on the new form, that he
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 dried Hering. O ſleſh,
ſleſh, how art thou ſihified? Now is he for the numbers
that *Petrarch* ſlowed in: *Laura* to his Lady was a kitchen
wench, marry ſhe had a better Love to berime her: *Dido*
a dowdy, *Cleopatra* a Gipſie, *Hellen* and *Hero*, hildings
and harlots: *Thibby* a gray eie or ſo, but not to the purpofe
Signior *Romeo*, *Bonjour*, thereſo a French falutation to your
French

French flop: you gave us the counterfeit fairly laft night.
Romeo. Good morrow to you both, what counterfeit
did I give you?

Mr. The flip fir, the flip, can you not conceive?

Rom. Pardon *Mercutio*, my bufineſs was great, and in
fuch a cafe as mine, a man may ſtraine courſie.

Mr. That's as much as to ſay, ſuch a cafe as yours con-
frains a man to bow in the hams.

Rom. Meaning to courſeſe.

Mr. Thou haſt moſt kindly hit it.

Rom. A moſt courteous exſpofition.

Mr. Nay. I am the very pinck of courſeſe.

Rom. Pinke for flower.

Mr. Right.

Rom. Why then is my Pump well flowrd.

Mr. Sure wit, follow me this icaſt, now till thou haſt
worne out thy Pump, that when the ſingle ſole of it is
worne, the icaſt may remaine after the wearing, ſole-
ſingular.

Rom. O ſingle ſold icaſt,

Soly ſingular for the ſingleneffe.

Mr. Come betweene us good *Benuolio*, my wit faints.

Rom. Swits and ſpurs,

Swits and ſpurs, or Ile crye 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?

Rom. Thou was never with me for any thing, when
thou waſt not there for the Goofe?

Mr. I will bite thee by the care for that icaſt.

Rom: Nay, good Goofe bite not.

Mr. Thy wit is a very bitter-tweeting,
It is a moſt farþe fawce.

Rom. 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.

Rom. 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 groning for
Love, now art thou ſociable, now art art thou *Romeo*: now art
thou what thou art, by Art as well as by Nature, for this
driving Love is like a great Naturall, that runs lolling
up and downe to hide his bable in a hole.

Ben. Stop there, ſlop there.

Mr. Thou deſir'd me to ſlop in my tale againſt the
Ben. Thou would't eſſe have made thy tale large, (haire.)

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.

Rom. Here's goodly geare.

A fayle, a fayle.

Mr. Two, two: a Shirt and a Smocke.

Nur. Peter?

Peter. Anon.

Nur. My Fan *Peter*?

Mr. Good *Peter* to hide her face.

For her Fans the fairer face.

Nur. God ye good morrow Gentlemen.

Mr. God ye gooden faire Gentlemen,

Nur. It is gooden?

Mr. 'Tis no leſſe I tell you: for the bawdy hand of the
Dyall is now upon the pricke of Noone.

Nur. Out upon you: what a man are you?

Rom. One Gentlewoman,

That God hath made, himſelfe to, mar.

Nur. By my troth it is faſd, for himſelfe to, mar 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 tooke: Iſaith, wifely, wifely,

Nur. If you be he fir,

I desire ſome confidence with you?

Beu. She will envite him to ſeme Supper.

Mr. A band, a band, a band. So ho.

Rom. What haſt thou found?

Mr. No Hare fir, unleſſe a Hare fir in a Leaten pie,
that is ſomething ſale and hoare ere it be ſpent.
An old Hare hoare, and an old Hare hoare is very good
meat in Lent.

But a Hare that is hoare is too much for a ſcore, when it
hoares ereit be ſpent,

Romeo will you come to your Fathers? Weele to dinner
thither.

Rom. I will follow you.

Mr. Farewell anciens Lady :

Farewell Lady, Lady, Lady.

Exit. Mercutio, Benuolio.

Nur. I pray you fir, what ſawcie Merchant was this
that was ſo full of his ſ hereby?

Rom. A Gentleman Nurſe, that loves to here himſelfe
talke, and will ſpeake more in a minute, then he will ſtand
to in a Moneth.

Nur. And a ſpeake any thing againſt me, I letake him
downe, and a were luſtier then he is, and twenty ſuch lacks:
and if I cannot, Ile find thatof that ſhall: I curuie knave, I
am none of his flurt-gils, I am none of his skaines mates
and thou muſt ſtand by too and ſuffer every kuaueto uſe
me at his pleasure.

Pet. I law no man uſe you at his pleafure: if I had, my
weapon ſhould quickly have beene out, I warrant you, I
dare draw aſſoone as another man, if I ſee occafion in a
good quarrell, and the law on my fide.

Nur. Now afore God, I am ſo vext, that every part about
me quivers, skurvy knave: pray you fir a word: and as I
told you my young Lady bid me enquire you out, what
ſhe bid me ſay I will I eepe to my ſelſe: but firſt let me
tell ye, if ye ſhould lead her in a fooles paradife, as they
ſay, it were a very groſe kind of behaviour, as they ſay:
for the Gentlewomen is yong; and therefore, if you ſhould
deale double with her, truely it were an ills thing to be of-
fered to any Gentlewoman, and very weake dealing.

Rom. Nurſe commend me to thy Lady and Miftrefſe, I,
proteſt onto thee —

Nur. Good heart, and Iſaith I will tell her as much:
Lord, Lord the will be a joyfull woman.

Rom. What wilt thou tell her Nurſe? thou doſet not
mark me?

Nur. I will tell her fir, that you do proteſt, which as I
take it, is a Gentleman-like offer. (afternoone,

Rom. Bid her deviſe ſome means to come to ſhrift this
And there ſhe ſhall at Frier Lawrence Cell

Befriiv'd and married: here is for thy paines.

Nur. No truly fir not a penny.

Rom. Go to! I ſay you ſhall.

Nurſe.

Nur. This afternoon fir? well she shall be there.

Ro. And if thou good Nurfe behind the Abbey wall,
Within this hour my man shall be with thee,
And bring the Cords made like a tackled flaire,
Which to the high top gallant of my ioy.
Muft be my connoy in the secret night.
Farewell, be truſtly and Ile quite thy paines:
Farewell, commend me to thy Miltreſſe.

Nur. Now God in heaven bleſſe thee: harke you fir,

Rom. What faſt thou my deare Nurſe?

Nurſe. Is your man ſecret, did you nere heare ſay two
may keepe councell putting one away.

Rom. I warrant thee my man as true as ſteele.

Nur. Well fir, my Miltreſſe is the ſweeteſt Lady, Lord,
Lord, when 'twas a little prating thing. O there is a No-
ble man in Towne one Paris, that would fairen lay knife a-
board: but the good foule had as leee ſee a Toade, a very
Toade as ſee him: I anger her ſometimes, and tell her that
Paris is the properer man but Ile warrant you, when I ſay
ſo ſhee, looks as pale as any clout in the verſal world.
Doth not Rofemary and Romeo begin both with a letter?

Rom. I Nurſe, 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 Rofemary, that it
would do you good to heare it.

Rom. Commend me to thy Lady.

Nur. I a thouſand times. Peter?

Pet. Anon.

Nur. Before and apace.

Exit Nurſe and Peter.

Enter Iuliet.

Iuliet. The clocke ſtrooke nine, when I did ſend the Nurſe,
In half an hour he ſprouſed to returne,
Perchance he cannot meete him: that's not ſo:
Oh he is lame, Loves Herauid ſhould be thoughts,
Which ten times ſafter glides then the Sunnes beames,
Driving backe ſhadowes over lowring hills.

Therefore do nímlie Pinion'd Doves draw Love,
And therefore hath the wind-ſwift Cupid wings:

Now is the Sun upon the highmoſt hill
Of this daies iourny, and from nine till twelve,
I three long hours, yet he is not come:

Had the affections and warme youthfull blood,
She'd be as ſwift in motion as a ball,
My words would bandy her to my ſweete Love,
And his to me, but old folkes,

Many faire as they were dead,
Vnworthy, flow, heavy, and pale as lead.

Enter Nurſe.

O God he comes, O hony Nurſe what newes?
Haſt thou met with him? ſend thy man away.

Nur. Peter ſtay at the gate,

Iuliet. Now good ſweet Nurſe :

O Lord why lookes thou ſad?

Though newes, be ſad, yet tell them morrily.

If good thou ſham't the muſicke of ſweete newes,
By playing it to me, with ſo lower a face.

Nur. I am a weary, give me leave a while,
Fie how my bones ake, what a jaunt have I had?

Iuliet. I would thou had'ſt my bones and I thy newes:

Nay come I pray the ſpeake, good Nurſe ſpeake.

Nur. Iefu what haſt? can you not ſtay a while?

Do you not ſee I am out of breath?

Iuliet. 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 newes, good or bad? anſwere to that,
Say either and Ile ſtay the circumſtance:

Let me be ſatisfied, iſt 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 ſace
be better then any maans, yet his legs excels all mens, and
for a hand, and a foote, and a bawdy, though they be not to
be talkt on, yet they are paſt compare: he is not the flower
of courteſie, but I warrant him as gentle a Lambe: go thy
waies wench, ſerve God, what have you din'd at home.

Iuliet. No, but all this did I know before

What faies he of our marriage? what of that?

Nur. Lord how my head akes, what a head have I:
It beates as it would fall in twenty peeces.

My backe a tother ſide: O my backe, my backe:
Befrewed your heart for ſending me about
To catch my death with haunting up and downe.

Iuliet. I faith I am forry that thou art ſo ill,

Sweete ſweete, ſwete Nurſe, tell me what faies my Love?

Nur. Your Love ſayes like an honest Gentleman,
And a courteous, and a kind, and a handſome,
And I warrant a vertuous: where is your Mother?

Iuliet. Where is my Mother?

Why the ſhe is within where ſhould ſhe be?

How odlly thou repliſt :

Your Love faies like an honest Gentleman:

Where is my Mother?

Nur. O Gods Lady deare,

Are you ſohot?marry come vp I trow,
Is this the Poults for my aking bones ?

Hence forward do your meſtages your ſelſe.

Iuliet. Heere's ſuch a coile, come what ſaies Romeo?

Nur. Have you got leave to go to ſhrift to day?

Iuliet. I have.

Nur. Then high you hence to Frier Lawrence Cell,
There ſlaies a Husband to make you a wife:

Now comes the wanton blood up in your cheeckes,

The'le be in Scarlot ſtraight at any newes:

Hie you to Church, I muſt another way,

To fetch a Ladder by the which your Love:

Muſt climbe a birds neſt Soone when it is darke:

I am the drudge, and toile in your delight:

But you ſhall beare the burthen ſoone at night,

Go iſle to dinner, hie you to the Cell.

Iuliet. Hie to high Fortune, honest Nurſe, farewell.

Exeunt.

Enter Frier and Romeo.

Fri. So ſmile the heavens vpon this holy act,
That after hours, with ſorrow chide us not.

Rom. Amen, amen, but come what ſorrow can,
It cannot counteruail the exchange of ioy
That one ſhort minute gives me in her fight:
Do thou but clove 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 powder;
Which as they kifle confume. The ſweeteſt honey
Is loathſome in his owne delicionneſſe,
And in the taſe confounds the appetite.
Therefore Love moderately, long Love doth ſo,
Too ſwift arrives as tardy as too flow.

Enter Iuliet.

Here comes the Lady. Oh ſo light a foot

Will nere weare out the everlaſting ſlent;

A

A Lover may beṣtride the Goffamours,
That ydles in the wanton Summer ayre,
And yet not fall, ſo light is vanity.

Juliet. Good even to my goſtly Confeſſor.

Fri. Romeo shall thank thee Daughter for us both.

Juliet. As much to him, eſſe 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 we fweeten with thy breath
This neighbour ayre, and let rich muſickes tongue,
Vafold the imagin'd happineſe that both
Reſeive in either, by this deere encounter.

Juliet. Conceit more rich in matter then in words,
Beags of his ſubtance, not of Ornament:
They are but beggers that can count their worth,
But my true Love is growne to ſuch exceſſe,
I cannot ſum up ſome of haſſe my wealth.

Fri. Come, come, with me, & we will make ſhortworke,
For by your leanes, you ſhall not flay alone,
Til holy Church incorporate two in one.

Enter Mercutio, Bennulio, 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 brawle, for now the ſe
hot dayes, is the mad blood flirring

Mer. Thou art like one of the ſe fellows, that when he
enters the confines of a Tauerne, claps me his Sword vpon
the Table, and fayes, God ſend me no need of thee: and by
the operation of the ſecond cup, draws him on the Draw-
er, when indeed there is no need.

Ben. Am I like ſuch a Fellow?

Ben. Come, come, thou art as hot a laücke in thy mood,
as any in Italy: and atſoone moved to be moody, and at-
ſoone moody to be mov'd,

Ben. And what too?

Mer. Nay, and there were two ſuch, we ſhould have
none shortly, for one would kill the other: thou, why thou
wilt quarrell with a man that hath a haire more, or a haire
liffe in his beard, then thou haſt: thou wilt quarrell with a
man for cracking Nuts, having no other reaſon, but be-
cauſe thou haſt haſſell eyes; what eye, but ſuch an eye,
would ſpy out ſuch a quarrell ? thy head is as full of quar-
rts, as an egge is full of meat, and yet thy head hath bin
beaten as addeles as an egge for quarreling: thou haſt quar-
rled with a man for coiling in the ſtreet, becauſe he hath
wakened thy Dog that hath laine aſſeep 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 ſhooes
with old Riband, and yet thou wilt Tutor me from quar-
relling?

Ben. And I were ſo apt to quarrell as thou art, any man
thou should buy the Fee-ſimple of my life, for an houre and a
quarter.

Mr. The Fee-ſimple ? O ſimple.

Enter Tybalt, Petruchio, and others.

Ben. By my head here come the Capulets,

Mr. By my hede I care not,

Tib. Follow me close, for I will ſpeake 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 fir, and you
will give me occaſion.

Mercu. Could you not take ſome occaſion without
giving?

Tib. Mercutio thou confort'ſt with Romeo,

Mer. Confort? what doſt thou make us Minſtrels? and
thou make Minſtrels of us, looke to heare nothing but dif-
cords: here's my fiddlſticke, here's that ſhall make you
dance. Come confort.

Ben. We talke here in the publike haunt of men:
Either withdraw unto ſome private place,

Or reaſon coldly of your greevances:

Or eſſe depart, here all eyes gaze on us.

Mer. Mens eyes were made to looke, and let them gaze
I will not budge for no man's pleafure I.

Enter Romeo.

Tib. Well peace be with you fir, here comes my man.

Mr. But Ile be hang'd fir if he weare your Livery:

Marry goe before to field, heele be your follower,
Your worſhip in that ſenſe, may call him man.

Tib, Romeo, the love I beare thee, can affoord

No better terme then this. Thou art a Villaine.

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 me not.

Tib. Boy, this ſhall not excufe the iniures

That thou haſt done me, therefore turne and draw,

Rom. I do proteſt I never iniur'd thee,

But lov'd thee better then thou can't devife:

Till thou haſt know the reaſon of my love,

And ſo good Capulets, which name I tender

As dearely as my owne, be ſatisfied.

Mr. O calme, diſhonourable, vile ſubmission
Allaſtucatho carries is away.

Tibalt, you Rat-catcher, will you walke?

Tib. What woulds thou have with me?

Mr. Good King of Cats, nothing but one of your nine
lives, that I meane to make bold withall, and as you ſhall
uſe me hereafter dry beate the reſt of the eight. Will you
plucke your Sword out of his Pilcher by the eares? Make
haſt, leaſt mine be about your eares ere it be out.

Tib. I am for you.

Rom. Gentle Mercutio, put thy Rapier up,

Mr. Come fir, your Paſlado.

Rom, Draw, Bennulio, beat downe their weapons:

Gentlemen, for ſhame forbeare this outrage,

Tibalt, Mercutio, the Prince expreſſly hath

Forbidden bandying in Verona ſtreetes.

Hold Tybalt, good Mercutio.

Exits 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 ſcrath, a ſcratch, marry 'tis inough,

Where is my Page? go Villaine fetch a Surgeon,

Rom. Courage man, the hurt cannot be much,

Mr. Noi'tis not ſo deepe as a well, nor ſo wide as a
Church doore, but 'tis inough, 'twill ferue: aske for me to
morrow, and you ſhall find me a graue 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 ſcratch a man to
death: a Braggart, a Rogue, a Villaine: that rights by the
booke of Arichmeticke, why the deuile came you be-
tweene vs? I was hurt under your arme.

Rom. I thought all for the beſt.

Mr. Helpe me into ſome houſe Bennulio,

Or I ſhall faſt: a plague a both your houſes.

They have made wormes meate of me,

I

94

I have it, and foundly too your Houfes.

Exit.

Rom. This Gentleman the Princes neere Allie,
My very Friend hath got his mortall hurt
In my behalfe,my reputation stain'd
With *Tibaltis* flaunder,*Tybalt* that an houre
Hath beene my Cozin:O Sweet *Juliet*,
Thy Beauty hath made me Effeminate,
And in my temper softned Valours steele.

Enter Benuolio.

Ben. O Romeo, Romeo, brave Mercutio's dead,
That Gallant spirit hath asp'd the Cloudes,
Which too untimely here did fcorne the earth.

Rom. This daies blacke Fate, on mo daies doe depend,
This but begins, the woe others muft end.

Enter Tybalt.

Ben. Here comes the Furious *Tybalt* backe againe.

Rom. He goa in triumph, and *Mercutio* flaine?
Away to heaven respective Lenity,
And fire and Fury, be my conduct now.

Now *Tybalt* take the Villaine backe againe
That late thou gav'st me, for *Mercutio's* foule,

Is but a little way aboue our heads,
Staying for thine to keepe him company.

Either thou or I, or both, muft goe with him.

Tib. Thou wretched Boy that didst confort him here,
Shalt with him hence.

Rom. This shall determine that.

They fight. *Tybalt* falles.

Ben. Romeo, away be gone:

The Citizens are up, and *Tybalt* flaine,
Stand not amaz'd, the Prince will Doome thee death
If thou art taken: hence, be gone, away.

Rom. O! I am Fortunes foole,

Ben. Why doft thou stay?

Exit Romeo.

Enter Citizens.

Citi. Which way ran he that kild *Mercutio*?

*Tybalt* that Murtherer, which way ran he?

Ben. There lies that *Tybalt*.

Citi. Vp fir go with me:

I charge thee in the Princes name obey.

Enter Prince, old Mountague, Capulet, their
Wives and all.

Prin. Where are the vild beginners of this Fray?

Ben. O Noble Prince, I can difcover all

The unluckie Mannage of this fatall brall:
There lies the man flaine 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 spild,
Of my deare kinfman, Prince as thou art true,
For blood of ours, shed blood of *Mountague*.

O Cozin, Cozin,

Prin. Benuolio, who began this Fray?

Ben. *Tybalt* here flaine, whom Romeo's hand did flay,
Romeo that spoke him faire, bid him bethinke
How nice the Quarrell was, and urg'd withall
Your high difpleasure: all this uttered,

With gentle breath, calme looke, knees humbly bow'd
Could not take truce with the unruly fleene
Of *Tybalt* deafe to peace, but that he Tilts
With Peircing steele at bold *Mercutio's* breakfast,

Who all as hor, turnes deadly point to point,
And with a Martiall scorne, with one hand beats
Cold death aſide, and with the other fends
It backe to *Tybalt*, whose dexterity

Retorts it: Romeo he cries aloud,
Hold Friends, Friends part, and wiffter then his tongue,
His able arme, beats downe their fatall points,
And twixt them rufhes, underneath whose arme,
An enuious thrust from *Tybalt*, hit the life
Of ſtout *Mercutio*, and then *Tybalt* fled.
But by and by comes backe to Romeo,
Who had but newly entertained Revenge,
And too't they goe like lightning, for ere I
Could draw to part them, was ſtout *Tybalt* flaine:
And as he fell, did Romeo turne and fly:
This is the truth, or let Benuolio die.

Cap. Wi. He is a kinfman to the Mountague,
Affection makes him falſe, he ſpeakes not true.
Some twenty of them fought in this blacke ſfrife,
And all that ſwenty could but kill one life.
I beg for luſtice, which thou Prince muſt give:
Romeo flew *Tybalt*, Romeo muſt not live.

Prin. Romeo flew him, he flew *Mercutio*,
Who now the price of his deare blood doth owe.

Cap. Not *Romeo* Prince, he was *Mercutios* Friend,
His fault concludes but, what the law ſhould end,
The life of *Tybalt*.

Prin. And for that offence,
Immediately we doe exile him hence:
I have an intereſt in your hearts proceeding:
My blood for your rude braules doth a ſleeding.
But Ile Ameŕce you with ſo ſtrong a fine,
That you shall all repent the loſſe of mine.
I will be deafe to pleading and excufes,
Nor teares, nor prayers shall purchase our abufes.
Therefore uſe none, let *Romeo* hence in haſt,
Elſe when he is found, that houre is his laſt.
Beare hence this body, and attend our will:
Mercy but Murders, pardoning thate that kill.

Exeunt.

Enter Juliet alone.

Jul. Gallop apace, you ſicry footed ſteedes,
Toward *Phæbus* lodging, ſuch a Wagoner
As *Phæton* would whip you to the weſt,
And bring in Cloudy night immediately,
Spred thy cloſe Curtaine Love-performing night,
That run-awaies eyes may wincke, and *Romeo*
Leapt to theſe armes, untalkt of and unſeene,
Lovers can fee to doe their Amorous rights,
By their owne Beauties: or if Love be blind,
It beſt agrees with night: come civil night,
Thou ſober ſuted Matron all in blacke,
And learne me how to loofe a winnig match,
Plaid for a paire of ſtainleſſe Maidenheads,
Hood my unman'd blood bayting in my Cheekes,
With thy blacke mantle, till ſtrange Love grow bold,
Thinke true Love acted ſimple modeſtly:
Come night, come *Romeo*, come thou day in night,
For thou wilt lie upon the wings of night,
Whiter then new Snow on a Ravens backe:
Come gentle night, come loving blacke brow'd night.
Give me my *Romeo*, and when I shall die,
Take him and cut him out in little starres,
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 poſſeſt it, and though I am ſold,
Not yet enjoy'd, ſo tedious is this day,
As is the night before some Feſtuall,

To

["The Tragedy of Romeo and Juliet.", "What is the Prince's Doome?", "What if now craves acquaintance at my hand,\nThat I yet know not?", "Fri. Too familiar", "Is my dear Sonne with such fowre Company:", "I bring thee tydings of the Princes Doome.", "Rom. What leffe then Doome today,", "I sth: the Princes Doome?", "Fri. A gentler iudgement vanifhed from his lips,", "Not bodies death, but bodies banifhment.", "Rom. Ha, banifhment? be mercifull, fay death:", "For exile hath more terror in his looke,", "Much more then death: do not fay banifhment.", "Fri. Here from Verona art thou banifhed:", "Be patient, for the world is broad and wide.", "Rom. There is no world without Verona walles,\nBut Purgatory, Torture, hell it selfe:", "Hence banifhed, is banifht from the world,", "And worlds exile is death. Then banifhed,", "Is death, miſlearn'd, calling death banifhed,", "Thou cutt my head off with a golden Axe,", "And ſinleft upon the ſtroke that murders me.", "Fri. O deadly ſin, O rude unthankſullneſſe!", "Thy fault our Law calles death, but the kind Prince.", "Taking thy part hath ruſht alſide the Law,", "And turn'd that blacke word death, to banifhment.", "This is deare mercy, and thou ſeek it not.", "Rom. 'Tis Torture and not mercy, heaven is here", "Where Juliet lives, and every Cat and Dog,", "and little Monſe, every unworthy thing", "Live here in Heaven and may looke on her,", "Bnt Romeo may not, More Validity,", "More Honourable ſtate, more Courtſhip lives", "In carrion Flies, then Romeo: they may ſeaze.", "On the white wonder of deare Juliet's hand,", "And ſtate immortal ſleffing from her lips,", "Who even in pure and veſtall modeſtly.", "Still blaſh, as thinking their owne kiffes ſin.", "This may Flies doe, when I from this muſt ſie,", "And ſaith thou yet, that exile is not death ?", "But Romeo may not, hee is banifhed.", "Had ſt thou no poyſon mixt, no sharpt ground knife,", "No ſudden meane of death, though nere ſo meane,", "But banifhed to kill me? Banifhed?", "O Frier, the damned uſe that word in hell:", "Howlings attend it, how haſt thou the heart", "Being a Divine, a Ghoſtly Confessor,", "A Sin-Abſoluer, and my friend profet:", "To mangle me with that word banifhed ?", "Fri. Fond Mad man, heare me ſpeake.", "Rom. O thou wilt ſpeake againe of banifhment.", "Fri. Ile give the Armour to keepe off that word,", "Adverſities ſweet milke, Philofophy,", "To comfort thee, though thou art banifhed.", "Rom. Yet banifhed? hang up Philofophy:", "Unleſſe Philofophie can make a Juliet,", "Displant a Towne, renerſe a Princes Doome,", "It helps not, it prevails not, talke no more:", "Fri. O then I fee, that Madmen have no cares.", "Rom. How should they,", "When wifemen have no eyes?", "Fri. Let me diſpaire with thee of thy ſtate.", "Rom. Thou can't not ſpeake of that thou doſt not ſeel,", "Wert thou as young as Juliet my Lover.", "An houre but married, Tybalt murdred,", "Doting like me, and like me banifhed,", "Then mighteſt thou ſpeake,", "Then mighteſt thou teare thy hayre,", "And fall upon the ground as I doe now,", "Taking the meaſure of an unmaſed grave,", "Enter Nurſe, and knocker.", "Fri. Arife one knocker,", "Good Romeo hide thy ſelfe.", "Rom. Not I,", "Vnleſſe the breath of Heartſicke groanes", "Mift-like infold me from the ſearch of eyes.", "Fri. Harke how they knuckle", "Knock.", "(Who's there?) Romeo arife,", "Thou wilt be taken ſlay a while ſtand up:", "Knock.", "Run to my ſtudy: by and by, Gods will", "What ſimplenefle is this: I come, I come,", "Knoke.", "Who knockes ſo hard?", "Whenc come you? what's your will ?", "Enter Nurſe.", "Nur. Let me come in.", "And you ſhall know my errand:", "I come from Lady Juliet.", "Fri. Welcome then.", "Nur. O holy Frier, O tell me holy Frier,", "Wher's my Ladies Lord? wher's Romeo?", "Fri. There on the ground,", "With his owne teares made druncke.", "Nur. O he is even in my Miftrefle cauſe,", "Luſt in her caſe, O wofull ſimpathy:", "Pittious predicament, even ſo liles ſhe,", "Blubbring and weeping, weeping and blubbring,", "Stand up, stand up, stand and you be a man,", "For Inliets ſake, for her ſake rife and stand:", "Why should you fall into ſo deep an O,", "Rom. Nurſe.", "Nur. Ah fir, ah fir, deaths the end of all.", "Rom. Speak'ſt thou of Juliet? how is it with her?", "Doth not ſhink me an old Murtherer,", "Now I have ſtain'd the Childhood of our ioy,", "With blood removed, but little from her owne?", "Where is he? and how doth he? and what faſes", "My conceal'd Lady to our conceal'd Love?", "A Nur. Oh the fayes nothing fir, but weepes and weepes,", "And now falls on her bed, and then ſtarts up,", "And Tybalt calls, and then on Romeo cries,", "And then downe falls againe.", "Ro. As if that name ſnot from the deadly levell of a Gun,", "Did murder her, as that names curſed hand", "Murdred her kinaſman. Oh tell me Frier, tell me,", "In what vile part of this Anoramy", "Doth my name lodge? Tell me, that I may ſacke", "The hatefull Manſion,", "Fri. Hold thy deſperate hand:", "Art thou a man? thy forme cries on: thou art:", "Thy teares are womaniſh, thy wild acts do ſo note", {"bbox": [7

["98", "The Tragedy of Romeo and Juliet.", "Since arme from arme'that voyce doth us affray,\nHunting thee hence, with Hunt-up to the day,", "O now be gone, more light and it light growes.", "Rom. More light & light, more darke & darke our woes.", "Enter Madam and Nurse.", "N. or. Madam.", "Iul. Nurfe.", "N. u. Your Lady Mother is comming to your chamber,\nThe day is broke, be wary, looke about,", "Iul. Then window let day in, and let life out.", "Rom. Farewell, farewell, one kiffe and Ile descend.", "Iul. Art thou gone for Love, Lord, ah Husband, Friend,\nI muft beare from thee every day in the houre,", "For in a minutethere are many dayes,", "O by this count I shall be much in yeares,", "Ere I againe behold my Romeo.", "Rom. Farewell:", "I will omit no oportunity,", "That may convey my greetings Love, to thee.", "Iul. O thinkeft thou we shall ever meet againe?", "Rom. I doubt it not; and all thefe woes shall ferve", "For weefed difcourfes in our time to come.", "Iul. O God! I have an ill Divining foule,", "Me thinkes I fee thee now, thou art fo lowe,", "As one dead in the Bottome of a Tombe,", "Either my eye-fight failes, or thou look't pale.", "Rom. And trust me, Love, in my eye so do you:", "Dry forrow drinkes our blood. Adue, adue.", "Exits.", "Iul. O Fortune, Fortune, all men call thee fickle,", "If thou art fickle, what doft thou with him", "That is renown'd for faith? be fickle Fortune:", "For then I hope thou wilt not keepe him long,\nBut fend him backe.", "Enter Mother.", "Lad. Ho Daughter, are you up?", "Iul. Who if that calls? Is it my Lady Mother?", "Is she not downe so late, or up so early?", "What unaccuſtom'd caufe procures her hither?", "Lad. Why how now Iuliet?", "Iul. Madam I am not well.", "Lad. Evermore weeping for your Cozins death?", "What wilt thou waſh him from his grave with teares?", "And if thou could'ſt, thou could'ſt not make him live:", "Therefore have done, ſome griefe ſhewes much of Love,\nBut much of griefe, ſhewes ſtill ſome want of wit.", "Iul. Yet let me weeepe, for ſuch a feeling loffe.", "Lad. So ſhall you feele the loffe, but not the Friend", "Which you weepe for.", "Iul. Feeling so the loffe,", "I cannot chufe but ever weepe the Friend.", "La. Well Girle, thou weep'ſt not so much for his death,\nAs that the Villaine lives which flaunder'd him.", "Iul. What Villaine, Madam?", "Lad. That fame Villaine Romeo.", "Iul. Villaine and he, be many Miles affunder:", "God pardon him, I doe with all my heart,", "And yet no man like he, doth grieve my heart.", "Lad. That is becauſe the Traitor lives.", "Iul. I Madam from the reach of theſe my hands:", "Would none but I might venge my Cozins death.", "La. We will have vengeance for it, feare thou not.", "Then weepe no more, Ile fend to one in Mansua,", "Where that fame banisht Run-agaſt doth live,", "Shall give him ſuch an unaccuſtom'd dram,", "That he ſhall foone keepe Tybalt company:", "And then I hope thou wilt be ſatisfied.", "Iul. Indeed I never ſhall be ſatisfied", "With Romeo, till I behold him. Dead", "Is my poore heart ſo for a kinfman vext:", "Madam if you could find out but a man", "To beare a poifon, I would temper it;", "That Romeo should upon receit thereof,", "Soone fleepe in quiet. O how my heart abhors", "To beare him nam'd, and cannot come to him,", "To wreaſe the Love I bore my Cozin, Tybalt", "Vpon his body that hath ſlaughter'd him.", "Mo. Find thou the meanes, and Ile find ſuch a man,\nBut now Ile tell thee joyfull tidings Girle,", "Iul. And joy comes well, in ſuch a needy time,\nWhat are they, I beſeech 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 exped'st not, nor I looke not for.", "Iul. Madam in happy time, what day is this?", "Mo. Marry my Child, early next Thursday morne,", "The gallant, young, and Noble Gentleman,", "The County Paris at Saint Peters Church,", "Shall happily make thee a joyfull Bride.", "Iul. Now by Saint Peters Church, and Peter too,\nHe shall not make me there a joyfull Bride.", "I wonder at this haſt, that I muſt weſ", "Ere he that ſhould be Husband comes to woe.", "I pray you tell my Lord and Father Madam", "I will not marry yet, and when I doe, I ſwear", "It ſhall be Romeo, whom you know I hate", "Rather then Paris. Theſe are newes indeed.", "Mo. Here comes your Father, tell him so your ſelfe,\nAnd fee how he will take it at you hands,", "Enter Capulet and Nurse.", "Cap. When the Sun fets, the earth doth drizzle dew;\nBut for the Sunet of my Brothers Sonne,\nIt raines downright.", "How now? A Conduit Girle, what ſtill in teares?", "Ever more ſhowring in one little body?", "Thou counterfeits a Barke, a Sea, a Wind:", "For ſtill thy eyes, which I may call the Sea,", "Do ebbe and flow with teares, the Barke thy body", "Sailing in this ſalt flood, the winde thy fighſes,", "Who raging with the teares and they with them,", "Without a ſudden calme will over ſet", "Thy tempeſt-toſed body. How now wife?", "Have you delivered to her our decree?", "Lad. I fir;", "But ſhe will none, ſhe gives you thankes,", "I would the ſoſle were married to her grave.", "Cap. Soft, take me with you, take me with you wife,\nHow, will the none doth the not give us thanks?", "Is the not proud? doth ſhe not count her bleſt,", "Vnworthy as ſhe is, that we have wrought", "So worthy a Gentleman, to be her Bridegroome?", "Iul. Not proud you have,", "But thankfull that you have:", "Proud can I never be of what I have,", "But thankfull even for hate, that is meant Love.", "Cap. How now?", "How now? Chopt Logicke? what is this?", "Proud, and I thanke you; and I thanke

["100", "The Tragedy of Romeo and Juliet.", "Iul. The teares have got small victorie by that:", "For it was bad enough before their spight.", "Pa. Thou wrong'd it more then teares with that report", "Iul. That is no flaunder fir, which is truth,", "And what I spake, I spake it to my face.", "Par. Thy face is mine, and thou haft flaundred it.", "Iul. It may be so, for it is not mine owne.", "Are you at leisure, Holy Father now,", "Or shall I come to you at evening Maffee?", "Fri. My leisure serves me penfive daughter now.", "My Lord I must intertreat the time alone.", "Par. Godfheid: I should difturbe Devotion,", "Iuliet, on Thursday early will I rowe yee,", "Till then adue, and keepe this holy kifle.", "Iul. O shut the door, and when thou haft done so,", "Come weepe with me, paft hope, paft care, paft helpe,", "Fri. O Iuliet, I already know thy griefe,", "It hraines me paft the compafle of my wits:", "I heare thou maſt, and nothing may prorogue it,", "On Thursday next be married to this Count,", "Iul. Tell me not Frier that thou beareſt of this,", "Vnleſſe thou tell me how I may prevent it:", "If in thy wifedome, thou canſt give no helpe,", "Doth thou but call my reſolution wife,", "And with this knife, Ile helpe it prefently.", "God joyn'd my heart, and *Romeos*, thou our hands,", "And ere this hand by thee to *Romeo* feal'd:", "Shall be the Labell to another Deede,", "Or my true heart with trecherous revolt.", "Turne to another, this ſhall flay them both:", "Therefore out of thy long experience it time,", "Give me fome prefent countell, or behold", "Twixt my extreames and me, this bloody knife", "Shall play the umpire, arbitrating that,", "Which the commission of thy yeares and art,", "Could to no ifſue of true honour bring:", "Be not ſo long to Ipeak, I long to die,", "If what thou Ipeak it, I peake not of remedy.", "Fri. Hold Daughter, I doe ſpie a kind of hope,", "Which craves as desperate an execution,", "Aſt his is desperate which we would prevent.", "If rather then to marry Countie Paris", "Thou haſt the ſtrength of will to lay thy ſelſe,", "Then is it likely thou wilt undertake", "A thing like death to chide away this ſhame,", "That coap it with death him ſefe, to ſcape fro it:", "And if thou dar't, Ile give thee remedy.", "Iul. O bid me leape, rather then marry Paris,", "From of the Battlements of any Tower,", "Or walke in theeſiſh waeſ, or bid me lurke", "Where Serpents are: chaine me with roaring Beares", "Or hide me nightly in a Charnell houſe,", "Orecovered quite with dead mens ratling bones,", "With recky ſhankes aed yellow chappleſſe ſculſs:", "Or bid me go into a new made grave,", "And hide me with a dead man in his grave,", "Things that to heare them told, have made me tremble,", "And I will doe it without ſeare or doubt,", "To live an vnſtaind wife to my sweet Love.", "Fri. Hold then: goe home be merry, give consent.", "To marry Paris: wendſay is to morrow,", "To morrow night looke that thou lie alone,", "Let not thy Nurſe lie with thee in thy Chamber.", "Take thou this Violl being then in bed,", "And this diffilling liquor drinke thou off,", "When prefently through all thy yeines ſhall run,", "A cold and drowſe humour for no pulſe", "Shall keepe his native progreſſe, but ſurceſe:", "No warmth, no breath shall reſtife thou liveſt,", "The Rofes in thy lips and cheekes ſhall fade", "To mealy affes, the eyes windowes fall", "Like death when he ſhuts up the day of life:", "Each part depriv'd of ſupple government,", "Shall stife and ſtarke, and cold appeare like death,", "And in this borrowed likeneſſe of thrunk death", "Thou haſt continue two and forty hours,", "And then awake, as from a pleafant ſleep.", "Now when the Bridegroome in the morning comes,", "To rowſe the from thy bed, there art thou dead:", "Then as the manner of our country is,", "In thy beſt Robes uncover'd on the Beere,", "Be borne to buriall in thy kindreds grave:", "Thou haſt be ſorne to that fame antient vault,", "Where all the kindred of the Capulets lie,", "In the meane time againſt thou haſt awake,", "Shall *Romeo* by my Letters know our drift,", "And hither ſhall he come, and that very night", "Shall *Romeo* beare thee hence to *Mantua*.", "And this ſhall free thee from this prefent ſhame,", "If no inſconſtant toy nor womaniſh ſeare,", "Abate thy valour in the acting it.", "Iul. Give me, give me, O tell not me of ſeare.", "Fri. Hold you gone, be ſtrong and ſproſerous!", "In this reſolve, Ile ſend a Frier with ſpeed", "To *Mantua* with my Letters to thy Lord.", "Iul. Love give me ſtrength,", "And ſtrength shall helpe afford:", "Farewell deare father.", "Exit.", "Enter Father Capulet, Mother, Nurfe, and\nſerving men, two or three.", "Cap. So many gueſts invite as here are writ,", "Sirrah, go hire me twenty cunning Cookes.", "Ser. You ſhall have none ill fir, for Ile trie if they can\nlicke their fingers.", "Cap. How canſt thou trie them for?", "Ser. Marry fir, tis an ill Cooke that cannot licke his\nowne ſingers; therefore he that cannot licke his ſingers\ngoes not with me.", "Cap. Go be gone, we ſhall be much unfuſnicht for this\ntime: what is my Daughter gone to Frier *Lawrence*?", "Nur. I for ſtooth.", "Cap. Well he may, chance to do ſome good on her,\nA peeviſh ſelſe-wild harlotry it is.", "Enter Iuliet.", "Nur. See where ſhe comes from ſhrift.", "With merry looke", "Cap. How now my headstrong,", "Where have you bin gadding?", "Iul. Where I have learnt me to repent the fin\nOf diſobedient oppofition:", "To you and your beheſts, and am enjoyn'd", "By holy *Lawrence*, to fall proſtrate here,", "To beg your pardon: pardon I be

["The Tragedy of Romeo and Juliet.", "101", "This is as't should be, let me see the County:", "I marry go I fay, and fetch him hither.", "Now afore God, this reverend holy Frier,", "All our whole City is much bound to him.", "Int. Nurfe will you goe with me into my Clofet,\nTo help me for tuch needfull ornaments,\nAs you thinke fit to furnifh me to morrow?", "Mo. No not till Thursday, there is time inough", "Fa. Go Nurfe, go with her,", "Weele to Church to morrow.", "Exeunt Juliet and Nurfe.", "Mo. We shall be short in our provision,\nTis now neere night.", "Fa. Tuft, I will fire about,", "And all things shall be well, I warrant thee wife:", "Gothou to Juliet, helpe to deckup 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 wake my felfe\nTo County Paris, to prepare him up", "To County Paris, to prepare him up", "Again to morrow, my heart is wondrous light,", "Since this fame wayward Gyre is fo reclam'd.", "Exeunt Father and Mother.", "Enter Juliet and Nurfe.", "Ind. I thofe attires be fit, but gentle Nurfe", "I pray thee leaue me to my felfe to night:", "For I have need of many Orylons,", "To move the heavens to ſmile upon my ſtate,\nWhich well thou knowſt, is croſſe and full of fin.", "Enter Mother.", "Mo. What are you buſe ho need you my help?", "Iul. No Madam, we have cull'd ſuch neceflaries", "As are behoonefull for our ſtate to morrow:", "Sopleafe you, let me now be left alone;", "And let the Nurfe this night fit up with you,", "For I am ſure, you have your hands full all,", "In this ſo ſudden buſineſſe.", "Mo. Goodnight.", "Get thee to bed and reſt, for thou haſt need.", "Exeunt.", "Iul. Farewell:", "God knowes when we ſhall meete againe.", "I have a faint cold feare thrills through my veines,", "That almoſt freezes up the heate of fire:", "Ile call them backe againe to comfort me.", "Nurfe, what ſhould the do here?", "My diſmal Scene, I needs muſt act alone:", "Come Viall, what if this mixture do not worke 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", "Subtillly hath minſtred to have me dead,", "Left in this marriage he ſhould be diſhonour'd,", "Becaufe he married me before to Romeo?", "I feare it is, and yet me thinkes it ſhould not.", "For he hath ſtill beene tried a holy man.", "How, if when I am laid into the Tombe,", "I wake before the time that Romeo", "Come to redeem me? There's a fearefull point:", "Shall I not then be ſtiffed in the Vault?", "To whole foule mouth no healthſome ayre breaths in,", "And there die flangled 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 yeeres the bones\nOf all my buried Auſeſtors are packt,", "Where bloody Tibalt, yet but greene in earth,", "Lies ſeſtring in his ſhrow'd, where as they ſay,", "At ſome houres in the night, Spirits reſort:", "Alacke, alack is it not like that I", "So early waking, what with loathſome ſmels,", "And ſhrikes like Mandrakes torne out of the earth,", "That living mortals hearing them, runt mad.", "Or if I wake, ſhall I not be diſtraught,", "Invironed with all theſe hideous ſeares,", "And madly play with my forefathers joynts?", "And plucke the mangled Tibalt from his ſhrow'd?", "And in this rage, with ſome great inſimans bone,", "As (with a club) dafh out my deſperate brains.", "O looke, me thinks I fee my Cozins Ghoſt,", "Seeking out Romeo that did ſpit his body", "Vpon his Rapiers pointſtay Tibalt, ſay;", "Rome, Romeo, Romeo, here's drinke: I drinke to thee.", "Enter Lady of the bonſe, and Nurſe.", "Lady. Hold,", "Take theſe keies, and fetch more ſpices Nurſe,", "Nur. They call for Dates and Quinces in the Paſtrie,", "Enter old Capulet.", "Cap. Come, flt, flt, flt, flt,", "The ſecond Cocke hath Crow'd,", "The Curphew Bell hath rung, tis three a clocke:", "Looke to the bakte meates, good Angelica,", "Spare not for coſt.", "Nur. Go you Got-queane, go,", "Get you to bed, faith youlde be ſicke to morrow", "For this nights watching.", "Cap. No not a whit, what? I have watcht ere now", "All night for a leſſe cauſe, and neere beene ſicke,", "La. I you have bin a Mouſe-hunt in your time,", "But I will watch you from ſuch wath'ring now.", "Exit Lady and Nurſe.", "Cap. A jealous hood, a jealous hood,", "Now fellow, what's there?", "Enter three or ſoure with spitts, and logs, and baskets.", "Fel. Things for the Cooke fir, but I know not what.", "Cap. Make haſt, make haſt, firrha, fetch drier Logs.", "Call Peter, he will ſhow thee where they are.", "Fel. I have a head fir, that will find out logs,", "And never trouble Peter for the matter.", "Cap. Maffe and well ſaid, a merry horſon, ha,", "Thou haſt be loggerhead, good Faith, tis day.", "Play Muficke.", "The County will be here with Muficke ſtraight,", "For so he ſaid he would, I heare him neere,", "Nurſe, wife, what ho'w hat Nurſe I ſay?", "Enter Nurſe.", "Go waken Iuliet, go and trim her up,", "Ile go and chat with Paris; hie, make haſt,", "Make haſt, the Bridegroome, he is come already;", "Make haſt I ſay.", "Nur. Miftris, what Miftris? Iuliet? Faſt I warrant her.", "Why Lambe, why Lady? ſie you fluggabed,", {"bbox": [469, 1205,

102

I must needs wake her:Madam,Madam,Madam,
I let the County take you in your bed;
Heele fright you up yfaith. Will it not be?
What dreft, and in your clothes,and downe againe?
I must needs wake you:Lady,Lady,Lady?
Alas,alas,helpe,helpe,my Ladys dead,
On weladay, that ever I was borne,
Some Aqua-vitæ ho,my Lord,my Lady?

Mo. What noie is here?

Enter Mother.

Nur. O lamentable day.

Mo. What is the matter?

Nur. Looke,looke,oh heavy day.

Mo. O me, O me, my Child, my onely life!

Revive,looke up, or I will die with thee:

Helpe, helpe, call helpe.

Enter Father.

Fa. For shame bring Juliet forth, her Lord is come.

Nur. Shee's dead: deceaft, shee's dead; alacke the day.

M. Alacke the day, shee's dead, shee's dead, shee's dead.

Fa. Ha? Let me see her: out alas, shee's cold,

Her blood is fetled and her joynts are stffe:

Life and these lips have long bene separated:

Death lies on her like an untimely frost

Vpon the fwetest flower of all the field.

Nur. O Lamentable day!

Mo. O wofull time.

Fa. Death that hath tane her hence to make me waile,
Ties up my tongue, and will not let me speake.

Enter Friar and the County.

Fri. Come, is the Bride ready to go to Church?

Fa. Ready to go, but never to returne.

O Sonne, the night before thy wedding day,
Hath death laine with thy wife: see there she lies,
Flower as she was, deflowred now by him.

Death is my Sonne in law, death is my Heire,

My Daughter he hath wedded. I will die,

And leave him all life living, all is deaths.

Fa. Have I thought long to fee this mornings face,
And doth it give me fuch a fight as this?

Mo. Accur'ft, unhappy, wretched, hatefull day,

Moft miferable houre, that ere time faw

In lafting labour of his Pilgrimage.

But one, poore one, one poore and loving Child,

But one thing to rejoyce and folace in,

And cruell death hath catcht it from my fight.

Nur. O wo, O wofull, wofull, wofull day,

Moft lamentable day, moft wofull day,

That ever, ever, I did yet behold.

O day, O day, O day, O hatefull day,

Never was feene so blacke a day as this:

O wofull day, O wofull day.

Fa. Beguild, divorced, wronged, spighted, flaine,
Moft deteftable death, by thee beguil'd,

By cruell, cruell thee quite overthrowne:

O love, O life, not life, but lone in death.

Fa. Defpis'd, diftrefled, hated, martir'd, kil'd,
Vncomfortable time, why cam'ft thou now

To murther, murther our Solemnity?

O Child, O Child: my foule, and not my Child,
Dead art thou, alacke my Child is dead,

And with my Child, my joyes are buried,

Fri. Peace ho for shame, confusions: Care lives not
In thefe confusions, heaven and your felfe

Had part in this faire Maid, now heaven hath all,
And all the better is it for the Maid:

Your part in her, you could not keepe from death,

But heaven kepes his part in eternall life:
The moft you fought was her promotion,
For 'twas your heaven, that she should be advanc't.
And weepe ye now, seeing she is advanc't.

Above the Cloudes, as high as Heaven it selfe?

O in this love, you love your Child so ill,

That you run mad, seeing that she is well:

Shee's not well married, that lives married long,

But shee's beft married, that dies married young.

Drie vp your teares, and flicke your Rofemarie

On this faire Coarfe, and as the custome is

And in her beft array beare her to Church:

For though fond Nature bids all us lament,

Yet Natures teares are Reasons merriment.

Fa. All things that we ordained Festivall,

Turne from their eſtice to blacke Funerall:

Our inſtruments to melancholy Bells

Our wedding cheare, to a fad buriall Feaſt:

Our tolemne Hymnes, to ſullen Dyrges change;

Our Bridall 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 fir Paris, every one prepare

To follow this faire Coarſe unto her grave:

The heavens do lowre upon you, for ſome ill:

Move them no more, by croffing their high will. Exemm,

Mu. Faith we may put up our Pipes and be gone.

Nur. Honef't goodfellows: Ah put up put up,

For well you know, this is a pittifull cafe.

Mu. I by my troth, the cafe may be amended.

Enter Peter.

Pet. Muſitians, of Muſitians,

Hearts eafe, hearts eafe,

O, and you will have me live, play hearts eafe.

Mu. Why hearts eafe?

Pet. O Muſitians,

Becaufe my heart it ſelfe plaies, my heart is full.

Mu. Not 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 gleeke.

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 cary no Crochets, Ile Re you, Ile fay you,
do you note me?

Mu. And you Re us, and Fa us, you Note us.

2. M. Pray you put up your Dagger,

And put out your wit.

Then have at you with my wit.

Pet. I will dry heate you with an yron wit,

And put up my yron Dagger.

Anſwere me like men:

When griping griefes the heart doth wound, then Mu-
fickewith her filver found.

Why filver found? why Muſicke with her filver found?

what ſay you Simon Catling?

Mu. Mary fir, becaufe filver hath a sweet found.

Pet. Prateſt, what ſay you Hugh Reſbicker?

2. M. I ſay filver found, becaufe Muſitians found for fil-

Pet. Prateſt to, what ſay you James Sounſd-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 Muſicke with her filver found,

Be-

Because Mufitians have no gold for founding:
Then Muficke with her silver found, with speedy helpe
doth lend redreffe.

Exit.

Mu. What a peftilent knave is this fame?

M.2. Hang him Jacke, come weele in here, tarry for
the Mourners, and fly dinner.

Exit.

Enter Romeo.

Rom. If I may truft the flattering truth of sleepe,
My dreames prefage fome joyfull newes at hands:
My bofomes Lord fits lightly in his throne:
And all this winged vnaccuftom'd ſpirit,
Lifts me above the ground with cheerefull thoughts.
I dreamt my Lady came and found me dead,
(Strange dreame that gives a dead man leave to thinke,)
And breath'd fuch life with kiffes in my lips,
That I reuic'd and was an Emperour.
Ah me, how Iweet is love it ſelfe poſſeft,
When but loves shadowes are so rich in joy.

Enter Romeo's man.

Newes from Verona, how now Balthazar?
Doft thou not bring me Letters from the Frier?
How doth my Lady? Is my Father well?
How doth my Lady Juliet? that I aske againe,
For nothing can be ill, if ſhe be well.

Ma. Then ſhe is well, and nothing can be ill.
Her body sleepe in Capels Monument,
And her immortall part with Angels lives
Iaw her laid low in her kindreds Vault.
And prefently tooke Poſſe 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 Starres.
Thou knoweſt my lodging, get me inke and paper,
And hire Poſt-Horſes, I will hence to night.

Ma. I do beſeech you fir, have patience:
Your looks are pale and wilde, and do import
Some miſadventure.

Rom. Tuff, thou art deceiv'd,

Leave me, and do the thing I bid thee doe:
Haſt thou no Letters to me from the Frier?

Ma. No, my good Lord.

Exit Man.

Rom. No matter: Get thee gone,
And hyre thofe Horſes, Ile be with thee ſtraight.
Well Iuliet, I will lie with thee to night:
Let me fee for meanes: O miſchione thou art ſwift,
To enter in the thoughts of delſperate men:
I do remember an Apothecary,
And here abouts he dwels, which late I noted:
In tattred weeds, with overwhelming browes,
Calling of Simples, meager were his lookes;
Sharpe unifere had worne him to the bones:
And in his needle ſhop a Tortoys hung,
An Allegator ſtuff, and other skins
Of ill ſhap'd ſilthes, and about his ſhelves,
A beggerly account of empty boxes,
Greene earthen pots, Bladders, and muſty feedes,
Remnants of packtred, and old cakes of Rofes
Were thinly ſcattered, to make up a ſhew.
Noting this penury, to my ſelfe I faid,
An if a man did need a poſſon now,
Whose ſale is prefent death in Mantua,
Here lives a Caitiffe wretch 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 ſhop is flut.
What ho? Apothecary?

Enter Apothecary.

App. Who call'st so low'd?

Rom. Come hither man, I fee that thou art poore,
Hold, there is forty Dukets, let me have
A dram of poſſon, ſuch foone ſpeeding geare,
As will dilperſe it ſelfe through all the veines,
That the life-weary-taker may fall dead,
And that the Trunke may be diſcharg'd of breath,
As violently, as haſty powder fir'd
Doth hurry from the fatall Canons wombe.

Ap. Such mortall drugs I have, but Mantua's law
Is death to any he, that vutters them.

Rom. Art thou to bare and full of wretchedneſſe,
And fear it to die? Famine is in thy cheekes,
Need and oppreſſion ſtarveth in thy eyes,
Conempt and beggery hang on thy backe!
The world is not thy friend, nor the worlds law:
The world affords no law to make thee rich.
Then be not poore, but breake it, and take this:

Ap. My poverty, but not my will contemns.

Rom. I pray thy poverty, and not thy will.

Ap. Put this in any liquid thing you will
And drinke it off, and if you had the ſtrength
Of twenty men, it would diſpatch you ſtraight.

Rom. There's thy Gold,
Worſe poſſon to mens foules,
Doing more murther in this loathſome world,
Then theſe poore compounds that thou mayſt not ſell.
I fell thee poſſon, thou haſt fold me none,
Farewell, buy food, and get thy ſelfe in fleſh.
Come Cordiall, and not poſſon, go with me
To Iuliet's 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 voice of Frier John.
Welcome from Mantua, what fayes Romе?

Or if mind be writ, give me his Letter.

Ioh. Going to find a bare-foote Brother out,
One of our order to affociate me,
Here in this City viſiting the ſick,
And finding him, the Searchers of the Towne
Sufpeſting that we both were in a houſe
Where the infectious pelltilence did raigne,
Seal'd up the doores, and would not let us forth,
So that my ſpeed to Mantua there was ſtaid.

Law. Who bare my Letter then to Romе?

Ioh. I could not ſend it, here it is againe,
Nor get a meſſenger to bring it thee,
So ſcarefull were they of infection.

Law. Vnhappy Fortune: by my Brotherhood
The Letter was not nice, but full of charge,
Of deare import, and the neglecting it
May do much danger: Frier John go hence,
Get me an Iron Crow, and bring it ſtraight
Vnto my Cell.

Ioh. Brother Ile go and bring it thee.

Law. Now muſt I to the Monument alone,
Within this three hours will faire Iuliet wake,
Shee will be fairew me much that Romeo
Hath had no notice of theſe accidents:
But I will write againe to Mantua,

Exit.

And

And keeps her at my Cell till *Romeo* come,
Poore 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 feene:
Vnder yond young Trees lay thee all alone,
Holding thy eare close to the hollow ground,
So shall no foot upon the Churchyard tread,
Being loofe, unfirme with digging up of Graves,
But thou shall heare it; whilfe then to me,
As fignall that thou hearest fome thing approach,
Give me thofe flowers. Do as I bid thee, go.

Pag. I am almost afraid to stand along
Here in the Churchyard, yet I will adventure.
Pa. Sweet Flower with flowers thy Bridall bed I strew:
O woe, thy Canopy is duft and itones,
Which with sweet water nightly I will dewe,
Or wanting that, with teares diff'till by mones;
The obfequies that I for thee will keepe,
Nightly shall be, to strew thy grave, and weepe.

Whistle Boy.

The Boy gives warning, something doth approach,
What curled foot wanders this way to night,
To croffe my obfequies, and true loves right?
What with a Torch? Muffle me night a while.

Enter Romeo, and Peter.

Rom. Give me that Mattocke, & 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 hear'st or feel'st, stand all aloofe,
And do not interrupt me in my courfe.
Why I descend 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 deare employment, therefore hence be gone:
But if thou jealous doſt returne to prie
In what I further ſhall intend to do,
By heaven I will teare thee joyn't by joyn't,
And strew this hungry Churchyard with thy limbs:
The time, and my intent's are favage wilde:
More fierce and more inexorable farre,
Then empty Tygers, or the roaring Sea.

Pet. I will be gone fir; and not trouble you
Po. So shall thou ſhew me friendſhip: take thou that,
Live and be profuſerous, and farewell good ſollow.
Pet. For all this fame, Ile hide me here about,
His lookes I feare, and his intent's I doubt.

Rom. Thou deteftable mawe, thou wombe of death,
Gorg'd with the deareft morſell of the earth:
Thus I enforce thy rotten lawes to open,
And in deſpight, Ile cram thee with more food.

Par. This is that banifht naughty *Mountague*,
That murdred my Loves Cozin; with which griefe,
It is ſuppoſed the faire Crefture died,
And here is come to do ſome villanous ſhame
To the dead bodies: I will apprehend him.
Stop thy unhallowed toyle, vile *Mountague*:
Can vengeance be purfued further then death?
Condemned villaine, I do apprehend thee,
Obey and go with me, for thou muſt die,

Rom. I muſt indeed, and therfore came I hither:
Good gentle youth, tempt not a desperate man,
Flie hence and leave me, thinke upon thofe gone,
Let them aff right thee. I befeech thee Youth,
Put not an other fin upon my head,
By urging me to fury. O be gone,
By heaven I love thee better then my ſelfe,
For I come hither arm'd againſt my ſelfe:
Stay not, be gone, live, and hereafter ſay,
A mad mans mercy bid thee run away.

Par. I do defie thy commifuration,
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 flaine, if thou be mercifull,
Open the Tombe, lay me with Juliet.

Rom. In faith I will, let me peruse this face,
Mercutius kinfman, Noble County *Paris*,
What faid my man, when my betoſſed foule
Did not attend him as we rode? I thinke
He told me *Paris* should have married *Juliet*.
Said he not for? Or did I dreame it for?
Or am I mad, hearing him talke of *Juliet*,
To thinke it was for? O give me thy hand,
One, writ with me in ſowre misfortunes booke,
Ile bury thee in a triumphant grave.

A Grave, O no, a Lanthorne; flanſhtried Youth:
For here lies *Juliet*, and her beauty makes
This Vault a feaſtug prefence full of light.
Death lie thou there, by a dead man inter'd.
How oft when men are at the point of death,
Have they beene merry? Which their Keepers call
A lightning before death? Ob how may I
Call this a lightning? O my Love, my Wife,
Death that hath fuck the honey of thy breath,
Hath had no power yet upon thy Beauty:
Thou are not conquer'd: Beauties enſigne yet
Is Crymſon in thy lips, and in thy cheekes,
And Deaths pale flag is not advanced there.
Tybalt, ly於 thou there in thy bloudy fleet?
O what more favour can I do to thee,
Then with that hand that cut thy youth in twaine,
To ſunder his that was thy enemy?
Forgive me Cozen. Ah deare *Juliet*:

Why art thou yet ſo faire? I will believe,
Shall I believe, that unſubſtantial death is amorous?
And that the leane abhorred Monſter keepeſ
Thce here in darke to be his Paramount?
For fear of that, I ſtill will ſtay with thee,
And never from this Palace of dym night
Depart againe: come lie thou in my armes,
Heere's to thy health, where ere thou tumbleſt in.
O true Apothecary!

Thy drugs are quicke. Thus with a kiffe I die,
Depart againe; here, here will I remaine,
With Wormes that are thy Chambermaids: O here
Will I fet up my everlaſting reſt:
And ſhake the yoke of inaſticious ſtarres
From this worlds wearied fleth: Eyes looke your laſt:
Armes take your laſt embrace: And lips, O you
The doores of breath, ſeale with a righteous kiffe
A dateſſe bargaine to ingroſſing death:
Come better conduct, come unſavoury guide,
Thou desperate Pilot, now at once run on
The daſhing Rocks, thy Sea-fieke weary Barke:
Heere's to my Love. O true Apothecary:

Thy

I married them; and their folde marriage day
Was *Taybalts* Doomesday: whole untimely death
Banif'd the new-made Bridegroome from this City:
For whom (and not for *Taybalt*) *Juliet* pinde.
You, to remove that fienge of Grieſe from her,
Betro'd, and would have married her perforce
To Countie *Paris*. Then comes she to me,
And (with wilde lookes) bid me devife ſome meanes
To rid her from this ſecond Marriage,
Or in my Cell there would ſhe kill her ſelfe.
Then gave I her (fo Tuter'd by my Art)

A sleeping Potion, which ſo tooke effect
As I intended, for it wrought on her
The forme of death. Meane time, I writ to *Romeo*,
That he ſhould hither come, as this dyre night,
To helpet to take her from her borrowed grave,
Being the time the Potions force ſhould ceate.
But he which bore my Letter, Frier *John*,
Was ſtay'd by accident; and yeſternight
Return'd my Letter backe. Then all alone,
At the prefixed houre of her waking,
Came I to take her from her Kindreds vault,
Meaning to keepe her cloſely at my Cell,
Till I conveniently could ſend to *Romeo*.

But when I came (some Minute ere the time
Of her a waking) heere untimely lay
The Noble *Paris*, and true *Romeo* dead.
Shee wakes, and I Intreated her come fourth,
And beare this worke of Heaven, with patience:
But then, a noife did ſcarre me from the Tombe,
And ſhe (too desperate) would not go with me,
But (as it ſeemes) did violence on her ſelfe.
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 houre before the time,
Vnto the rigour of ſevereſt Law.

Prin. We ſtill have knowne thee for a Holy man.
Where's *Romeo's* man? What can he ſay to this?

Boy. I brought my Maſter newes of *Juliet's* death,

And then in poſſe he came from *Mantra*.

To this fame place, to this fame Monument.
This Letter hearely 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 looke on it.
Where is the Counties Page that rais'd the Watch?
Sirra, what made your Maſter in this place?

Pag. He came with flowres to strew his Ladies grave,
And bid me ſtand aloofe, and ſo I did:
Anon comes one with light to ope the Tombe,
And by and by my Maſter drew on him,
And then I ran away to call the Watch.

Prin. This Letter doth make good the Friers words,
Their courſe of Love, the tydings of her death:
And heere he writes, that he did buy a payſon
Of a poore Pothecary, and therewithall
Came to this Vault to dye, and lye with *Juliet*,
Where be theſe Enemies? *Capulet Mountague*,
See what a ſcourge is laide upon your hate,
That Heaven finds means to kill your joyes with Love,
And I, for winking at your diſcords too,
Have left a brace of Kinfmen: All are puniſh'd.

Cap. O Brother *Mountague*, give me thy hand,
This is my Daughters joynture, for no more
Can I demand.

Mons. But I can give thee more:
For I will raſe her Statue in pure Gold,
That whiles *Verona* by that name is knowne,
There ſhall no figure at that Rate be ſet,
As that of True and Faithfull *Juliet*.

Cap. As rich as ſhall *Romeo* by his Lady lie,
Poore ſacrifices of our enmity.

Prin. A Glooming peace this morning with it brings,
The Sunne for forrow will not ſhow his head;
Go hence, to have more talke of theſe ſad things,
Some ſhall be pardon'd, and ſome puniſhed.

For never was a Story of more Woe
Then this of *Juliet*, and her *Romeo*.

Exeunt omnes.

FINIS.

T

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THE LIFE OF TYMON
OF ATHENS.

Actus Primus. Scena Prima.

Enter Poet, Painter, Jeweller, Merchant, and Mercer,
as feverall doores.

Poet.

Ood day Sir.

Pain. I am glad y'are well.

Poet. I have not feene you long, how goes
the World?

Pau. It weares fir, as it growes.

Poet. I that's well knowne:

But what particular Rarity? What ſtrange,

Which manifold record not matches: see

Magice of Bounty, all theſe ſpirits thy power

Hath conjur'd to attend.

I know the Merchant.

Pai. I know them both: th'others a Ieweller.

Mr. Otis a worthy Lord.

Iew. Nay that's moſt fixt.

Mr. A moſt incomparable man, breath'd as it were,
To an untyrable and continuate goodneſſe :

He paffes.

Iew. I have a Iewell heere.

Mr. O pray let's ſee't. For the Lord Timon, fir?

Iew. If he will touch the eſtimate, but for that—

Poe. When we for recompence have prais'd the vild,
It taines the glory in that happy Verſe,

Which aptly ſings the good.

Mr. Tisa a good ſo me.

Iew. And rich: heere is a Water looke ye.

Pai. You are rapt fir, in fome worke, fome Dedication
to the great Lord.

Poe. A thing flipt idly from me.

Our Poſſie is as a Gowne, which uſes

From whence tis nouriſht: the fire i'th'Flint

Shewes not, till it be ſtrooke: our gentle flame

Provokes it ſelfe, and like the currant flyes

Each bound it chales. What have you there?

Pai. A Picture fir: when comes your Booke forth?

Poe. Vpon the heeles of my preſentment fir.

Let's ſee your peeece.

Pai. Tis a good Peece.

Poe. So tis, this comes off well, and excellent.

Pain. Indifferent.

Poe. Admirable: How this grace

Speakes his owne ſtanding: what a mentall power

This eye ſhootes forth? How bigge imagination

Moves in this Lip; to th'dumbneſſe of the geſture,

One might interpret:

Pai. It is a pretty mocking of the life:

Heere is a touch: Is't good?

Poe. I will fay of it,

It Tutors Nature, Artificiall ſtrife

Lives in theſe touches, livelier then life.

Enter certaine Senators.

Pai. How this Lord is followed.

Poe. The Senators of Athens, happy men.

Pain. Looke more.

Poe. You ſee this confluëce, this great flood of viſitorſ,
I have in this rough worke ſhap'd out a man

Whom this beneath world doth embrace and hugge

With ampleft entertainment: My free drift

Halts not particularly, but moves it ſelfe

In a wide Sea of wax, no levell'd malice

Infects one comma in the coure I hold,

But flies an Eagle flight, bold, and forth on,

Leaving no Tract behind.

Pai. How ſhall I underſtand you?

Poe. I will unboult to you.

You ſee how all Conditions, how all Mindes,

As well of glib and flipp'ry Creatures, as

Of Grave and auſtere quality, tender downe

Their ſervices to Lord Timon: his large Fortune,

Vpon his good and gracious Nature hanging,

Subdues and properties to his love and tendance

All forts of hearts; yea, from the glaſſe-fac'd Flatterer

To Apemantus, that few things loves better

Then to abhorre himſelfe, even hee drops downe

The knee before him, and returns in peace

Moſt rich in Timons nod.

Pai. I saw them ſpeak together.

Poe. Sir, I have upon a high and pleafant hill
Feign'd Fortune to be thron'd.

The Bafe o'th'Mount

Is rank'd with all deferts, all kindes of Natures

That labour on the boſome of this Sphere,

To propagate their ſtates; among'it them all,

Whofe eyes are on this Soveraigne Lady fixt,

One do I perſonate of Lord Timons frame,

Whom Fortune with her Ivory hand waſts to her,

Whofe preſent grace, to preſent ſlaves and ſervants

Transflates his Rivals.

Pai. Tis conceiv'd, to ſcope

This THRONE, this Fortune, and this Hill me thinkes

With

108

Timon of Athens.

With one man becken'd from the reft below,
Bowing his head against the steepy Mount
To climb his happineſſe, would be well expreſt
In our Condition.

Poe. Nay Sir, but heare me on:
All thofe which were his Fellowes but of late,
Some better then his valew; on the moment
Follow his ftrides, his Lobbies fill with tendance,
Raine Sacrificiall whisperings in his eare,
Make Sacred even his ſtyrrop, and through him
Drinke the free Ayre.

Pai. I marry, what of theſe?

Poe. When fortune in her ſhift and change of mood
Spurnes downe her late beloved; all his Dependants
Which labour'd after him to the Mountaines top,
Even on their knees and hands, let him fit downe;
Not one accompanying his declining foot.

Pai. This common:

A thouſand morall Paintings I can ſhow,
That ſhall demonſtrate theſe quicke blowes of Fortune,
More pregnantly then words. Yet you do well,
To ſhow Lord Timon, that meane eyes have ſeene
The foot above the head

Trumpets found.

Enter Lord Timon, addressing himselfe curiously to every Suitor.

Tim. Imprifon'd is he, ſay you?

Mef. I my good Lord, five Talents is his debt,
His meaneſt moſt ſhort, his Creditors moſt ſtraite:
Your Honourable Letter he deſires
To thofe have ſhut him up, which failing to him,
Periods his comfort.

Tim. Noble Ventidius well:

I am not of that Feather, to ſhake off
My Friend when he muſt neede me. I do know him
A Gentleman, that well deſerves a helpe,
Which he ſhall have, Ile pay the debt, and free him.

Mef. Your Lofhip ever bindes him.

Tim. Commend me to him, I will ſend his ransome,
And being enfranchized bid him cometo me;
Tis not enough to helpe the Feeble up,
But to ſupport him after. Fare you well.

Mef. All happineſſe to your Honor.

Exit.

Enter an old Athenian.

Oldm. Lord Timon, I care me ſpeake.

Tim. Freely good Father.

Old. Thou haſt a Servant nam'd Lucilius.

Tim. I have for: What of him?

Old. Moſt Noble Timon, call the man before thee.

Tim. Attends he heere, or no? Lucilius.

Luc. Heere at your Lofhipps ſervice.

Old. This Fellow heere, L. Timon, this thy Creaſture,
By night frequents my houſe. I am a man
That from my ſiſt have beene inclin'd to thrift,
And my eſtate deſerves an Heyre more raiſ'd,
Then one which holds a Trencher.

Tim. Well what further?

Old. One onely Daughter have I, no Kin eſſe,
On whom I may conferre what I have got:
The Maid is faire, a'th'youngeſt for a Bride,
And I have bred her at my deereſt coſt
In Qualities of the beſt. This man of thine
Attempts her love: I prythies (Noble Lord)

Ioyne with me to forbid him her refort,
My ſelſe have ſpoke in vaine.

Tim. The man is honest.

Old. Therefore he will be Timon,
His honesty rewards him in it ſelſe,
It muſt not beare my Daughter.

Tim. Does ſhe love him?

Old. She is young and apt:
Our owne precedent pailions do inſtruct us
What levities in youth.

Tim. Love you the Maid?

Luc. I my good Lord, and ſhe accepts of it.
Old. If in her Marriage my conſent be miſing,
I call the Gods to witneſſe, I will chofe
Mine heyre from forth the Beggers of the world,
And diſpoſeſſe her all.

Tim. How ſhall ſhe be endowed,
If ſhe be mated with an cquall Husband?
Old. Three Talents on the preſent; in future, all.
Tim. This Gentleman of mine

Hath ſerv'd me long:
To build his Fortune, I will ſtraine a little,
For tis a Bond in men. Give him thy Daughter,
What you beſtow, in him Ile counterpoize,
And make him weigh with her.

Old. Moſt Noble Lord,
Pawne me to this your Honour, ſhe is his.

Tim. My hand to thee,
Mine Honour on my promife.
Luc. Humbly I thanke your Lofhip, never may

That flare or Fortune fall into my keeping,
Which is not owed to you.

Poe. Vouchſafe my Labour.

And long live your Lofhip.
Tim. I thanke you, you ſhall beare from meaneon:

Go not away. What have you there, my Friend?

Pai. A peecce of Painting, which I do beſeech
Your Lofhip to accept.

Tim. Painting is welcome.
The Painting is almoſt the Natural man:
For ſince Diſhonour Trailickes with mans Nature,
He is but outſide: The Penſil'd Figures are
Even ſuch as they give out. I like your worke,
And you ſhall finde I like it. Waite attendance
Till you heare further from me.

Pai. The Gods preferve ye.

Tim. Well fare you my Gentleman: give me your hand.
We muſt needs diine together: fir your Jewell
Hath ſuffered under prafie.

Jew. What my Lord, diſpraife?

Tim. A meere faciety of Commendations,
If I ſhould pay you for't as tis extold,
It would unclew me quite.

Jew. My Lord, it is rated.

As thofe which fell would give: but you well know,
Things of like valew differing in the Owners,
Are prized by their Maſters. Beleve't deere Lord,
You mend the lewell by the wearing it.

Tim. Well mock'd.

Enter Apermantus.

Mer. No my good Lord, he ſpeakes the common toong
Which all men ſpeake with him.

Tim. Looke who comes heere, will you be chid?

Jew. Wee'll beare with your Lofhip.

Mer. Hee'll ſpare none.

Tim. Good morrow to thee,
Gentle Apermantus.

Aper

Timon of Athens.

109

Ape. Till I be gentle, itay thou for thy good morrow.
When thou art Timons dogge, and thefe Knaves honest.

Tim. Why doft thou call them Knaves, thou knowft
them not?

Ape. Are they not Athenians?

Tim. Yes.

Ape. Then I repent not.

Iw. You know me, Apemantus?

Ape. Thou knowft I doe, I call'd thee by thy name:

Tim. Thou art proud Apemantus?

Ape. Of nothing so much, as that I am not like Timon.

Tim. Whether art going?

Ape. To knocke out an honest Athenians brains.

Tim. That's a deed thou'rt dye for.

Ape. Right, if doing nothing be death by th' Law.

Tim. How lik'st 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 worke.

Pain. Y'are a Dogge.

Ape. Thy Mothers of my generation : what's she, if I
be a Dogge?

Tim. Wilt dine with me Apemantus?

Ape. No : I eat not Lords.

Tim. And thou shouldst, thoud'ft anger Ladies.

Ape. O they eat Lords;

Sothey come by great bellies.

Tim. That's a laefious apprehension.

Ape. So, thou apprehendst it.

Take it for thy labour.

Tim. How doft thou like this lewell, Apemantus?

Ape. Not so well as plain-dealing, which will not caff
a manna Doit.

Tim. What doft thou thinke this worth?

Ape. Not worth my thinking.

How now Poet?

Poet. How now Philofopher ?

Ape. Thou lyeſt.

Poet. Art not one?

Ape. Yes.

Poet. Then I lye not.

Ape. Art not a Poet ?

Poet. Yes.

Ape. Then thou lyeſt :

Looke in thy laft worke, where thou haſt feign'd him a
worthy 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' flat-
teres. Heavens, that I were a Lord.

Tim. What wouldſt doe then Apemantus?

Ape. Ene as Apemantus does now, hate a Lord with
my heart.

Tim. What thy ſelfe?

Ape. I.

Tim. Wherefore?

Ape. That I had no angry wit to be a Lord.

Are not thou a Merchant ?

Mer. I Apemantus.

Ape. Trafficke confound thee, if the gods will not.

Mer. If Trafficke doe it, the gods doe it.

Ape. Trafficke thy god, and thy god confound thee,
Trumpet founds. Enter a Melfenger.

Tim. What Trumpets that?

Mef. Tis Alcibiades, and some twenty horfe.

All of Companionſhip.

Tim. Pray entertain them, give them guide to us.
You muſt needs dine with me : goe not you hence
Till I have thankt you ; and when dinners done
Shew me this piece, I am joyfull of your fightes.
Enter Alcibiades with the rest.

Moft welcome Sir.

Ape. So, fo ; their Aches contract, and ſterue your
fupple joynts : that there ſhould be ſmall love amongſt
theſe ſweet Knaves, and all this Curſeſe. The ſtraine of
mans bred out into Baboon and Monkey.

Alci. Sir, you have fav'd my longing, and I feed
Moft hungerly on your fight.

Tim. Right welcome Sir.

Ere we depart, we'll ſhare a bounteous time

In different pleatures.

Pray you let us in.

Enter two Lords.

Exeunt.

I Lord. What time a day is't Apemantus?

Ape. Time to be honest.

I That time ſerves full.

Ape. The moſt accuſed thou that ſtill omit it.

2 Thou art going to Lord Timons Feaſt.

Ape. I, to fee meate fill Knaves, and Wine heat fooles,

2 Farthee well, farthee well.

Ape. Thou art a Foole to bid me farewell twice.

2 Why Apemantus?

Ape. Shouldſt have kept one to thy ſelfe, for I meane
to give thee none.

I Hang thy ſelfe.

Ape. No I will doe nothing at thy bidding :

Make thy requeſts to thy Friend.

2 Away uneppacable Dogge,

Or Ile ſpurne thee hence.

Ape. I will flye like a dogge, the heeles a'ch Affe.

I He's oppofite to humanity.

Come shall we in,

And taſte Lord Timons bounty : he out goes

The very heart of kindneſſe.

2 He powres it out : Plutus the god of gold

Is but his Steward ; no meede but he repayes

Seven-fold above it ſelfe : No guift to him,

But breeds the giver a returne : exceeding

All uſe of quittance.

I The Nobleſt minde he carries.

That ever govern'd man.

2 Long may he live in Fortunes. Shall we in ?

Ile keepe you Company.

Exeunt.

Hoboyes Playing lowd Muficks.

A great Banquet ſeru'd in ; and then, Enter Lord Timon, the
States, the Athenian Lords, Ventigius which Timon re-
deem'd from prison. Then comes dropping after all Ap-
emantus discontentedly like him ſelfe.

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 has left me rich :

Then, as in gratefull Vertue I am bound

To your free heart, I doe returne those Talents

Doubled with thanks and ſervice, from whose helpe

I deriu'd liberty.

Tim. O by no means,

Honeſt Ventigius : you miſtake my love,

k k

I gave

110

Timon of Athens.

I gave it freely ever, and there's none

Can truely 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.

Vint. A Noble spirit.

Tim. Nay my Lords, Ceremony was but devis'd at first

To fet a gloſſe on faint deeds, hollow welcomes,

Recanting goodneſſe, forry ere tis ſhowne :

But where there is true friendship, there needs none.

Pray fit, more welcome are ye to my Fortunes,

Then my Fortunes to me.

I Lord. My Lord, we always have conſeft it.

Ape. Ho ho, conſeſt it ? hang'd it ? have you not ?

Tim. O Apermantus, you are welcome.

Ape. No: you shall not make me welcome.

I come to have thee thrust me out of doors.

Tim. Fye, th'art a charle, ye have got a humour there

Does not become a man, tis much too blame :

They fay my Lords, Iraſuror breuis eſſ,

But yond man is very angry.

Goe, let him have a Table by himselfe :

For he does neither affect company,

Nor is he fit for't indeed.

Ape. Let me ſtay at thine apperill Timon,

I come to obſerve, I give thee warning on't.

Tim. I take no heede of thee; I h'art an Athenian,
therefore welcome: I my ſelfe would have no power,
prethee let my meate make thee filent.

Aper. I corne thy meate, twould choake me: for I
thould nere flatter thee. Oh you Gods ! What a number
of men eates Timon, and he fees me not ? It grieves me
to fee ſo many dip there meate in one mans blood, and
all the madneſſe is, he cheers them up too.

I wonder men dare truſt themſelves with men.

Me thinkes they should invite them without knives,

Good for their meate, and ſafer for their lives.

Theres 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 readieſt man to kill him. Tas
beene proved, if I were a huge man I ſhould ſeare to
drinke at meales, leaſt they ſhould ptye my wind-pipes
dangerous noates, great men ſhould drinke with harnecſe
on their throats.

Tim. My Lord in heart: and let the health goe round.

2 Lord. Let it flow this way my good Lord.

Ape. Flow this way ? A brave fellow. He keepes his
tides well, thofe healths will make thee and thy flate
looke ill, Timon.

Heeres: that which is too weake to be a finner,

Honeſt water, which nere left man i'th'aird :

This and my food are equal, there's no ods,

Feaſts are to proud to give thanks to the gods.

Apermantus Grace.

Immortal gods, I crave no ſelfe,

I pray for no man but my ſelfe,

Grant I may never prove ſo fond,

To trust man on his Oath or Bond.

Or a Harlot for her weeping.

Or a Dogge that feemes aſleeping,

Or a keeper with my ſrecdome,

Or my friends if I ſhould needem.

Amen. So fall too't :

Richmen ſin, and I eat root.

Much good dich thy good heart, Apermantus.

Tim. Captaine,

Alcibiades, your hearts in the field now.

Aci. My heart is ever at your ſervice, my Lord.

Tim. You had rather be at a breakeſt 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.

Aper. Would all thofe flatterers were thine Enemies
then, that then thou mightſt kill em : and bid me to em.

1 Lord. Might we but have that happliſe my Lord,
that you would once uſe our hearts, whereby we might
exprefſe ſome part of our zeales, we ſhould thinke our
felves for ever perfect.

Tim. Oh no doubt my good Friends, but the gods
themselves have provided that I shall have much helpe
from you: how had you beene my Friends ſelfe. Why
have you that charitable title from thousands? Did not
you chiefly belong to my heart? I have told more of
you to my ſelfe, then you can with modety ſpeak in
your owne behalſe. And thus farre I confirme you. Oh
you gods (thine) what need we have any Friends; if
we should nere have nece de of em ? They were the moſt
needeſſe Creatures living; ſhould we nere have uſe for
em? And would moſt reſemble ſweet Instruments
hung up in Cafes, that keepe their founds to themselves.
Why I have often wifht my ſelfe poorer, that I might
come neerer to you: we are borne to doe benefits. And
what better or properer can we call our owne, then the
riches of our Friends ? Oh what a pretious comfort tis
to have ſo many like Brothers commanding one another's
Fortunes. Oh joyes, e'ne made away e't can be borne,
mine eyes cannot hold out water: we thinkes to forget
their faults. I drinke to you,

Aper. Thou weep't to made them drinke Timon.

2 Lord. Ioy had the like conception in our eyes,
And at that inſtant, like a babe ſprung up.

Aper. Ho, ho: I laugh to thinke that babe a baſt.

3 Lord. I promife you my Lord you mov'd me much.

Aper. Much.

Sound Tucket. Enter the Maskers of Amazons with
Lutes in their hands, dancing and playing.

Tim. What meanes that Trumpe ? How now?

Enter Servants.

Ser. Pleafe you my Lord, there are certaine Ladies
Moſt deſirovs 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 pleasures.

Tim. I pray let them be admitted.

Enter Cupid with the Maske of Ladies.

Cup. Haile to thee worthy Timon and to all that of
his Baunties taſte: the ſive beſt Sences acknowledge thee
their Patron, and come freely to gratulate thy plenteous
boſome.

There taſte, touch all, pleaf'd from thy Table rife:

They onely now come but to Feaſt thine eyes.

Timo. Their welcome all, let em have kind admittance. Muficke make their welcome.

Luc. You fee my Lord, how ample ye are belov'd.

Aper, Hoyday,

What a ſweep of vanity comes this way.

They daunce ? They are madwomen.

Like

112

Timon of Athens.

Tim. Nay, and you begin to raile on Society once, I
am f worse not to give regard to you. Farewell, and come
with better Musick. Exit.

Aper. So : thou wilt not heare me now, thou shalt not
then. He locke thy heaven from thee :

Oh that mens eares should be

To Counfell deafe, but not to Flattery.

Exit.

Enter a Senator.

Sen. And late five thouand : to Varro and to Ifidore

He owes nine thouand, 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, ſteale but a beggers Dogge,
And give it Timon, why the Dogge coynes Gold.

If I would ſell my horſe, and buy twenty more
Better then he ; why give my horſe to Timon.

Aske nothing, give it him, it Foles me ſtraight

And able Horſes: No Porter at his gate,
But rather one that ſmiles, and ſtill invites

All that pafſe by. It cannot hold, no reaſon

Can found his ſtate in ſafety. Caphis hoa,

Caphis I ſay.

iEnter Caphis.

Caph. Heere fir, what is your pleaſure.

Sen. Get on your cloake, and haſt you to Lord Timon
Importune him for my Monecyes, be not ceaſt

With flight denial; nor then ſilenc'd, then

Commend me to your Maſter, and the Cap
Playes in the right hand, thus : but tell him firrah

My uſe cry to me; I muſt ſerve my turne

Out of mine owne, his dayes and times are paſt,

And my reliances on his fraſted dates

Have ſmit my credit. I love, and honour him,

Immediate are my needs, and my releiſe

Muſt not be toſt and turn'd to me in words,

But find ſupply immediate. Get you gone,

Put on a molſt importunate aſpect,

A viſage of demand : for I doe ſcare

When every Feather ſtickes in his owne wing,

Lord Timon will be left a naked gull,

Which flares now a Phoenix, get you gone.

Ca. I goe fir.

Sen. I goe fir ?

Take the Bonds along with you,

And have the dates in. Come.

Ca. I will Sir.

Sen. Goe.

Exenut.

Enter Steward, with many billes in his hand.

Stew. No care, no ſtop, to ſenſeleſe of expence,
That he will neither know how to maintaine it,

Nor ceaſe his flow of Riot. Takes no accompt

How things goe from him, nor ſeſume 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 here, till ſeelę :

I muſt be round with him, now he comes from hunting.

Fie, ſie, ſie, ſie.

Enter Caphis, Ifidore, and Varro.

Cap. Good even Varro : what, you come for money ?

Var. Is't not your buſineſſe too ?

Cap. It is, and yours too, Ifidore ?

Ifid. It isſo.

Cap. Would we were all diſcharg'd.

Var. I feare it.

Cap. Heere comes the Lord.

Enter Timon, and his Traine.

Tim. So ſoone as dinners done, we'll forth againe
My Alcibiades. With me, what is your will?

Cap. My Lord, heere is a note of certaine dues.

Tim. Dues ? whence are you ?

Cap. Of Athens heere: my Lord.

Tim. Goe to my Steward.

Cap. Pleafe it your Lordship, he hath put me off
To the ſucceſſion of new dayes this moneth:

My Maſter is awak'd by great Occafion,

To call upon his owne, and humbly prays you,

That with your other Noble parts, you'll ſuite,

In giving him his right.

Tim. Minſe honesſt Friend,

I prethee but repaire to me next morning.

Cap. Nay good my Lord.

Tim. Containe thy ſelſe, good friend.

Var. One Varroes ſervant, my good Lord.

Ifid. From Ifidore, he humbly prays your ſpeedy pay-
ment,

Cap. If you did know my Lord, my Naſters wants.

Var. Twas due on forſeityure my Lord, ſixe weekes,
and paſt.

Ifid. Your Steward puts me off my Lord, and I

Am ſent expresſely to your Lordship.

Tim. Give me breath :

I doe beſeech you good my Lords keepe on,
Ile waite upon you inſantly. Come hither : pray you

How goes the world, that I am thus encountered

With clamorous demands of debt, broken Bonds,

And the detention long ſince due debts

Agaiſt my Honor ?

Stew. Pleafe you Gentlemen,

The time is unagreeable to this buſineſſe :

Your importunacy ceaſe, till after dinner,

That I may make his Lordship undereſtand

Wherefore you are not paid.

Tim. Doe ſo my Friends, ſee them well entertain'd.

Stew. Pray draw neere.

Exii.

Enter Apemantus and Foole.

Capb. Stay, ſay, here comes the Foole with Apemantus,
lets ha ſome Iport with em.

Var. Hang him, he'll abufe us.

Ifid. A plague upon him dogge.

Var. How doſt Foole?

Ape. Doſt Dialogue with thy ſhadow ?

Var. I ſpeak not to thee.

Ape. No tis to thy ſelſe. Come away.

Ifid. Theres the Foole hangs on your backe already.

Ape. No thou ſtand it ſingle, thou art not on him yet

Cap. Wheres the foole now ?

Ape. He laſt ask'd the queſtion. Poore Rogues and
Vſurers men, Bands betweene Gold and want.

Ab. What are we Apemantus ?

Ape. Aſſes.

All. Why ?

Ape. That you aske me what you are, and doe not know
your ſelves. Speake to em foole.

Fool. How doe you Gentlemen?

All. Gramercies good Foole :

How does your Miltris ?

Fool.

Timon of Athens.

113

Foele. She's ne fetting on water to feal'd fuch Chic-
kens as you are. Would we could fee you at Corinth.
Ape. Good, Gramercy.

Enter Page.

Foele. Looke you, heere comes my Maſters Page.
Page. Why how now Captaine? what doe you in this
wife company.
How doſt thou Apemantus?

Ape. Would I had a Rod in my mouth, that I might
anwer thee profitably.

Bo. Prethee Apemantus reade me the ſupereſcripti-
on of theſe Letters, I know not which is which.

Ape. Canſt not read ?

Page. No.

Ape. There will little Learning dye then that day thou
art hang'd. This is to Lord Timon, this to Alcibiades, Go
thou was't borne a Baſtard, and thou'dyea Bawd.

Page. Thou was't whelpt a Dogge, and thou ſhalt
ſimil a Dogges death.

Anſwer not, I am gone,

Exit.

Ape. Ene ſo thou out-runſt grace,

Foele. I will goe with you to Lord Timons.

Foele. Will you leave me there?

Ape. If Timon stay at home.
You three ſerve three Vſurers?

AII. I would they ſerv'd us.

Ape. So would I:

As good a tricke as ever Hangman ſerv'd theſe.

Foele. Are you three Vſuers men?

AII. I foole

Foele. I thinke no Vſurer, but has a foole to his Ser-
vant. My Miſtris is one, and I am her foole: when men
come to borrow of your Maſters, they approach ſadly,
and goe away merry : but they enter my Maſters houſe
merily, and goe away ſadly. The reaſon of this?

Var. I could render one.

Ape. Doe it then, that we may account thee a Whore-
maſter, and a Knave, which notwithſtanding thou ſhalt
bene ſleſſe eſt ceemed,

Var. What is a Whoremaſter foole?

Foele. A foole in good cloathes, and ſometh ing like
thee. Tis a ſpirit, ſometime tappeares like a Lord, ſom-
time like a Lawyer, ſometime like a Philosopher, with
two ſtones more then's artificial one. He is very often
like a Knight ; and generally, in all ſhapes that man goes
up and downe in, from ſoureſore to thirteen, this ſpiri-
t walkes in.

Var. Thou art not altogether a foole.

Foele. Nor thou altogether a Wife man,

As much foolery as I have, ſo much wit thou lack't.

Ape. That anſwer might have become Apemantus.

AII. Aſide, aſide, here comes Lord Timon.

Enter Timon, and Steward.

Ape. Come with me (foole) come.

Foele. I doe not always follow Lover, elder Brother,
and Woman, ſometime the Philosopher.

Stew. Pray you walke neere,

Ile ſpeake with you anon.

Exeunt.

Tim. You make me mervell wherefore ere this time
Had you not fully laid my ſlate before me,
That I might ſo have rated my expence
As I had leave of means.

Stew. You would not heare me :

At many leyſures I propof'd.

Tim. Go to:

Perchance ſome ſingle vantages you tooke,
When my indiſpoſition put you backe,
And that unaptnefle made you minifter
Thus to excufe your ſelfe.

Stew. O my good Lord,

At many times I brought in my accompts,
Laid them before you, you would throw them off,
And fay you found them in mine honeſly,
When for ſome trifling prefent you have bid me
Returne ſo much, I have ſhooke my head, and wept :
Yea gainſt th' Authority of manners, pray'd you
To hold your hand more cloſe : I did indure
Not ſildome, nor no flight checkes, when I have
Promp ted you in the ebbe of your eſtate,
And your great flow of debts; my dear loy'd Lord,
Though you here now (too late) yet nowes a time,
The greatest of you having, lacke a halſe,
To pay your prefent debts.

Tim. Let all my Land be ſold.

Stew. Tis all engag'd, ſome forſeyted and gone,
And what remaines will hardly ſtop the mouth
Of prefent dues ; the future comes apace :
What ſhall defend the interim, and at length
How goes our reek'ning?

Tim. To Lacedemon did my Land extend.

Stew. O my good Lord, the world is but a world,
Were it all yours, to give it in a breath,
How quickly were it gone.

Tim. You tell me true.

Stew. If you ſuſpect my Husbandry or Falfhood.
Call me before the exacteſt Auditors,
And fet me on the proofe. So the gods bleſſe me,
When all our Offices have beene oppreſſt
With riotous Feeders, when our Vaults have wept
With drunken ſpilth of Wine; when every roome
Hath blaz'd with Lights, and braid with Minſtrelſie,
I have rety'r'd me to a wafteſull cocke,
And fet mine eyes at flow.

Tim. Prethee no more.

Stew. Heavens have I faid, the bounty of this Lord !
How many prodigallbits have Slaves and Pezans
This night englutted : who is not Timons,
What heart, head, ſword, force, meanes, but is L. Timons:
Great Timon, Noble, Worthy, Royall Timons :
Ah, when the meanes are gone, that buy this praife is made :
Feaſt won, ſaſt loft ; one cloud of Winter ſhowres,
Theſe flyes are coucht.

Tim. Come ſermon me no further:
No villainous bounty yet hath palt my heart;
Vnwifely, not ignobly have I given.
Why doſt thou weepe, canſt thou the confience lacke,
To thinke I ſhall lacke friends : I secure thy heart,
If I would broach the veſels of my love,
And try the argument of hearts, by borrowing,
Men, and mens fortunes could I frankly uſe
As I can bid thee ſpeake.

Stew. Aſſurance bleſſe your thoughts.

Tim. And in ſome fort theſe wants of mine are crown'd
That I account them bleſſings. For by theſe

Shall I try friends. You ſhall perceive
How you miſtake my fortunes :

I am wealthy in my friends.

Within there, Flavius, Servilius ?

k k 3

Enter

114

Timon of Athens.

Enter three Servants.

Ser. My Lord, my Lord.

Tim. I will dispatch you feversely.

You to Lord Lucius, to Lord Lucullus you, I hunted
with his Honor to day; you to Sempronius; commend me
to their loves, and I am proud fay, that my occasions
have found time to ufe 'em toward a supply of mony: let
the requeft be fifty Talents.

Flam. As you have faid, my Lord.

Stew. Lord Lucius and Lucullus ? Humh.

Tim. Goe you fir to the Senators ;

Of whom, even to the States beſt health ? I have
Deferv'd this hearing ; bid 'em ſend o'th'inſtant
A thouſaud Talents to me.

Stew. I have beene bold

(For that I knew it the moſt generall way)

To them, to uſe your Signet, and your Name,
But they doe ſhake their heads, and I am heere
No richer in returne.

Tim. Is't true ? Can't be ?

Stew. They anſwer in a joynſt and corporate voyce,

Thit now they are at fall, want Treſaure, cannot
Doe what they would, are forry : you are Honourable,
But yet they could have wifht, they know not,
Something hath beene amſile ; a Noble Nature

May catch a wrench ; wouſd all were well ; tis pitty,
And ſo intending other ſerious matters,
After diſaſteſeull looks ; and theſe hard Fraſtions
With certaine halſe-caps, and cold moving nods,
They froze me into Silence.

Tim. You gods reward them :

Prythee man looke cheerely. Theſe old Fellowes

Have their ingratitudin in them Hereditary :

Their blood is cak'd, tis cold, it ſeldome flowes,

Tis lacke of kindly warmth, they are not kind ;

And Nature, as it growes againe toward earth,

Is ſaſhion'd for the journey, dull and heavy.

Goe to Ventiſius (prythee be not ſad,

Thou art true, and honesſ ingeniously I ſpeake,

No blame belongs to thee :) Ventiſius lately

Buried his Father, by whole death he's ſtepp'd

Into a great eſtate : when he was poore,

Imprifon'd, and in ſcarity of Friends,

I cleer'd him with five Talents: Greet him from me,

Bid him ſuppofe, ſome good neceſſity

Touches his Friend, which craves to be reme nbed

With theſe five Talents ; that had, give'theſe Fellowes

To whom tis inſtant due. Neur ſpeake, or thinke,

That Timons fortunes 'mong his friends can ſinke.

Stew. I would I could not thinke it :

That thought is Bounties Foe ?

Being free it ſelfe, it thinkes all others ſo.

Exeunt.

Flaminius waiting to ſpeake with a Lord from his Maſter,
enter a ſervant to him.

Ser. I have told my Lord of you, he is comming downe
to yon.

Flam: I thanke 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, honest Flaminius, you are ve-
ry reſpectively welcome fir. Fill me ſome Wine. And
how does that honourable, Compleate, Free-hearted

Gentleman of Athens, thy very bountifull 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 Cloake, pretty Flaminius?

Flam. Faith, nothing but an empty box. Sir, which in
my Lords behalſe; I come to intreat your honor to ſup-
ply : who having great and inſant occasion to uſe ſiſty
Talents, hath ſent to your Lordship to furniſh him : no-
thing doubting your preſent aſſiſtance therein.

Luc. La, la, la, la : Nothing doubting ſayes he ? Alas
good Lord, a Noble Gentleman tis, if he would not keepe
lo good a houſe. Many a time and often I ha din'd with
him, and told him on't, and come againe to ſupper to him
of purpofe, to have him ſpend leſſe, and yet he would em-
brace no counſell, take no warning by my comming, eve-
ry man has his fault, and honeſty is his. I ha told him on't,
hut I could nere get him from't.

Enter Servant, with Wine.

Ser. Pleafe your Lordship, here is the Wine.

Luc. Flaminius, I have noted thee always wife.
Heres to thee.

Flam. Your Lordſhip ſpeakes your pleaſure,

Luci. I have obſerved thee always 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 Lords a boun-
tifull Gentleman, but thou art wife, and thou knowſt
well enough (although thou com'ſt to me) that this is no
time to lend money, eſpecially upon bare friendſhip
without ſecurity. Heres three Solidares for thee, good
Boy, winke at me, and ſay thou faw'ſt me not. Farethee
well.

Flam. Is't poſſible the world should be much diſſer,
And we alive that lived ? Fly damned baſeneſſe
To him that worſhips thee.

Luc. Ha ? Now I fee thou art a Foole, and fit for thy
Maſter.

Exit Lucullus.

Fla. May theſe add to the number that may fealde thee:
Let multen Coyne be thy damnation,

Thou diſeafe of a friend, and not himſelfe :

Has friendſhip ſuch a faint and milky heart,

It turnes in leſſer then two nights ? O you gods !

I feele my Maſter's paffion. This Slave unto his honor,

Has my Lords meate in him :

Why should it thrive, and turne to Nutriment,

When he is turn'd to poyſon ?

O may Diſeales onely worke upon't :

And when he's ſicke to death, let not that part of Nature
Which my Lord paid for, be of any powre.

To expell ſickneſſe, but prolong his hower.

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 leſſe, though we are but Fran-
gers to him. But I can tell you one thing my Lord, and
which I heare from common rumours, now Lord Timons
happy howres are done and paff, and his eſtate ſhrinkes
from him.

Luc. Eye no, does not believe it; be cannot want for
money.

2 But believe you this my Lord, that not long agoe,
one of his men was with the Lord Lucullus, to borrow for
many Talents, nay urg'd extremely for't, and ſhewed
what

Timon of Athens.

115

what neceffity belong'd too't, and yet was deny'd.

Luc. How?

2 I tell you, deny'de 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 shew'd in. For my owne
part, I muft needs confeffe, I have received fome small
kindneſſes from him, as Money, Plate, jewels, and ſuch
like Trifles; nothing comparing to his: yet had he mi-
ſtooke him, and ſent to me, I should ne're have denied his
occasion to many Talents.

Enter Servilius.

Servil. See, by good hap yonders my Lord, I have
ſwet to fee his honor. My honor'd Lord.

Luci. Servilius ? You are kindly met fir. Farthewell,
commend me to thy honourable vertuous Lord, my ve-
ry exquifite Friend.

Servil. May it pleafe your Honor,my Lord hath ſent

Luci. Ha? what has he ſent ? I am ſo much endeared
to that Lord; heſ ever ſending: how ſhall I chanke him
think'ſt thou? And what has he ſent now ?

Serv. Has onely ſent his preſent occaſion now my
Lord: requeſting your Lordſhip to ſupply his inflant uſe
with ſo many Talents.

Luci. I know his Lordſhip is but merry with me,
He cannot want fifty five hundred Talents,

Servil. But in the meane time he wants leſſe my Lord.
If his occaſion were not vertuous,
I should not urge it halſe ſo faithfully.

Luc. Doth thou ſpeak ſeriously ſervilius.

Serv. Upon my ſoule tis true Sir.

Luc. What a wick'd Beaſt was I to disſunſih my
ſelſe againſt ſuch a good time, when I might ha' ſhewne
my ſelſe honoraſe ? how unluckily it hapned, that I
should purchase the day before for a little part, and undoe
a great deale of honou'r ? ſervilius, now before the gods I
am nor able to doe (the more beaſt I ſay) I was ſending
toute Lord Timon my ſelſe, theſe gentlemen can wittneſſe;
but I would not for the wealth of Athens I had don't now
Commend me bountiſually to his good Lordſhip, and I
hope his Honor will conceſſe the faireſt of me, because
I have no power to be kind. And tell him this from me,
I count it one of my greatest afflictions ſay, that I cannot
pleaſure ſuch an honoraſt Gentleman. Good ſervilius,
will you beſtrend me ſo farre, as to ſule mine owne words
to him?

Serv. Yes fir, I ſhall.

Exit Servilius.

Luci. Ile ſouke you out a good turne ſervilius.

True as you ſaid, Timon is ſhrunkne indeed,

And he that's once deny'd, will hardly ſpeed.

Exit.

1 Doe you obſerve this Hoftilius?

2 I, to well.

I Why this is the worlds ſoule,

And jaſt of the fame peee

Is every Flatterer's ſport: who can call him his friend
That dips in the fame diſh ? For in my knowing

Timon has bin this Lords Father,

And kept his credit with his purſe :

Supported his eſtate, nay Timons money

Has paid his men their wages. He ne're drinkeſſes,

But Timons Silver treads upon his Lip,

And yet, oh ſee the monſtrouſe ſtate of man,

When he looks out in an ungrateſſul ſhape:
He does deny him (in reſpect of his)

What charitable men affoord to Beggers.

3 Religion grones at ir.

1 For mine owne part, I never taſted Timon in my life,
Nor came any of his bounties over me,

To marke me for his Friend. Yet I proteſt.

For his right Noble mind, illuſtrious Vertue,
And honourable Carriage,

Had his neceſſity made uſe of me.

I would have put my wealth into Donation,
And the beſt halſe ſhould haue return'd to him,

So mnch I love his heart: But I perceive,

Men muſt learne now with pitty to diſpence.

For policie ſits above Conſcience.

Exeunt.

Enter a third ſervant with Sempromius, another of Timons Friends.

Semp. Muſt he needs trouble me in't ? Hum.

Bove all others?

He might have tried Lord Lucius, or Lucinuſ,

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 bin touch'd, and all are foundAFE-Mettle,
For they have all denied him.

Semp. How ? have they denyde him?

Has Ventidius and Lucinuſ deny'd him,

And does he ſend to me ? Three ? Humb?

It ſhewes but little love, or judgement in him.

Muſt I be his laſt Refuge ? his friend : (like P[ro]hſitians)

That thriu'd, give him over. Muſt I take th' Cure upon

Has much diſgrac'd me in't, I' me angry at him, (me?

That might have knowne my place. I fee no ſenſe for't,
But his occaſions might have woced me firſt :

For in my conſcience, I was the firſt man

That ere received gift from him.

And does he thinke ſo backwardly of me now,

That he ſrequite it laſt ? No :

So it may prove an Argument of Laughter

To th' reſt, and 'mongt Lords I be thought a Foole :

Ide rather then the worth of three the ſumme,

Had ſent to me firſt, but for my minds ſake :

Ide ſuch a courage to doe him good. But now returne,

And with their taint reply, this anſwer joyneth;

Who bates mine honor, I ſhall not know my Coyne. Exit.

Ser. Excellent: Your Lorſhips a goodly Villaine, the
divell knew not what he did, when he made man Poli-
ticke ; he croſſed himſelfe by't : and I cannot thinke, but
in the end, the villanies of man will fet him cleere. How
faireſt this Lord frives to appeare ſoule ? Takes Vertu-
ous Copies to be wick'd : like that ſo, that under hot ar-
dent zeale, would fet whole Realmes on fire, of ſuch a na-
ture is his politike love.

This was my Lords beſt hope, now all are fled

Save only the gods. Now his friends are dead,

Dooreſ that were ne're acquainted with their Wards

Many a bounteous yeere, muſt be imploy'd

Now to guard ſure their Maſter :

And this is all a liberalt courle allows,

Who cannot keepe his wealth, muſt keepe his honſe. Ex.

Enter Varro's man, meeting others, All Timons Creditors to wait for his comming out. Then enter Lucius and Hortenfius.

Var. man. Well met, good morrow Titus and Hortenſius
Titus

116

Timon of Athens.

Tit. The like to you kind Varro.

Hort. Lucius, what doe we meet together ?

Luc. I, and I thinke one businesse do's command us all.

For mine is money.

Tit. So is theirs, and ours.

Enter Philinus.

Luci. And fir Philinus too.

Phi. Good day at once.

Luci. Welcome good Brother.

What doe you thinke the houre ?

Phil. Labouring for Nine.

Luci. So much ?

Phi. Is not my Lord feene yet ?

Luci. Not yet.

Phi. I wonder on't, he was wont to fhine at feaven.

Luci. I, but the dayes are waxt shorter with him :

You muft confider, that a Prodigall courfe

Is like the Sunnes, but not like his recoverable, I feare :

Tis deepeft Winter in Lord Timons purfe, that is : One
may reach deepe enough, and yet find little.

Phi. I am of your feare, for that.

Tit. Ile ſhew you how't obferve a ſtrange event :

Your Lord ſends now for Money ?

Hort. Moft true, he does.

Tit. And he weares Jewels now of Timons guift,

For which I waite for money.

Hort. It is againſt my heart.

Luci. Marke how ſtrange it ſhowes,

Timon in this, ſhould pay more then he owes :

And e'nough as if your Lord ſhould weare rich Jewels,
Ad ſend for money for 'em.

Hort. I' me weary of this Charge,

The gods can witenſe :

I know my Lord hath ſpent of Timons wealth,

And now ingratitude, makes it worſe then ſtealth,

Varro. Yes mine three thouſand Crownes :

What's yours ?

Luci. Five thouſand mine.

Var. Tis much deepe, and it ſhould ſeeme by th'ium

Your Maſters confidence was above mine,

Elſe ſurely his had equall' d.

Enter Flaminius.

Tit. One of Lord Timons men.

Luc. Flaminius ? Sir, a word : Pray is my Lord ready
to come forth ?

Flam. No, indeed he is not.

Tit. We attend his Lordship ; pray ſignify ſo much.

Flam. I need not tell him that, he knowes you are too
diligent.

Enter Steward in a Cloake, muffled.

Luci. Ha : is not that his Steward muffled ſo ?

He goes away in a Clowd : Call him, call him.

Tit. Doe you heare, fir ?

2 Varro. By your leave, fir.

Stew. What doe ye aske of me, my friend.

Tit. We waite for certaine Money heere, fir.

Stew. I, if Money were as certaine as your waiting,
Twere ſure enough.

Why then preferr'd you not your fummes and Billes

When your falſe Maſters care of my Lords meat ?

Then' they would ſmile and fawne upon his debts,

And take downe th'intreſt into their glutt'ous Mawes.

You doe your ſelv'es but wrong, to ſirre me up,

Let me paffe quietly :

Beleeve'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. Iſt will not ſerve, tis not to bafe as you,
For you ſerve Knaves.

I Varro. How? what does his caſheer'd Worſhip mut-
ter ?

2 Varro. No matter what, he's poore, and that's re-
venge enough. Who can ſpeake broader, then he that
has no houſe to put his head in ? Such may rayle againſt
great buildings.

Enter Servilius.

Tit. Oh heres Servilius: now we ſhall know ſome an-
ſwer.

Serv. If I might beſeech you Gentlemen, to repayre
ſome other houre, I ſhould derive much from't. For tak't
of my ſoule, my Lord leanes wondrously to diſcontent :
his comfortable temper has forſooke him, hes much out
of health, and keepeſ his Chamber.

Luci. Many doe keepe their Chambers, are not ſicke :
And if it be to farre beyond his health,

Me thinkes he ſhould the ſooner pay his debts,

And make a clear way to the gods.

Servil. Good gods.

Tit. We caunot take this for anſwer, fir.

Flaminius within. Servilius helpe, my Lord, my Lord.

Enter Timon in a rage.

Tim. What, are my dores oppos'd againſt my paffage?
Have I bin ever free, and muſt my houſe

Be my retentive Enemy ? My Goale ?

The place which I have Feaſted, does it now
(Like all Mankind) ſhow mean Iron heart ?

Luci. Put in now Titus.

Tit. My Lord, heere is my Bill.

Luci. Heres mine.

1 Var. And mine, my Lord.

2 Var. And ours, my Lord.

Phi. All our Billes.

Tim. Knocke me downe with em, cleave me to the
Girdle.

Luci. Alas my Lord.

Tim. Cut my heart in ſummes.

Tit. Mine, fifty Talents.

Tim. Tell out my bloud.

Luci. Five thouſand Crownes, my Lord.

Tim. Five thouſand drops payes that.

What yours ? and yours ?

1 Var. My Lord.

2 Var. My Lord.

Tim. Teare 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 deſpe-
rate ones, for a madman owes em.

Enter Timon.

Tim. They have e'ne put my breath from me the
flaves. Creditors ? Divels.

Stew. My deere Lord.

Tim. What if it ſhould be ſo ?

Stew. My Lord.

Tim. Ile have it ſo. My Steward ?

Stew. Heere my Lord.

Tim. So fitly ? Goe, bid all my Friends againe,
Lucius, Lucullus, add Sempronius : All,
Ile once more feaſt the Rafaſals.

Stew. O my Lord, you onely ſpeake from your diſtra-
ced ſoule; there's not ſo much left to furniſh out a mo-
derate Table.

Timon.

Timon of Athens.

117

Tim. Be it not in thy care :
Goe I charge thee, invite them all, let in the tide
Of Knaves once more: my Cooke and Ile provide Exemn.
Enter three Senators at one door, Alcibiades meeting them, with Attendants.

1 Sen. My Lord, you have my voyce, too't,
The faults Bloudy ;
Tis neceffary he should dye :

Nothing imboldens finne to much, as Mercy.

2 Moft true; the Law shall bruife em.

Ali. Honor, health, and compaffion to the Senate,

1 Now Captaine.

Ali. I am an humble Sutor to your Vertues ;
For pitty is the vertue of the Law,
And none but Tyrantsuſe it cruelly.
Ile pleafes time and Fortune to lye heavy
Upon a Friend of mine, who in hot blood
Hath lept into the Law : which is padding depth.
To hole that ( without heed) doe plundge into't.
He is a Man (letting his Fate adide) of comely Vertues,
Nor did he foyle the fact with Cowardice.

(And honour in him, which buyes out his fault)

But with a Noble Fury, and faire ſpirit,
Seing his Reputation touch'd to death,
He did oppofe his Foe ;

And with luch ſober and unnoted palfion

He did behoove his anger ere twas ſpent,

As if he had but prov'd an Argument.

1 Sen. You undergoe too ſtrict a Paradox,
Striving to make an ugly deed looke faire :
Your words have tooke luch paines, as they labourd
To bring Mad-flaughter into forme, and ſet Quarrelling
Upon the head of Valour; which indeed
Is Valour miſ-begot, and came into the world,
When Seets, and Faſtions were newly borne.
Hes truly Valiant, that can wifely ſuffer
The worſ that man can breath,
And make his wrongs, his Out-fides,
Toware them like his Rayment, careleſſely.
And ne're preferre his injurics to his heart,
To bring it into danger.

If wrongs be evills, and inforce us kill,
What Folly tis, to hazard life for ill.

Ali. My Lord.

1 Sen. You cannot make groſſe finnes looke clear,
Torevenge is no Valour, but to beare.

Ali. My Lords, then under favour, pardon me.
If I ppeak like a Captaine.

Why doe fond men expole themſelves to Battell,
And not endure all threats? sleepe upon't,

And let the Foes quietly cut their throats

Without repugnancy ? if there be

Such Valour in the bearing, what make we
Abroad? Why then, Women are more valiant

That fly at home, if Bearing carry it.

And the Aſſe, more Captaine then the Lyon ? the fellow
Loaden with Irons, wifer then the Judge?

If Wieldome be in suffering. Oh my Lords,

As you are great, be pittifull good,

Who cannot condemne rafhneſſe in cold blood ?

To kill, I grant, is finnes extreameſt Guſt,
But in defence, by Mercy, is moſt juſt.

To be in Anger, is impiet :

But who is Man, that is not Angry.

Weigh but the Crime with this.

2 Sen. You breath in vaine.

Ali. In vaine ?

His ſervic e done at Lacedemon, and Bizantium,
Were a ſuſcient briber for his life.

1 What's that?

Ali. Why I fay my Lords ha's done faire ſervice,
And ſaine in fight many of your enemies :

How full of valour did he beare himſelfe

In the laſt Conflict, and made plenteous wounds ?

2 He has made too much plenty with em
Hes a ſworne Riotor, he has a finne
That often drownes him, and takes his valour prifoner.
If there were no Fots, that were enough
To overcome him. In that Beaſtly ſury,
He has bin knowne to commit outrages,
And cherrifh Faſtions. Tis inferr'd to us,
His dayes are foule, and his drinke dangerous.

1 He dyes.

Ali. Hard fate: he might have dyed in warre.
My Lords, if not for any parts in him,
Though his right arme might purchase his owne time,
And be in debt to none: yet more to move you.
Take my deferts to his, and joyne em both.
And for I know, your reverend Ages love Security,
Ile pawne my Victories, all my honours to you,
Vpon his good returns.

If by this Crime, he owes the Law his life,
Why let the Waare receive't in valiant gore,
For Law is ſtrict, and Warre is nothing more.

1 We are for Law, he dyes, urge it no more
On height of our diſpleature: Friend, or Brother,
He forfeits his owne blood, that ſpilles another,

Ali. Muſt it be ſo? It muſt not bee :

My Lords, I doe beſeech you know me.

2 How ?

Ali. Call me to your remembrences.

3 What.

Ali. I cannot thinke but your Age has forgot me,
It could not eſſe be, I should prove to bace,
To ſue and be deny'd eſch common Grace.

My wounds ake at you.

1 Doe you dare our anger ?

Tis few words, but ſpacious in effect.

We banifh thee for ever.

Ali. Banifh me ?

Banifh your dotage, banifh uſury,

That makes the Senate ugly.

1 If after two dayes ſhine, Athens containe thee,
Attend our weightier Iudgement,

And not to ſwell our Spirit.

He ſhall be executed preſently.

Exeunt.

Ali. Now the gods keepe you old enough,
That you may live
Only in bone, that none may looke on you.

I'm worſe then mad : I have kept backe their Foes

While they have told their Money, and let out

Their Coyne upon large intereſt. I my ſelve,

Rich onely in large hurts. All thatoſe, for this ?

Is this the Balfome, that the uſuring Senat

Powres into Captaines wounds ? ha Banifhment.

It comes not ill: I hate not to be banifh,

It is a cauſe worthy my Spleene and ſury,

That I may ſtrike at Athens. Ile cheere up

My discontented Troopes, and lay for hearts :

Tis honour with moſt Lands to be at ods,

Souldiers should brooke as little wrongs as gods.

Exeunt.

Exeunt.

118

Timon of Athens.

Enter divers Friends at several doors.

1 The good time of day to you, fir.

2 I also wish it to you: I thinkke this honourable Lord
did but try us this other day—

1 Upon that were my thoughts tyring when we en-
countred. I hope it is not so low with him as he made it
feeme in the triall of his several Friends.

2 It should not be, by the perfusion of his new Fea-
ting.

1 I should thinke so: He hath sent me an earnest in-
viting, which many my neere occasions did urge me to
put off: but he hath conjur'd me beyond them, and I
must needs appeare.

2 In like manner was I in debt to my importunat bu-
fineffe, but he would not heare my excufe. I am forry,
when he sent to borrow of me, that my Provision was
out.

1 I am fick of that griefe too, as I underland how all
things goe.

2 Every man heares so: what would he have borrow-
ved of you?

1 A thousand Peces.

2 A thousand Peces?

1 What of you?

2 He fent to me fir—Heere 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 Sum-
mer Birds are men. Gentlemen, our dinner will not re-
compence this long ſlay: Feaſt your cares with the Mu-
ficke a while; if they will fare ſo harſhly o'th Trumpets
found: we ſhall too't prefently.

1 I hope it remains not unkindly with your Lordſhip,
that I return'd you an empty Meſſenger.

Tim. O fir, let it not trouble you.

2 My Noble Lord.

Tim. Ah my good friend, what cheere?

The Banket brought in.

2 My moſt honorable Lord, I am e'ne ſicke of ſhame,
that when your Lordſhip the other day ſent to me, I was
ſo unfortunate a Begger.

Tim. Thinke not on't, fir.

2 If you had ſent but two hours before.

Tim. Let it not cumber your better remembrance.

Come bring in alltogether.

2 All cover'd Diſhes.

1 Royall Cheare, I warrant you.

3 Doubt not that, if money and the leaſon can yeild it

1 How doe you? What's the newes?

3 Alcibiades is banilh'd : here you of it.

Both. Alcibiades banilh'd?

3 Tis ſo, be ſure of it.

1 How ? How ?

2 I pray you upon what ?

Tim. My worthy Friends, willyou draw neere ?

3 Ile tell you more anon, Here's a Noble feaſt toward

2 This is the old man ſtill,

3 Wilt hold ? Wilt hold ?

2 It does, but time will, and ſo.

3 I dee conceive.

Tim. Each man to his ſtoole, with that ſpurre as hee
would to the lip of his miftris: your dyet ſhal be in al pla-
ces alike. Make not a City. Feaſt of it, to let the meat
coole, ere we can agree upon the firſt place. Sir, fir.
The gods require our Thankes.

You great Benefactors, Sprinkle our Society with thanke-
fulneſſe. For your owne guifis, make your ſelves prais'd: But
referve still to give, leaſt your Deities be deſpised. Lend to each
man enough, that one needes not lend to another. For were your
Godheads to borrow of men, men would forſake the gods. Make
the Meate be beloved, more then the Man that gives 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 Atheni,
together with the common legge of People, what is amife in
them, you Godi, make ſutenable for deſtruſion. For theſe my
prefent Friends, as they are to me nothing, ſo in nothing bleſſe
them, and to nothing are they welcome.

Vinvcon Dogges, and lap.

Some ſkeake. What doc's his Lordſhip meane ?

Some other. I know not.

Tim. May you a better Feaſt never behold
You knot of Mouth-friends: Smoke, and lake warme
Is your perſection. This is Timons laſt,
(water

Who flucke and ſpangled you with flatreries,
Wathes i: off, and sprinkles in your faces

Your reeking villany. Live loath'd, and long

Moſt smiling, ſmooth, deteffed Parafites,

Curteous deſtroyers, aſſiable Wolves, mecke 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, What doſt thou goe ?

Soft, take thy Phyſicke firſt; thou too, and thou;

Stay I will lend thee money, borrow none.

What ? All in Motion ? Henceforth be no Feaſt,

Whereat a Villaine's not a welcome Gueſt.

Burne houſe, ſinke 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 Puff, did you fee my Cap?

4 I have loft my Gowne.

1 Hes but a mad Lord, and nought but humors ſwaies
him. He gave me a lewell th'other day, and now he has
beate it out of my hat.

Did you fee my Iewell ?

2 Did you fee my Cap.

3 Heere tis.

4 Heere lyes my Gowne.

1 Lets make no ſlay.

2 Lord Timons mad.

3 I fee't upon my bones.

4 One day he giues us Diamonds, next day ſtones.

Exenue the Senators,

Enter Timon.

Tim. Let me looke backe upon thee. Othou Wall
That girdles in thofe Wolves, dive in the earth,
And fence not Athens. Mutrons, turne incontinent,
Obedience fayle in Children: Slaves and Fooles

Plucke

120

Timon of Athens.

This yellow Slave,
Will knit and breake Religions, bleſſe th'accurſt,
Make the hoare Leproſic ador'd, place Theeves,
And give them Title, knee, and approbation
With Senators on the Bench ? This is it
That makes the wappen'd Widdow wed againe;
Shee, whom the Spittle-houſe, and viclerous forſes,
Would caſt the gorge at. This Embalmes and Spices
To'th'Aprill day againe. Come damn'd Earth,
Thou common where of Mankind, that puttes oddes
Among the rout of Nations, I will make thee.

Doe thy right Nature.
March afavre off.
Ha ? A Drumme ? Th'art quicke,
But yet Ile bury tee : Thou't goe (ſtrong Theeſe).
When Gowty keepers of thee cannot ſland :
Nay itay thou out for earneſt.

Enter Alcibiades with Drumme and Fift in warlike manner and Phrynia, and Timandra.

Alci. What art thou there ? (speake.)

Tim. A beaſt as thou art. The Canker gnaw thy heart
For ſhewing me againe the eyes of man,

Alci. What is thy name ? Is man ſo hatefull to thee,
That art thy ſelfe a Man ?

Tim. I am Misan thropos, and hate Mankind.

For thy part, I doe with thou wert a dogge,
That I might love thee ſomething.

Alci. I know thee well :

But in thy Fortunes am unlearn'd, and ſtrange.

Tim. I know thee to, and more then that I know thee
I not define to know, Follow thy Drumme,
With mans blood paint the ground Gules, Gules :
Religious Cannons, civil Lawes are cruell,
Then what ſhould warre be ? This ſell where of thine,
Hath in her more deftruction then thy Sword,
For all her Cherubin looke.

Phbrin. Thy lips rot off.

Tim. I will not kiffe thee, then the rot returns

To thine owne lippes againe.

Alci. How came the Noble Timon to this change ?

Tim. As the Moone doe's, by wanting light to give :
But then renew I could not like the Moone,
There were no Sunnes to borrow of.

Alci. Noble Timon, what friendſhip may I doe thee ?

Tim. None, but to maintaine my opinion.

Alci. What is it Timon ?

Tim. Promife me friendſhip, but performe none.
If thou wilt not promife, the Gods plague thee, for thou
art a man : if thou do'ſt performe, confound thee, for
thou art a man.

Alci. I have heard in ſome ſort of thy Miferies.

Tim. Thou ſawſt them when I had prosperity.

Alci. I fee them now, then was a bleſſed time.

Tim. As thine is now, held with a brace of Harlots.

Timan. I is this th' Athenian Minion, whom the world,
Voy'd for regardfully ?

Tim. Art thou Timandra ?

Taman. Yes.

Tim. Be a whole ſtill, they love thee not that ſeeth thee,
give them diſeafes, leaving with thee their Luft. Make
life of thy ſalt hours, ſeafon the flaves for Tubbes and
Bathes, bring downe Rofe-checkt youth to the Pubſaſt,
and the Diet.

Timan. Hang thee Monſter,

Alci. Pardon him I wſeet Timandra, for his wits
Are drown'd and loft in his Calamites.

I have but little Gold of late, brave Timon,

The want whereof, doth dayly make revolt
In my penurious Band. I have heard and greene
How curſed Athens, mindleſſe of thy worth,
Forgetting thy great deeds, when Neighbour states
But for thy Sword and Fortune trod upon them.

Tim. I prethee beate thy Drum, and get thee gone.

Alci. I am thy Friend, and pitty thee deere Timon.

Tim. How doſt thou pitty him whom thou doſt trou-
ble,
I had rather be alone.

Alci. Why fare thee well :

Here's ſome gold for thee.

Tim. Keepe it, I cannot eat it.

Alci. When I have laid proud Athens on a heape.

Tim. Warr'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 Conquer'd.

Alci. Why me, Timon?

Tim. That by killing of Villaines
Thou was't borne to conquer my Country.
Put up thy Gold. Go on, heeres Gold, goe on :
Be as a Plenetary plague, whom Iove
Will ore ſome high-Vic'd City, hang his poyſon
In the ſicke ayre : let not thy ſword skip one .
Pitty not honour'd Age for his white Beard,
He is an Vfurer. Strike me the counterſet Matron,
It is her habite onely, that is honſet,
Her ſelſes a Bawd. Let not the Virgins cheeke
Make doſt thy trenchant Sword: for thatle Milke pappes
That through the window Barne bore at mens eyes,
Are not within the Leafe of pitty writ.
But let them downe horrible Traitors. Spare not the Babe
Whofe dimpled ſmiles from Fooles exhaſt their mercy;
Thinke it a Baſtard, whom the Oracle
Hath doubtfully pronounced, the throat ſhall cut,
And mince it ſans remorſe. Sweare againſt Objects,
Put Armour on thine cares, and on thine eyes,
Whofe proofe, nor yels of Mothers, Maides, nor Babes
Nor fight of Priefes in holy Veſtments bleeding,
Shall pierce a jot. Theres Gold to pay thy Souldiers.
Make large conſuſion : and thy fury ſpent,
Conſounded be thy ſelfe. Speake not, be gone.

Alci. Haſt thou gold yet, Ile take the gold thou giveth me, not all thy Counſell.

Tim. Doſt thou or doſt thou not, Heavens curſe upon thee.

Bob. Give us ſome Gold good Timon, haſt thou more?

Tim. Enough to make a Whore forſweare her Trade,
And to make Whores, a Bawd. Hold up you Sluts
Your Aprons mountant; you are not Othable,
Although I know you'll ſweare, terribly ſweare
Into ſtrong ſhudders, and to heavenly Ages
Th'immortall gods that heare you. Spare your Oathes:
Ile truſt to your Conditions, he whores full.
And he whole pious breath ſeekes to convert you,
Be ſtrong in Whore, allure him, burne him up,
Let your cloſe fire predominate his ſmoke,

And be no turne-coats yet may your paines ſix months
Be quite contrary. And Thatch

Your poore thin Roofes with burthens of the dead,
(Some that were hang'd) no matter :

Weare them, betray with them; Whore ſtill,
Paint till a horſe may myre upon your ſace :

A pox of wrinkles.

B. Both. Well, more Gold, what then?

Beleeve't.

["Timon of Athens.", "121", "Beeve't that wee'l do any thing for Gold.", "Tim. Consumptions fowe?", "In hollow bones of man, strike their charge thinnes,\nAnd marre mens spurring. Cracke the Lawyers voyce,\nThat he may never more false Title pleade,\nNor found his Quillets shrilly; Hoare the Flamens,\nThat foldt aft against the quality of fleth,\nAnd not believes himselfe. Downe with the Noſe,\nDowne with it flat, take the Bridge quite away", "Of him, that his particular to foreſee (bald\nSmels from the generall weale. Make curd'pate Ruffians\nAnd let the unfear'd Braggarts of the Warre\nDerive ſome paine from you. Plagveall,\nThat your Activity may defeat and quell\nThe ſourſe of all Erection. There's more Gold.\nDo you damne others, and let this damne you,\nAnd ditches grave you all.", "Bibl. More counſell with more Money, bounteous Timon.", "Tim. More wherewith Mischeefe firſt, I have given you earnſt.", "Alc. Strike up the Drum towards Athens, farewell Timon: if I thrive well, Ile uſit thee againe.", "Tim. If I hope well, Ile never fee thee more,", "Alc. Inever did the harme.", "Tim. Yes, thou ſpok't well of me,", "Alc. Call it thou that harme ?", "Tim. Men dayly finde it. Get thee away,", "And take thy Beagles with thee.", "Alc. We but offend him, strike.", "Exemnus.", "Tim. That Nature being ſicke of mans unkindneſſe", "Should yet be hungry: Common Mother, thou", "Whole wombe vnmaſcureable, and infinite breſt", "Teemes and feedsall: whole ſelfeſame Mettle", "Whereof thy proud Child (arrogant man) is puſe,", "Engenders the blacke Toad, and Adder blew,", "The gilded Newt, and eyeſclepe venom'd Worme,", "With all th'abhorred Births below Crispe Heaven,", "Whereon Hypersions quickning fire doth thine:", "Yield him, who all the humane Sonnes do hate,", "From fourth thy plentious boſome, one poore rootes", "Endure thy Fertile and Conceptions wombe,", "Let it no more bring out ingratefull man.", "Goe great with Tygers: Dragons, Wolues, and Beares,", "Teeme with new Monſters, whom thy upward face", "Hath to the Marbled Manſion all above", "Never prefented. O, a Root, deare thanks:", "Dry up thy Marrowes, Vines, and Plough-torne Leas,", "Whereof ingratefull man with Licourilh draughts.", "And Morſels Vnconious, graſeſes his pure minde,", "That from it all Conſideration flippes—", "Enter Apemantus.", "More man ? Plague, plague.", "Ape. I was directed hither. Men report,", "Thou doſt affect my Manners, and doſt uſe them.", "Tim. 'Tis then, becauſe thou doſt not keepe a dogge", "Whom I would imitate, Conſumption catch thee.", "Ape. This is in thee a Nature but infecited,", "Apooreunmanly Melancholy ſprung", "From change of future. Why this Spader this place?", "This Slave like Habit, and theſe lookes of Care?", "Thy Flatterers yet weare Silke, drinke Wine, lye foſes,", "Hugge their diſeateſed Perfumes, and have forgot", "That ever Timon was. Shame not theſe Woods,", "By putting on the cunning of a Carper.", "Be thou a Flatterer now, and feeke to thrive", "By that which ha's undone thee; hindge thy knee,\nAnd let his very breath whom thou'lt obſerve", "Blow of thy Cap : praiſe his moſt vicious ſtraine,\nAnd call it excellent : thou waſt told thus :", "Thou gav't thine eares (like Tapſters, that bid welcome)", "To Knaves, and all approachers: 'Tis moſt uſt", "That thou turne Rafterall, had't thou wealth againe,", "Raſcalls should have't, Do not allume my likeneſſe,", "Tim. Where like thee, I'de throw away my ſelfe.", "Ape. Thou haſt caſt away thy ſelfe, being like thy ſelfe", "A Madman ſo long, now a Foole: what think't", "That the bleake ayre, thy boyſterous Chamberlaine", "Will put thy ſhirt on warmer? Will theſe moſt yuſt Trees,", "That have out-liv'd the Eagle, page thy heeles", "And skip when thou point't out? Will the cold brooke", "Candied with Ice, Cawdle thy Morning taſte", "To cure thy o're-nights ſurſet? Call the Creatures,", "Whose naked Natures live in all the ſpight", "Of wrekefull Heaven, whose bare unhouſed Trunkes,", "To the conflicting Elements expos'd", "Anſwer meere Nature: bid them flatter thee.", "O thou haſt ſinde.", "Tim. A Foole of thee: depart.", "Ape. I love the better now, then ere I did.", "Tim. I hate thee worſe.", "Ape. Why ?", "Tim. Thou flatter't miſery.", "Ape. I flatter not, but ſay thou art a Caytiffe.", "Tim. Why doſt thou ſeeke me out ?", "Ape. To vex thee.", "Tim. Alwaies a Villaines Oſſice, or a Foole.", "Doſt pleafe thy ſelfe in't ?", "Ape. I.", "Tim. What, a Knave too?", "Ape. If thou did't put this ſowre cold habit on", "To caſtigate thy pride, 'twere well : but thou", "Doſt it enforcedly : Thou'lt Coſintier be againe", "Wert thou not Beggar: willing miſery", "Out-lives : in certaine pompe, is crown'd before :", "The one is filling ſil, never compleat :", "The other, at high wif: beſt ſlade Contentleſſe,", "Hath a diſtracted and moſt wretched being,", "Worſe then the worſt, Content.", "Thou should't defire to dye, being miſerable.", "Tim. Nor by his breath, that is more miſerable.", "Thou art a Slave, whom Fortunes tender arme", "With favour never claſp: but bred a Dogge.", "Had't thou likeus from our firſt ſwath proceeded,", "The ſweet degrees that this brieſe world affords,", "To ſuch as may the paſſive drugges of it", "Freely command't: thou would't have plung'd thy ſelfe", "In generall Riot, melted downe thy youth", "In different beds of Luſt, and never learn'd", "The Ieie precepts of reſpect, but followed", "Tye sugred game before thee. But my ſelfe,", "Who had the world as my Confectionary,", "The mouthes, the tongues, the eyes, and hearts of men,", "At duty more then I could frame employments :", "That numberleſſe upon the flucke, as leaves", "Do on the Oake, have with one Winters bruch", "Fell from their boughes, and left me open bare,", "For every ſtorme that blowes. I to beare this,", "That never knew but better, isſume burthen :", "Thy Nature, did commence in ſufferance, Time", "Hath made the hard in't. Why should't thou hate Men?", "They never flatter'd thee. What haſt thou given ?", {"

Timon of Athens.

If thou wilt entrfe: thy Father (that poore ragge)

Must be thy fubieſt; who in pight put fluffe

To some ſhee-Begger, and compounded thee

Poore Rogve, hereditary. Hence be gone,

If thou hadst not beene borne the worſt of men,

Thou hadſt bene 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.

Were all the wealth I have flut up in thee,

I'd give the leave to hang it. Get the gone :

That the whole life of Athens were in this,

Thus would I eate it.

Ape. Heere, I will mend thy ſeſt.

Tim. First mend thy company, takeaway thy ſelfe.

Ape. So I ſhall mend mine owne, by th' lacke of thine

Tim. 'Tis not well mended, ſo, it is but botch;

If not, I would it were.

Ape. What would it thou have to Athens ?

Tim. Thee thither in a whirlewind : if thou wile,

Tell them there I have Gold, looke, ſo I have.

Ape. Heere is no uſe for Gold.

Tim. The beſt, and trueſt :

For here it ſleepes, and do's no hyred harme.

Ape. Where lyeſt a nights Timon ?

Tim. Vnder that's above me.

Where feed it thou a dayes Apemantus ?

Ape. Where my ſtomacke findes meate, or rather

where I eate it.

Tim. Would poy ſon were obedient, and knew my mind

Ape. Where would it thou ſend it ?

Tim. To fawce thy diſhes.

Ape. The middle of Humanity thou never knewſt,
but the extremity of both ends. When thou waſt in thy
Gilt, and thy Perfume, they mockt thee for too much
Carioſity : in thy Ragges thou know ſt none, but art de-
fis'd for the contrary. Ther's a medler for thee, eate it.

Tim. On what I hate, I feed not.

Ape. Do it hate a Medler ?

Tim. I, though it looke like thee.

Ape. And th' hadſt hated Medlers ſooner, thou ſhould'ſt
have loved thy ſelfe better now. What man did it thou
ever know unthrift, that was beloved after his meaneſ ?

Tim. Who without hofe meaneſ thonk talk it of, did it
thou ever know beſov'd ?

Ape. My ſelfe.

Tim. I understand thee : thou had it ſome meaneſ to
keepe a Dogge.

Ape. What things in the world canſt thou neereſt
compare to thy Flatterers ?

Tim. Women neereſt, but men : men are the things
themselves. What would it thou do with the world A-
pemantus, if it lay in thy power ?

Ape. Give it the Beaſts, to be rid of the men.

Tim. Would it thou have thy ſelfe fall in the conſuſon
of men, and remaine a Beaſt with the Beaſts.

Ape. I Timon.

Tim. A beaſtly Ambition, which the Goddes grant
thee t'attaine to. If thou wert the Lyon, the Fox would
beguile thee : if thou wert the Lambe, the Foxe would
eate thee : if thou wert the Fox, the Lion would ſuſpect
thoe, when peradventure thou wert accuſ'd by the Aſſe.
If thou wert the Aſſe, thy dulneſſe would torment thee :
and ſtill thou liu'dt but as a Breakeſt to the Wolfe. If
thou wert the Wolfe, thy greedineſſe would afflіct thee,

and oft thou ſhold it hazard thy life for thy dinner. Wert
thou the Vnicorne, pride and wrath would confound
thée, and make thine owne ſelfe the conquelt of thy ſury.
Wert thou a Beare, thou would it be kill'd by the Horſe:
wert thou a Horſe, thou would it be ſeaz'd by the Leo-
pard : wert thou a Leopard, thou wert Germane to the
Lion, and the ſpottes of thy Kindred, were Iurors on thy
life. All thy ſafety were remotion, and thy defence ab-
fence. What Beaſt could it thou bee, that were not ſub-
jeſt to a Beaſt : and what a Beaſt art thou already, that
ſeeth not thy loffe in transformation.

Ape. If thou could it pleafe me
With ſpeaking to me thou might it
Have hit upon it heere.

The Common wealth of Athens, is become

A Forreſt of Beaſts*

Tim. How ha's 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 feare to catch it, and give way.

When I know not what eſle to do,

Ile ſee thee againe.

Tim. When there is nothing living but thee,
Thou ſhalt be welcome.

I had rather be a Beggers Dogge,

Then Apemantus.

Ape. Thou art the Cap

Of all the Fooles alive.

Tim. Would thou wert cleane enough

To ſpit upon.

Ape. A plague on thee,

Thou art too bad to curie.

Tim. All Villaines

That do ſtand by thee, are pure.

Ape. There is no Leproſe,

But what thou ſpeak it.

Tim. If I name thee, Ile beate thee;

But I should inſect my hands.

Ape. I would my tongue

Could rot them off.

Tim. Away thou iſſue of a mangy dogge.

Coller does kill me.

That thou art alive, I ſwoond to fee thee,

Ape. Would thou would it burſt,

Tim. Away thou cedious Rogue, I am ſorry I ſhall loffe
a ſtone by thee,

Ape. Beaſt.

Tim. Slave.

Ape. Toad.

Tim. Rogue, Rogue, Rogue.

I am ſicke of this ſalſe world, and will love nought

But own the meere neceſſities upon't :

Then Timon prefently prepare thy grave :

Lye where the light Fome of the Sea may beate

Thy grave-stone dayly, make thine Epitaph,

That death in me, at others lives may laugh.

O thou fweete King-killer, and deare divorce

Twixt naturall Sunne and fire: thou bright defiler
of Himeneu pureſt bed, thou valiant Mars,

Thou ever, young, ſrefn, loved, and delicate wooer,

Whofe bluſh doth thawe the conſecrated Snow

That lies on Dians lap.

Thou vifible God,

That ſouldreſt cloſe Impoſſibilities.

And mak it them kiffe ; that ſpeak it with every Tongue
To

Timon of Athens.

123

To every purpose ; O thou touch of hearts,
Thinke thy slave-man rebels, and by thy vertue
Set them into confounding oddes, that Beasts
May have the world in Empire.

Ap. Would'twere so,

But not till I am dead. I lefay th'haft Gold :
Thou wilt be throng'd too shortly.

Tim. Throng'd too ?

Ape. I.

Tim. Thy backe I prythee.

Ape. Live, and love thy mifery,

Tim. Long live so, and so dye. I am quit.

Ape. Mo things like men;

Eate Timon, and abhorre then.

Exit Apeman

Enter the Bandettii.

1 Where should he have this Gold ? It is some poore
Fragment, some slender Ort of his remainder : the meere
want of Gold, and the falling from of his Friendes, drove
him into this Melancholly.

2 It is nois'd

He hotha a maffe of Treasur'e,

3 Let us make the aflay upon him, if he care not for't,
he will supply us eafily : if he couetoufly referue it, how
thall's get it ?

2 True : for he beares it not about him :

Tis hid.

1 Is not this hee ?

All, Where ?

2 Tis his defeription.

3 He ? I know him.

All. Save thee Timon.

Tim. Now Theeves.

All, Soldiers, not Theeves.

Tim. Both too, and womens Sons.

All. We are not Theeves, but men

That much do want.

Tim. Your greatest want is, you want much of meat :
Why should you want? Behold, the Earth hath Rootes :

Within this Mile breake forth a hundred Springs:

The Oakes beare Maſt, the Briers Scarlet Hips,

The bounteous Hufwife Nature, on each bush,

Lays her full Mefle before you. Want? why Want?

1 We cannot live on Graſte, on Berries, Water,
as Beaſts, and Birds, and Fifhes.

Ti. Nor on the Beaſts themſelves, the Birds and Fifhes,
You muſt eate men. Yet thanks I muſt you con,

That you are Theeves proſeſt : that you worke not

In holier ſhapes : For there is boundleſſe Theft

In limited Proſeffions. Raſcall Theeves

Heu's Gold. Go, ſucke the fubtle blood o' th' Grape,

Till the high Feavour teeth your blood to froth,

And ſo ſcape hanging. Truſt not the Phyſitian,

His Antidotes are poyſon, and he ſlayes

Moe then you Rob : Take wealth, and live together,
Do Villaine do, ſince you proteſt to doo't.

Like Workemen, He example you with Theevery :

The Sunnes a Theeſe, and with his great attraction
Robbes the valle Sea, The Moones an arrant Theeſe.

And her pale fire, the ſnatches from the Sunne.

The Seas a Theeſe, whoſe liquid Surge, reſolues

The Moone into Salt ſteares. The Earth's a Theeſe,

That feeds and breeds by a compoſure ſtolne

From gen'rall excrement : each think's a Theeſe.

The Lawes, your curbe and whip, in their rough power

Ha's uncheck'd Theft. Love not your ſelves, away,
Robone another, there's more Gold, cut throates,
All that you meete are Theeves : to Athens go,

Breake open ſhoppes, nothing can you ſteale
But Theeves do loofe it : ſteale leſſe, for this I give you

And Gold confound. you howſoere : Amen.

3 Has almoſt charm'd me from my Proſeſſion, by per-
ſwading me to it.

1 'Tis in the malice of mankinde, that he thus adviſes
vs notto have vs thrive in our myſtery,

2 He lebeee him as an Enemy,

And give over my Trade.

1 Let vs firſt fee peace in Athens, there is no time ſo
miferable but a man may be true.
Exeunt Theeves.

Enter the Sewer'd to Timon.

Stw. Oh you Gods !

Is yon'd diſpis'd and ruinous man my Lord ?

Full of decay and ſayling? Oh Monument

And wonder of good deeds, evilly beſtow'd !

What an alteration of Honor has deſp'rate want made ?

What vilder thing upon the earth, then Friends,

Who can bring Nobleft mindeſt, to bafeſt ends,

How rarely does it meete with this times guife,

When man was wifht to love his Enemies :

Grant I may ever love, and rather woo

Thofe that would miſcreeſe me, then thofe that doo.

Has caught me in his eye, I will preſent my honſt grieſe
unto him; and as my Lord, ſtill ſerve him with my life.

My deereſt Maſter.

Tim. Awaſy : what art thou ?

Stew. Have you ſorg't me. Sir ?

Tim. Why doſt aske that? I haue ſorg't all men.

Then if thou grunt it th'art a man,

I have ſorg't thee.

Stew. An honſt poore ſeruant of yours.

Tim. Then I know thee not :

I never had honſt man about me, I all,

I kept were Knaues, to ſerve in meate to Villaines,

Stew. The Gods are witneſſe,

Nev'r did poore Steward ware a truer greeſe

For his undone Lord, then mine eyes for you.

Tim. What doſt thou weepe ?

Come neerer, then I love thee

Becaufe thou art a woman, and diſclaim'ſt

Flinty mankinde: whole eyes do never give,

But thorow Luſt and Laugher : pittie's ſleeping : (ping.

Strange times that weepe with laughing, not with wee-

Stew. I begge of you to know me, good my Lord,

T'accept my greeſe, and whal'ſt this poore wealth laſts,

To entertaine me as your Steward ſtill.

Tim. Had I a Steward

So true, ſo iuſt, and now ſo comfortable ?

It almoſt turnes my daungerous Nature wild.

Let me behold thy face : Surely, this man

Was borne of woman.

Forgive my generall, and exceptleſſe rathneſſe

You perpetual ſober Gods. I do proclaime

One honſt man : Miſtake me not, but one :

No more I pray, and hee's a Steward.

How faire would I have hated all mankinde,

And thou redeem'ſt thy ſelfe. But all ſave thee,
I fell with Curſes,

Me thiaketh thou art more honſt now then wife ;

For, by oppreſſing and betraying mee,

11 2

Thong

lague
To

Timon of Athens.

124

Thou mightst have sooner got another Service :
For many, so arrive at second Masters,
Vpon their first Lords necke. But tell me true,
(For I must ever doubt, though ne're so faire)
Is not thy kindnesse subtle, coucous,
If not a Vfuring kindnesse, and as rich men deale Guifts,
Expecting in returne twenty for one ?

Stew No my moft worthy Maſter, in whole breſt
Doubt, and ſuſpect (alas) are plac'd to late :
You should have fear'd falſe times, when you did Feaſt.
Sufpect till comes where an eſtate is leaſt,
That which I ſhew, Heaven knowes, is meereſly Love,
Duty, and Zeale, to your unmarched minde;
Care of your Food and Living, and believe it,
My moſt honovr'd Lord,
For any benefit that points to mee,
Either in hope, or preſent, I'd exchange
For this one wifh, that you had power and wealth
To requite me, by making rich your ſelſe.

Tim. Looke the 'tis fo : thou ſingly honelt man,
Heere take : the Gods out of my mifery
Ha's ſent the Treafure. Go, live rich and happy.
But thus condition'd : Thou ſhalt build from men:
Hate all, curſe all, ſhew Charity to none,
But let the famiſt ſleſh slide from the bone,
Ere thou reeleve the Begger. Give to dogges
What thou denyſt to men. Let Prifons ſallow'em,
Debts wither'em to nothing, be men like blaſted woods
And may Dileaſes licee vp their falſe bloods,
And ſo farewell, and thrive.

Stew. O let me ſtay and comfort you my Maſter:
Tim. If thou hat'ſt Curſes
Stay not: flye, whil'ſt thou art bleſt and free :
Ne're fee thou man, and let me ne're fee thee.

Exit.

Enter Poet, and Painter.

Pain. As I tooke note of the place, it cannot be farre
Where he abides,

Poet. What's to be thought of him ?
Does the Rumor hold for true,
That hee's ſo full of Gold ?

Painter. Certaine.

Alcibiades reports it : Phrinia and Timandra
Had Gold of him, he likewife enrich'd
Poore ſtragling Soldiers, with great quan'ty.
Tis ſtaide, he gave unto his Steward
A mighty ſummee.

Poet. Then this breaking of his,
Ha's beene but a try for his Friends ?

Painter. Nothing eſſe :
You shall fee him a Palme in Athens againe,
And flowrish with the highest:
Therefore, 'tis not amife, we render our loves
To him, in this ſuppos'd diſtrefſe of his :
It will ſhew honetly in us,
And is very likely, to loade our purpofes
With what they travaile for,
If it be a luſt and true report, that goes
Of his having.

Poet. What have you now
To preſent unto him ?

Painter. Nothing at this time
But my Viſitation : onely I will promife him
An excellent Peece.

Poet. I muſt ferue him ſo too;
Tell him of an intent that's comming toward him.

Painter. Good as the beſt
Promiſing, is the very Ayre o'th'Time ;
It opens the eyes of Expectation.
Performance, is ever the duller for his aſſe,
And but in the plainer and ſimpler kind of people,
The decede of Saying is quiet out of use.
To promife, is moſt Gourtly and fathionable ;
Performance, is a kind of Will or Teſtament
Which argues a great ſickenesſe in his iudgement
That makes it.

Enter Timon from his Cave.

Timon. Excellent Workeman,
Thou canſt not paint a man ſo badde
As is thy ſelſe.

Poet. I am thinking
What I ſhall say I have provided for him :
It muſt be a perſonating of himſelfe:
A ſatyre againſt the ſoſtneſſe of Prosperity,
With a Diſcovery of the infinite Flatteries
That follow youth and opulency.

Timon. Muſt thou needes
Stand for a Villaine inthine owne Worke ?
Wilt thou whip thine owne faults in other men ?
Do ſo, I have Gold for thee.

Poet. Nay let's ſeeke him.
Then do we ſinne againſt our owne eſtate,
When we may profit meete, and come too late.

Painter. True :
When the day ſerues before blacke-corner'd night;
Finde what thou want'ſt, by free and offer'd light.
Come.

Tim. Ile meete you at the turne :
What a Gods Gold, that he is worſhipt
In a baſer Temple, then where Swine feede ?
'Tis thou that rigg'ſt the Barke, and plow'ſt the Fome,
Setſlet admired reverence in a Slave,
To thee be worſhipt, and thy Saints for aye :
Be crown'd with Plagues, that thee alone obay.

Fit I meete them.

Poet. Haile worthy Timon.
Pain. Our late Noble Maſter.
Timon. Have I once liv'd
To fee two honest men ?
Poet. Si :
Having often of your open Bounty teſted,
Hearing you were rety'r'd, your Friends falne oſſ,
Whole thankeleſſe Natures (O abhorred Spirits)
Not all the Whippes of Heaven, are large enough,
What, to you,

Whofe Starre-like Noblenefle gave life and influence
To their whole being ? I am rapt, and cannot cover
The monſtrus bulke of this Ingratitude
With any ſize of words.

Timon. Let it go,
Naked men may fee't the better :
You that are honest, by being what you are,
Make them beſt ſeene, and knowne.
Pain. He, and my ſelſe
Have travail'd in the great ſhowre of your guifts.
And ſweetly felt it.

Timon. I, you are honest men.
Painer. We are hither come
To offer you our ſevice.

Timon. Moſt honest men:

Why

Timon of Athens.

125

Why how shall I requite you?

Can you eate Roots, and drinke cold water, nor

Bath. What we can do,

Wee'd I do to do you feruice.

Tim. Yare honest men,

Yhave heard that I have Gold,

I am sure you have, fpeake truth, y'are honest men,

Pain. So it is said my Noble Lord, but therefore

Came not my Friend, nor I.

Timon. Good honest man: Thou draw'st a counterfet
Bef in all Athens, th'art indeed the best,
Thou counterfet'st noft lively.

Pain, So, so, my Lord,

Tim. E'ac so fir as I fay. And for thy ſiſtion,

Why thy Verſe ſwels with ſtuffe ſo fine and ſmooth,

That thon art even Naturall in thine Art.

But for all this (my honest Natur'd friends)

Imuſt needs ſay you have a little fault,
Marry't is not monſtrous in you, neither with I
You take much paines to mend.

Bath, Befeech your Honour

Tomake it knowne to us.

Tim. You'll take it ill.

Bath. Moſt thankfully, my Lord.

Timon. Will you indeed?

Bath. Doubt it not worthy Lord.

Tim. There's never a one of you but truſts a Knave,
That mightily deceives you.

Bath, Do we, my Lord?

Tim. I, and you beare him cogge,

See him diſtembble,

Know his groſſe patchery, love him, feede him,

Kepe in your boſome, yet remaine after'd

That he's a made-up-Villaine.

Pain. I know none ſuch, my Lord.

Pain. Nor I.

Tim. Looke you,

I love you well, Ile give you Gold

Rid me these Villaines from your companies;

Hang them, or ſtab them, drowne them in dranght,

Conſound them by ſome courſe, and come to me,

Ile give you Gold enough.

Bath. Namethem my Lord, let's know them.

Tim. You that way, and you this :

But two in company :

Each man a part, all ſingle, and alone,

Yet an arch Villaine keepes him company :

If where thou art, two Villaines ſhall not be,
Come nor neere him. If thou would'ſt not recide

But where one Villaine is, then him abandon.

Hence, packe, there's Gold, ye came for Gold ye flaves :

You have worke for me; there's payment, thence,

You are an Alcumiſt, make Gold of that :

Out Raſcall dogges.

Exeunt.

Enter Steward, and two Senators.

Stew. It is vaine that you would ſpeake with Timon:

For he is ſer ſo onely to himſelfe,

That nothing but himſelfe, which looks like man,
Is friendly with him.

1. Sen. Bring us to his Cave.

It is our part and promife to th' Athenians
To ſpeake with Timon.

2. Sen. At all times alike

Men are not ſtill the fame : 'twas Time and Greeſes

That fram'd him thus. Time with his fairer hand,
Offering the Fortunes of his former dayes,

The former man may make him: bring us to him
And chanc'e it as it may,

Stew. Heere is his Cave:

Peace and content be heere- Timon, Timon.

Looke out, and ſpeak to Friends : I h' Athenians

By two of their moſt reverend Senate greet thee :
Speake to them Noble Timon.

Enter Timon out of his Cave.

Tim. Thou Sunne that comfort burne,

Speake and be hang'd :

For each true word, a blifter, and each falſe

Be as a Catherizing to the root o'th'Tougne,

Confuming 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 thanke them,

And would ſend them backe the plague,

Could I but catch it for them.

1 O forget

What we are ſorry for our ſelves in thee :

The Senators, with one confent of love,

Intreat thee backe to Athens, who have thought

On ſpeciall Dignities, which vacant I ye

For thy beſt uſe and wearing.

2 They confefſe

Toward thee, forgetfulneſſe too generall groſſe;

Which now the publike Body, which doth ſildome

Play the re-canter, feeling in it ſelſe

A lacke of Timons ayde, hath ſince withall

Of it owne fall, reſtraining ayde to Timon,

And ſend forth us, to make their ſorrowed render,

Together, with a recompence more fruitful full

Then their offence can weigh downe by the Dramme,

I even ſuch heapes and ſummes of Love and Wealth,

As ſhall to thee blot out, what wrongs were theirs,

And write in thee the figures of their love,

Ever to read them thine.

Tim. You, witch me in it ;

Surprize me to the very brinke of teares;

Lend me a Fooles heart, and a womans eyes,

And I e beweep the ſecomforts, worthy Senators.

1 Therefore ſo pleafe thee to returne with us,

And of our Athens, thine and curs to take

The Captainehip, thou ſhalt be met with thanks,

Allowed with abſolute power and thy good name

Live with Authority : ſo foone we shall drive backe

Of Aleſbiades h'approaches wilde

Who like a Boare too favage, doth root up

His Countries peace.

2 And flakes his threatening Sword

Againſt the walls of Athens.

1 Therefore Timon.

Tim. Well fir, I will: therefore I will fir thus:

If Aleſbiades kill my Countrymen,

Let Aleſbiades know this of Timon,

That Timon cares not, But if he ſacke faire Athens,

And take our goodly aged men by'th'Beards,

Giving our holy Virgins to the ſtaine

Of contumelions, beaſtly, mad-brain'd warre :

Then let him know, and tell him Timon ſpeakes it.

113

In

Timon of Athens.

In pitty of our aged, and our youth,
I cannot choose but tell him that I care not,
And let him take't at workt: For their Knives care not,
While you have throats to anfwer. For my selfe,
There's not a whittle, in th' unruly Campe,
But I do prize it at my love, before
The reverend Throat in Athens. So I leave you
To the protection of the p roperous Gods,
As Theeves to Keepers.

Stew. Stay not, all's in vaine.

Tim. Why I was writing of my Epitaph,
It will be feene to morrow, My long tickneſſe
Of Health, and Living, now begins to mend,
And nothing brings me all things. Go, live ſtill,
Be Alcibiades your plague; you his,
And laſt to long enough.

I We ſpeake in vaine,

Tim. But yet I love my Country, and am not
One that reioyces in the common wracke,
As common bruite doth put it.

I That's well ſpoke.

Tim. Commend me to my loving Countreymen.

I Theſe words become your lippes as they paffe thorow
them.

2 And enter in our eares, like great Triumphers

In their applauding gates.

Tim. Commend me to them,

And tell them, that to eafe them of their greeſes,
Their feares of Hoftile ſtrokes, their Aches loſſes,
Their pangs of Loue, with other incident throwes
That Natures fragile Veffell doth ſuffaine
In lifes uncertaine voyage, I will ſome kindines do them.
Ile teach them to prevent wilde Alcibiades wrath.

I I like this well, he will returne againe.

Tim. I have a Tree which growes here in my Cloſe,
That mine owneſte inuites me to cut downe,
And ſhortly muſt I fell it. Tell my Friends,
Tell Athens, in the frequency of degree,

From high to low throughout, that who ſo pleaſe
To toſp Affiſtio n, let him take his haſte ;
Come hither ere my Tree hath felt the Axe,
And hang himſelfe. I pray you do my greeting.

Stew. Trouble him no further, thus you ſtill haſt
Finde him.

Tim. Come not to me againe, but ſay to Athens,
Timon hath made his eueraſtuing Manſion
Vpon the Beached Verge of the ſalt Flood,
Which once a day with his emboſſed Froth
The turbulent Surge ſhall cover; thither come,
And let my grave-flone be your Oracle :
Lippes, let ſoure words go by, and Language end :
What is amife, Plague and Inſection mend.

Graves only be mens workes, and Death their gaine;
Sunne, hide thy Beames, Timon hath done his Raigne,

Exit Timon.

I His diſcontents are unremoveably coupled to Na-
ture.

2 Our hope in him is dead: let us returne,
And ſtraine what other meanes is left unto us
In our deere perill.

I It requires ſwift foot.

Exeunt.

Enter two other Senators, with a Messengër.

I Thou haſt painfully diſcover'd: are his Files
As full as they report?

Mef. I have ſpoke the leaſt.

Befides his expedition p[ro]mifes p[re]ſent approach.

2 We land 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 ſpeake like Friends. This man was riding
From Alcibiades to Timons Cave,
With Letters of intreaty, which imported
His Fellowship i' th' cauſe against your City,
In part for his lake mov'd.

Enter the other Senators.

I Heere come our Brothers.

3 Not alke of Timon, nothing of him expeſt,
The Enemies Drumme is heard and ſeaſeull ſcouring
Doth choake the ayre with duſt: In, and prepare,
Ours is the fall I ſeare, our Foes the Snare.

Exeunt.

Enter a Souldier in the Woods seeking Timon.

Sol. By all deſeripti on this ſhould be the place.

Whos here? ſpeake hoa. No anſwer? What is this?
Timon is dead, who hath out-stretcht his ſpan,
Some Beaſt reade this; There do's no live a Man,
Dead ſure, and this his Grave, what's on this Tomb,
I cannot read : the Charaſter Ile take with wax,
Our Captaine hath in every Figure skill,
An ag'd Interpreter, though yong in dayes :
Before proud Athens hee's ſet downe by this,
Whose fall the marke of his ambition is.

Exit

Trumpets found. Enter Alcibiades with his Powers before Athens.

Alc. Sound to this Coward and laſcivious Towne,
Our terrible approach.

Sounds a Party,

The Senators appear upon the walls.

Till now you have gone on, and fill the time
With all Licentious meaſure, making your willes
The ſcpe of Juſtice. Till now my ſelfe and ſuch
As ſlept within the ſhadow of your power
Have wander'd with our traverſt Armes, and breath'd
Our ſufferance vainly. Now the time is fluff,
W hen crouching Marrow in the bearer ſtrong
Cries (of it ſelie) no more: Now breathleſſe wrong,
Shall fit and pant in your great Chaires of eafe,
And purſie Inſolence ſhall breake his winde
With feare and horrid flight.

I. Sen. Noble and young;

When thy first greeſes were but a meere conceit,
Ere thou had'ſt power, or we had cauſe to ſcare,
We feat to thee, to give thy rages Balme,
To wipe out our Ingratitude, with Loves
Above their quantity.

2 So did we wooe

Transformed Timon to our Cities love
By humble Meſſage, and by promiſt meanes :
We were not all unkinde, nor all deferve
The common ſtroke of warre.

I Thefe walles of ours,

Were not ereſed by their hands, from whom
You have receiv'd your greeſe: Nor are they ſuch,
That heſe great Towres, Tropehees, & Schools ſhould fall
For private ſaults in them.

2 Nor are they living

Who

Timon of Athens.

127

Who were the motives that you first went out,
Shame (that they wanted cunning in exceſſe)
Hath broke their hearts, Martch, Noble Lord,
Into our City with thy Banners ſpred,
By decimation and a tythed death;
If thy Revenges hunger for that Food
Which Nature loathes, take thou the deſtin'd tenth,
And by the hazard of the ſpotted dye,
Let dye 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 deere Countryman,
Bring in thy rankes, but leave without thy rage,
Spare thy Athenian Cradle, and thofe Kin
Which in the bluster of thy wrath muſt fall
With those that have offended, like a ſhe heard,
Approch the Fold, and cull th'infected forth,
But kill not al together.

2 What thou wilt,
Thou rather ſhalt inforce it with thy ſmile,
Then hew too'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 warres as thy redreſſe,
And not as our Confuſion: All thy Powers
Shall make their harbour in our Towne till wee
Have feal'd thy full defire.

Ale. Then there's my Glove,
Defend and open your uncharged Ports,

Thofe Enemies of Timons, and mine owne
Whom you your ſelves ſhall ſet out for reproofe,
Fall and no more; and to attrone your ſeaſ
With my more Noble meaning, not a man
Shall pafle his quarter, or offend the ſtreame
Of Regular Iuſtice in your Cities bounds,
But ſhall be remedied by your publique Lawes
At heaviſt anſwer.

Both. 'Tis woft Nobly ſpoken.

Ale. Defend, and keepe your words.

Enter a Messenger.

Mef. My Noble Generall, Timon is dead,
Entomb'd upon the very hemme o'th'Sea,
And on his Graveſtone, this Inticulature which
With wax I brought away: whole ſoft Impreſſion
Interprets for my poore ignorance.

Alcibiades reades the Epitaph.

Heere lies a wretched Coarſe, of wretched Soule bereſt,
Seeknot my name: A Plague confume you, Catil's left:
Heere lye I Timon, who all living men aid hate,
Pafſe by, and curſe thy ſill, but stay not here thy gate.

These well expreſſe in thee thy latter ſpirits:
Though thou abhorrd'ft in vs our humane greifes,
Scornd'ſt our Braines flow, and thofe our droplets, which
From niggard Nature fall; yet Rich Conceit
Taught thee to make vtaſt Neptune weepe for aye
On thy low Grave: on faults forgiven. Dead
Is Noble Timon, of whole Memory
Heereafter 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 Drummes ſtrike.

Exeunt.

F I N I S.

129

THE TRAGEDIE OF
IVLIVS CÆSAR.

Ætus Primus. Scena Prima.

Enter Flavius, Murellus, and certaine Commoners
ouer the Stage.

Flavius.

Hence: home you idle Creatures, get you home:
Is this a Holiday? What, know you not
(Being Mechanicall) you ought not walke
Vpon a labouring day, without the figne
Of your Profession? Speake, what Trade art thou?

Car. Why Sir, a Carpenter.

Clnr. Where is thy Leather Apron, and thy Rule?
What doft thou with thy beſt Apparrell on?

You fir what Trade are you?

Cob. Truly Sir, in reſpect of a fine Workeman, I am
but as you would ſay, a Cobler.

Mur. But what Trade art thou? Anwer me directly.

Cob. A Trade Sir, that I hope I may uſe with, a ſafe
Conſience, which is indeed Sir, a Mender of bad ſoules.

Fla. What Trade thou knave? Thou naughty knave,
what Trade?

Cob. Nay I beſeech you Sir, be not out with me; yet
if you be out Sir I can mend you.

Mur. What meanſt thou by that? Mend mee, thou
ſawcy Fellow?

Cob. Why fir Cobble you.

Fla. Thou art a Cobler art thou?

Cob. Truly fir, all that I live by, is with the Aule : I
meddle with no Tradeinſans matters, nor womans mat-
ters; but withall I am indeed Sir, a Surgeon to old ſhooes;
when they are in great danger, I recover them. As pro-
per men as ever trod upon Neates Leather, have gone up-
on my handy worke.

Fla. But wherefore art not in thy Shop to day?

Why doſt thou leade the ſefe men about the ſtreetes ?

Cob. Truly fir, to weare out their ſhoes, to get my
ſelſe into more worke. But indeed fir we make Holy-
day to fee Caſar, and to reioyce in his Triumph.

Mur. Wherefore reioyce?

What Conqueſt brings he home?

What Tributaries follow him to Rome,

To grace in Captive bonds his Chariot Wheelſes.

You Blockes, you ſtones, you worſe then ſenſleſſe things:

O you hard hearts, you cruel men of Rome,

Knew you not Pompey many a time and oft?

Have you climb'd up to Walles and Battlements,
To Towres and Windows? Yea, to Chimney tops,

Your Infants in your Armes, and there have ſatce

The live-long day, with patient epeſtation,

To fee great Pompey paffe the ſtreetes of Rome:

And when you ſaw his Chariot but appeare,
Have you not made an Vniverſall ſhout,
That Tyber trembled underneath her bankes

To heare the replication of your ſounds,

Made in her Concave Shotes ?

And do you now put on your beſt attyre ?

And do you now call out a Holyday ?

And do you now ſtrew Flowers in his way,

That comes in Triumph over Pompey's blood?

Be gone,

Runne to your houſes, fall upon your knees,

Pray to the Gods to intermit the plague.

That needs muſt light on this Ingratitude.

Fla. Go, go, good Countrymen, and for this fault

Affembleall the poore men of your ſort ;

Draw them to Tyber bankes, and weepe your teares

Into the Channell, till the loweſt ſtreame

Do kiffe the moſt exalted Shores of all.

Exeunt all the Commoners.

See where their baſeſt mettle be not moun'd,

They vanilſh tongue-tyed in their guiltineſſe :

Go you downe that way towards the Capitoll,

This way will I : Difrobe the Images,

If you do finde them deckt with Ceremonies,

Mur. May we do ſo ?

You know it is the Feaſt of Lupercall,

Fla. It is no matter, let on Images

Be hung with the Caſars Trophees : Ile about,

And drive away the Vulgar from the ſtreetes ;

So do you too, where you perceive them thicke.

Theſe growing Feathers, pluckt from Caſars wing,

Will make him flye an ordinary pitch,

Who eſſe would ſoare above the view of men.

And keepe us all in ſervile ſearefulneſſe.

Exeunt.

Enter Caſar, Antony for the Courſe, Calphurnia, Portia, De-
cius, Cicero, Brutus, Caffius, Caska, a Soothſayer: af-
ter them Murellus and Flavius.

Caſ. Calphurnia.

Caſk. Peace ho, Caſar ſpeakes.

Caſ. Calphurnia.

Caſp. Heere my Lord.

Caſ. Stand you direſtly in Antonio's way,

When he doth run his courſe, Antonio.

Ant. Caſar, my Lord.

Caſ. Forget not in your ſpeed Antonie,

To touch Calphurnia : for our Elders ſay.

The

The Tragedy of Julius Caesar.

The Barren touched in this holy chace,
Shake off their sterrile curfe.
Ant. I shall remember,
When Cæsar fayes Do this; it is perform'd.
Caf. Set on, and leave no Ceremony out
Soothe. Cæsar.
Caf. Ha? Who calles?
Cask. Bid every noyse be still: peace yet againe.
Caf. Who is it in the preſſe, that calles on me?
I heare a Tongue ſtriller then all the Muficke
Cry, Cæsar: Speake, Cæsar is turn'd to heare.
Sooth. Beware the Ides of March,
Caf. What man is that?

Br. A Sooth-layer bids you beware the Ides of March
Caf. Set him before me, let me fee his face.
Caff. Fellow, come from the throng, looke upon Cæsar.
Caf. What layſt thou to me now? Speake once againe.
Sooth. Beware the Ides of March.
Caf. He is a Dreamer let us leave him: Paffe.
Semet. Exeunt. Manent Brut. & Caff.
Caff. Will you goe fee the order of the courſe?
Brut. Not I.
Caff. I pray you doc

Brut. I am not Gameſom : I do lacke ſome part
Of that quicke Spirit that is in Antony:
Let me not hinder Caffius your deſires;
Ile leave you.
Caff. Brutus, I doe obſerve you now of late:
I have not from your eyes, that gentlenſe
And ſhew of Love, as I was want to have :
You beare too ſubborne, and too ſtrange a hand
Over your Friends, that Loves you.
Bru. Caffius.

Be not deceiv'd: If I have veyll my looke,
I turne the trouble of my Countenance
Meerely upon my ſelfe. Vexed I am
Of late, with paffions of ſome difference,
Conceptions onely proper to my ſelfe,
Which give ſome ſoyle (perhaps) to my Behaviours :
But let not therefore my good Friends be greev'd
(Among which number Caffius be you one)
Nor conſtrue any further my negleft,
Then that poore Brutus with him ſelfe at warre,
Forgets the ſhewes of Love to other men.

Caff. Then Brutus, I have much miſtooke your paffion,
By meane whereof, this Breſt of mine hath buried
Thoughts of great value, worthy Cogitations.
Tell me good Brutus, Can you fee your face ?
Brutus. No Caffius:

For the eye fees not him ſelfe but by reflection,
By ſome other things.
Caffius. Tis iuſt,

And it is very much lamented Brutus,
That you have no ſuch Mirrors, as will turne
Your hidden worthinſe into your eye,
That you might fee your ſhadow:

I have heard,
Where many of the beſt refpect in Rome,
(Except immortal Cæsar) (speaking of Brutus,
And groaning vnderneath this Ages yoake,
Have wif'd, that Noble Brutus had his eyes.
Bra. Into what daungers would you
Leade me Caffius?

Leade me Caffius ?
That you would have me feeke into my ſelfe,
For that which is not in me ?

Caf. Therefore good Brutus, be prepar'd to heare:

And ſince you know you cannot fee your ſelfe
So well as by Reflection; I your Glaſſe,
Will modeſtly diſconuer to your ſelfe
That of your ſelfe, which you yet know not of.
And be not jealous on me, gentle Cæsar:
Where I a common Laugher, or did uſe
To ſtale with ordinary Oathes my love
To every new Proteſter: if you know,
That I do ſawne on men, and hugge them hard,
And after ſcandall them: or if you know,
That I proſſe me Banquetting
To all the Rout, then hold me dangerous.

Flourish, and Shout.

Bru. What meanes this Showing?
I do ſeare, the People chooſe Cæsar
For their King.

Caff. I do you ſeare it ?
Then muſt I thinke you would not have it ſo.
Bru. I would not Caffius, 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 generall good,
Set Honour in one eye, and Death the other,
And I will looke on both indifferently :
For let the Gods ſo ſpeed mee, as I love
The name of Honour, more then I ſeare death.

Caff. I know that vertue to be in you Brutus,
As well as I do know your outward favour,
Well, Honor is the ſubieſt of my Story :
I cannot tell, what you and other men
Thinke of this life : But my ſingle ſelfe,
I had aslieſe not be, as live to be
In awe of ſuch a Thing, as I my ſelfe.
I was ſborne 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 Rawe and Guſty day,
The troubled Tyber, chaſing with her Shores,
Cæsar faies to me, Dar it thou Caffius now
Leape in with me into this angry Flood,
And ſwim to yonder Point: Vpon the word,
Accounted as I was, I plunged in,
And bad him follow : ſo indeed he did.
The Torrent roar'd, and we did buffet it
With luſty Sinewes, throwing it afide,
And ſleeming it with hearts of Controverſie.
But ere we could arrive the Point propos'd,
Cæsar cride. Helpe me Caffius, or I ſinke.

I (as Eneas, our great anceſtor,
Did from the Flames of Troy, upon his shoulder
The old A-chiles beare) ſo, from the waves of Tyber
Did I the tyred Cæsar: And this Man,
Is now become a God, and Caffius is
A wretched Creature, and muſt bend his body,
If Cæsar careſſly but nod on him.
He had a Feaher when he was in Spaine,
And when the Fit was on him, I did marke
How he did ſhake: Tis true, this God did ſhake,
His Coward lipes did from their colour ſye,
And that ſame eye, whose bend doth awe the World,
Did ſlooke his Luſtref: I did heare him grone:
I, and that Tongue of his, that bad the Romans
Marke him, and write his Speeches in their Bookes,
Alas, it cried, Give me ſome drinke Titinatus,

As

The Tragedy of Julius Cæsar.

131

As a fickle Girlie: Ye Gods, it doth amaze me,
A man of such a feeble temper should
So get the flart of the Maieſticke world,
And bear the Palme alone.

Shout.

Flourish.

Bru. Another general ſhout ?
I doe beleeve, that theſe applaues are
For ſome new Honors, that are heap'd on Cæsar.

Cæsar. Why man, he doth beſtride the narrow world
Like a Coloſſus, and we petty men
Wakethe under his huge leggess, and peepe about
To finde our ſelves diſhonourable Graves
Men at ſometime, are Maſters of their Fates.
The fault (deere Brutus) is not in our Starres,
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 faire a Name:

Sound them, it doth become the mouth alwell.

Weigh them, it is as heavy: Coniure with'em,
Brutus will ſtart a Spirit as foone as Cæsar.

Now in the names of all the Gods at once,
Vpon what meateth doth this our Cæsar feede,
That he is growne to great? Age, thou art tham'd.

Rome, thou haſt loft the breed of Noble Bloods.

When went there by an Age, ſince the great Flood,
But it was fam'd with more then with one man?

When could they ſay (till now) that talk'd of Rome,
That her wide Walkes in compaſt but one man?

Now is it Rome indeed, and Roome enough
When there is in it but one onely man.

Olyou and I, have heard our Fathers ſay,
There was a Brutus once, that would have brook'd
Th'eterall Divell to keepe his State in Rome,
Aseſily as a King.

Bru. That you do love me, I am nothing ibleans :
What you would worke me to, I have ſome ayme :

How I have thought of this, and of theſe times
I haſt recount heere after. For this preſent.

I would not ſo (with love I might intreat you)

Be any further moov'd: What you have ſaid,

I will confider: what you have to ſay

I will with patience heare and finde a time

Both meet to heare, and anſwer ſuch high thinges.

Till then my Noble Friend, chew upon this :

Brutus had rather be a Villager,

Then to repute himſelfe a Sonne of Rome

Under theſe hard Conditions, as this time

Is like to lay upon us.

Cæſi. I am glad that my weake words
Have strucke but thus much ſhew of fire from Brutus.

Enter Cæsar and his Traine.

Bru. The Games are done,
And Cæsar is returning.

Cæſi. As they paffe by,
Plucke Caska by the Sleeve,

And he will (after his fowre ſafion) tell you
What hath proceeded worthy note to day.

Bru. I will do ſo : but looke you Cæſiues,
The angry fpot doth blow on Cæſar's brow,
And all the reſt looke like a chidden Traine;
Calphurnia's Cheeke is pale, and Cisero
Lookes with ſuch Ferret, and ſuch ſiery eyes
As we have ſeene him in the Capitoll

Being croſt in Conference, by ſome Senators,
Cæſi. Caska will tell us what the matter is.

Cæſi. Antonia.

Ant. Cæsar.

Cæſi. Let me have men about me that are fat,
Sleeke-headed men, and ſuch as fleece a nights :
Yond Cæſiues has a leane and hungry looke,
He thinkes too much: ſuch men are dangerous.

Ant. Feare him not Cæſar, he's not daungerous,
He is a Noble Roman, and well given.

Cæſi. Would he were fatter; But I feare him not:
Yet if my name were lyable to feare,

I do not know the man I should avoyd

ſo foone as that ſpare Cæſiues. He reades much,
He is a great obſerver, and he lookes

Quite through the Deedes of men. He loves no Playes,
As thou doſt Antony: he heares no Muſicke :

Seldome he ſmiles, and ſmilas in ſuch a ſort

As if he mock'd himſelfe, and ſcorn'd his ſpight

That could be mov'd to ſmile at any thing.

Such men as he, be never at hearts caſe,
Whiles they behold a greater then themſelſes,

And therefore are they very dangerous.

I rather tell thee what is to be fear'd,

Then what I feare: for always I am Cæſar.
Come on my right hand, for this care is deafe,

And tell me truely, what thou think'st of him.

Sænit.

Excent Cæsar and his Traine.

Cæſi. You pul'd me by the cloake, would you ſpeake
with me ?

Bru. I Caska, tell us what hath chanc'd to day
That Cæſar looks ſo ſad.

Cæſi. Why you were with him, were you not ?

Bru. I should not then aske Caska what had chanc'd.

Cæſi. Why there was a Crowne offer'd him ; and being
offer'd him, he put it by with the backe of his hand thus,
and th' en the people ſell a ſhouting.

Bru. What was the ſecond noy ſe for ?

Cæſi. Why for that too.

Cæſi. They ſhouted thrice : what was the laſt cry for ?

Cæſi. Why for that too.

Bru. Was the Crowne offer'd him thrice ?

Cæſi. I marry was't, and hee put it by thrice, every time
gentler then other; and at every putting by, mine honest
Neighbors ſhowtred.

Cæſi. Who offer'd him the Crowne?

Cæſi. Why Antony.

Bru. Tell us the manner of it, gentle Caska.

Caska. I can as well bee hang'd as tell the manner of it:
It were meere Fooliry, I did not marke it. I ſawe Mark
Antony offer him a Crowne, yet twas not a Crowne ney
ther, 'twas one of theſe Coronets : and as I told you,
hee put it by once : but for all that, to my thinking, he
would fairen have had it. Then he offered it to him againe:
then hee put it by againe : but to my thinking, he was
very loath to lay his fingers off it. And then he offered
it the third time : he put it the third time by, and fill
as he refus'd it, the rabblement howted, and clapp'd
their chopt hands, and threw uppe ther ſwety Night-
cappes, and uttered ſuch a deale of ſinking breath,
becaune Cæſar refus'd the Crowne, that it had (al-
moſt) choaked Cæſar : for hee ſwoonded, and fell
downe at it : And for mine owne part, I durſt not laugh,
for feare of opening my Lippes, and receiving the bad,
Ayre.

Cæſi.

AS

The Tragedy of Julius Cæsar.

Caffi. But oft I pray you : what, did Cæsar f wound ?

Cask. He fell downe in the Market-place, and foam'd at mouth, and was speechleffe.

Brut. 'Tis very like he hath the Falling fickeneſſe.

Caffi. No, Cæsar hath it not: but you, and I,

And honeſt Caska, we have the falling fickeneſſe.

Cask. I know not what you meane by that, but I am
fure Cæsar fell downe. If the tag-ragge people did not
clap him, and haffe him, according as he pleas'd, and dif-
ples'd them, as they uſe to doe the Players in the Thea-
tre, I am no true man.

Brut. What faide he, when he came unto himſelfe?

Cask. Mary, before he fell downe, when he perceiv'd
the common Heard was glad he refus'd the Crowne, he
pluckt me ope his Dovblet, and offer'd them his Throat
to cut : and I had beene a man of any Occupation, if I
would not have taken him at a word, I would I might
goe to Hell among the Rogues, and fo hee fell. When
he came to himſelfe againe, he faid, If hee had done, or
faid any thing amiffle, he defir'd their worſhips to thinke
it was his infirmity. Three or foure Wenches where I
flood, cryed, Alaffe good Soule, and forgave him with
all their hearts : But there's heed to be taken of them ; if
Cæsar had ſtabl'd their Mothers, they would have done no
leſſe.

Brut. And after that, he came thus ſad away.

Cask. I.

Caffi. Did Cicero ſay any thing ?

Cask. I, he ſpoke Greekes.

Caffi. To what effect?

Cask. Nay, and I tell you that, Ile ne're looke you
ith' face agaisè. But thofe that underſtood him, ſimil'd
at one another, and ſhooke their heads: but for mine
owne part, it was Greeke to me. I could tell you more
newes too : Murellus and Flavins, for pulling Scarffes
off Cæsar Imag's, are put to ſilence. Fare you well. There
was more Foolery yet, if I could remember it.

Caffi. Will you ſuppe with me to night, Caska?

Cask. No, I am promis'd forth.

Caffi. Will you Dine with me to morrow ?

Cask. I, if I be alive, and your mind hold, and your
Dinner worth the eating.

Caffi. Good, I will expect you.

Cask. Doe fo : farewell both.

Exit.

Bru. What a blunt fellow is this growne to be ?

He was quicke Mettle, when he went to Schoole.

Caffi. So is he now, in execution

Of any bold or Noble Enterprize,

How-ever he puts on this tardy forme :

This Rudeneſſe is a Sawce to his good Wit,

Which gives men ſlomacke to diſeſt his words

With better Appetites

Brut. And fo it is :

For this time I will leave you :

To morrow if you pleafe to ſpeake with me,

I will come home to you : or if you will,

Come home to me, and I will wait for you.

Caffi. I will doe fo: till then, thinke of the world.

Exit Brutus.

Well Brutus, thou art: Noble yet I fee,

Thy houourable Mettall may be wrought

From that it is diſpos'd, therefore tis meet,

That Noble mindeſes keepe ever with their likes:

For who ſo firme, that cannot be ſeduc'd ?

Cæsar doth beare me hard, but he loves Brutus.

If I were Brutus now, and he were Caffins,

He ſhould not humor me. I will this Night,

In feverall hands, in at his Windows throw,

As if they came from feverall Citizens,

Writtings, all tending to the great opinion

That Rome holds of his Name : wherein obſurely

Cæſars Ambition ſhall be glanced at.

And after this, let Cæsar ſeat him ſure,

For wee will ſhake him, or worſe dayes endure.

Exit.

Thunder, and Lightning. Enter Caska,
and Cicero.

Cic. Good even, Caska: brought you Cæsar home?

Whyare you breathleſſe, and why ſtare you fo ?

Cask. Are not you mov'd, when all the ſway of Earth

Shakes, like a thing ſunfirme ? O Cicero,

I have ſeene Tempeſts, when the ſcolding Winds

Have riu'd the knotty Oakes, and I have ſeene

Th'ambitious Ocean ſwell, and rage, and ſoame,

To be exalted with the threatening Clouds :

But never till Night, never till now,

Did I goe through a Tempeſt-dropping-fire.

Or eſſe the World, too ſawey with the Gods,

Incenses them to ſend deſtruction.

Cic. Why, ſaw you any thing more wonderfull?

Cask. A common ſlave, you know him well by ſight,

Held up his left hand, which did flame and burne

Like twenty Torches ioyn'd; and yet his hand,

Not ſenſible of fire, remain'd unſcorch'd.

Besides, I ha'n't ſince put up my Sword,

Againſt the Capitoll I met a Lyon,

Who glaz'd upon me, and went ſurely by,

Without annoying me. And there were drawne

Vpon a heape, a hundred gaffly Women,

Transformed with their ſeare, who ſwore, they ſaw

Men, all in fire, walee up and downe the freezes.

And yelſterday, the Bird of Night did ſit,

Evenat Noone day, upon the Market place,

Howtling, and freeking. When the ſte Prodigies

Doe ſo conioyntly meet, let not men ſay,

Theſe are their Reaſons they are Naturall :

For I belevee, they are portentous things

Vnto'the Clymate, that they point upon.

Cic. Indeed, it is a ſtrange diſpoſed time :

But men may couſtrey things after their ſashion,

Cleane from the purpofe of the things themselves.

Comes Cæsar to the Capitoll 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 Skie is not to walee in.

Cask. Farewell Cicero.

Exit Cicero.

Enter Caffins.

Caffi. Who's there?

Cask. A Romane.

Caffi. Caska, by your Voyce.

Cask. Your Eare is good.

Caffins, what Night is this?

Caffi. A very pleafing Night to honeſt men.

Cask. Who ever knew the Heavens menace ſo?

Caffi. Thofe that have knowne the Earth ſo full of
faults.

For

The Tragedy of Julius Cæsar.

133

For my part, I have walk'd about the streets,
Submitting me unto the perilous Night;

And thus unbraced, Cæsar, as you see,
And when the crostle blew Lightning seem'd to open

Have bar'd my Bofome to the Thunder-stone:
And when the crostle blew Lightning seem'd to open

The Breft of Heaven, I did prefent my selfe
Even in the ayme, and very flash of it. (uen's)

Cæsar. But wherefore did you so much tempt the Hea-
It is the part of men, to feare and tremble,
When the moft mighty Gods, by tokens fend
Such dreadfull Heraulds, to aftonish us.

Cæsar. You are dull, Cæsar:

And thofe sparkes of Life that should be in a Roman,
You doe want or elfe you ufe not.

You looke pale and gaze and put on feare,
And caft your ſelfe in wonder,

To fee the ſtrange impatience of the Heavens:
But if you would confider the true caufe,

Why all theſe Fires, why all theſe gliding Ghoſts,
Why Birds and Beaſts, from quality and kinde,

Why Old men, Fooles, and Children calculate,

Why all theſe things change from their Ordinance,

Their Natures, and pre-formed Faculties,

Tomonitrous quality, why you ſhall finde,
That Heaven hath infus'd them with theſe Spirits,

To make them Inſtruments of ſeare, and warning,
Vito ſome monſtrous State.

Now could I (Cæsar) name to thee a man,
Moft like this dreadfull Night,

That Thunders, Lightens, opens Graves, and teares,
As doth the Lyon in the Capitoll:

A man no mightier then thy ſelfe, or me,

In ſeperſional action; yet prodigious growne,

And ſcarefull, as theſer ſtrange eruptions are.

Cæsar. Tis Cæsar that you meane:

Is it not, Cæſtus?

Cæsar. Let it be who it is: for Romans now

Have Thewes, and Limbes, like to their Anceſtors;

But woe the while, our Fathers mindes are dead,

And weare govern'd with our Mothers ſpirits,
Our yoake, and ſufferance, thew us Womanith.

Cæsar. Indeed, they ſay, the Senators to morrow
Meane to eſtablish Cæsar as a King:

And he ſhall weare his Crowne by Sea, and Land,

In every place, ſave here in Italy.

Cæsar. I know where I will weare this Dagger then;
Cuffins from Bondage will deliver Cuffins:

Therein, yee Gods, you make the weake moſt, ſtrong;
Therein, yee Gods, you Tyrants doe defeat.

Nor Stony Tower, nor Walls of beaten Braſſe,

Nor ayre-leſſe Dungeon, nor ſtrong Linkes of Iron,

Can be retentive to the ſtrength of ſpirits.

But Life being weary of theſe worldly Barres,
Never lags power to diſmiffe it ſelſe.

If I know this, know all the World beſides,

That part of Tyranny that I doe beare,
I can haſe off at pleafure. Thunder fill.

Cæsar. So can I:

So every Bond-man in his owne hand beares
The power to cancell his Captivity.

Cæsar. 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 Sheepe:

He were no Lyon, were not Romans Hindes.

Thofe that with haſte will make a mighty fire,

Begin it with weake Strawes. What traſh is Rome?

What Rubbifh, and what Offall ? when it ſerves
For the baſe matter, to illuminate

So vile a thing as Cæsar. But oh Griefe,

Where haſt thou led me? (perhaps) ſpeake this

Before a willing Bond-man: then I know

My anſwere muſt be made. But I am arm'd,

And dangers are to me indiſſerent.

Cæsar. You ſpeake to Caska, and to ſuch a man,
That is no ſlearing Tell-tale, Hold, my Hand:

Be factious for reddrefle of all theſe Griefes,

And I will ſet this foot of mine as farre,

As who goes fartheſt.

Cæsar. There's a Bargaine made.

Now know you, Cæsar, I have mov'd already

Some certaine of the Nobleft minded Romans

To under-go, with me, an Enterprize,

Of Honourable dangerous conſequnce;

And I doe know by this, they ſay for me

In *Pompeyes Porch*: for now this ſcarefull Night,

There is no ſtirre, or walking in the streetes;

And the Complexion of the Element

Is Favors, ike the Worke we have in hand,

Moſt bloody, ſiery, and moſt terrible.

### Enter Cinna.

Caska. Stand cloſe a while, for heere comes one in
haſte.

Cæsar. Tis Cinna, I doe know him by his Gate,
He is a friend. Cinna, where haſte you?

Cinna. To finde out you: Who's that, Metellus
Cymber?

Cæsar. No, it is Caska, one incorporate

To our Attempts. Am I not ſay'd for, Cinna?

Cin. I am glad on't.

What a ſcarefull Night?

There's two or three of us have ſeene ſtrange ſights.

Cæsar. Am I not ſay'd for? tell me.

Cin. Yes, you are, O Cæſtus,

If you could but winne the Noble Brutus

To our party

Cæsar. Be you content. Good Cinna take this Paper,
And looke youlayl it in the Pretors Chayre,

Where Brutus may but finde it; and throw this

In at his Window; fet this up with Waxe

Vpon old Brutus Statue: all this done,

Repayre to *Pompeyes Porch*, where you ſhall finde us.

Is Decius Brutus and Trebonius there?

Cin. All, but Metellus Cymber, and hee's gone
To ſecke you at your houſe. Well, I will hie,
And ſo beſtow theſe Papers as you bad me.

Cæsar. That done, repayre to *Pompeyes* Theater.
Exit Cinna.

Come Cæsar, you and I will yet, ere day,

See Brutus at his houſe: three parts of him

Is ours already, and the man entire

Vpon the next encounter, yeelds him ours.

Cask, O, he fits high in all the Peoples hearts:

And that which would appeare Offence in vs,

His Countenance, like richeſt Alchymic,

Will change to Vertue, and to Worthineſſe.

Cæsar. Him, and his worth, and our great need of him,
You have right well conceited: let us goe,

For it is after Mid-night, and ere day,

We will awake him, and be ſure of him.

Exeunt.

mm

Achil.

["134", "The Tragedie of Julius Cæsar.", "Actus Secundus.", "Enter Brutus in his Orchard.", "Bru. What Lucius, hoe?", "I cannot, by the progreffe of the Starres,\nGive gueffe how neere to day--Lueius, I fay?\nI would it were my fault to fleepe fo foundly.\nWhen Lucius, when? awake, I fay: what Lucius?", "Enter Lucius.", "Luc. Call'd you, my Lord?", "Bru. Get me a Taper in my Study, Lucius:\nWhen it is lighted, come and call me here.", "Luc. I will, my Lord.", "Exit.", "Bru. It muft be by his death: and for my part,\nI know no perfonall caufe, to fpurne at him,\nBut for the generall. He would be crown'd:\nHow that might change his nature, there's the queftion?", "How that might change his nature, there's the queftion?\nIt is the bright day, that brings forth the Adder,\nAnd that craves wary walking: Crowne him that,\nAnd then I graunt we put a Sting in him,\nThat at his will he may doe danger with.", "Th'abufe of Greatneſſe, is, when it disjoynes\nRemorſe from Power: And to ſpeake truth of Cæsar,\nI have not knowne, when his Aſfections ſway'd\nMore then his Reaſon. But tis a common proofe,\nThat Lowlyneſſe is young Ambitions Ladder,", "Where to the Climber upward turnes his Faces.\nBut when he once attaines the upmoſt Round,\nHethen unto the Ladder turnes his Backe.\nLookes in the Clouds, ſcorning the bafe degrees", "Lookes in the Clouds, ſcorning the bafe degrees\nBy which he did aſcend: to Cæsar may;\nThen left he may, prevent. And ſince the Quarrell\nWill beare no colour, for the thing he is,", "A fashion it thus: that what he is, augmented,\nWould runne to theſe, and theſe extremities:\nAnd therefore thinke him as a Serpents egge,", "Which: hatch'd, would as his kinde grow miſchievous;\nAnd kill him in the ſhell.", "Enter Lucius.", "Luc. The Taper burneth in your Cloſer, Sir:", "Searching the Window for a Flint, I found\nThis Paper, thus feal'd up, and I am ſure\nIt did not lye there when I went to Bed.", "Gives him the Letter.", "Bru. Get you to Bed againe, it is not day:", "Is not to morrow (Boy) the firſt of March?", "Luc. I know not, Sir.", "Bru. Looke in the Calender, and bring me word.", "Luc. I will, Sir.", "Exit.", "Bru. The exhalations, whizzing in the ayr,\nGive ſo much light, that I may reade by them.", "Opens the Letter, and reades.", "Brutus thow ſleep ſt; awake, and fees by ſelfe.", "Shall Rome, &c. ſpeak, ſtrike, ſredreſſe.", "Brutus, phon ſleep ſt: awake.", "Such inſtigations have beene often dropt,\nWhere I have tooke them up:\nShall Rome &c. Thus muſt I piete it out:", "Shall Rome ſtand under one mans awe? What Rome?", "My Anceſtors did from the ſtreetes of Rome", "The Tarquin drive, when he was call'd a King.", "Speake, ſtrike, ſredreſſe. Am I entreated", "To ſpeake, and ſtrike? O Rome, I make the promife,\nIf the redreſſe will follow, thou receiv'dt\nThy full Petition at the hand of Brusus.", "Enter Lucius.", "Luc. Sir, March is waſted fifteenne dayes.", "Knock within.", "Bru. Tis good. Go to the Gate, Iome body knocks:\nSince Caffius firſt did whet me againſt Cæsar,\nI have not ſlept.", "Betweene the acting of a dreadfull thing,\nAnd the firſt motion, all the Interim is", "Like a Phantasm, or a hideous Dreame:\nThe Genius, and the mortall Inſtruments", "Are then in councell; and the ſtate of man,\nLiketo a little Kingdome, ſuffers then", "The nature of an Inſurrection.", "Enter Lucius.", "Luc. Sir, this your Brother Caffius at the Doore,\nWho doth deſire to fee you.", "Bru. Is he alone?", "Luc. No, Sir, there are moe with him.", "Bru. Doe you know them?", "Luc. No, Sir, their Hats are pluckt about their Eares,\nAnd halfe their Faces buried in their Cloathes,", "That by no meanes I may diſcover them,", "By any marke of favour.", "Bru. Let'em enter:", "They are the Faction. O Conſpiracie,\nSham'ſt thou to ſhow thy dang'rous Brow by Night,", "When evill are moſt free? O then, by day\nWhere wilt thou finde a Caverne darke enough,", "To maske thy monſtrous Viſage? Seeke none Conſpiracie,\nHide it in Smiles, and Affability.", "For if thou path, thy native ſemblance on,\nNot Erebus it ſelie were dimme enough,", "To hide thee from prevention.", "Enter the Conſpirators, Caffius, Caska, Decius,\nCinna, Metellus, and Trebounius.", "Caf. I thinke we are too bold upon your Reſt:", "Good morrow Brutus, doe we trouble you?", "Bru. I have beene up this howre, awake all Night:\nKnow I the ſeſe men, that come along with you?", "Caf. Yes, every man of them; and no man here\nBut honors you; and every one doth wifh,\nYou had but that opinion of your ſelfe,\nWhich every Noble Roman beares 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\nCimber.", "Bru. They are all welcome.", "What watchfull Cares doe interpoſe them ſelves", "Betwixt your Eyes, and Night?", "Caf. Shall I intreata word?", "They whiſper.", "Dec. Here lyes the Eaſt: doth not the Day breake heere?", "Cask. No.", "Cin. O pardon, Sir, it doth; and yon grey Lines,\nThat fret the Clouds, are Mefſengers of Day.", "Cask. You ſhall confefſe, that you are both deceiv'd:\nHeere, as I point my Sword, the Sunne arifes,\nWhich is a great way growing on the South,", "Weigh-", "Weigh-", "Some t", "Hefirſt", "Stands", "Brae.", "The ſu", "If the", "And e", "So let", "Till ea", "(As I", "To kin", "The m", "What", "Topri", "The ſu", "And w", "Then ſo", "That t", "Sweare", "Old for", "That w", "Such a", "The e", "Nor th", "Tothi", "Did ne", "That e", "Is guil", "If he", "Of any", "Caf.", {"bbox": [1112, 854, 1148, 876], "category": "Text", "text

["The Tragedy of Julius Caesar.", "135", "Weighing the youthfull Season of the yeare.\nSome two moneths hence,up higher toward the North\nHe first preſents his fire,and the high Eaſt\nStands as the Capitoll,directly here.", "Bru. Give me your hands all over,one by one.\nCaf. And let us ſware our Reſolution.", "Bru. No,not an Oath;if not the Face of men,\nThe ſufferance of our Soules,the times Abufe;", "If theſe be Motives weake,breake off betimes,\nAnd every man hence,to his idle bed:\nSo let high-fi ghted-Tyranny range on,\nTill each man drop by Lottery. But if theſe", "(As I am ſure they do) beare fire enough\nTo kindle Cowards,and to ſtle with valour\nThe melting Spirits of women; Then Countrymen,\nWhat neede we any ſpurre, but our owne cauſe\nTopricke us to redreſſe? What other Bond,\nThen ſecreſt Romans, that have ſpokethe word,\nAnd will not palter? And what other Oath,\nThen Honeſtly to Honeſtly ingaſ'd,", "That this ſhall be,or we will fall for it.", "To kindle Cowards, and to ſtle with valour\nWhat neede we any ſpurre, but our owne cauſe\nTopricke us to redreſſe? What other Bond,\nThen ſecreſt Romans, that have ſpokethe word,\nAnd will not palter? And what other Oath,\nThen Honeſtly to Honeſtly ingaſ'd,", "That this ſhall be,or we will fall for it.", "To kindle Cowards, and to ſtle with valour\nWhat neede we any ſpurre, but our owne cauſe\nTopricke us to redreſſe? What other Bond,\nThen ſecreſt Romans, that have ſpokethe word,\nAnd will not palter? And what other Oath,\nThen Honeſtly to Honeſtly ingaſ'd,", "That this ſhall be,or we will fall for it.", "To kindle Cowards, and to ſtle with valour\nWhat neede we any ſpurre, but our owne cauſe\nTopricke us to redreſſe? What other Bond,\nThen ſecreſt Romans, that have ſpokethe word,\nAnd will not palter? And what other Oath,\nThen Honeſtly to Honeſtly ingaſ'd,", "That this ſhall be,or we will fall for it.", "To kindle Cowards, and to ſtle with valour\nWhat neede we any ſpurre, but our owne cauſe\nTopricke us to redreſſe? What other Bond,\nThen ſecreſt Romans, that have ſpokethe word,\nAnd will not palter? And what other Oath,\nThen Honeſtly to Honeſtly ingaſ'd,", "That this ſhall be,or we will fall for it.", "To kindle Cowards, and to ſtle with valour\nWhat neede we any ſpurre, but our owne cauſe\nTopricke us to redreſſe? What other Bond,\nThen ſecreſt Romans, that have ſpokethe word,\nAnd will not palter? And what other Oath,\nThen Honeſtly to Honeſtly ingaſ'd,", "That this ſhall be,or we will fall for it.", "To kindle Cowards, and to ſtle with valour\nWhat neede we any ſpurre, but our owne cauſe\nTopricke us to redreſſe? What other Bond,\nThen ſecreſt Romans, that have ſpokethe word,\nAnd will not palter? And what other Oath,\nThen Honeſtly to Honeſtly ingaſ'd,", "That this ſhall be,or we will fall for it.", "To kindle Cowards, and to ſtle with valour\nWhat neede we any ſpurre, but our owne cauſe\nTopricke us to redreſſe? What other Bond,\nThen ſecreſt Romans, that have ſpokethe word,\nAnd will not palter? And what other Oath,\nThen Honeſtly to Honeſtly ingaſ'd,", "That this ſhall be,or we will fall for it.", "To kindle Cowards, and to ſtle with valour\nWhat neede we any ſpurre, but our owne cauſe\nTopricke us to redreſſe? What other Bond,\nThen ſecreſt Romans, that have ſpokethe word,\nAnd will not palter? And what other Oath,\nThen Honeſtly to Honeſtly ingaſ'd,", "That this ſhall be,or we will fall for it.", "To kindle Cowards, and to ſtle with valour\nWhat neede we any ſpurre, but our owne cauſe\nTopricke us to redreſſe? What other Bond,\nThen ſecreſt Romans, that have ſpokethe word,\nAnd will not palter? And what other Oath,\nThen Honeſtly to Honeſtly ingaſ'd,", "That this ſhall be,or we will fall for it.", "To kindle Cowards, and to ſtle with valour\nWhat neede we any ſpurre, but our owne cauſe\nTopricke us to redreſſe? What other Bond,\nThen ſecreſt Romans, that have ſpokethe word,\nAnd will not palter? And what other Oath,\nThen Honeſtly to Honeſtly ingaſ'd,", "That this ſhall be,or we will fall for it.", "To kindle Cowards, and to ſtle with valour\nWhat neede we any ſpurre, but our owne cauſe\nTopricke us to redreſſe? What other Bond,\nThen ſecreſt Romans, that have ſpokethe word,\nAnd will not palter? And what other Oath,\nThen Honeſtly to Honeſtly ingaſ'd,", "That this ſhall be,or we will fall for it.", "To kindle Cowards, and to ſtle with valour\nWhat neede we any ſpurre, but our owne cauſe\nTopricke us to redreſſe? What other Bond,\nThen ſecreſt Romans, that have ſpokethe word,\nAnd will not palter? And what other Oath,\nThen Honeſtly to Honeſtly ingaſ'd,", "That this ſhall be,or we will fall for it.", "To kindle Cowards, and to ſtle with valour\nWhat neede we any ſpurre, but our owne cauſe\nTopricke us to redreſſe? What other Bond,\nThen ſecreſt Romans, that have ſpokethe word,\nAnd will not palter? And what other Oath,\nThen Honeſtly to Honeſtly ingaſ'd,", "That this ſhall be,or we will fall for it.", "To kindle Cowards, and to ſtle with valour\nWhat neede we any ſpurre, but our owne cauſe\nTopricke us to redreſſe? What other Bond,\nThen ſecreſt Romans, that have ſpokethe word,\nAnd will not palter? And what other Oath,\nThen Honeſtly to Honeſtly ingaſ'd,", "That this ſhall be,or we will fall for it.", "To kindle Cowards, and to ſtle with valour\nWhat neede we any ſpurre, but our owne cauſe\nTopricke us to redreſſe? What other Bond,\nThen ſecreſt Romans, that have ſpokethe word,\nAnd will not palter? And what other Oath,\nThen Honeſtly to Honeſtly ingaſ'd,", "That this ſhall be,or we will fall for it.", "To kindle Cowards, and to ſtle with valour\nWhat neede we any ſpurre, but our owne cauſe\nTopricke us to redreſſe? What other Bond,\nThen ſecreſt Romans, that have ſpokethe word,\nAnd will not palter? And what other Oath,\nThen Honeſtly to Honeſtly ingaſ'd,", "That this ſhall be,or we will fall for it.", "To kindle Cowards, and to ſtle with valour\nWhat neede we any ſpurre, but our owne cauſe\nTopricke us to redreſſe? What other Bond,\nThen ſecreſt Romans, that have ſpokethe word,\nAnd will not palter? And what other Oath,\nThen Honeſtly to Honeſtly ingaſ'd,", "That this ſhall be,or we will fall for it.", "Let's kill him Boldly,but not Wrathfully:", "Let's carve him,as a Difſt fit for the Gods,\nNot hew him as a Carkaſſe fit for Hounds;", "And let our Hearts,as ſubtle Maifters do,", "Stirre up their Servants to an aſte of Rage,\nAnd after ſeeme to chide,em. This ſhall make\nOur purpofe Nefſeſary, and not Envious.", "Which ſo appearing to the common eyes,\nWe ſhall be call'd Purgers not Murderers.", "And for Marke Antony,thine not of him:", "For he can do no more then Caſars Arme,", "When Caſars head is off.", "Caſ. Yet I feare him,", "For in the ingrafted love he bearesto Caſar.", "Bru. Alas,good Caſiſins,do not thinke of him:\nIf he love Caſar,all that he can do", "Is to himſelfe,take thought,and dye for Caſar.", "And that were much he ſhould:for he is given", "To ſports,to wildenſeſſe,and much company.", "Treb. There is no ſeare in him;let him not dye,", "For he will live,and laugh at this heereafter.", "Clocke strikes.", "Bru. Peace,count the Clocke.", "Caſ. The Clocke hath ſtricken three.", "Treb. Tis time to part.", "Caſ. But it is doubtfull yet,", "Whether Caſar will come forth to day,or no:", "For he is Superſtitious growne of late,", "Quite from the maine Opinion he held once,", "Of Fantafie,of Dreames,and Ceremonies:", "It may be,thefe apparant Prodigies,", "The unaecuſtom'd Teror of this night,", "And the perſwafion of his Augurers,", "May hold him from the Capitoll to day.", "Dec. Never ſeare that:If he be ſo reſolv'd,", "I can ore-ſway him:for he loves to heare,", "That Vnicornes may be betray'd with Trees,", "And Beares with Glaſſes,Elephants with Holes,", "Lyons with Toiles, and men with Flatterers.", "But,when I tell him,he hates Flatterers,", "He fayes,he does;being then moſt flattered.", "Let me worke:", "For I can give his humour the true bent;", "And I will bring him to the Capitoll.", "Caſ. Nay,we will alloſ us,be there to fetch him.", "Bru. By the eight houre,ist that the uttermoſt?", "Caſ. Be that the uttermoſt,and ſaile not then.", "Met. Cains Ligarius doth beare Caſar hatred,", "Who rated him for ſpeaking well of Pomper,", "I wonder none of you have thought of him.", {"bbox": [445, 1

The Tragedie of Julius Caesar.

136

Which buſe care drawes, in the brains of men;
Therefore thou ſleep'it ſo found.

Enter Portia.

Por. Brutus, my Lord.

Bru. Portia, What meane you? wherfore rife you now?
It is not for your health, thus to commit
Your weake condition, to the raw cold morning.

Por. Nor for yours neither. Y'have ungently Brutus
Stole from my bed : and yefternight at Supper
You fodainly aroſe, and walk'd about,
Mufing, and fighting, with your armes a-croſe :
And when I ask'd you what the matter was,
You ſtar'd upon me, with ungentle looks.
I urg'd you further, then you scratch'd your head,
And too impatiently ſlampt with your foote :
Yet I infiſted, yet you anſwer'd not,
But with an angry waſer of your hand
Gave ſigne for me to leave you : So I did,
Fearing to ſtrengthen that impatience
Which ſeem'd too much inkiſtled; and withall,
Hoping it was but an effect of Humor,
Which ſometime hath his houre with every man.
It will not let you eate, nor talke, nor ſleepe;
And could it worke ſo much upon your ſhape,
As it hath much prevail'd on your Condition,
I hould not know you Brutus. Deare my Lord,
Make me acquainted with your cauſe of greeſe,
Bru. I am no: well in health, and that is all.
Por. Brutus is wife, and were he not in health,
He would embrace the meaneſes to come by it.
Bru. Why fo I do : good Portia go to bed.
Por. Is Brutus ſicke? And is it Phyſicall
To walke unbraced, and ſucke up the humors
Of the darke Morning? What, is Brutus ſicke ?
And will he ſleate out of his wholeſome bed
To dare the vile contagion of the Night ?
And tempt the Rhewmy, and unpurged Ayre,
To adde unto his ſiekneſſe ? No my Brutus,
You have ſome ſicke Offence within your minde,
Which by the Right and Vertue of my place
I ought to know of : And upon my knees,
I charme you, by my once commended Beauty,
By all your vowes of Love, and that great Vow
Which did incorporate and make us one,
That you unfold to me, your ſelfe; your halfe;
Why you are heavy, and what men to night
Have had reſort to you: for heere have beene
Some ſixe or ſeven, who did hide their faces
Even from darkneſſe.

Bru. Kneele not gentle Portia.

Por. I should not neede, if you were gentle Brutus.
Within the Bond of Marriage, tell me Brutus,
Is it excepted, I should know no Secrets
That appertaine to you? Am I your ſelfe,
But as it were in ſort, or limitation ?
To keepe with you at Meales, comfort your Bed,
And talke to you ſometimes ? Dwell I but in the Suburbs
Of your good pleafure ? If it be no more,
Portia is Brutus Harlot, not his Wife.

Bru. You are my true and honourable Wife,
As deere to me, as are the ruddy droppes
That viſit my ſad heart.

Por. If this were true, then should I know this ſecret.
I graunt I am a Woman; but withall,
A Woman that Lord Brutus tooke to Wife:
I graunt I am a Woman; but withall,

A Woman well reputed : Cato's Daughter:
Thinke you, I am no ſtronger then my Sex
Being to Father'd, and to Husbanded ?
Tell me your Counſels, I will not diſcloſe 'em :
I have made ſtrong proofe of my Conſtancie,
Giving my ſelfe a voluntary wound
Heere, in the Thigh: Can I beare that with patience,
And not my Husbands Secrets ?

Bru. O ye Gods !

Render me worthy of this Noble Wife.
Knock.
Hearke, hearke, one knockes: Portia go in a while,
And by and by thy boſome ſhall partake
The ſecrets of my Heart.

All my engagements, I will conſtrue to thee,
All the Chaſterity of my ſad browes :
Leave me with haſt,
Exit Portia.

Enter Lucius and Ligarius.

Lucius, who's that knockes.

Luc. Heere is a ſicke man that would ſpeake with you,

Bru. Caius Ligarius, that Metellus ſpake of,
Boy, ſtand aſide. Caius Ligarius, how ?

Cai. Vouchſaſe good morrow from a feeble tongue.

Bru. O what a time have you chofe out brave Caius
To weare a Kerchieſe ? Would you were not ſicke.

Cai. I am not ſicke, if Brutus have in hand

Any exploit worthy the name of Honor.

Bru. Such an exploit have I in hand Ligarius,
Had you a healthfull care to heare of it.

Cai. By all the Gods that Romans bow before,
I heere diſcard my ſiekneſſe. Soule of Rome,
Brave Sonne, deriv'd from Honourable Loines,
Thou like an Exorcift, haſt conjur'd up
My mortified Spirit. Now bid me runne,
And I will ſtrive with things impoffible,
Yea get the better of them. What's to do ?
Bru. A peecce of worke,

That will make ſicke men whole.

Cai. But are not ſome whole, that we muſt make ſicke?

Bru. That muſt we alſo. What it is my Caius,
I hall unfold to thee, as we are going,
To whom it muſt be done.

Cai. Set on your foote,
And with a heart new-ſir'd, I follow you,
To do I know not what : but it ſuſſiceth
That Brutus leads me on.

Bru. Follow me then.

Thunder.

Exeunt.

Thunder and Lightning.
Enter Inlius Caſar in his Nighſ-gown.

Caſar. Nor Heaven, nor Earth,
Have beene at peace to night :
Thrice hath Calphurnia, in her ſleepe cryed on;
Helpe, ho : They murther Caſar. Who's within?

Enter a Servant.

Ser. My Lord.

Caſ. Go bid the Priefts do prefent Sacrifice,
And bring me their opinions of Succeſſe.

Ser. I will my Lord.

Enter Calphurnia.

Caſ. What meane you Caſar? Think you to walke forth?
You ſhal not ſtirre out of your houſe to day,

Caſ. Caſar ſhall forth; the things that threaten'd me,
Ne're look'd but on my backe : When they ſhall ſee
The face of Caſar, they are vaniſhed.

Calp.

["138", "The Tragedie of Julius Cæsar.", "neere Caska, have an eye to Cynna, truſt not Trebonius, marke\nwell Matellus Cymber, Decius Brutus loves thee not: Then\nhaſt wrong'd Caius Ligarius. There is but one minde in all\nthe ſa men, and it is bent against Cæsar: If thou beſe not Immo-\nrall, looke about you: Security giues way to Conſpiracy. The\nmighty Gods defend thee.", "Thy Lover Artemidorus.", "Heere will I ſtand, till Cæsar paffe along,", "And as a Sutor will I give him this:", "My heart laments, that Vertue cannot live\nOut of the teeth of Emulation.", "If thou reade this, O Cæsar, thou may eſt line;\nIf not, the Fates with Traitors do contrive.", "Enter Portia and Lucius.", "Por. I prythe Boy, run to the Senate-houſe,\nStay not to anſwer me, but get thee gone.", "Why doeſt thou ſlay?", "Luc. To know my errand Madam.", "Por. I would have had thee there and heere agen", "Ere I can tell thee what thou ſhould'ſt do there:", "O Conſtancy, be ſtrong upon my ſide,", "Set a huge Mountaine 'tweene my Heart and Tongue:", "I have a mans minde, but a womans might:", "How hard it is for women to keepe counſell.", "Art thou heere yet?", "Luc. Madam, what ſhould I do?", "Run to the Capitoll, and nothing eſſe?", "And so returne to you, and nothing eſſe?", "Por. Yes, bring me word Boy, if thy Lord looke well,", "For he went ſickly forth; and take good note", "What Cæsar doth, what Sutors preſſe to him.", "Hearke Boy, what noife is that?", "Luc. I heare none Madam.", "Pry the Boy liften well:", "I heard a buſsling Rumor like a Fray,", "And the windie brings it from the Capitoll.", "Luc. Sooth Madam, I heare nothing.", "Enter the Soothsayer.", "Por. Come hither Fellow, which way haſt thou bin?", "Sooth. At mine owne houſe, good Lady.", "Por. What is't a clocke?", "Sooth. About the ninth houre Lady.", "Por. Is Cæsar yet gone to the Capitoll?", "Sooth. Madam not yet, I go to take my ſtand,", "To fee him paffe on to the Capitoll.", "Por. Thou haſt ſome ſuite to Cæsar, haſt thou not?", "Sooth. That I have Lady, if it will pleaſe Cæsar", "To be ſo good to Cæsar, as to heare me:", "I ſhall beſech him to beſtriend himſelfe.", "Por. Why know'ſt thou any harme's intended to-\nwards him?", "Sooib. None that I know will be,", "Much that I ſeare may chance:", "Good morrow to you heere the ſtreet is narrow:", "The throng that followes Cæsar at the heeles,", "Of Senators, of Praſtors, common Sutors,", "Will crowd a feeble man (almoſt) to death:", "He get me to a place more voyd, and there", "Speake to great Cæsar as he comes along.", "Por. I muſt go in:", "Aye me! How weake a thing", "The heart of woman is? O Brutus,", "The Heavens ſpeede thee in thine enterprize.", "Sure the Boy heard me: Brutus hath a ſuite", "That Cæsar will not grant. O, I grow faint:", "Run Lucius, and commend me to my Lord,", "Say I am merry; Come to me againe,", "And bring me word what he doth ſay to thee.", "## Actus Tertius.", "Flourish.", "Enter Cæsar, Brutius, Caffius, Caska, Decius, Metellus, Tre-\nbonius, Cynna, Antony, Lepidus, Artemidorus, Popi-\nlus, and the Soothsayer.", "Cæs. The Ides of March are come.", "Sooib. I Cæsar, but not gone.", "Art. Haile Cæsar: Read this Scedule.", "Dec. Trebonius doth defire you to ore-read", "(At your beſiſure) this his humble ſuite.", "Art. O Cæsar, reade me firſt: for mine's a ſuite", "That touches Cæsar neerer. Read it great Cæsar.", "Cæs. What touches us our ſelfe, ſhall be laſt ſerv'd.", "Art. Delay not Cæsar, read it instantly.", "Cæs. What, is the fellow mad?", "Pub. Sirra, give place.", "Cæs. What, urge you your Petitions in the ſtreet?", "Come to the Capitoll.", "Pop. I with your enterprize to day may thrive,", "Cæs. What enterprize Popilius?", "Pop. Fare you well,", "Bru. What faid Popilius Lena?", "Cæs. He wifht to day our enterprize might thrive:", "I fee our purpofe is diſcovered.", "Bru. Looke how he makes to Cæsar: marke him.", "Cæs. Caska be fodaine, for we ſeare prevention.", "Brutus what ſhall be done? If this be knowne,", "Caffius or Cæsar never ſhall turne backe,", "For I will ſlay my ſelfe.", "Bru. Caffius be confiant:", "Popilius Lena (speakes) not of our purpofes,", "For looke he ſmiles, and Cæsar doth not change.", "Cæs. Trebonius knowes his time: for look you Brutus", "He drawes Marke Antony out of the way.", "Dec. Where is Metellus Cimber, let him go,", "And prefentely preferre his ſuite to Cæsar.", "Bru. He is addreſſed: preſſe neere, and ſecond him.", "Cin. Caska, you are the firſt that reares your hand.", "Cæs. Are we all ready? What is now amiffle,", "That Cæsar and his Senate muſt redreſſic?", "Matel. Moſt high, moſt mighty, and moſt puifant Cæsar", "Matellus Cimber throwes before thy Scate", "An humble heart.", "Cæs. I muſt prevent thee Cymber:", "Theſe couchings, and theſe lowly courſtries", "Might fire the blood of ordinary men,", "And turne pre-Ordinance, and firſt Decree,", "Into the lane of Children. Be not fond.", "To thinke that Cæsar beares ſuch Rebell blood", "That will be thaw'd from the true quality", "With that which melteth Fooles, I meane ſweet words,", "Low-crooked, curſies, and bafe Spaniell fawning:", "Thy Brother by decree is banifhed:", "If thou doſt bend, and pray, and fawne for him,", "If purne thee like a Curre out of my way:", "Know, Cæsar doth not wrong, nor without cauſe", "Will he be ſatisfied.", {"bbox": [70

The Tragedy of Julius Cæsar.

139

To found more sweetly in great Cæsars care,
For the repealing of my banish'd Brother?

Bri. I killke thy hand, but not in flattery Cæsar:
Defiring thee, that Publius Cimber may
Have an immediate freedom of repeale.

Cæs. What Brutus?

Cæs. Pardon Cæsar: Cæsar pardon:

As love as to thy freebeoth Cæffus fall,
To begge infranchifement for Publius Cimber.

Cæs. I could be well mov'd, if I were as you,

If I could pray to moove, Prayers would moove me:
But I am conſtant as the Northern Starre,
Of whose true fixt, and refing quality,
There is no fellow in the Firmament.

The Skies are painted with unnumbred ſparkes,
They are all Fire, and every one doth ſhine:

But, there's but one in all doth hold his place.
So, in the World; Tis furniſh'd well with Men,
And Men are Fleth and Blood, and apprehenſive;
Yet in the number, I do know but One
That unaſſayleable holds on his Ranke,
Vnſhak'd of motion; and that I am he,
Let me a little ſhew it, even in this:

That I was conſtant Cymber, ſhould be baniſh'd,
And conſant do remaine to keepe him ſo.

Cm. O Cæsar.

Cæs. Hence: Wilt thou lift up Olympus?

Dec. Great Cæsar.

Cæs. Do not Brutus bootleſſe kneele?

Cuk. Speake hands for me.

They ſtab Cæsar.

Cæf. Et Tu Brutæ? Then fall Cæsar.

Cm. Liberty, Freedome; Tyranny is dead,

Run hence, proclaime, cry it about the Streets.
Cæs. Some to the common Pulpits, and cry out

Liberty, Freedome, and Enfrachifement.

Bri. People and Senators, be not affrighted:

Fly not, ſtand ſtill: Ambitions debt is paid.

Cuk. Go to the Pulpit Brutus.

Dec. And Cæſiuns too.

Bri. Where's Publius?

Cm. Heere, quite confounded with this mutiny.

Met. Stand ſtand together, left ſome Friend of Cæſars

Should chance—

Bri. Talke not of ſtanding. Publins good cheere,
There is no harme intended to your perſon,
Nor to no Roman elfe: ſo tell them Publius.

Cæs. And leave us Publins, left that the people

Ruffing on us, should do your Age ſome unſchieſe.

Bri. Do ſo, and let no man abide this decree,
But we the Doers.

Enter Trebonius.

Cæs. Where is Anthony?

Treb. Fled to his Houſe amaz'd:

Men, Wives, and Children, ſtare, cry out, and run,
As it were Doomeſday.

Bri. Fates, we will know your pleafures:

That we ſhall dye we know, tis but the time
And drawing dayes out, that men ſtand upon.

Cuk. Why he that cuts off twenty years of life,
Cuts off ſo many years of fearing death.

Bri. Grant that, and then is Death a Benefit:

So are we Cæſars Friends, that have abridg'd
His time of fearing death. Stoope Romans, Stoope,
And let us bathe our hands in Cæſars blood
Up to the Elbowes; and befmeare our Swords:

Then walke we forth, even to the Market place,
And waving our red Weapons o're our heads,
Let's all cry Peace, Freedome, and Liberty.

Cæs. Stoop then, and wath. How many Ages hence
Shall this our lofty Scene be aſted over,
In States unborne, and Accents yet unknowne?

Bri. How many times ſhall Cæsar bleed in ſports,
That now on Pompeyes Bafis lyes along,
No worthier then the duſt?

Cæs. So oft as that ſhall be,
So often ſhall the knot of us be call'd,
The Men that gave their Country liberty.

Dec. What, ſhall we forth?

Caf. I, every man away.

Brutus ſhall leade, and we will grace his heeles

With the moſt boldeſt, and belt hearts of Rome.

Enter a Servant.

Bri. Soft, who comes here? A friend of Antony.

Ser. Thus Brutus, did my Maſter bid me kneele;
Thus did Marke Antony bid me fall downe,

And being proftrate, thus he bad me ſay,
Brutus is Noble, Wife, Valiant, and Honest,

Cæsar was Mighty, Bold, Royall, and Loving:

Say, I love Brutus, and I honour him;

Say, I fear'd Cæsar, honour'd him, and lov'd him.

If Brutus will vouchſafe, that Antony

May faſely come to him, and be refolv'd

How Cæsar hath deferv'd to lye in death,

Mark Antony, ſhall not love Cæsar dead

So well as Brutus living, but will follow

The Fortunes and Aſfaires of Noble Brutus,

Thorough the hazards of this untrod State,

With all true Faith. So ſayes my Maſter Antony.

Bri. Thy Maſter is a Wifc and Valiant Romane,
I never thought him worſe:

Tell him, ſo pleafe him come unto this place

He ſhall be ſatified, and by my Honor

Depart untouch'd.

Ser. Ile fetch him prefently.

Exit Servant.

Bri. I know that we ſhall have him well to Friend.

Cæs. I with wemay: But yet have I a minde

That feares him much: and my eniſgiving ſtill

Falles ſkrewdly to the purpofe.

Enter Antony.

Bri. But here comes Antony:

Welcome Mark Antony.

Ant. O mighty Cæsar! Doſt thou lye ſo low?

Are all thy Conqueſts, Glories, Triumphes, Spoiles,
Shrunke to this little Meaſure? Fare thee well.

I know not Gentlemen what you intend,
Who eſſe muſt be let blood, who eſſe is ranke:

If I my ſelfe, there is no houre ſo fit

As Cæſars deaths houre; nor no Inſtrument

Of half the worth, as that of your Swords; made rich

With the moſt Noble blood of all this World.

I do beſeeth yee, if you beare me hard,

Now, whilſt your purpled hands do reeke and ſmoake
Fulſill your pleafure. Live a thouſand yeeres,
I ſhall not ſinde my ſelfe ſo apt to dye.

No place will pleafe me ſo, no meane of death,

As here by Cæsar, and by you cut off,
The Choice and Maſter Spirits of this Age.

Bri. O Antony! Begge not your death of us:
Though now we must appeare bloody and cruell,
As by our hands, and this our preſent Act
You fee we do: Yet fee you but our hands,

And

The Tragedie of Julius Cæsar.

140

And this, the bleeding busineſſe they have done:
Our hearts you fee not, they are pittifull:
And pitty to the general wrong of Rome,
As fire drives our fire, so pitty, pitty,
Hath done this deed on Cæsar. For your part,
To you, our Swords have leaden points Marke Antony;
Our Armes in ſtrength of malice, and our Hearts
Of Brothers temper, do receive you in,
With all kinde love, good thoughts, and reverence.

Caf. Your voyce ſhall be as ſtrong as any mans,
In the diſpoſing of new Dignities.
Bru. Onely be patient, till we have appeas'd
The Multitude, beſide them ſelv'es with ſeare,
And then, we will deliver you the cauſe,
Why I, that did love Cæsar when I ſtrooke him,
Have thus proceeded.

Ant. I doubt not of your Wifedome:
Let each man render me his bloody hand.
Firstt Marcus Brutus will I ſhake with you;
Next Caius Caffius do I take your hand;
Now Decius Brutus yours, now yours Metellus;
Yours Cinna; and my valiant Caſka, yours;
Though laſt, not leaſt in love, yours good Trebonius;
Gentlemen all: Alas, what ſhall I ſay,
My credit now ſlands on ſuch ſlippery ground,
That one of two bad ways you muſt conceit me,
Either a Coward, or a Flatterer.
That I did love thee Cæsar, O this true:
If then thy Spirit looke upon us now,
Shall it not greeve thee deerer then thy death,
To fee thy Antony making his peace,
Shaking the bloody fingers of thy Foes?
Moſt Noble, in the prefence of thy Coarſe,
Had I as many eyes, as thou haſt wounds,
Weeping as ſaſt as they ſtreame forth thy blood,
It would become me better, then to cloſe
In tearmes of Friendſhip with thine enemies.
Pardon me Julius, heere was't thou bay'd brave Heart,
Heere did ſt thou fall, and heere thy Hunters ſtand
Sign'd in thy Spoyle, and Crimſon'd in thy Lethe.

O World! thou waſt the Forreſt to this Hart,
And this indeed, O World, the Hart of thee.
How like a Decre, ſtricken by many Princes,
Doſt thou heere lye?

Caf. Marke Antony.

Ant. Pardon me Caius Caffius:
The Enemies of Cæsar, shall ſay this:
Then, in a Friend, it is cold Modeſt.
Caf. I blame you not for praiing Cæsar ſo,
But what compact meane you to have with us?
Will you be prick'd in number of our Friends,
Or ſhall we on; and not depend on you?

Ant. Therefore I tooke your hands, but was indeed
Sway'd from the point, by looking downe on Cæsar.
Friends am I with you all, and love you all,
Vpon this hope, that you ſhall give me Reaſons,
Why, and wherein, Cæsar was dangerous.

Bru. Or else were this a favage Speſtacle:
Our Reaſons are ſo full of good regard,
That were you Antony, the Sonne of Cæsar,
You ſhoud be ſatified.

Ant. That's all I feeke,
And am moreover ſutor, that I may
Produce his body to the Market-place,
And in the Pulpit as becomes a Friend,
Speake in the Order of his Funerall.

Bru. You shall Marke Antony.

Caf. Brutus, a word with you:
You know not what you do; Do not conſent
That Antony ſpeake in his Funerall.
Know you how much the people may be mov'd
By that which he will utter.

Bru. By your pardon:
I will my ſelfe into the Pulpit firſt,
And ſhow the reaſon of our Cæſars death.
What Antony ſhall ſpeake, I will proteſt
He ſpeakes by leave, and by permiſion:
And that we are contented Cæsar ſhall
Have all true Rites, and lawfull Ceremonies,
It ſhall advantage more, then do us wrong.

Caf. I know not what may fall, I like it not.

Bru. Marke Antony, heere take you Cæſars body:
You ſhall not in your Funerall ſpeech blame us,
But ſpeake all good you can deviſe of Cæsar,
And ſay you do't by my permiſion:
Elſe ſhall you not have any hand at all
About his Funerall. And you ſhall ſpeake
In the fame Pulpit where to I am going,
After my ſpeech is ended.

Ant. Be it ſo:

I do deſire no more.

Bru. Prepare the body then, and follow us. Exequens.
Manes Antony.

O pardon me, thou bleeding piece of Earth:
That I am meeke and gentle with theſe Butchers.
Thou art the Ruines of the Nobleft man
That ever lived in the Tide of Times.
Woe to the hand that ſhed this coſtly Blood.
Ouer thy wounds, now do I Propheſe,
(which like dumbe mouthes do ope their Ruby lips,
To begge the voyce and utterance of my Tongue)
A Curſe ſhall light upon the limbs of men;
Domesticke Fury, and ſierce Civil, ſtrife,
Shall cumber all the parts of Italy:
Blood and deſtruction ſhall be ſo in uſe,
And dreadfull Objeſts ſo familiar,
That Mothers ſhall but ſmile, when they behold
Their infants quartered with the hands of Warre:
All pitty choak'd with cuſtome of ſell deeds,
And Cæſars Spirit ranging for Revenge,
With Aſe by his ſide, come hot from Hell,
Shall in theſe Confines, with a Monarke's voyce,
Cry havocke, and let ſlip the Dogges of Warre,
That this foule deede, ſhall ſmell above the earth
With Carrion men, groaning for Buriall.

Enter Oſtavius's Servant,

You ſerve Oſtavius Cæsar, do you not?

Ser. I do Marke Antony.

Ant. Cæsar did write for him to come Rome.

Ser. He did receive his Letters, and is comming,
And bid me ſay to you by word of mouth—

O Cæsar!

Ant. Thy heart is biggè: get thee a part and weepe:
Pafſion I fee is catching, for mine eyes,
Seeing theſe Beads of loriow ſtand in thine,
Began to water. Is thy Maſter comming?

Ser. He lies to night within ſeven Leagues of Rome.
Ant. Poſt backe with ſpeede,
And tell him what hath chane'd:
Heere is a mourning Rome, a dangerous Rome,
No Rome of safety for Oſtavius yet,
Hie hence, and tell him ſo. Yet stay a while,

Thou

The Tragedy of Fulius Cæsar.

141

Thou shall not backe, till I have borne this courſe
Into the market place : There shall I try
In my Oration, how the People take
The cruell iſſue of theſe bloody men,
According to the which, thou ſhalt diſcourſe
To young Oſtavius of the ſtate of things.
Lend me your hand.

Exenent

Enter Brutus and goes into the Pulpit, and Caffi-
ou with the Plebians.

Ple. We will be ſatified : let us be ſatisfied.
Bri. Then follow me, and give me Audience friends,
Caffius go you into the other streete,
And part the Numbers :
Thofe that will heare me ſpeake, let ’em ſtay heere ;
Thofe that will follow Caffius, go with him,
And publike Reaſons shall be rendred.
Of Caffars death.

I Pl. I will heare *Brutus* ſpeake.

2. I will heare Caffius, and compare their Reaſons,
When feverally we heare them rendred.

3. The Noble *Brutus* is ſcended : Silence.

Bri. Be patient till the laſt.

Romans, Countrey-men, and Lovers, heare mee for my
caufe, and be ſilent, that you may heare. Beleve mee for
mine Honor, and have reſpect to mine Honor, that you
may beleve. Cenſure me in your Wifedome, and awake
your Senſes, that you may the better Iudge. If there bee
any in this Aſſembly, any deere ſriend of Caffars, to them
I bay, that Brutus love to Caſar, was no leſſe then his. If
then, that ſ Friend demand, why Brutus roſe againſt Caſar,
this is my anſwer: Not that I lov’d Caſar leſſe, but
that Ilov’d Rome more. Had you rather Caſar were li-
ing, and dye all Slaves; then that Caſar were dead, to
live all Free men ? As Caſar lov’d mee, I weepe for him;
as he was Fortunate, I rejoyce at it; as he was Valiant, I
honour him : But, as he was Ambitious, I flew him. There
is Teares, for his Love : Ioy, for his Fortune : Honor, for
his Valour : and death for his Ambition. Who is heere
fo bafe, that would be a Bondman ? If any, ſpeak, for him
have I offended. Who is heere ſo rude, that would not
be a Roman ? If any, ſpeak, for him have I offended. Who
is heere to vile, that will not love his Countrey ? If any,
ſpeak, for him have I offended. I paſſe for a Reply.

All. None *Brutus*, none.

Brutus. Then none have I offended. I have done no
more to Caſar, then you ſhall do to Brutus. The Queſti-
on of his death, is inroll’d in the Capitoll : his Glory not
extenuated, wherein he was worthy ; nor his offences en-
fore’d, for which he ſuffered death.

Enter Mark Antony, with Caſars body.

Here comes his Body, mourn’d by Marke Antony, who
though he had no hand in his death, ſhall receive the be-
eſt of his dying, a place in the Commonwealth, as which
of you ſhall not. With this I depart, that as I flew my
bed Lover for the good of Rome, I have the fame Dag-
ger for my ſelfe, when it ſhall pleafe my Country to need
my death.

All. Live *Brutus*, live, live.

1. Bring him with Triumph home unto his kouſe,

2. Give him a Statue with his Anceſtors.

3. Let him be *Caſar*.

4. Caſars better parts,

Shall be Crown’d in *Brutus*.

1. Wee’ll bring him to his Houſe,

With Showts and Clamors.

Bru. My Country-men.

2. Peace, ſilence, *Brutus* ſpeakes.

1. Peace ho.

Bru. Good Countrymen, let me depart alone,
And (for my ſake) ſtay heere with Antony:
Do grace to Caſars Corpes, and grace his Speech
Tending to Caſars Glories, which Marke Antony
(By our perſmission) is allow’d to make.

I do intreat you, not a man depart.

Save I alone, till *Antony* have ſpoke.

Exit.

1 Stay ho, and let us heare Mark Antony.

3 Let him go up into the publike Chaire,

Wee’l heare him : Noble *Antony* go up.

Ant. For *Brutus* ſake, I am beholding to you,

4 What does he ſay of *Brutus*?

3 He ſayes for *Brutus* ſake

He findes himſeſe beholding to us all.

4 'Twere beſt ſpeake no harme of *Brutus* heere ?

1 This *Caſar* was a Tyrant.

3 Nay thafs certaine :

We are glad that Rome is rid of him.

2 Peace, let us heare what *Antony* can ſay :

Ant, you gentle Romans.

All. Peace, hoc, let us heare him.

An. Friends, Romans, Countrymen, lend me your ears:

I come to bury Caſar, not to prouſe him :

The evill that men do, lives after them,

The good is oft entered with their bones,

So let it be with Caſar. The Noble *Brutus*,

Hath told you Caſar was Ambitions :

If it were ſo, it was a greevons Fault,

And greevouſly hath Caſar anſwer’d it

Heere under leave of *Brutus*, and the reſt,

(For *Brutus* is an Honourable man,

Soare they all, all Honourable men.)

Come I to ſpeake in *Caſars* Funerall.

He was my Friend, faithfull, and juſt to me;

But *Brutus* ſayes, he was Ambitious,

And *Brutus* is an Honourable man.

He hath brought many Captives home to Rome,

Whofe Ranſomes, did the generall Coffers fill :

Did this in *Caſar* ſeeme Ambitious ?

When that the poore have cry’d, *Caſar* hath wept :

Ambition ſhould be made of ſterner ſtuffe,

Yet *Brutus* ſayes, he was Ambitious :

You all did ſee, that on the *Lupercall*,

I thrice prefented him a Kingly Crowne,

Which, he did thrice reſufe. Was this Ambition ?

Yet *Brutus* ſayes, he was Ambitions :

And ſure he is an Honourable man.

I ſpeake not to diſprove what *Brutus* ſpoke,

But heere I am, to ſpeak what I do know ;

You all did love him once, not without cauſe,

What cauſe with-holds you then, to mourne for him?

O J udgement ! thou art fled to brutiſh Beaſts,

And Men have loft their Reaſon. Beare with me,

My heart is in the Coffin there with *Caſar*.

And I muſt paſſe till it come backe to me.

1. Me thinkes there is much reaſon in his ſayings.
If thou confider rightly of the matter,

*Caſar* ha’s had great wrong.

(his place.

3 Ha’s he Maſters ? I feare there will a worſe come in

4. Mark

The Tragedie of Julius Cæsar.

4 Mark'd ye his words ? he would not take Crowne,
Therefore tis certaine, he was not Ambitious.

1 If it be found so, some will decree abide it.

2 Poore foule, his eyes are red as fire with weeping,

3 There's not a Nobler man in Rome then Antony.

4 Now marke him, he begins againe to fpeake.

Ant. But yesterday, the word of Cæsar might
Have flood against the World: Now lies he there,
And none so poore to do him reuerence.

O Maifters ! If I were diſpos'd to ſtirre
Your hearts and mindeſs to Mutiny and Rage,
I ſhould doe Brutus wrong, and Caffins wrong:
who (you all know) are Honourable men.
I will not do them wrong: I rather chooſe
To wrong the dead, to wrong my ſelfe and you,
Then I will wrong ſuch Honourable men.

But heere's a Parchment, with the Seale of Cæsar,
I found it in his Cloſet, tis his Will:

Let but the Commons heare this Teſtament:
(Which pardon me) I do not meane to reade,
And they would go and kiffe dead Cæſars wounds,
And dip their Napkins in his Sacred Blood;
Yea, begge a haire of him for Memory,
And dying, mention it within their Willes,
Bequeathing it as a rich Legacy

Vnto their influence.

4 Wee'l heare the Will, reade it Marke Antony.

All. The Will, the Will; we will heare Cæſars Will.

Ant. Have patience gentle Friends, I muſt not read it.
It is not meet you know how Cæsar lov'd you:

You are not Wood, you are not Stones, but men:
And being men, hearing the Will of Cæsar,
It will inflame you, it will make you mad;
Tis good you know not that you are his Heires,
For if you ſhould, O what would come of it?

4 Read the Will, wee'l heare it Antony:

You ſhall reade us the Will, Cæſars Will.

Ant. Will you be Patient? Will you flay a while?

I have o're ſhot my ſelfe to tell you of it,

I feare I wrong the Honourable men,

Whofe Daggers have ſtabb'd Cæsar: I do feare it.

4 They were Traitors: Honourable men?

All. The Will, the Teſtament.

2 They were Villaines, Murderers: the Will, reade the Will.

Ant. You will compell me then to read the Will;

Then make a Ring about the Corpes of Cæsar,
And let me ſhew you him that made the Will:
Shall I defcend? And will you give me leave?

All. Come downe.

2 Defcend.

3 You ſhall have leave.

4 A Ring, ſtand round.

1 Stand from the Hearſe, ſtand from the Body.

2 Roome for Antony, moſt Noble Antony.

Ant. Nay preſſe not ſo upon me, ſtand farre off.

All. Stand backe: roome, beare backe.

Ant. If you have teares, prepare to ſhed them now.
You all do know this Mantle, I remember

The firſt time ever Cæsar put it on,

Twas on a Summers Evening in his Tent,
That day he overcame the Nervij.

Looke, in this place ran Caffius Dagger through:
See what a rent the envious Caska made:

Through this, the welbeloved Brutus ſtabb'd,
And as he pluck'd his curled Steele away:

Marke how the blood of Cæsar followed it,

As ruffing out of doores, to be reſolv'd

If Brutus to unkindly knock'd, or ne:

For Brutus, as you know, was Cæſars Angel.

Iudge, O you Gods, how deereely Cæſar lov'd him:
This was the moſt unkindeſt cut of all.

For when the Noble Cæſar faw him ſtab,
Ingratitude, more ſtrong then Traitors armes,
Quite vanquifh'd him: then burſt his Mighty heart,
And in his Mantle, mufſling up his face,

Even at the Bafe of Pompey's Statue
(Which all the while ran blood) great Cæſar fell.

O what a fall was there, my Countrymen?

Then I, and you, and all of us fell downe,
Whilft bloody Trefaon flourifh'd over us.

O now you weepe, and I perceive you feele.

The hint of pitty: I heſe are gracious droppes.

Kinde Soules, what weepe you, when you but behold

Our Cæſars Vulture wounded? Look you heere,

Heere is Himſelfe, marr'd as you fee with Traitors.

1 O pittoſous ſpectacle!

2 O Noble Cæſar!

3 O wofull day!

4 O Traitors, Villaines!

1 O moſt bloody fight!

2 We will be reveng'd: Revenge

About, feeke, burne, fire, kill, fly.

Let not a Traitor live.

Ant. Stay Country-men.

1 Peace there, heare the Noble Antony,

2 Wee'l heare him, wee'l follow him, wee'dy with
him. (you up

Ant. Good Friends, weet Friends, let me not ſtirre
To ſuch a bodaine Flood of Mutiny:

They that have done this Decede, are honourable,
What private greeſes they have, alas! I know not,
That made them do it: They are Wifc, and Honourable,
And will no doubt with Reaſons anſwer you.

I come not (Friends) to ſteale away your hearts;
I am no Orator, as Brutus is;

But (as you know me all) a plaine blunt man
That love my Friend, and that they know full well,
That give me publicke leave to ſpeake of him:
For I have neither wit nor words, nor worth,

Action, nor Vtterance, nor the power of Speech,

To ſtirre mens Blood. I onely ſpeake right on:
I tell you that, which you your ſelves do know,
Shew you weſt Cæſars wounds, poor poor dum mouths

And bid them ſpeake for me: But were I Brutus,
And Brutus Antony, there were an Antony

Would ruffle up your Spirits, and put a Tongue
In every Wound of Cæsar, that should move

The ſtones of Rome, to rife and Mutiny.

All. Wee'l Mutiny.

1 Wee'l burne the houſe of Brutus.

3 A way then, come feeke the Conſpirators.

Ant. Yet heare me Countrymen, yet heare me ſpeake
All. Peace hoe, heare Antony, moſt Noble Antony.

Ant. Why Friends, you go to do you know not what.
Wherein hath Cæsar thus deferv'd your loves?

Alas you know not, I muſt tell you then:

You have forgot the Will I told you of.

All. Moſt true, the Will, let's ſtay and heare the Will.

Ant. Heere is the Will, and under Cæſars Scale:

To every Roman Citizen he gives,

To every ſeveral man, ſeventy five Drachmaes.

2 Ple.

The Tragedy of Julius Cæsar.

143

2 Pl. Moſt Noble Cæsar, wee'l revenge his death.

3 Pl. O Royall Cæsar.

Ant. Heare me with patience.

All. Peace hoe

Ant. Moreover, he hath left you all his Walkes,
His private Arbors, and new-planted Orchards,
On this side Tyber, he hath left them you,
And to your heyres for euer: common pleasures
To walke abroad, and recreate your felves.

Heere was a Cæsar: when comes fuch another?

1 Pl. Never, never: come, away, away:
Wee' burne his body in the holy place,
And with the Brands fire all the Traitors houſes.
Take up the body.

2 Pl. Go fetch fire.

3 Pl. Plucke downe Benches.

4 Pl. Plucke downe Formes, Windowes, any thing.

Exenunt Plerieians.

Ant. Now let it worke: Mischefeeth thou art a foot,
Take thou what courſe thou wilt.

How now, Fellow?

Enter Servant.

Sv. Sir, O Cætavius is already come to Rome.

Ant. Where is hee?

Sv. He and Lepidus are at Cæſars houſe.

Ant. And thither will I ſtraight, to viſit him:

He comes vpon a wifh. Fortune is merry,
And in this mood will give us any thing.

Sv. I heard him ſay, Brutus and Cæſius

Are rid like Madmen through the Gates of Rome.

Ant. Belike they had ſome notice of the people

How I had moved them. Bring me to Oſtavius. Exenunt.

Enter Cinna the Poet, and after him the Plebeians.

Cin. I dreamt to night, that I did feaſt with Cæſar,
And things unluckily charge my Fantafie:
I have no will to wander forth of doores,
Yet ſomething leads me forth.

1 What is your name?

2 Whether are you going?

3 Where do you dwell?

4 Are you a married man, or a Batchellor?

2 Anſwer every man directly.

1 Land, brieſely.

4 Land, wifely.

3 I, and truly, you were beſt.

Cin. What is my name? Whether am I going? Where
do I dwell? Am I a married man, or a Batchellour? Then
to anſwer every man, directly and brieſely, wifely and
truly: wifely I ſay, I am a Batchellor.

2 That's as much as to ſay, they are fooles that mar-
ry: you'l beare me a bang for that I feare: proceede di-
rectly.

Cin. Directly I am going to Cæſars Funerall.

1 As a Friend, or an Enemy?

Cin. As a friend.

2 That matter is anſwered directly.

4 For your dwelling: brieſely.

Cin. Brieſely, I dwell by the Capitoll.

3 Your name fir, truly.

Cin. Truly, my name is Cinna.

1 Teare him to peeces, hee's a Conſpirator.

Cin. I am Cinna the Poet, I am Cinna the Poet.

4 Teare him for his bad verſes, teare him for his bad
Verſes.

Cin. I am not Cinna the Conſpirator.

4 It is no matter, his name's Cinna, pluck but his name
out of his heart, and turne him going.

3 Teare him, teare him; Come Brands hoe, Firebrands:
to Brutus, to Cæſius, burne all. Some to Decius Houſes and
fome to Cæſa's; fome to Ligarius: Away, go.

Exenunt all the Plebeians.

Actus Quartus.

Enter Antony, Oſtavius, and Lepidus.

Ant. Theſe many then ſhall die, their names are prikt

Oſt. Your Brother too muſt dye: confent you Lepidus?

Lep. I do content.

Oſt. Pricke him downe Antony.

Lep. Vpon condition Publius ſhall not live,

Who is your Sifters ſonne, Marke Antony.

Ant. He shall not live; looke, with a ſpot I dam him.

But Lepidus, go you to Cæſars houſe:

Fetch the Will hither, and we ſhall determine

How to cut off ſome charge in Legacies.

Lep. What? ſhall I finde you heere?

Oſt. Or heere, or at the Capitoll.

Exit Lepidus.

Ant. This is a flight unmeritable man,

Meet to be ſent on Errands: is it fit

The three-fold World divided, he ſhould ſtand

One of the three to ſhare it?

Oſt. So you thought him,

And tooke his voyce who ſhould be prickt to die
In our blacke Sentence and Proſcription.

Ant. Oſtavius, I have ſeene more dayes then you,
And though we lay theſe Honours on this man,
To eafe our ſelves of divers ſland'rous loads,

He ſhall but beare them, as the Aſſe beares Gold,
To groane and ſweat under the Bufineſſe,

Either led or driven, as we print the way:

And having brought our Treafure, where we will,
Then take we downe his Load, and turne him off

(Like to the empty Aſſe) to ſhake his cares,

And graze in Commons.

Oſt. You may do your will:

But hee's a tried, and valiant Souldier.

Ant. So is my Horſe Oſtavius, and for that
I do appoint him ſtore of Provender.

It is a Creaſure that I teach to fight,
To winde, to ſtop, to run directly on:

His corporall Motion, govern'd by my Spirit,
And in ſome taſte, is Lepidus but to:

He muſt be taught, and train'd, and bid go forth:
A barren ſpirited Fellow; one that feeds

On Objects, Arts, and Imitations.

Which out of vie, and ſtal'd by other men
Begin his ſashion. Do not talke of him,

But as a property: and now Oſtavius,
Liſten great things. Brutus and Cæſius

Are levying Powers; We muſt ſtraight make head:
Therefore let our Alliance be combin'd,

Our beſt Friends made and our beſt meanes ſtretcht out,
And let us prefently go fit in Councell,

How covert matters may be beſt difſe'd,
And open Perils ſureſt anſwered.

Oſt. Let us do ſo: for we are at the ſtake,

And

The Tragedie of Julius Cæsar.

144

And bayed about with many Enemies,
And fome that fmile have in their hearts I feare
Millions of Mifcheefes.

Exeunt.

Drum. Enter Brutus, Lucilius, and the Army.
and Pindarus meete them.

Titinius

Bru. Stand ho.

Luc. Give the word ho,and Stand.

Bru. What now Lucilius, is Caffius neere?

Luc. He is at hand, and Pindarus is come

To do you falutation from his Maſter.

Bru. He greets me well. Your Maſter Pindarus

In his owne change,or by ill Oſicers,
Hath given me fome worthy caufe to wifh
Things done,undone:But if he be at hand,
I ſhall be fatiſhed.

Pin. I do not doubt

But that my Noble Maſter will appeare

Such as he is,full of regard,and Honour.

Bru. He is not doubted. A word Lucilius

How he receiv'd you;let me be refolv'd.

Luc. With courteſe,and with refpect enough,
But not with ſuch familiar inſtances,

Nor with ſuch free and friendly Conference
As he hath us'd of old.

Bru. Thou haſt defcrib'd

A hot Friend, cooling: Ever note Lucilius,

When Love begins to ficken and decay
It ufeth an enforſed Ceremony.

There are no tricks, in plaine and ſimple Faith:

But hollow men, like Horſes hot at hand,

Make gallant ſhew, and promife of their Mettle:

Low March within.

But when they ſhould endure the bloody Spurre,
They fall their Creſt, and like deceſſualides

Sinke in the Triall. Comes his Army on?

Luc. They meane this night in Sardis to be quarter'd:

The greater part, the Horſe in general

Are come with Caffius.

Enter Caffius and his Powers.

Bru. Hearke, he is arriv'd:

Marſch gently on to meete him,

Caſ. Stand ho.

Bru. Stand ho, ſpeake the word along.

Stand.

Stand.

Stand.

Caſ. Moſt Noble Brother; you have done me wrong.

Bru. Indge me you Gods; wrong I mine Enemies?

And if not, how ſhould I wrong a Brother.

Caſ. Brutus, this ſober forme of yours, hides wrongs,

And when you do them—

Bru. Caffius, be content,

Speake your greeſes softly, I do know you well.

Before the eyes of both our Armies heere

(Which ſhould perceive nothing but Love from us)

Let us not wrangle. Bid them move away:

Then in my Tent Caffius enlarge your Grieſes
And I will give you Audience.

Caſis. Pindarus,

Bid our Commanders leade their Charges off
A little from this ground.

Bru. Lucilius, do you the like, and let no man

Come to our Tent, till we have dooe our Conference.

Let Lucius and Titinius guard our doore.

Exeunt.

Manent Brutus and Caffius.

Caſ. That you have wrong'd me, doth appear in this:
You have condemn'd, and noted Lucius Pella

For taking Bribes heere of the Sardians;

Wherein my Letter, praying on his ſide,

Because I knew the man, was ſlighted off.

Bru. You wrong'd your ſelfe to write in ſuch a caſe.

Caſ. In ſuch a time as this, it is not meet

That every nice ſoffence should beare his Comment.

Bru. Let me tell you Caffius, you your ſelfe.

Are much condemn'd to have an itching Palme,
To fell, and Mart your Oſices for Gold
To Vndeſervers.

Caſ. I, an itching Palme?

You know that you are Brutus that ſpeakes this,
Or by the Gods, this ſpeech were ſelfe your laſt.

Bru. The name of Caffius Honors this corruption,
And Chaſticement doth therefore hide his head.

Caſ. Chaſticement?

Bru. Remember March, the Ides of March remember:
Did not great Inius bleede for Iuſtice take?

What Villaine touch'd his body, that did ſtab,

And not for Iuſtice? What, shall one of Vs,

That ſtrucke the Formoft man of all this World,

But for ſupporting Robbers: Ihaſt we now,

Contaminate our fingers, with baſe Bribes?

And fell the mighty ſpace of our large Honors

For ſo much graſh, as may be graſped thus?

I had rather be a Dogge, and baite the Moone,
Then ſuch a Roman.

Caſ. Brains, baite not me,

Ile not indure it: you forget your ſelfe

To hedge me in, I am a Souldier, I,

Older in practice, Abler then your ſelfe

To make Conditions.

Bru. Go to: you are not Caffius.

Caſ. I am.

Bru. I ſay, you are not.

Caſ. Vrge me no more, I ſhall forget my ſelfe:

Have minde upon your health: Tempt me no farther.

Bru. Awaſt flight man.

Caſ. Is't poſſible?

Bru. Heare me, for I will ſpeake.

Muſt I give way, and roome to your rath Choler ?

Shall I be frighted, when a Madman ſtares ?

Caſ. O ye Gods, ye Gods, Muſt I endure all this?

Bru. All this? I more, Fret till your proud heart break,
Go ſhew your Slaves how Cholericke you are,
And make your Bondmen tremble. Muſt I boudge?

Muſt I obſerve you? Muſt I ſtand and crouch

Vnder your Teſtie Humour? By the Gods,

You ſhall digest the Venom of your Spleene

Thought it do Split you. For from this day forth,

Ile vſe you for my Mirth, yea for my Laughter

When you are Wafpith.

Caſ. Is it come to this?

Bru. You ſay, you are a better Souldier:

Let it appeare ſo; make your vaunting true,

And it ſhall pлеa me well. For mine owne part,

I ſhall be glad to leane of Noble men.

Caſ. You wrong me every way:

You wrong me Brains?

I faide, an Elder Souldier, not a Better.

Did I ſay Better?

Bru. If you did, I care not.

(me.)

Caſ. When Cæsar liv'd, he durſt not thus have mov'd

Bru. Peace, peace, you durſt not have tempted him.

Caſſus.

The Tragedy of Julius Caesar.

145

Caffi. I durft not.
Bru. No.
Caffi. What? durft not attempt him?
Bru. For your life you durft not.
Caffi. Doe not prefume too much upon my Love,
I may doe that I shall be forry for.
Bru. You have done that you should be forry for.
There is no terror Caffius in your threats.
For I am arm'd fo strong in Honefty,
That they paſſe by me, as the idle winde,
Which I reſpect not. I did ſend to you
For certaine ſummes of Gold, which you deny'd me,
For I can raife no money by vile meanses:
By heaven, I had rather Coyne my heart,
And drop my blood for Drachmaes, then to wring
From the hard hands of Peazants, their vile traſh
By any indirection. I did ſend
To you for Gold to pay my Legions,
Which you deny'd me: was that done like Caffius?
Should I have anſwer'd Caffus Caffius to?
When Marcus Brutus growes to Covetous,
To lockeuch Rafeall Counters from his friends,
Beready gods with all your Thunder-bolts,
Dath him to peeces.

Caffi. I deny'd you not.

Bru. You did.

Caffi. I did not. He was but a Foole
That brought my anſwer back. Brutus hath riu'd my hart
A friend should beare his friends infirmityes,
But Brutus makes mine greater then they are.
Bru. I doe not, till you practice them on me.
Caffi. You love me not.
Bru. I doe not like your faults.
Caffi. A friendly eye could never ſee ſuch faults.
Brut. A flatterers would not, though they do appear

As hugeas high Olympus.
Caffi. Come Antony, and yong Oſtavius come,
Revenge your ſelves alone on Caffius,
For Caffius is a-weary of the World :
Hated by one he loves, brau'd by his brother,
Cheek'd like a bondman, all his faults obſerv'd,
Seri in a Note-booke, learn'd, and con'd by roate
To caſt into my Teeth. O I could weepe
My Spirit from mine eyes: There is my Dagger,
And heere my naked Breast: Within a heart
Deerer then Plutus Mine: Richer then gold:
If that thou beaſt a Roman, take it forth.
I that deny'd thee gold, will give my heart:
Strike as thou didst at Cæsar: for I know,
When thou didſt hate him worſt, thou lovedſt him better
Then ever thou lovedſt Caffius.

Bru. Scaeth your Daguer :

Be angry when you will, it ſhall have ſcope :

Doe what you will, diſhonor, ſhall be humour.

O Caffius, you are yoaked with a Lambe

That carries Anger, as the Flint beares fire,
Who much inſorced, ſhewes a haſty ſparke,
And ſtraite is cold agen.

Caffi. Hath Caffius liv'd

To be but Mirth and Laughter to his Brutus,

When griefe and blood ill temper'd, vexeth him ?

Bru. When I spoke that, I was ill temper'd too.

Caffi. Doe you conſeſſe to much? Give me your hand.

Bru. And my heart too.

Caffi. O Brutus!

Bru. What's the matter ?

Caffi. Have not you love enough to bear with me,
When that rafh humour which my Mother gave me
Makes me forgetfulls?

Bru. Yes Caffius, and from henceforth
When you are over-earneſt with your Brutus,
Hee'l thinke your Mother chides, and leave you to.

Enter a Poet.

Poet. Let me goe into to fee the Generals,

There is ſome grudge betweene em, tis not meete
They be alone.

Luci. You ſhall not come to them.

Poet. Nothing but death ſhall fly me.

Caffi. How now ? What's the matter ?

Poet. For ſhame you Generals? what doe you meane?
Love, and be friends, as two ſuch men ſhould be,
For I have ſeene more yeeres Ime ſure then yee.

Caffi. Ha, ha, how vildely doth this Cynicke rime :

Bru. Get you hence firrah : Sawcy fellow, hence.

Caffi. Beare with him Brutus, tis his fashion.

Bru. Ile know his humour, when he knowes his time:
What should the Warres doe with these ligging fooles?
Companion, hence.

Caffi. Away, away be gone.

Exit Poet.

Bru. Lucillius and Titinius bid the Commanders
Prepare to lodge their Companies to night.

Caffi. And come your ſelves, &c. bring Meſſala with you
Immediately to us.

Bru. Lucius, a bowle of Wine.

Caffi. I did not thinke you could have bin ſo angry,

Bru. O Caffius, I am ſicke of many griefes.

Caffi. Of your Philofophy you make no uſe,

If you give place to accidentali evillies.

Bru. No man beares forrow better. Portia is dead.

Caffi. Ha ? Portia?

Bru. She is dead.

Caffi. How ſcap'd I killing, when I croft you ſo?

O inſupportable, and touching loffe !

Vpon what fickneſſe ?

Bru. Impatient of my abſence.

And griete, that yong Oſtavius with Marke Antony,
Have made themſelves ſo strong: For with her death
That tydings came. With this the fell diftraſt,

And (her Attendants abſent) ſwallow'd fire.

Caffi. And dy'd ſo ?

Bru. Even ſo.

Caffi. O ye immortall gods !

Enter Boy with Wine, and Tapers.

Bru. Speake no more of her : Give me a bowle of wine
In this I bury all unkindneſſe Caffius.

Drinking.

Caffi. My heart is thirty for that Noble pledge,
Fill Lucius, till the Wine ore- ſwell the Cup :
I cannot drinke too much of Brutus love.

Enter Titinius, and Meſſala.

Bru. Come in Titinius:

Welcome good Meſſala :

Now fit we cloſe about this Taper here,
And call in queſtion our neceſſities.

Caffi. Portia, art thou gone?

Bru. No more I pray you.

Meſſala, I have here received Letters,

That yong Oſtavius, and Marke Antony

Come downe upon us with a mighty power,

Bending their Expedition toward Philippi,

nn

Meſſa.

The Tragedy of Julius Caesar.

146

Meff. My selfe have Letters of the selfe-fame Tenure,
Bru. With what Addition.

Meff. That by proſcription, and billes of Outlary,
Och. Antony, and Lepidus,

Have put to death, an hundred Senators.

Bru. Therein our Letters doe not well agree :

Mine ſpeak of ſeventy Senators, that dy'de
By their proſcriptions, Cicero being one.

Caffi. Cibero one ?

Meffa. Cicero is dead, and by that order of proſcription
Had you your Letters from your wife, my Lord ?

Bru. No Meſala.

Meffa. Nor nothing in your Letters writ of her ?

Bru. Nothing Meſſala.

Meffa. That me thinkes is ſtrange.

Bru. Why aske you ?

Heare you ought of her, in yours ?

Meffa. No!my Lord.

Bru. Now as you are a Roman tell me true.

Meff. Then like a Roman, beare the truth I tell,
For certaine ſhe is dead, and by ſtrange maner.

Bru. Why farewell Portia: We muſt dye Meſſala :
With meditating that the muſt dye once,
I have the patience to endure it now.

Meffa. Even ſo great men, great loſſes ſhould indure,
Caffi. I have as much of this in Art as you.

But yet my Nature could not beare it ſo.

Bru. Well, to our worke alive. What doe you thinke
Of marching to Philippi preſently.

Caffi. I do not thinke it good.

Bru. Your reaſon ?

Caffi. This it is :

Tis better that the Enemy ſeeke us,
So ſhall he waſte his meanes, weary his Souldiers,
Doing himſelfe offence, whilſt we lying ſtill,
Are full of reſt, defence, and nimblenſe.

Bru. Good reaſons muſt of force give place to better:
The people twixt Philippi, and this ground

Doe ſtand but in a fore'd affection :
For they have grug'd us Contribution.

The Enemy, marching along by them,
By them ſhall make a fuller number up,
Come on reſrefht, new added, and encourag'd;
From which advantage ſhall we cut him off.

If at Philippi we doe face him there,
Thefe people at our backe,

Caffi. Heare me good brother.

Bru. Vnder your pardon. You muſt note beſide,
That we have tridethe utmoſt of our friends :

Our Legions are brim full, our cauſe is ripe,
The Enemy encreaſeth every day,

We at the height, are ready to decline.
There is a Tide in the affayres of men,

Which taken at the Flood, leads on to Fortune :
Omitted, all the voyage of their life,

Is bound in Shallowes, and in Miferies.
On ſuch a full Sea are we now a-float,

And we muſt take the current when it ſerves,
Or loofe our Ventures,

Caffi. Then with your will goe on: we'll along
Our ſelves, and meet them at Philippi.

Bru. The deepe of night is crept upon our talke,
And Nature muſt obey Necessity,

Which we will niggard with a little reſt:
There is no more to ſay.

Caffi. No more, good night,

Early to morrow will we rife, and hence.

Enter Lucius.

Bru. Lucius my Gowne: farewell good Meſſala,
Good night Titinſua: Noble, Noble Caffiuſ,
Good night, and good repofe.

Caffi. O my deere brother :

This was an ill beginning of the night :

Never come such division twcene our ſoules :
Let it not Brutus.

Enter Lucius with the Gowne.

Bru. Every thing is well,

Caffi. Good night my Lord.

Bru. Good night good brother.

Titi: Meſſa. Good night Lord Brutus.

Bru. Farewell every one.

Exultum.

Give me the Gowne. Where is thy inſtrument ?

Luc. Heere in the Tent.

Bru. What thou ſpeak'st drowſely ?

Poore knave I blame thee art, thou art ore-watch'd.

Call Claudio, and ſome other of my men,

Ile have them sleepe on Cuffions in my Tent.

Luc. Varus, and Claudio.

Enter Varus and Claudio.

Var. Calls my Lord ?

Bru. I pray you firſ, lye in my Tent and sleepe,
It may be I ſhall raſe you by and by.

On buſineſſe to my brother Caffiuſ.

Vas. So pleafe you, we will ſtand,
And watch your pleasure.

Bru, I will not have it ſo: Lye downe good firſ,
It may be I ſhall other wife bethinke me.

Looke Lucius, heeres the booke I fought for ſo :
I put it in the pocket of my Gowne.

Luc. I was ſure your Lordship did not give it me.

Bru. Beare with me good Boy, I am much forgetſull.
Canſt thou hold up thy inſtrument a ſtraine or two?

And touch thy heavy eyes a-while,

Luc. I my Lord, an't pleafe you.

Bru. It does my Boy ;

I trouble thee too much, but thou art willing.

Luc. It is my duty Sir.

Bru. I should not urge thy duty paſt thy might,
I know yong blouds looke for a time of reſt.

Luc. I have flept my Lord already.

Bru. It was well done, and thou ſhalt sleepe againe :
I will not hold thee long. If I doe live,

I will be good to thee.

Muficke, and a Song.

This is a sleepty Tuné: O Murdrous flumbler !

Layſt thou thy Leaden Mace upon my Boy,

That playes thee Muficke ? Gentle knave good night :

I will not doe thee ſo much wrong to wake thee :

If thou doſt nod, thou break'ſt thy inſtrument,

Ile take it from thee, and (good Boy ) good night.

Let me ſee, let me ſee ? is not the Leafe turn'd downe
Where I left reading ? Heere it is I thinke.

Enter the Ghost of Caſar.

How ill this Taper burnes. Ha ! Who comes here ?

I thinke it is the weakenſe of mine eyes

That ſhapes this monſtrous Apparition.

It comes upon me: Art thou any thing ?

Art thou ſome god, ſome Angell, or ſome Divell,

That mak'ſt my blood cold, and my haire to flare ?

Speake to me, what thou art.

Ghast. Thy evill Spirit Brutus

Bru. Why comſt thou ?

Ghast.

["The Tragedy of Julius Caesar.", "147", "Gboſt. To tell thee thou flalt fee me at Philippi.", "Brut. Well : then I shall fee thee againe ?", "Gboſt. I, at Philippi.", "Bru. Why I will fee thee at Philippi then :", "Now I have taken heart, thou vanitheſt.", "Ill Spirit, I would hold more talke with thee.", "Boy, Lucius, Varres, Claudio, Sirs: awake : Claudio.", "Luci. The strings my Lord are falſe.", "Bru. Hethinkes he ſtill is at his inſtrument.", "Lucius, awake.", "Luci. My Lord.", "Bru. Didſt thou dreame Lucius, that thou ſo cryedft out ?", "Luc. My Lord, I doe not know that I did cry.", "Bru. Yes that thou didſt ; Didſt thou fee any thing ?", "Luc. Nothing my Lord.", "Bru. Sleepe againe Lucius : Sirra Claudio, ſellow,", "Thou: Awake.", "Var. My Lord.", "Cla. My Lord.", "Bru. Why did you ſo cry out firſ in your ſleepe ?", "Beth. Did we my Lord ?", "Bru. I: law you any thing ?", "Var. No my Lord, I law nothing.", "Cla. Nor I my Lord.", "Bru. Goe, and commend me to my brother Caffius :", "Bid him ſet on his Powres betimes before,", "And we will follow.", "Boſt. It ſhall be done my Lord.", "Exequens.", "## Actus Quintus.", "Enter Oſtavius, Antony, and their Army.", "Oſtavius. Now Antony, our hopes are anſwered,", "You faid the Enemy would not come downe,", "But keepe the hilles and upper Regions :", "It proves not ſo : their battailes are at hand,", "They meane to warne us at Philippi here :", "Anſwering before we doe demand of them.", "Ant. Tut I am in their boſomes, and I know", "Wherefore they doe it : They could be content", "To vifit other places, and come downe", "With fearefull bravery : thinking by this face", "To ſten in our thoughts that they have Courage :", "But tis not ſo.", "Enter a Mefſenger.", "Mefſ. Prepare you Generals,", "The Enemy comes on in gallant ſhow :", "Their bloody ſigne of Battell is hung out,", "And ſomething to be done immediately.", "Ant. Oſtavius, leade your Battaile ſoftely on", "Vpon the left hand of the even field.", "Oſtavius. Vpon the right hand I, keepe thou the left.", "Ant. Why doe you croſſe me in this exigent.", "Oſtavius. I doe not croſſe you: but I will doe for March.", "Drum. Enter Brutus, Caffius, and their Army.", "Bru. They ſtand, and would have parley.", "Caffi. Stand ſaft Tisinius, we muſt out and talke.", "Oſtavius, Marke Antony, I ſhall we give ſigne of Battaile ?", "Ant. No Cefar, we will anſwer on their Charge.", "Make forth, the generalls would have ſome words.", "Oſtavius. Stirre not untill the Signall.", "Bru. Words before blowes : is it ſo Countrymen ?", "Oſtavius. Not that we love words better, as you doe.", "Bru. Good words are better then bad ſtrokes Oſtavius", "Ant. In your bad ſtrokes Brutus, you give good words", "Witneſſe the hole you made in Cefars heart,", "Crying long live, haile Cefar.", "Caffi. Antony,", "The poſure of your blowes are yet unknowne ;", "But for your words, they rob the Hible bees,", "And leave them Hony-leſſe.", "Ant. Not ſtingleſſe too.", "Bru. Oyes, and foundleſſe too :", "For you have ſtolne their buzzing Antony,", "And very wifely threat before you ſting.", "Ant. Villaines: you did not ſo, when your vile daggers", "Hackt one another in the ſides of Cefar :", "You ſhew'd your teethes like Apes,", "And fawn'd like hounds,", "And bow'd like Bondmen, kiffing Cefars ſeete :", "Whilft damned Caska, like a Curre, behind", "Strooke Cefar on the necke. O you flatterers.", "Caffi. Flatterers ? Now Brutus thanke your ſelfe,", "This tongue had not offended ſo to day,", "If Caffius might have rulſ.", "Oſtavius. Come, come, the canſe. If arguing make us ſwet,", "The proofe of it will turne to redder drops :", "Looke, I draw a Sword againſt Conſpirators,", "When thinke you that the Sword goes up againe ?", "Never till Cefars : three and thirty wounds", "Be well aveng'd ; or till another Cefar", "Have added ſlaughter to the Sword of Traytors.", "Bru. Cefar, thou canſt not dye by Traytors hands,", "Vnleſſe thou bringſt them with thee.", "Oſtavius. So I hope :", "I was not borne to dye on Brutus Sword !", "Bru. O if thou wert the Nobleft of thy Straine,", "Yong-man, thou couldſt not dye more honorable.", "Caffi. A peeviſh Schoole-boy, worthies of ſuch honor", "Ioyn'd with a Masker, and a Reveller.", "Ant. Old Caffius ſtill.", "Oſtavius. Come Antony : away :", "Deſiance Traitors, hurle we in your teeth.", "If you dare fight to day, come to the field ;", "If not, when you have ſtomackes,", "Exit Oſtavius, Antony, and Army.", "Caffi. Why now blow winde, ſwell billow,", "And twimme Barke :", "The Storme is up, and all is on the hazard.", "Bru. Ho Lucilius, hearke, a word with you.", "Lucilius, and Mefſala stand forth.", "Luc. My Lord.", "Caffi. Mefſala.", "Mefſa. What layes my generall ?", "Caffi. Mefſala, this is my Birth-day : as this very day", "Was Caffius borne. Give me thy hand Mefſala :", "Bethou my witneſſe, that againſt my will,", "(As Pompey was) am I compell'd to ſet", "Vpon one Battell all our Liberties.", "You know, that I held Epicurus ſtrong,", "And his opinion: Now I echange my minde,", "And partly credit things that doe preſage.", "Comming from Sardius, on our former Enſigne", "Two mighty Eagles ſell, and there they pearch'd,", {"bbox": [4

["The Tragedy of Julius Cæsar.", "Who to Philippi here conforted us:\nThis Morning are they fled away, and gone,\nAnd in their fleeds, doe Ravens, Crowes, and Kites\nFlye ore our heads, and downward looke on us\nAs we were fickely prey; their shadowes feeme\nA Canopy molt fatall, under which", "Our Army lyes, ready to give up the Ghoſt.", "Mесса. Beleeve not so.", "Caffi. I but beleeve it partly,", "For I am freth of ſpirit, and refolv'd\nTo meet all peril, very conſantly.", "Bru. Even so Lucillius.", "Caffi. Now molt Noble Brutus,", "The gods to day ſtand friendly, that we may\nLovers in peace, leade on our dayes to age.", "But ſince the affayres of men reſt ill incertaine,\nLet's reaſon with the worſt that may befall.", "If we doe loſe this Battaile, then is this\nThe very laſt time we ſhall ſpeake together:", "What are you then determined to do?", "Bru. Even by the rule of that Philofophy,\nBe which I did blame Cato, for the death\nWhich he did give himſelfe, I know not how :", "But I doe find it Cowardly, and vile,", "For ſeare of what might fall, ſo to prevent\nThe time of life, arming my ſelfe with patience,\nTo ſtay the prouidence of ſome high Powers,\nThat governe us below.", "Caffi. Then, if we looke this Battaile,\nYou are contented to be led in Triumph", "Thorow the freets of Rome.", "Bru. No Caffius, no :", "Thinke not thou Noble Romane,", "That ever Brutus will gee bound to Rome,\nHe beares too great a minde, But this fame day\nMuſt end that worke, that Ide of March begun.", "And whether we ſhall meete againe, I know not :\nTherefore our everlaſting, farewell take :", "For ever, and for ever, farewell Caffius,", "If we doe meete againe, why we ſhall ſmile :", "If not, why then this parting was well made.", "Caffi. For ever, and for ever, farewell Brutus :", "If we doe meete againe, we'll ſmile indeed ;", "If not, tis true, this parting was well made.", "Bru. Why then leade on. O that a man might know", "The end of this dayes buſineſſe, ere it come :", "But it ſuſiceth, that the day will end,", "And then the end is knowne. Come ho, away. Exeunt.", "Alarum. Enter Brutus and Messala.", "Bru. Ride, ride Messala, ride and give theſe Billes\nVnto the Legions, on the other ſide.", "Lowd Alarum.", "Let them ſet on at once; for I perceive\nBut cold demeanor in Oſtavio's wing :", "And ſodaine puſh gives them the overthrow :", "Ride, ride Messala, let them all come downe. Exeunt.", "Alarums. Enter Caffius and Titinius.", "Caffi. O looke Titinius, looke, the Villaines flye:\nMy ſelfe have to mine owne turn'd Enemy :", "This Enſigne heere of mine was turning backe,\nI flew the Coward, and did take it from him.", "Titin. O Caffius, Brutus gave the word too early,", "Who having ſome advantage on Oſtavius", "Tooke it too eagerly: his Souldiers fell to ſpoyle,\nWhilſt we by Antony are all inclos'd.", "Enter Pindarus.", "Pind. Flye further off my Lord: flye further off,\nMarke Antony is in your Tents my Lord:", "Flye therefore Noble Caffius, flye farre off.", "Caffi. This hill is farre enough. Looke, looke Titinius\nAre thofe my Tents where I perceive the fire ?", "Tit. They are, my Lord.", "Caffi. Titinius, if thou loveſt me,", "Mount thou my horſe, and hide thy ſpurres in him,\nTill he have brought thee up to yonder Troopes", "And here againe, that I may reſt auſſur", "Whether yond Troopes, are friend or Enemy.", "Tit. I will be here againe, even with a thought. Exit.", "Caffi. Goe Pindarus, get thither on that hill,", "My fight was ever thicke: regard Titinius,", "And tell me what thou nott about the field.", "This day I breathed firſt, time is come round,", "And where I did begin, there ſhall I end,", "My life is run his compaſſe. Sirra, what newes?", "Pind. Abone. O my Lord.", "Caffi. What newes?", "Pind. Titinius is encloſed round about", "With horſemen, that make to him on the Spurre,", "Yet he ſpurres. Now they are almost on him :", "Now Titinius, Now ſome light : O he lights too.", "Hes tane.", "Shawt.", "And heareke, they ſhout for joy.", "Caffi. Come downe, behold no more :", "O Coward that I am, to live ſo long,", "To fee my beſt friend tane before my face", "Enter Pindarus.", "Come here firrah ; In Parthia did I take thee Prifoner,", "And then I ſwore theſe, ſaving of thy life,", "That whatſoever I did bid thee doe,", "Thou ſhouſdſt attempt it. Come now, kcepe thine oath,", "Now be a free-man, and with this good Sword", "That ran through Cæsar bowels, ſcarch this boſome.", "Stand not to anſwer: Heere, take thou the Hilts,", "And when my face is cover'd, as tis now,", "Guide thou the Sword— Cæsar, thou art reveng'd,", "Even with the Sword that kill'd thee. Kills him.", "Pin. So, I am free,", "Yet would not ſo have beene", "Durſt I have done my will. O Caffius,", "Farre from this Country Pindarus shall run,", "Where never Roman ſhall take note of him.", "Enter Titinius, and Messala.", "Messa. It is but change, Titinius: for Oſtavius", "Is overthrowne by Noble Brutus power,", "As Caffius Legions are by Antony.", "Titin. Theſe tydings will we well comfort Caffius.", "Messa. Where did you leave him.", "Titin. All diſconſolate,", "With Pindarus his Bondman, on this hill.", "Messa. Is not that he that lyes upon the ground?", "Titin. He lyes not like the Living. O my heart !", "Messa. Is not that he ?", "Titin. No, this was he Messala,", "But Caffius is no more. O ſetting Sunne :", "As in thy red Rayes thou doſt ſinke to night ;", "So", "So in his red ſeats he layeth\nThe Sonne of Clowds, Dewes,\nMiftraut of men.", "Messa. M. O hatefull En", "Why doſt thou that\nThe things that\nThou never didst\nBut kill the", "Tit. What", "Messa. So.", "The Noble B. Enter his eares.\nInto his eares\nFor piercing\nShall be as w", "As tydings of\nTit. Hye, what\nAnd I will ſe\nWhy didt he\nDid Not me\nPut on my br", "And bid me ge\nAlas, thou ha\nBut hold the\nThy Brutus.", "Will doe his", {"bbox": [1110

["The Tragedy of Julius Caesar.", "149", "So in his red blood *Caffinus* day it fet.", "The Sonne of Rome is fet. Our day is gone,", "Clowds, Dewes, and Dangers come; our deeds are done:\nMiftruft of my fucceſſe hath done this deed.", "O hatefull Error, Melancholies Childe :", "Why doſt thou ſhew to the apt thoughts of men", "The things that are not ? O Error ſoon concey'd,", "Thou never com'ſt unto a happy byrth,", "But kill the Mother that engendred thee.", "Tit. What Pindarъ ? Where art thou Pindarъ ?", "Mefſa. Seeke him Titius, whilſt I goe to meet", "The Noble Brutus, thurſuing this report", "Into his cares; I may ſay thurſuing it :", "For piercing Steele, and Darts invenomed,", "Shall be as welcome to the cares of Brutus,", "Aſt ydings of this fight.", "Tit. Hye you Meſſala,", "And I will fecke for Pindarъ the while :", "Why didt thou ſend me forth brave *Caffinus* ?", "Did I not meet thy friends, and did not they", "Put on my brows this wreath of Victory,", "And bid me give it thee ? Didt thou not heare theit", "Alas, thou haſt miſconſtrued every thing. (howts?", "But hold thee, take this Garland on thy Brow,", "Thy *Brutus* bid me gine it thee, and I", "Will doe his bidding. *Brutus*, come apace,", "And fee how I regarded Caius Caffine :", "By your leave gods: This is a Romans part,", "Come Caffius Sword, and find Titinius heart.", "Dyes.", "Alarum. Enter Brutus, Meſſala, Cato,\nStrato, Volumnius, and Lucilius.", "Bru. Where, where Meſſala, doth his body lye ?", "Mefſa. Loc yonder, and Titinius mourning it.", "Bru. Titinius face is upward.", "Cato. Heis flaine.", "Bru. O Iulius Caſar, thou art mighty yet,", "Thy iſpirit wa'kes abroad, and turnes our Swords", "In our owne proper Entrails. Low Alarums.\nCato. Brave Titinius,", "Looke where he have not crown'd dead Caffine.", "Bru. Are yet two Romans living ſuch as theſe ?", "The laſt of all the Romans, fare thee well :", "It is inpoſſible, that ever Rome", "Should breed thy fellow : friends I lowe mo teares", "To this dead man, then you ſhall fee me pay.", "I haſt find time, Caffine : I ſhall find time.", "Come therefore, and to Tharſus ſend his body,", "His funerals ſhall not be in our Campe,", "Leaſt it diſcomfort us. Lucilius come,", "And come yong Cato, let us to the field,\nLabio and Flavius ſet our Battailles on :", "Tis three a clocke, and Romans yet ere night,", "We ſhall try fortune in a ſecond fight. Exeunt.", "Alarum. Enter Brutus, Meſſala, Cato, Lucilius,\nand Flavius.", "Bru. Yet Country men : O yet, hold up your heads.", "Cato. What Baſtard doth not ? who will goe with me?", "I will proclaime my name about the Field.", "I am the Sonne of Marcus Cato, hoe.", "A Foe to Tyſants, and my Countries friend.", "I am the Sonne of Marcus Cato, hoe.", "Enter Souldiers, and fight.", "And I am Brutus, Marcus Brutus, I.", "Brutus my Countries friend: Know me for Brutus,\nLuc. O yong and Noble Cato, art thou downe?", "Why now thou dyeft, as bravely as Titinius,", "And may'it be honour'd, being Cato's Sonne.", "Sold. Yeed, or thou dyeft.", "Luc. Onely I yeeld to dye :", "There is ſo much, that thou wilt kill me ſtraight :", "Kill Brutus, and be honor'd in his death,", "Sold. We muſt not : a Noble Prifoner.", "Enter Antony.", "2 Sold. Roome hoe : tell Antony, Brutus is tane,", "1 Sold. Ile tell thee newes. Heere comes the Generall,\nBrutus is tane, Brutus is tane my Lord.", "e Ant. Where is he ?", "Luc. Safe Antony, Brutus is ſafe enough :", "I dare aſſure thee, that no Enemy", "Shall ever take alive the Noble Brutus :", "The gods defend him from ſo great a ſhame,", "When you doe finde him, or a live, or dead,", "He will be found like Brutus, like himſelfe.", "Ant. This is not Brutus friend, but I aſſure you,", "A prize no leſſe in worth; keepe this man ſaſe,", "Give him all kindneſſe. I had rather have", "Such men my friends, then Enemies. Goe on,", "And fee where Brutus be alive or dead,", "And bring us, unto Ollavius Tent,", "How every thing is chanc'd.", "Exeunt.", "Enter Brutus, Dardanius, Clitus, Strato,\nand Volumnius.", "2 Bru. Come poore remaines of friends, reſt on this\nRocke.", "Clit. Statilius ſhew'd the Torch-light, but my Lord!", "He came not backe : he is or tane, or ſaine.", "Bru. Sit thee downe, Clitus: ſlaying is the word,", "It is a deed in ſaſhion. Hearke thee, Clitus.", "Clit. What I, my Lord ? No, not for all the World.", "Bru. Peace then, no words.", "Clit. Ile rather kill my ſelfe.", "Bru. Hearke thee, Dardanius.", "Dard. Shall I doe ſuch a deed ?", "Clit. O Dardanius.", "Dart. O Clitus.", "Clit. What ill requeſt did Brutus make to thee ?", "Dard. To kill him, Clitus: looke he meditates.", "Clit. Now is that Noble Veffell full of grieſe,", "That it runnes over even at his eyes.", "Bru. Come hither, good Voluminiuſt, lift a word.", "Volum. What ſayes my Lord ?", "Bru. Why this, Voluminiuſt :", "The Ghoſt of Caſar hath appear'd to me", "Two ſeverall times by Night: at Sardis, once,", "And this laſt Night, here in Philippi fields :", "I know my houre is come.", "Volum. Not ſo, my Lord.", "Bru. Nay, I am ſure it is, Voluminiuſt.", "Thou ſeel't the world, Voluminiuſt, how it goes,", "Our Enemies have beaſt us to the Pit: Low Alarum.", "It is more worthy, to leape in our ſelves,", "Then tarry till they pufh us. Good Voluminiuſt,", "Thou knowſt, that we two went to Schoole together :", "Even for that our love of old, I prethee", "Hold thou my Sword Hilts, whileſt I runne on it.", "Vol. That's not an Office for a friend, my Lord.", {"bbox": [667, 1331, 7

The Tragedy of Julius Caesar.

150

Cly. Fly, flye my Lord, there is no tarrying heere.
Bru. Farewell to you, and you, and you Voluminous
Strato, thou haft bin all this while a fleece :
Farewell to thee, to Strato, Country men :
My heart doth joy, that yet all my life,
I found no man, but he was true to me.
I shall have glory by this loofing day
More then Ollavius, and Marke Antony,
By this vile Conqueft shall attaine unto.
So fareyouwell at once, for Brutus tongue
Hath almost ended his lives History :
Night hangs upon mine eyes, my Bones would reft,
That have but labour'd, to attaine this houre.

Alarum. Cry within, Flye, flye, flye.
Cly. Fly my Lord, flye,
Bru. Hence: I will follow:
I prethee Strato, fly thou by thy Lord,
Thou art a fellow of a good respect :
Thy life hath had some match of honor in it.
Hold then my Sword, and turne away thy face,"
While I doe run upon it. Wilt thou Strato ?
Stra. Give me your hand firſt. Fare you well my Lord.
Bru. Farewell good Strato. Caesar, now be ſtill,
I kill'd not thee with halfe so good a will.
Dyes.

Alarum. Retreat. Enter Antony, Ollavius, Messala, Lucillius, and the Army.

Olla. What man is that?

Messala. My maſters man. Strato, where is thy Maſter?
Stra. Free from the Bondage you are in Messala,
The Conquerors can but make a fire of him:
For Brutus onely overcame himſelfe,
And no man else hath honor by his death.

Luci. So Brutus should be found. I thanke thee Brutus
That thou haſt prov'd Lucillius ſaying true.

Olla. All that ferv'd Brutus, I will entertaine them,
Fellow, wilt thou beſtow thy time with me ?

Stra. I, if Messala will preferre me to you.

Olla. Doe so, good Messala.

Messala. How dyed my Strato.

Stra. I held the Sword, and he did run on it.

Messala. Ollavius, then take him to follow thee,
That did the lateſt ſervice to my Maſter.

Ant. This was the Nobleft Roman of them all :
All the Conspirators ſave onely he,
Did that they did, in envy of great Caſar :
He, onely in a generall honeſt thought,
And common good to all, made one of them.
His life was gentle, and the Elements
So mixt in him, that Nature might ſtand up,
And ſay to all the world; This was a man.

Olla. According to his Vertue, let us life him
Withall respect, and rites of Buriall.

Within my Tent his bones to night shall lye,
Moſt like a Souldier ordered honorably :

So call the field to reſt, and lets away,

To part the glories of this happy day.
Exeunt omnes.

FINIS.

THE TRAGEDIE OF
MACBETH.

Actus Primus. Scena Prima.

Thunder, and Lightning. Enter three Witches.

I

1 Hen fhall we three meet againe ?

In Thunder, Lightning, or in Raine ?

2 When the Hurley-burleys done,

When the Battailles loft and wonne.

3 That will be ere the set of Sunne,

1 Where the place ?

2 Vpon the Heath.

3 There to meet with Macbeth.

1 I come, Gray-Malkin.

All. Padocke calls anon: faire is foule, and foule is faire,

Hover through the fogge and filthy ayre.

Exeunt.

Scena Secunda.

Alarum within. Enter King, Malcolm, Donal-
baine, Lenox, with attendants, meeting
a bleeding Captaine.

King. What bloody man is that? he can report,
Afeemeth by his plight, of the Revolt
The newest fiate.

Mal. This is the Serjant,

Who like a good and hardy Souldier fought
Gainst my Captivity: Haile: haile brave friend ;

Say to the King, the knowledge of the broyle,
As thou didst leave it.

Cap. Doubtfull it flood,

As two pent Swimmers, that doe cling together,
And choake their Art: The mercileſſe Macdonnell

(Worthy to be a Rebell, for to that
The multiplying Villaines of Nature

Doe ſwarme upon him) from the Westerne Hles
Of Kernes and Gallow glaſſes is ſupply'd,
And Fortune on his damned Quarry smiling,

Shew'd like a Rebells Whore: but al's too weake:
For brave Macbeth (well he deferves that Name)
Difdayning Fortune, with his brandifht Steele,
Which (moak'd with bloody execution

(Like Valours Minion) carv'd out his paſſage,
Till he fac'd the Slave :

Which neuer ſhooke hands, nor bad farewell to him,
Till he unfeam'd him from the Nave toth' Chops,
And fix'd his head upon our Battlements.

King. O valiant Cousin, worthy Gentleman,
Cap. As whence the Sunne gins his reflection,

Shipwracking Stormes, and direfull Thunders breaking
So from that spring, whence comfort feem'd to come,
Difcomfort ſwells: Marke King of Scotland, marke,
No sooner juſtice had, with Valour arm'd,

Compell'd theſe skipping Kernes to truſt their heeles,
But the Norwegian Lord, ſurveying vantage,

With ſurbufht Armes, and new ſupplyes of men,
Began a fresh ſaffault.

King. Dif-maid not this our Captaines, Macbeth and
Banquoh ?

Cap. Yes, as Sparrowes Eagles ;

Or the Hare, the Lyon.

If I ſay ſooth, I muſt report they were

As Cannons over-charg'd with double Crackes

So they doubly redoubled ſtroakes on the Foe :

Except they meant to bathe in recking Wounds,

Or memorize another Golgotha,

I cannot tell: but I am faint,

My Gaſhes cry for helpe.

King. So well thy words become thee, as thy wounds
They imacke of Honor both: Goe get him Surgeons.

Enter Roffe and Angus.

Who comes here?

Mal. The worthy Thane of Roffe.

Lenox. What haſt lookes through his eyes?

So ſhould he looke, that ſeemes to Ipeake things ſtrange.

Roffe. God faveth the King.

King. Whence cam'it thou, worthy Thane ?

Roffe. From Fife, great King,

Where the Norwegian Bannars flowt the Sky,
And fanne our people cold.

Norway himſelfe, with terrible numbers,

Aſſited by that moſt diſloyall Traytor,

The Thane of Cawdor, began a diſmall Confliſt,

Till that Bellona's Bridegroome, lapt in proofe,

Confronted him with ſelſe-comparifons,

Point against Point, rebellious Arme gainſt Arme,

Curbing his lavilſh ſpirit: and to conclude,

The Victory fell on us,

King. Great happineſſe.

Roffe. That now Sweno, the Norwayes King,

Craves compoſition :

Nor would we deigne him buriall of his men,

Till he disburſed, at Saint Colmes-biſt,

Ten thouſand Dollars, to our generall uſe.

King.

The Tragedie of Macbeth.

152

King. No more that Thane of Cawdor shall deceive
Our Bofome interest: Goe pronounce his prefent death,
And with his former Title great Macbeth.

Rose. Ile fee it done.

King. What he hath loft, Noble Macbeth hath wonne.

Exeunt.

## Scena Tertia.

Thunder. Enter the three Witches.

1 Where haft thou been, Sifter ?

2 Killing Swine.

3 Sifter, where thou ?

1 A Saylors Wife had Cheftnuts in her Lappe,
And mouncht, and mouncht, and mouncht: 

Give me, quoth I.

Aroynt thee, Witch, the rumpe-fed Ronyon cryes.
Her husbands to Aleppo gone, Mafter oth' Tiger :

But in a Syve Ile thither fayle,
And like a Rat without a tayle,
Ile doe, Ile doe, and Ile doe.

2 Ile givethee a Wind.

1 Th'art kind.

3 And I another.

1 I my felfe have all the other,
And the very Ports they blow,
All the Quarters that they know.

Ith' Ship-mans Card.

Ile dreyne him dry as Hay :
Sleepe shall neither Night nor day
Hang upon his Pent-houfe Lid :

He shall live a man forbid :
Weary Seu'nights, nine times nine,
Shall he dwindle, peake, and pine :
Though his Barke cannot be loft,
Yet it shall be Tempeft-toft.

Looke what I have.

2 Shew me, ſhew me.

1 Here I have a Pilots Thumbe,
Wrackt, as homeward he did come.

Drum within.

3 A Drumme, a Drumme:

Macbeth doth come.

All. The wey ward Sifters, hand in hand,
Pofters of the Sea and Land.

Thus doe goe, about, about,
Thice to thine, and thrice to mine,
And thrice againe, to make up nine.
Peace, the Charme's wound up.

Enter Macbeth and Banquo.

Machb. So foule and faire a day I have not feene.

Banq. How farre is't call'd to Soris ? What are theſe,
So wither'd, and ſo wilde in their attyre,
That looke not like th'inhabitants oth' Earth,
And yet are on't? Live you, or are you aight
That man may queſtion ? you ſeeme to understand me,
By each at once her choppy finger laying
Vpon her skinny Lips: you ſhould be Women,
And yet your Beards forbid me to interpret
That you are ſo.

Mac. Speake if you can : what are you ?

1 All haile Macbeth, haile to thee Thane of Glamis

2 All haile Macbeth, haile to thee Thane of Cawdor.

3 All haile Macbeth, that ſhalt be King hereafter.

Banq. Good fir, why doe you ftart, and ſeeme to feare
Things that doe found ſo faire ? iſth' name of truth
Are ye fantaflicall, or that indeed

Which outwardly ye ſhew ? My Noble Partner
You greet with prefent Grace, and great prediction
Of Noble having, and of Royall hope,
That he ſeemes wrapt withall ; to me you ſpeake not.
If you can looke into the Seedes of Time,
And fay, which Graine will grow, and which will not.
Speake then to me, who neither begge, nor feare
Your favors, nor your hate.

1 Hayle.

2 Hayle.

3 Hayle.

1 Letter then Macbeth, and greater.

2 Not ſo happy, yet much happyer.

3 Thou ſhalt get Kings, though thou be none :

So all haile Macbeth, and Banquo.

1 Banquo, and Macbeth, all haile.

Machb. Stay you imperfect Speakers, tell me more:
By Sinells death, I know I am Thane of Glamis,
But how, of Cawdor ? the Thane of Cawdor lives
A pROPEROUS GENTLEMAN : And to be King,
Stands not within the pROPEST of beliefe,
No more then to be Cawdor. Say from whence
You owe this ſtrange Intelligence, or why
Vpon this blafped heath you ſtop our way
With ſuch Prophetique greeting ?

Witches vanifhe.

Speake, I charge you.

Banq. The earth hath bubbles, as the Water has,
And theſe are of them : whether are they vanifh'd?

Machb. Into the Ayre : and what ſeem'd corporall,
Melted, as breath into the Winde.

Would they had ſtaid.

Banq. Were ſuch things here, as we doe ſpeake about?

Or have we eaten on the infane Root,
That takes the Reafon Přifoner ?

Machb. Your Children ſhall be Kings.

Banq. You ſhall be King.

Machb. And Thane of Cawdor too: went it not to ?

Banq. Toth' ſelfe-fame tune, and words: whos here

Enter Rosse, and Angus.

Rosſe. The King hath happily receiv'd, Macbeth,
The newes of thy ſinceſſe ; and when he reades
Thy perfonall Venture in the Rebels fight,
His wonders and his Praifes too contend,
Which ſhould be thine, or his : ſienc'd with that,
In viewing o're the reſt o'th' ſelfe-fame day,
He findes thee in the ſtout Norweyan Rankes,
Nothing a feard of what thy ſelfe didſt make
Strange Images of death, as thicke as Tale
Can poſt with poſt, and every one did beare
Thy prayſes in his Kingdomes great defence,
And pow'r'd them downe before him.

Ang. We are ſent,
To give thee from our Royall Maſter thankes,
Onely to herrald thee into his fight,
Not pay thyself.

Rosſe. And for an earneſt of a greater honor,
He bad me, from him, call thee Thane of Cawdor :

In

The Tragedie of Macbeth.

In which addition, haile moft worthy Thane,
For it is thine.

Bang. What can the Devill speake true ?
Macb. The Thane of Cawdor lives:

Why doe you drefse me in his borrowed Robes ?
Ang. Who was the Thane, lives yet,
But under heavy judgement beares that life,
Which he deferves to loofe.

Whether he was combin'd with thofe of Norway,
Or elfe did lyne the Rebell with hidden helpe,
And vantage; or that with both he labour'd
In his Countryes wracke, I know not :

But Treafons Capitall, confes'd, and prou'd,
Have overthrowne him.

Macb. Glamis, and Thane of Cawdor:

The greatefl is behind. Thankes for your paines.
Doe you not hope your Children fhall be Kings,
When thofe that gave the Thane of Cawdor to me,
Promis'd no leffe to them.

Bang. That truſed home,

Might yet enkindle youunto the Crowne,
Befides the Thane of Cawdor. But is it ſtrange :

And offentimes, to winne us to our harme,
The Intruments of Darkneſſe tell us Truths,

Winne us with honeft Trifles, to betrays
In deepcſt conſequence.

Couſins, a word, I pray you.

Macb. Two trueths are told,

As happy Prologues to the ſwelling Aſte
Of the imperiall Theame. I thanke you Gentlemen :
This ſuper natural ſolliciting
Cannot be ill; cannot be good.

I fill ? why hath it given me earneſt of ſucceſſe,
Commencing in a Truth ? I am Thane of Cawdor.

If good ? why doe I yeeld to that ſuſſeſſion,
Whole horrid Image doth unſixe my heire,
And make my feared Heart knocke at my Ribbes,
Against the uſe of nature? Prefent Fears

Are leſſe then horrible imaginings :

My thought, whole Murther yet is but fantaſticall,
Shakes ſo my ſingle flate of Man,
That function is ſmother'd in furmife,
And nothing is, but what is not.

Bang. Looke how our Partners rapt.

Macb. If chance will have me King,
Why Chance may Crowne me,
Without my ſirre.

Bang. New honours come upon him

Like our ſtrange Garments, cleaven not to their mould,
But with the aid of uſe.

Macb. Come what come may,

Time, and the houre, runs through the rougheſt Day.

Bang. Worthy Macbeth, we lay upon your leyſure.

Macb. Give me your favour :

My doll Braine was wrought with things ſorgotten.

Kind Gentlemen, your paines are regilred,
Where every day I turne the Leafe,
To read them.

Let us toward the King; thinke upon
What hath chanc'd: and at more time,

The Interim having weigh'd it, let us ſpeake
Our free hearts each to other.

Bang. Very gladly,

Macb. Till then enough:
Come friends.

Exemnt.

## Scena Quarta.

Flourish. Enter King, Lenox, Malcolm,
Donalbaine, and Astendants.

King. Is execution done on Cawdor ?

Are not thofe in Commiffion yet return'd ?

Mal. My Liege, they are not yet come backe.

But I have ſpoke with one that faw him dye :

Who did report, that very frankly he

Confef'd his Treafons, implor'd your Highneſſe Pardon

And fet forth a deepe Repentance :

Nothing in his Life became him,

Like the leaving it. He dy'd,

As one that had beene ſtudied in his death,
To throw away the deareſt thing he ow'd,
Astwere a careleſſe Trifle.

King. There's no Art,

To finde the mindes conſtruction in the face :

He was a Gentleman, on whom I bailt

An absolute Truſt.

Enter Macbeth, Banquo, Rofle, and Angus.

O worthy ſouſin,

The finne of my ingratitude even now

Was heavy on me. Thou art ſo farre before,

That ſwifted Wine of Recompence is flow:

To overtake thee. Would thou hadt leſſe deferv'd,

That the proportion both of thankes, and payment,

Might have beene mine : onely I have left to ſay,

More is thy due, then more then all can pay.

Macb. The ſervice, and the loyalty I owe,
In doing it payes it ſelſe.

Your highneſſe part, is to receive our Duties :

And our Duties are to your Throine, and State,

Children, and Servants; which doe but what they ſhould

By doing every thing faſe toward your Love,

And honor,

King. Welcome hither :

I have begun to plant thee, and will labour

To make thee full of gro'ing. Noble Banquo,

That haſt no leſſe deferv'd, nor muſt be knowne

No leſſe to have done ſo : Let me enfold thee,

And hold thee to my heart,

Bang. There if I grow,

The Harveſt is your owne.

King. My plenteous joyes,

Wanton in ſulſeſſe, ſeeke to hide themſelues

In drops of ſorrow. Sonnes, Kinfman, Thanes,

And you wholeſe places are the neareſt, know,

We will eſtablish our Eſtate upon.

Our eldeſt, Malcolm, whom we name heareafter,

The Prince of Cumberland : which honor muſt
Not unaccompanied, inveſt him only.

But ſignes of Noblenſe, like Starres ſhall ſhine

On all defervers. From hence to Envernes,

And bind us further to you.

Mac. The Reſt is labour, which is not us'd for you :

Ile be my ſelſe the Herbenger, and make joy full

The hearing of my Wifc, with your approach :

So humbly take my leave.

King. My worthy Cawdor.

Macb. The Prince of Cumberland : that is a ſlep,
On which I muſt fall downe, or eſſe o're leape,

For

The Tragedie of Macbeth.

For in my way it lyes. Starres hide your fires,
Let not Light fee my blacke and deepe defires:
The eye winke at the hand :yet let that be,
Which the Eye feares, when it is doneto fee.
Exit.

King. True, worthy Banquo: he is full so valiant,
And in his commendations, I am fed:
It is a Banquet to me. Lets after him,
Whofe care is gone before, to bid us welcome:
It is a peereleffe Kinfman.
Exeunt.

## Scena Quinta.

Enter Macbeths Wife alone with a Letter.

Lady. They met me in the day of successe: and I have learn'd by the perfect report, they have more than them, then mortall knowledge. When I burnt in desire to question them further, they made themselves Ayre, into which they vanish'd. Whiles I food rapt in the wonder of it, came Missives from the King, who all hail'd me Thane of Cawdor by which Title before, these wenyward Sisters saluted me, and referred me to the comming on of time, with haile King that shall be. This have I thought good to deliver thee (my dearest Partner of Greatness) that thou mightst not loose the dues of rejoicing by being ignorant of what Greatness is promised thee. Lay it to thy heart, and farewell.

Glamis thou art, and Cawdor, and shall be
What thou art promis'd: yet doe I feare thy Nature,
It is too full o'th' Milke of humane kindneſſe,
To catch the neereft way. Thou wouldſt be great,
Art not without Ambition, but without
The illeſſe should attend it. What thou wouldſt highly,
That wouldſt thou holily: wouldſt not play faſſe,
And yet wouldſt wrongly winne.

Thouldſt have, great Glamis, that which cryes,
Thus thou muſt doe, if thou have it;
And that which rather thou doſt feare to doe,
Then wifheſt should be undone. High thee hither,
That I may powre my Spirits in thine Eare,
And chaſtſe with the valour of my Tongue
All that thee hinders from the Golden Round,
Which Fate and Metaphyſicall ayde doth ſeeme
To have thee crown'd withall.
Enter Messenger.

What is your tidings?

Mess. The King comes here to Night.

Lady. Thou'rt mad to fay it.

Is not thy Maſter with him? who, wer't ſo,
Would have inform'd for preparation.

Meff. So pleafe you, it is true: our Thane is comming
One of my fellowes had the ſpeed of him;
Who almoſt dead for breath, had ſcarcely more
Then would make up his Meſſage.

Lady. Give him tending,

He brings great newes.

The Raven himſelfe is hoarſe,
That croaketh the fatall entrance of Duncane
Vnder my Battlements. Come you Spirits,
That tend on mortall thoughts, unfex me here,
And fill me from the Crowne to the Toe, top-full
Of diſeſt Cruelty: make thicke my blood,
Stop up th'acceſſe and paſſage to Remorſe,
That no compuſtious viſitings of Nature

Shake my fell purpofe, nor keepe peace betweene
Th' effect, and hit. Come to my Womans Breſſes,
And take my Milke for Gall, you murth'ring Minifters,
Where-ever, in your fightleſſe subſtances,
You wait on Natures Mifchefe. Come thicke Night,
And pall thee in the dunneſt fmoake of hell,
That my keepe Knife fee not the Wound it makes,
Nor heaven peepe through the Blanket of the darke,
To cry, hold, hold.
Enter Macbeths.

Great Glamis, worthy Cawdor,
Greater then both, by the all-haile hereafter,
Thy Letters have tranſported me beyond
This ignorant preſent, and I feele now
The future in the inſtant.

Macb. My deareft Love,

Duncane comes here to Night.

« Lady. And when goes hence ?

Macb. To morrow, as he purpofes.

Lady. O never,

Shall Sunne that Morrow fee.

Your Face, my Thane, is as booke, where men
May reade if strange matters, to beguile the time.

Looke like the time, beare welcome in your Eye,
Your hand, your Tongue: looke like the innocent flower,
But be the Serpent under't. He that's comming,
Muſt be provided for : and you ſhall put
This Nights great buſineſſe into my diſpatch,
Which ſhall to all our Nights, and Days to come,
Give fölely for a vraigne ſway, and Maſterdome.

Macb. We will ſpeake further.

Lady. Only looke up cleare :

To alter favor, ever is to feare :

Leave all the reſt to me.

Exeunt.

## Scena Sexta.

Hobogees, and Torches. Enter King, Malcolm, Donalbain,
Banquo, Lenox, Macduffe, Roffe, Angu,
and Attenaamis.

King. This Caſſle hath a pleafant ſeat,
The ayre nimbly and widdely recommends it ſelfe
Vnto our gentle ſences.

Bang. This Gueſt of Summer,
The ſtemple-haunting Barlet does approve,
By his loued Manſonry, that the Heavens breath,
Smells woollye here: no Iutty frieze,
Buttrice, nor Coigne of Vantage, but this Bird
Hath made his pendant Bed, and procreant Cradle,
Where they muſt breed, and haunt: I have obſerv'd
The ayre is delicate.
Enter Lady.

King. See, fee, our honor'd Hofteſſe:
The love that followes us, fometime is our trouble,
Which ſtill we thanke as Love. Herein I teach you,
How you ſhall bid god-cyld us for your paines,
And thanke us for your trouble.

Lady. All our ſervice,

In every point twice done, and then done double,
Were poore, and ſingle Buſineſſe, to contend
Againſt that ſho honours deepe, and broad,
Wherewith your Majefty loads our houſe :
For that of old, and the late Dignities,
Heap'd up to them, we reſt your Hermites.

King.

The Tragedie of Macbeth.

155

**King.** Wherest the Thane of Cawder ?

**Wecourst him at the heeles, and had a purpofe**
**To be his Purveyor :** But he rides well,
**And his great Love (Tharpe at his Spurre) hath holpe him**
**To his home before us :** Faire and Noble Holfteffe
**We are your gueft to night.

**Lady.** Your Servants ever.

**Have theirs, themselves, and what is theirs in compfut,**
**To make their Audit at your hignefle Pleasure,**
**Still to returne your owne.

**King.** Give me your hand :

**Conduct me to mine Hoft we love him highly,**
**And shall continue, our Graces towards him.**

By your leave Holfteffe.

Exeunt.

## Scena Septima.

Ho-boyes.

Torchers.

**Enter a Sewer, and divers Servants with Difues and Service**
**over the Stage. Then enter Macbeth.**

**Mac.** If it were done, when it done, then twer well,
**It were done quickly :** if th'Affaffination
**Could trammell up the Confequence, and catch**
**With his furceafe, Succefle : that but this blow**
**Might be the be all, and the end all. Heere,**
**But heere, upon this Banke and Schoole of time,**
**We'll jampe the life to come. But in thefe Cafes,**
**We fill have judgement heere, that we but teach**
**Bloody inferences, which being taught, returne**
**To plague th'Ingredience of our poyfon'd Challice**
**To our owne lips.** Hes here in double truft ;
**Fufft, as I am his Kinfman, and his fubjeet,**
**Strong both againft the Deed :** then, as his Hoft,
**Who should againſt his Murtherer ſbut the doore,**
**Not beare the knife my ſelfe.** Besides, this Duncane
**Hath borne this Faculties to moecke :** hat bin
**So cleere in his great Office, that his Vertues**
**Will pleade like Angels, Trumpet-tongu'd againſt**
**The depepe damnation of his taking off :**

**And Pitty, like a naked Newborne-babe,**
**Striding the blaſt, or heavens Cherubin, hors'd**
**Vpon the fightleſſe Curiors of the Ayre,**
**Shall blow the horrid deed in every eye,**
**That teares ſhall drowne the winde.** I have no Spurre
**To pricke the fides of my intent, but onely**
**Vanting Ambition, which ore-leapes it ſelfe,**
**And fales on th'other.** Enter Lady.

**How now ?** What Newes?

**La.** He has almost ſuft: why have you left the chamber?

**Mac.** Hath he ask'd for me ?

**Lady.** Know you not, he has ?

**Mac.** We will proceed no further in this Bufineſſe :
**He hath honour'd me of late, and I have bought**
**Golden Opinions from all forts of people,**
**Which would be worne now in their neweſt gloſſe,**
**Not cauſide ſo ſoone.

**Lady.** Was the hope drunke,

**Wherein you dreft your ſelfe ?** hath it ſlept ſince ?
**And wakes it now to looke ſo greene, and pale,**
**At what it did ſo freely ?** From this time,
**Sich I account thy love.** Art thou affeare'd
**To be the fame in thine owne Act, and Valour,**
**As thou art in desire ?** Would it thou have that

**Which thou eſſeem't the Ornament of Life,**
**And live a Coward in thine owne Eſteeme ?**
**Letting I dare not, wait upon I would,**
**Like the poore Cat i'th'Addage.

**Macb.** Prethee peace :

**I dare doe all that may become a man,**
**Who dares no more, is none.**

**Lady.** What beaſt was't then

**That made you break this enterprize to me ?**
**When you durſt doe it, then you were a man :**
**And to be more then what you were, you would**
**Be ſo much more the man.** Nor time, nor place
**Did then adhere, and yet you would make both :**
**They have made themselves, and that their fitneſſe now**
**Do's unmake you.** I have given Sucke, and know
**How tender tis to love the Babe that milkes me,**
**I would, while it was ſmyling in my face,**
**Have pluckt my Nipple from his boneleſſe Gummes,**
**And dafſht the Branes out, had I but ſoſworne**
**As you have doneto this.

**Macb.** If we ſhould faile ?

**Lady.** We faile ?

**But fcrew your courage to the flicking place,**
**And we'll not faile :** when Duncan is a ſliffin,
**(Where to the rather ſhall his dayes hard Iourney**
**Soundly invite him) his two Chamberlaines**
**Will I with Wine, and Waffell, ſo convince,**
**That Memory, the Warder of the Braine,**
**Shall be a Fume, and the Receit of Reafon**
**A Lymbecke onely, when in Swinifh ſliffin,**
**Their drenched Natures lye as in a Death,**
**What cannot you and I performe upon**
**Th'unguarded Duncan ?** What not put upon
**His ſpungy Officers ? who shall beare the guilt**
**Of our great quell.

**Macb.** Bring forth Men-Children onely :
**For thy undaunted Mettle** ſhould compofe
**Nothing but Males.** Will it not be receiv'd,**
**When we have mark'd with blood that ſleep ſtwo**
**Of his owne Chamber, and us'd their very Daggers,**
**That they have don't ?**

**Lady.** Who dares receive it other,
**As we ſhall make our Griefes and Clamor rore,**
**Vpon his death ?**

**Macb.** I am fetſled, and bend up
**Each corporall Agent to this terrible Feat,**
**Away, and mocke the time with faireſt ſhow,**
**Falſe Face muſt hide what the falſe heart doth know.**

Exeunt.

## Actus Secuudus. Scena Prima.

**Enter Banquo, and Fleance, with a Torch**
**before him.**

**Bang.** How goes the Night, Boy ?

**Fleance.** The Moone is downe : I have not heard the
Clocke.

**Bang.** And ſhe goes downe at Twelve.

**Flean.** I take't, tis later, Sir.

**Bang.** Hold, take my Sword :

**There's Husbandry in Heaven,**
**Their Candles are all out :** take thee that too.

A

The Tragedie of Macbeth.

A heavy Summons lyes like Lead upon me,
And yet I would not fleepe :
Merciful Powers, refraine in me the curled thoughts
That Nature gives way to in repofe.

Enter Macbeth, and a Servant with a Toreb.

Give me my Sword: whos there?
Mach. A friend.
Bang. What Sir, not yet at reft? the Kings a bed.
He hath beene in unuual pleasure.
And lent forth a great Largeſe to your Offices.
This Diamond he greets your Wifewithall,
By the name of moſt kind hoſſeſe,
And flut it up in meaſureleſſe content.
Mach. Being unprepar'd,
Our will became the ſervant to defect,
Which eſſe should free have wrought.
Bang. Alls well.
I dreamt laſt Night of the three weyward Sifters:
To you they have ſhew'd ſome truth.
Mach. I thinke not of them :
Yet when we can intreat an houre to ſerve,
We would I'pend it in ſome words upon that Bufineſſe,
If you would graunt the time.
Ban. At your kindſt leſure.
Mach. If you ſhall cleave to my ſentent,
When tis, it ſhall make honor for you.
Bang. So Iloſe none,
In seeking to augment it, but full keepe
My boſome franchis'd, and Allegiance cleare,
I ſhall be counſail'd.
Mach. Good repofe the while.
Bang. Thankes Sir: the like to you. Exit Banquo.
Mach. Goe bid thy Miltreſſe, when my drinke is ready
She ſtrike upon the Bell. Get thee to bed. Exit.
Is this a dagger, which I ſee before me,
The handle toward my hand? Come, let me clutch thee:
I have thee not, and yet I ſee thee ſtill.
Art thou not fatall Vifion, ſenſible
To feeling, as to fight? or art thou but
A Dagger of the Minde, a falſe Creation,
Proceeding from the heat-oppreſſed Braine?
I ſee thee yet, in forme as palpable,
As this which now I draw.
Thou marſhalt me the way that I was going,
And fuch an inſtrument I was to uſe.
Mine eyes are made the fooles o'th'other Senſes,
Or eſſe worth all the reſt: I ſee thee ſtill;
And on thy blade, and Dudgeon, Gouts of blood,
Which was not to before. There's no ſuch thing:
It is the bloody Bufinſſe, which informes
Thus to mine eyes. Now ore the one halſe World
Nature ſeemes dead, and wicked Dreames abufe
The Curtain'd ſleepe: Witchcraft celebrates
Pale Heccates Offings: and wither'd Murther,
Alarum'd by his Centinell, the Wolfe,
Whofe howles his Waich, thus with his ſtealthy pace,
With Tarquins ravilhing ſides, towards his defigne
Moves like a Ghoſt. Thou ſowre and firme-ſet Earth
Heare not my ſteps, which they may walke, for ſeare
Thy very ſtones prate of my where-about,
And take the prefent horror from the time,
Which now ſutes with it. Whileſ I threat, he lives:
Words to the heat of deeds too cold breath gives.

A Bellrings.

I goe, and it is done : the bell invites me.
Heare it not, Danneane, for it is a Knell.
That ſummons thee to heaven, or to hell.

Exit.

Scena Secunda.

Enter Lady.

La. That which hath made them drunke, hath made me
What hath quench'd them, hath given me fire. (bold :
Hearke, peace: it was the Owle that ſhriek'd,
The fatall Bell-man, which gives the ſtern'ſt good-night,
He is about it, the Doores are open :
And the furſeted Groomes doe mocke their charge
With Snores. I have drugg'd their Poffets,
That death and Nature doe contend a bout them,
Whether they live, or dye.

Enter Macbeth.

Mach. Whosthere? what hoa ?
Lady. Alacke, I am afraid they have awak'd,
And tis not done : that attempt, and not the deed,
Confounds us: hearke : I laid their Daggers ready,
He could not miſſe em. Had he not reſembled
My father as he ſlept, I had don't.
My husband?

Mach. I have done the deed :
Didſt thou not heare a noyſe?
Lady. I heard the Owle chreame, and the Crickets cry
Did not you ſpeake?

Mach. When?

Lady. Now.

Mach. As I defcended?

Lady. I.

Mach. Hearke, who lyes i'th'ſecond Chamber?

Lady. Donalbaine.

Mach. This is a forry fight.

Lady. A foolish thought, to ſay a forry fight.

Mach. There's one did laugh iſns ſleepe,

And one cry'd Murther, that they did wake each other:
I ſlood, and heard them: but they did ſay their Prayers,
And addreſt them againe to ſleepe.

Lady. There are two lodg'd together.

Mach. One cry'd God bleſſe us, and Amen the other,
As they had ſeene me with theſe hangmans hands :
Lifthning their ſeare, I could not ſay Amen,
When they did ſay God bleſſe us.

Lady. Conſider it not ſo deeply.

Mach. But wherefore could not I pronounce Amen?
I had moſt need of bleſſing, and Amen ſtuck in my throat

Lady. Theſe deeds muſt not be thought

After theſe wayes: to, it will make us mad.

Mach. Me thought I hearda voyce cry, ſleepe no more:
Macheth does murther Sleepe, the innocent ſleepe,
Sleepe that knits up the ravel'd ſleeve of Care,
The death of each dayes Life, ſore Labors Bath,
Balme of hurt Mindes, great Natures ſecond Courſe,
Chieſe nouriſher in lifeſe ſeaſt.

Lady. What does you meane ?

Mach. Still it cry'd, ſleepe no more to all the houſe:
Glamis hath murther'd ſleepe, and therefore Camdor
Shall ſleepe no more: Macheth shall ſleepe no more.

Lad. Who was it, that thus cry'd ? why worthy Thane,
You doe unbend your Noble ſtrength, to thinke
So braine-fickly of things: Goe get ſome Water,

And

The Tragedy of Macbeth

157

And waſh this filthy Witneſſe from your Hand,
Why did you bring theſe Daggers from the place?
They muſt lye there: goe carry them, and ſmeare
The ſleepy Groomes with blood.

Mach. He goe no more :

I am afraid, to thinke what I have done :
Looke on't againe, I dare not.

Lady. Inſirme of purpofe :
Give me the Daggers: the ſleeping, and the dead,
Are but as Pictures: 'tis the Eye of Child-hood,
That ſeaſe a painted Divell. If he doe bleed,
I'll guide the Faces of the Groomes withall,
For it muſt ſeeme their Guilt.

Exit.

Knock within.

Mach. Whence is that knocking ?

How is't with me, when every noyſe appalls me ?
What Hands are here ? hah: they plucke out mine Eyes
Will all great *Neptunes* Ocean waſh this blood
Cleane from my Hand: no: this my Hand will rather
The multitudinous Seas incarnardine,
Making the Greene one, Red.

Enter Lady.

Lady. My hands are of your colour: but I ſhame

To weare a heart ſo white. Knocke.

I heare a knocking at the South entry :

Retyre we to our Chamber :
A little Water cleares us of this deed.

How eafe is it then ? your Conſtancie

Hath left you unattended, Knocke.
Hearke, more knocking.

Get on your Night-Gowne, left ocaſion call us,

And fewh's to be Watchers: be not loſt

So poorly in your thoughts.

Mach. To know my deed,

'Twere beſt not know my ſelfe.

Wake Duncan with thy knocking :

I would thou could'ſt.

Exeunt.

## Scena Tertia.

Enter a Porter.

Knocking within.

Porter. Heere's a knocking indeed: if a man were
Porter of Hell Gate, hee should have old turning the
Key. *Knocke.* Knock, Knock, Knock. Who's there
i'th name of Belzebub ? Here's a Farmer, that hang'd
himſelfe on th'expectation of Plenty: Come in time, have
Napkins enough about you, here you'le weat for't. *Knock.*
Knock, Knock. Who's there in th'other Devils Name ?
Faith here's an Equivocator, that could ſware in both
the Scales, againſt eyther Scale, who committed Treason
enough for Gods ſake, yet could not equivocate to Hea-
ven: oh come in, Equivocator, *Knock.* Knock,
Knock, Knock. Who's there ? Faith here's an English
Taylor come hither, for weſting out of a French Hole:
Come in Taylor, here you may roſt your Goofe. *Knock.*
Knock, Knock. Never at quiet: What are you? but this
place is too cold for Hell. Ile Devill-Porter it no further:
I had thought to have let in ſome of all proſeffions, that
goe the Primroſe way to th'everlaſting Bonfire. *Knock.*
Anon, anon, I pray you remember the Porter.

Enter Macduff, and Lenox.

Mach. Was it ſo late, friend, ere you went to Bed,
That you doe lye ſo late ?

Port. Faith Sir, we were carowſing till the ſecond Cock:
And Drinke, Sir, is a great provoker of three things.

Mach. What three things does Drinke eſpecially
provoke ?

Port. Marry, Sir, Noſe-painting, Sleepe, and Vrinc.
Lechery, Sir, it provokes, and unprovokes: it Provokes
the defire, but it takes away the performance. Therefore
much Drinke may be ſaid to be an Equivocator with Le-
chery: it makes him and his marres him: it fet him on,
and it takes him off; it perſwades him, and diſheartens
him: makes him ſtand to, and not ſtand to: in concluſion,
equivocates him in a ſleepe, and giving him the Lye, leaves
him.

Mach. I beleeve, Drinke gave the Lye laſt Night.

Port. That it did, Sir, i'the very Throat on me : but I
requited him for his Lye, and (I think) being too ſtrong
for him, though he tooke up my Legges ſometime, yet I
made a Shift to caſt him.

Enter Macbeth.

Mach. Is thy Maſter flirring ?

Our knocking ha's awak'd him; here he comes.

Lenox. Good morrow, Noble Sir.

Mach. Good morrow both.

Mach. Is the King flirring, worthy Thane ?

Mach. Not yet.

Mach. He did command me to call timely on him,
I have almost flipt the houre.

Mach. Ile bring you to him.

Mach. I know this is a ioy ſull trouble to you :

But yet 'tis one.

Mach. The labour we delight in, Phyſicks paine :
This is the Doore.

Mach. Ile make ſo bold to call, for 'tis my limited
ſervice. Exit Macduff.

Lenox. Goes the King hence to day.

Mach. He does: he did appoint ſo.

Lenox. The Night ha's beene vnruly :

Where we lay, our Chimneys were blowne downe.

And (as they ſay) lamentings heard i'th'Ayre;

Strange Schreemes of Death,

And Prophecying, with Accents terrible,

Of dyre Combultions and confus'd Events,

New hatch'd toth'wofull time.

The obſcnre Bird clamor'd the live-long Night,

Some ſays, the Earth was favorons,

And did ſhake.

Mach. 'Twas a rough Night.

Lenox. My young remembrance cannot parallelle
A fellow to it.

Enter Macduff.

Mach. O horror, horror, horror,

Tongue nor Heart cannot conceive, nor name thee,

Mach. and Lenox. What's the matter ?

Mach. Conſuſion now hath made his Maſter-peece:

Moft facrilegious Murther hath broke ope

The Lords anoynted Temple, and ſtole thence

The Life o'th' Building.

Mach. What is't you ſay ? the Life ?

Lenox. Meane you his Maieſtie ?

Mach. Approch the Chamber, and deſtroy your fight
With a new Gorgon. Doe not bid me ſpeak :

See,

The Tragedie of Macbeth.

158

See, and then I speake your selves : awake, awake,

Exeunt Macbeth and Lenox.

Ring the Alarum Bell: Murther, and Treafon,
Banquo, and Donalbaine: Málcolme awake,
Shake off this Downy sleepe, Deaths counterfeit,
And looke on death it selfe: up, up, and fee
The great Doomes Image: Malcolm, Banquo,
As from your Graves rite up, and walke like Sprights,
To countenance this horror. Ring the Bell.

Bell Rings. Enter Lady.

Lady. What's the bufinesse ?

That luch a hideous Trumpet calls to parley
The sleepers of the Houfe ? I speake, I speake,

Maecl. O gentle Lady,

'Tis not for you to heare what I can speake :
The repetition in a Womans eare,
Would murther as it fell.

Enter Banquo.

O Banquo, Banquo, Our Royall Mafter's murther'd.

Lady. Woe, alas :

What, in our houfe ?

Ban. Too cruell, any where.

Deare Duff, I prythee contract thy selfe,
And fay, it is not so.

Enter Macbeth, Lenox, and Roffe.

Mach. Had I but dy'd an houre before this chance,
I had liv'd a blessed time : for from this instant,
There's nothing ferious in Mortality :

All is but Toyes: Renowne and Grace is dead,
The Wine of Life is drawne, and the meere Lees
Is left this Vault to brag of.

Enter Malcolm and Donalbaine.

Donal. What is amiffle ?

Mach. You are and doe not know't :

The Spring, the Head, the Fountaine of your Blood
Is flopt; the very Source of it is flopt,

Maecl. Your Royall Father's murther'd.

Mal. Oh, by whom ?

Lenox. Thole of his Chamber, as it feem'd, had don't:
Their Hands and Faces were all badg'd with blood,
So were their Daggers, which unwip'd, we found
Vpon their Pillowes : they star'd, and were diftracted,
No mans life was to be trufted with them.

Mach. O, yet I do repent me of my furie,
That I did kill them.

Maecl. Wherefore did you fo ?

Mach. Who canbe wife, amaz'd, temp'rate, & furious,
Loyall, and Neutrall, in a moment ? No man :
Th'expedition of my violent Love
Out-run the pawfer, Reafon. Here lay Duncan,
His Silver skinne, lac'd with his Golden Blood,
And his gash'd Stabs, look'd like a Breach in Nature,
For Ruines wallfull entrance : there the Murtherers,
Steep'd in the Colours of their Trade ; their Daggers
Vnmannerly breech'd with gore : who could refraine,
That had a heart to love, and in that heart,

Courage, to make's love knowne ?

Lady. Helpe me hence, hoa,

Maecl. Looke to the Lady,

Mal. Why do we hold our tongues,

That moft may claime this argument for ours?

Donal. What should be I spoken here,

Where our Fate hid within an augure hole,
May rufh, and feize us ? Let's away.

Our Teares are not yet brew'd.

Maecl. Nor our strong Sorrow

Vpon the foote of Motion,

Banq. Looke to the Lady :

And when we have our naked Frailties hid,
That fuffer in expofure ; let us meet,

And queftion this moft bloody piece of worke,
To know it further. Feares and ſeruples shake us :
In the great Hand of God I ſtand, and thence,
Agamit the undivulg'd pretence I fight

Of Treafonous Malice.

Maecl. And ſo doe I.

All. So all.

Maecl. Let's briefly put on manly readinesse,

And meet i'th' Hall together.

All. Well contented,

Exeunt.

Maecl. What will you doe ?

Let's not confort with them :

To ſhew an unfelt Sorrow, is an Office

Which the falle man do's eafe.

Ile to England.

Don. To Ireland, I :

Our leperated fortune fhall keepe us both the faſer:
Where we are, there's Daggers in mens Smiles ;
The neere in blood, the neerest bloody.

Maecl. This murtherous Shaſt that's ſhot,
Hath not yet lighted ; and our faſeft way,

Is to avoid the ayne. Therefore to Houſe,

And let us not be dainty of leave-taking,

But shift away : there's warrant in that Theft,

Which ſteales it ſelfe, when there's no mercie left.

Exeunt.

## Scena Quarta.

Enter Roffe, with an Old man.

Old man. Threecore and ten I can remember well,
Within the volume of which Time, I have feene
Houres dreadfull, and things ſtrange: but this fore Night
Hath trifled former knowings.

Roffe. Ha, good Father,

Thou feef't the heavens, as troubled with mans Aſt,

Threatens his bloody Stage : by th' Clock tis Day,

And yet darke Night ſtranges the travailing Lampc :

Ist Nights predominance, or the Dayes ſhame,

That darkenesſe does the face of Earth intombe,

When living Light shall kiffe it ?

Oldman. 'Tis unnaturally,

Even like the deed that's done : on Tuesday laſt,

A Faulcon towring in her pride of place,

Was by a Mowſing Owle hawkt at, and kill'd

Roffe. And Duncans Horſes,

(A thing moſt ſtrange, and certaine)

Beauteous, and Iwift, the Minions of their Race,
Turn'd wide in nature, broke their ftalls, flong out,
Contending 'gainſt Obedience, as they would

Make warre with Mairkinde.

Old man. 'Tis faſd, they eate each other.

Roffe. They did ſo :

To

The Tragedy of Macbeth.

159

Toth'amazement of mine eyes that look'd upon't.
*Enter Macduffe.*

Heere comes the good Macduffe.

How goes the world Sir, now ?

*Macd.* Why fee you not ?

*Roffe.* Is't known who did this more then bloody deed?

*Macd.* Thoſe that *Macbeth* hath flaine.

*Roffe.* Alas the day,

What good could they pretend ?

*Macd.* They were ſubborned,
Malcolme, and Donalbaine the Kings two Sonnes
Are ſolne away and ſied, which puts upon them
Sufpition of the deed.

*Roffe.* 'Gainſt Nature ſtill,
Thrifleſſe Ambition, that will raven upon
Thine owne life means: Then 'tis moſt like,
The Soveraignty will fall upon *Macbeth*.

*Macd.* He is already nam'd, and gons to Scone

Tobe inveſted.

*Roffe.* Where is *Duncans* body ?

*Macd.* Carried to Colmekill,

The Sacred Store-houſe of his Predeceſſors,
And Guardian of their Bones.

*Roffe.* Will you to Scone ?

*Macd.* No Cofin, Ile to Fife.

*Roffe.* Well, I will thither:

*Macd.* Well may you fee things well done there: Adieu
Left our old Robes fit eſtler then our new.

*Roffe.* Farewell, Father.

Old M. Gods benyſon go with you fir, and with thofe
That would make good of bad, and Friends of Foes.

*Exeunt omnes.*

## Albus Tertius. Scena Prima.

*Enter Banquo.*

*Banq.* Thou haſt it now, King, Cawdor, Glamis, all,
As the wayward Woman promis'd, and I feare
Thou plaid 't moſt foully for't: yet it was faid
It should not ſtand in thy Pafterity,
But that my ſelfe should be the Roote, and Father
Of many Kings. If there come truth from them,
As upon thee *Macbeth*, their Speeches ſhine,
Why by the verities on thee made good,
May they not be my Oracles as well,
And ſet me up in hope. But hufh, no more.

*Seni ſonnded. Enter Macbeth as King, Lady Lenox, Roffe, Lords, and Attendants.*

*Mach.* Heere's our chieſe Gueſt.

*La.* If he had beene forgotten,
It had beene as a gap in our great Feaſt,
And all-things unbecomming.

*Mach.* To night we hold a ſolemne Supper, fir,
And Ile requeſt your prefence
*Bang.* Let your Highneſſe
Command upon me, to the which my duties
Are with a moſt indiſſoluble ſye
For ever knit.

*Mach.* Ride you this afternoone ?

*Ban.* I, my good Lord.

*Mach.* We should have eſſe deſir'd your good advice

(Which ſtill hath been both grave, and proſperous)
In this dayes Councell; but wee'le take to morrow.

Is't farre you ride?

*Ban.* As farre, my Lord, as will fill up the time
Twixt this, and Supper. Goe not my Horſe the better,
I muſt become a borrower of the Night,

For a darke houre or twaine.

*Mach.* Faiſe not our Feaſt.

*Ban.* My Lord, I will not.

*Mach.* We heare our bloody Cozens are beſtow'd
In England, and in Ireland, not confefſing
Their cruell Parricide, filling their hearers
With ſtrange inuention. But of that to morrow,
When therewithall we ſhall have cauſe of State,

Craving us joyntly. Hye you to horſe :

Adieu, till you returne at Night.

Goes Fleance with you?

*Ban.* I, my good Lord: our time does call upon's.

*Machb.* I with your Horſes ſwift, and ſure of foot :
And to I doe commend you to their backs.

Farwell.

*Exit Banquo.*

Let every man be maſter of his time,
Till feaven at Night, to make ſociety

The fweeter welcome :

We will keepe our ſelfe till Supper time alone:
While then, God be with you.

*Exeunt Lords.*

Sirrha, a word with you: Attend thofe men
Our pleafure?

*Servant.* They are, my Lord, without the Palace
Gate.

*Machb.* Bring them before us. *Exit Servant.*

To be thus, is nothing, but to be faſely thus:
Our feares in *Banquo* ſticke deepe,

And in his Royalty of Nature reignes that
Which would be fear'd. Tis much he dares,
And to that dauntleſſe temper of his Minde,
He hath a Wifdome, that doth guide his Valour,

To act in ſafetie. There is none but he,
Whole being I doe feare: and under him,

My *Genius* is rebuk'd, as it is faid

*Mark Anthonies* was by *Cefar*, He chid the Sifters,
When firſt they put the Name of King upon me
And bad them ſpeake to him. Then Propher-like.
They hayld him Father to a Line of Kings.

Vpon my head they plac'd a fruitleſſe Crowne,
And put a barren Scepter in my Gripe,

Thence to be wrencht with an unlineall Hand,
No Sonne of mine ſucceeding: iſ' t be ſo,
For *Banquo's* Iſſue have I, ſi'd my Minde,

Fot them, the gracions *Duncan* have I murther'd,
Put Rancours in the Veffell of my Peace
Onely for them, and mine eternall lewell
Given to the common Enemy of Man,

To make them Kings, the ſeedes of *Banquo* Kings:
Rather then ſo, come Fate into the Lyſt,
And champion me to th' utterance.

Who's there ?

*Enter Servant, and two Murtherers.*

Now goe to the Doore, and flay there till we call.

*Exit Servant.*

Was it not yefterday we ſpoke together ?

*Murthb.* It was, to pleaſe your Highneſſe.

*Machb.* Well then,

Now have you confider'd of my ſpeeches ?

002

Knows

160

The Tragedie of Macbeth.

Know, that it was he, in the times palt,
Which held you so under fortune,
Which you thought had beene our innocent selfe,
This I made good to you, in our last conference,
Palt in probation with you :
How you were borne in hand, how croft :
The Instruments ; who wrought with them :
And all things elfe, that might
To halfe a Soule, and to a Notion craz'd,
Say, Thus did Banquo.

1. Murth. You made it knowne to us.

Mach, I did so :

And went further, which is now
Our point of second meeting.
Doe you finde your patience so predominant,
In your nature, that you can let this goe?
Are you so Gofpell'd to pray for this good man,
And for his Influence, whose heavy hand
Hath bow'd you to the Grave, and begger'd
Yours for ever?
1. Murth. We are men, my Liege.
Mach. I, in the Catalogue ye goe for men,
As Hounds, and Greyhounds, Mungrels, Spaniels, Curres,
Showghes, Water-Rugs, and Demy-Wolves are clipt
All by the Name of Dogges : the valued file
Diftinguifies the swift, the flow, the subtle,
The Houfe-keeper, the Hunter, every one
According to the gift, which bounteous Nature
Hath in him clos'd ; whereby he does receive
Particular addition, from the Bill,
That writes them all alike : and so of men.
Now, if you have a flatation in the file,
Not in'th' worst rank of Manhood, lay't,
And I will put that Bufineſſe in your Bofomes,
Whofe execution takes your Enemie off,
Grapples you to the heart ; and love of us,
Who weare our Health but fickly in his Life,
Which in his Death were perfect.

2. Murth. I am one my Liege,

Whom the vile Blowes and Buffets of the World
Hath so incens'd, that I am reckleſſe what I doe,
To spight the World.

1. Murth. And I another,

So wearie with Difalters, tugg'd with Fortune,
That I would fet my Life on any Chance,
To mend it or be rid on't.

Mach. Both of you know Banquo was your Enemie.

Murth. True, my Lord.

Mach. So is he mine : and in fuch bloody diſtance,

That every minute of his being, thrifts
Againft my neer'ft of Life: and though I could
With bare-fac'd power e'weepe him from my fight,
And bid my will avouch it; yet I muſt not,
For certaine friends that are both his, and mine,
Whofe loves I may not drop, but wayle his fall,
Who I my ſelſe trucke downe: and thence it is,
That I to your affiſiance doe make love,
Masking the Bufineſſe from the common Eye,
For fundry weightie Reaſons.

2. Murth. We ſhall, my Lord,

Performe what you command us.

1. Murth. Though our Lives—

Mach. Your Spirits ſhine through you.

Within this houre, at muſt,

I will advise you where to plant your ſelves,
Acquaint you with the perfect Spy o'th' time,

The moment on't, for't muſt be done to Night,
And something from the Palace : always thought,
That I require a cleareneſſe ; and with him,
To leave no Rubs nor Boches in the Worke :
Fleans, his Sonne, that keepes him companie,
Whofe absence is noleſſe materiall to me,
Then is his Fathers, muſt embrace the fate
Of that darke houre : refolue your ſelves apart,
Ile come to you anon.

Murth. We are refolu'd, my Lord.

Mach. Ile call upon you ſtraight : abide within,
It is concluded : Banquo, thy Soules flight,
If it finde Heaven, muſt finde it out to Night.
Exeunt.

## Scena Secunda,

Enter Macbeths Lady, and a Servant.

Lady. Is Banquo gone from Court?

Servant. I, Madame, but returns againe to Night.

Lady. Say to the King, I would attend his leyſure,
For a few words.

Servant. Madame, I will.

Exit.

Lady. Nought's had, all's ſpent,
Where our desire is got without content :
'T is faſer, to be that which we deftroy,
Then by deſtruction dwell in doubtfull joy.

Enter Macbeth.

How now, my Lord, why doe you keepe alone?
Of forryeſt Francies your Companions making,
Vifing thatſe Thoughts, which ſhould indeed have dy'd
With them they thinke on: things without all remedie
Should be without regard: what's done, is done.

Mach. We have ſcorch'd the Snake, not kill'd it:
Shee'le cloſe, and be her ſelſe, whileſt our poore Malice
Remaines in danger of her former Tooth.
Butlet the frame of things diſ-joynt,
Both the Worlds ſuffer,
Ere we will eate our Meale in feare, and ſleepe
In the affiſtance of theſe terrible Dreames,
That ſhake us Nightly: Better be with the dead,
Whom we, to gayne our place, have ſent to peace:
Then on the torture of the Minde to lye
In reſtleſſe extraſe:

Duncane is in his Grave.
After Lifes fitfull Fever, he ſleepes well,
Treason ha's done his worſt : nor Steele nor Poyſon,
Malice domeſtique, forraigne Levie, nothing,
Can touch him further.

Lady. Come on :

Gentle my Lord, ſleeke o're your rugged Lookes,
Be bright and Ioviall:mong your Gueſts to Night.
Mach. So ſhall I Love, and so I pray be you:

Let your remembrance ſtill apply to Banquo,
Prefent him Eminence, both with Eye and Tongue:
Unſaſe the while, that we muſt lave
Our Honors in theſe flattering ſtreames,
And make our Faces Vizards to our Hearts,
Dilguifing what they are.

Lady. You muſt leave this.

Mach, O, full of Scorpions is my Minde, deare Wife:
Thou know'ſt, that Banquo and his Feans lives.

Lady. But

The Tragedy of Macbeth.

161

Lad. But in them, Natures Coppie's not eterne.
Macb. I here's comfort yet, they are affaireable,
Then be thou jocund; ere the Bat hath flowne
His Cloyfer'd flight, ere to blacke Pecents fummons
The fhard-borne Beetle, with his drowfie hums,
Hath rung Nights yawning Peale,
There shall be done a deed of dreadfull note.

Lady. What's to be done?

Macb: Be innocent of the knowledge, deareft Chuck,
Till thou applaud the deed: Come, feeling Night,
Skarfe up the tender Eye of pitfull Day,
And with thy bloody and invifible Hand
Cancell and teare to pieces that great Bond,
Which keepes me pale. Light thicksens,
And the Crow makes Wing to th' Rookie Wood:
Good things of Day begin to droope, and drowfe,
Whiles nights blacke Agents to their Prey's doe rowfe,
Thou marvell'd at my words: but hold thee still,
Things bad begun, make strong themfelves by ill :
So prythee goe with me.
Exeunt.

## Scena Tertia.

Enter three murtherers.

1. But who did bid thee joyne with us ?

3. Macbeth.

2. Heneedges not our miftruft, fince he delivers

Our Offices, and what we have to doe,

To the direction juft.

1. Then stand with us.

The Weft yet gimmers with fome ftreakes of Day.

Now purtres the lateft Traveller apace,

To gayne the timely Inne, and neere approaches

The fubject of our Watch.

3. Hearke, I heare Horſes.

Banquo within. Give us a Light there, hoo.

2. Then'is hee :

The reft, that are within the note of expectation,
Already are i'th' Court.

1. His Horſes goe about.

3. Almost a mile: but he does ufually,

So all men doe, from hence to th' Pallace Gate

Make it their Walke.

Enter Banquo and Fleans, with a Torch.

2. A Light, a Light.

3. 'Tis hee,

1. Stand too't.

Ban. It will be Rayne to Night.

1. Let it come downe.

Ban. O, Trecherie !

Flye god Fleans, flye, flye, flye,

Thou may'tt revenge. O Slave !

3. Who did (rike out the Light ?

1. Was't not the way ?

3. There's but one downe : the Sonne is fled.

2. We have loft

Belt halfce of our Affaire.

1. Well, let's away, and fay how much is done.

Exeunt.

## Scæna Quarta.

Banques prepar'd. Enter Macbeth, Lady, Roffe, Lenox,
Lords, and Attendants.

Macb. You know your owne degrees, fit downe:

At first and laft, the hearty welcome.

Lords. Thankes to your Majefty.

Macb. Our felfe will mingle with Society,

And play the humble Hoft :

Our Holfteſe kceeps her State, but in the beſt time
We will require her welcome.

La. Pronounce it for me Sir, to all our Friends,
For my heart ſpeakes, they are welcome.

Enter first Murtherer.

Macb. See they encounter thee with their hearts thanks

Both fides are even: heere Ile fit i'th' mid'ft,

Be large in mirth, anon wee'l drinke a Meafure

The Table round. There's blood upon thy face.

Mur. 'Tis Banquo's then.

Macb. 'Tis better thee without, then he within.

Is he diſpatch'd?

Mur. My Lord his throat is cut, that I did for him:

Mac. Thou art the beſt o'th' Cut-throats,

Yet hee's good that did the like for Fleans :

If thou did'it, thou art the Non-pareill.

Mur. Moſt Royall Sir

Fleans is ſcap'd.

Macb. Then comes my Fit againe :

I had eſſe beene perfect;

Whole as the Marble, founded as the Rocke,

As broad, and generall, as the cafing Ayre :

But now I am cabin'd, crib'd, confin'd, bound in

To ſawcy doubts, and feares. But Banquo's faſe ?

Mur. I, my good Lord : faſe in a ditch he bides,

With twenty trenched gathes on his head ;

The leaſt a Death to Nature.

Macb. Thankes for that,

There the growne Serpent lyes, the worme that's fled

Hath Nature that in time will Venom breed,

No teeth for th' preſent. Get thee gone, to morrow

Wee'l heare our ſelves againe.

Lady. My Royall Lord,

You do not give the Cheere, the Feaſt is ſold

That is not often vouch'd, while't is making:

Tis given, with welcome : to feede were beſt at home:

From thence, the fawce to meate is Ceremony,

Meeting werebare without it.

Exit Murderer.

Enter the Ghost of Banquo, and fit in Macbeths place.

Macb. Sweet Remembrancer :

Now good digeſion waite on Appetite,
And health on both.

Lenox. May't pleafe your Highneſſe fit.

Macb. Here had we now our Countries Honor, roof'd,

Were the grac'd perſon of our Banquo preſent :

Who may I rather challenge for unkindneſſe,

Then pitty for Mifchance.

Roffe. His abſence (Sir)

Layes blame upon his promife. Pleas't your highneſſe

To grace us with your Royall Company ?

Macb.

003

["The Tragedie of Macbeth.", "162", "Macb. The Table's full.", "Lenox. Here is a place referred to Sir.", "Mach. Where?", "Lenox. Heree my good Lord.", "What is't that moves your Highnesse ?", "Macb. Which of you have done this?", "Lords. What, my good Lord?", "Macb. Thou canst not say I did it; never shake", "Thy goary lockes at me,", "Rosse. Gentlemen rife, his Highnesse is not well.", "Lady. Sit worthy Friends: my Lord is often thus,", "And hath beene from his youth. Pray you keepe Seate,\nThe fit is momentan; upon a thought", "He will againe be well. If much you note him\nYou shall offend him, and extend his Paffion,\nFeed, and regard him not. Are you a man ?", "Macb. I, and a bold one, that dare looke on that\nWhich might appall the Divell.", "La. O proper fluffe :", "This is the very painting of your fears :", "This is the Ayre-drawne-Dagger which you faid", "Led you to Duncan. O, thefe flawes and flarts\n(Impofters to true feare) would well become", "A womans flory at a Winters fire", "Authoriz'd by her Grandam : flame it selfe,\nWhy do you make such faces ? When all's done\nYou looke but on a fttole.", "Macb. Pryth thee see there :", "Behold, looke, loe, how say you :", "Why what care I, if thou canst nod, speake too.", "If Charnell houfes, and our Graves muft feed", "Thofe that we bury, backe; our Monuments", "Shall be the Mawes of Kytes.", "Exit Ghost.", "La. What? quite unmann'd in folly.", "Macb. If I hand heere, I saw him.", "La. Fie for flame.", "Macb, Blood hath bene shed ere now, i'th'olden time", "Ere humane Statute purg'd the gentle Weale :", "I, and since too, Murthers have bene perform'd", "Too terrible for the care. The times have beene,", "That when the Braines were out, the man would dye,\nAnd there an end : But now they rife againe", "With twenty mortall murthers on their crownes,", "And pufh us from our ftlooes. This is more strange", "Then such a murther is.\nLa. My worthy Lord", "Your Noble Friends do lacke you.", "Macb. I do forget :", "Do not mufe at me, my moft worthy Friends,", "I have a strange infirmity, which is nothing", "To thofe that know me. Come, love and health to all,", "Then Ile fit downe : Give me some Wine, fill full:", "Enter Ghoſt.", "I drinke to th' generall joy o'th' whole Table,", "And to our deere Friend Banquo, whom we miffed :", "Would he were heere ; to all; and him we thirt, And all to all.", "Lords. Our duties, and the pledge.", "Mac. Auant, & quit my fight, let the earth hide thee:", "Thy bones are marrowleſſe, thy blood is cold :", "Thou haſt no ſpeculation in thofe eyes", "Which thou doſt glare with.", "La. Thinke of this good Peeres", "But as a thing of Cuftome : 'Tis no other,\nOncely it ſpoyles the pleasure of the time.", "Macb. What man dare, I dare :", "Approach thou like the rugged Ruffian Beare,\nThe arm'd Rhinoceros, or th' Hircan Tiger,\nTake any shape but that, and my firme Nerves\nShall never tremble. Or be alive againe,\nAnd dare me to the Defart with thy Sword :\nIf trembling I inhabit, then proteſt me\nThe Baby of a Girle: Hence horrible ſhadow,\nVnrereall mock'try hence. Why fo, being gone\nI am a man againe : pray you fit ſtill.", "Exit.", "La. You have displac'd the mirth,", "Broke the good meeting, with moſt admir'd disorder.", "Macb. Can ſuch things be,", "And overcome us like a Summers Clowd,", "Without our ſpeciall wonder ? You make me ſtrange", "Even to the dilpoſition that I owe,", "When now I thinke you can behold ſuch ſights,", "And keepe the naturall Rubie of your Cheekes,", "When mine is blanched with feare.", "Rosſe. What ſignes, my Lord?", "La. I pray you ſpeake not : he growes worſe & worſe,\nQuestion enages him : at once, goodnight.", "Stand not upon the order of your going,", "But go at once.", "Len. Good night, and better health", "Atrend his Majesty.", "La. A kinde goodnight to all.", "Exeunt Lords.", "Macb. It will have blood they ſay :", "Blood will have Blood :", "Stones have beene knowne to move, & Trees to ſpeake:", "Augures, and underſood Relations, have", "By Maggot Pyes, & Choughes, & Rookes brought forth", "The ſecret ſman of blood. What is the night?", "La. Almost at odds with morning, which is which.", "Macb. How ſayſt thou that Maeduff denies his perſon\nAt our great bidding.", "La. Did you ſend to him Sir ?", "Macb. I heare it by the way: But I will ſend :", "There's not a one of them but in his houſe", "I keepe a Servant Feed. I will to morrow", "(And betimes I will) to the wizard Sifters.", "More ſhall they ſpeake : for now I am bent to know", "By the worſt meanes, the worſt, for mine owne good,", "All cauſes shall give way, I am in blood", "Spent in ſo farre, that ſhould I wade no more,", "Returning were as tedious as go ore:", "Strange things I have in head, that will to hand,", "Which muſt be acted, ere they may be ſeand.", "La. You lacke the ſeafon of all Natures, ſleepe.", "Macb. Come, weel to ſleep; My ſtrange & ſelf-abole\nIs the initiate feare, that wants hard ſue :", "We are yet but young indeede.", "Exeunt.", "## Scena Quinta.", "Thunder. Enter the three Witches, meeting Hecat.", "I. Why how now Hecat, you looke angerly?", "Hec. Have I not reaſon (Beldams) as you are?", "Sawcy, and over-bold, how did you dare", "To Trade, and Trafficke with Macbeth,", "In Riddles, and Aſſaires of death ;", "And", "And I the cloſe", "Was neve", "Or thew", "And whi", "Hath bee", "Spightful", "Loves for", "But make", {"bbox": [1125, 307, 1176, 326], "category": "Text", "

The Tragedy of Macbeth.

163

And I the Miftris of your Charmes,
The clofe contriver of all harmes,
Was never callt to beare my part,
Or shew the glory of our Art?
And which is worfe, all you have done
Hath beene but for a wayward Sonne,
Spightfull, and wrathfull, who (as others do)
Loves for his owne ends, not for you.
But make amends now : Get you gon,
And at the pit of Acheron
Meet me i'th' Morning : thither he
Will come, to know his Deftintie,
Your Veffels, and your Spels provide,
Your Charmes, and every thing beſide ;
I am for th' Ayre : This night Ile ſpend
Vnto a diſmall, and a Fatall end.
Great buſineſſe muſt be wrought ere Noone.
Vpon the Corner of the Moone.
There hangs a vaporous drop, profound,
Ile catch it ere it come to ground ;
And that diſtill'd by Maſſicke flights,
Shall rife ſuch Artificiall Sprights,
As by the ſtrength of their iſtluſion,
Shall draw him on to his Conſuſion.
He ſhall ſpurne Fate, ſcorne Death, and beare
His hopes above Wifedome, Grace, and Feare :
And you all know, Security
Imſtormals cheeſeſt Enemie.

Mufſcke, and a Song.

Hearke, I am call'd : my little Spirit ſee
Sits in a Foggy cloud, and ſtayes for me.

Sung wíth him. Come away, come away, &c.

1 Come, let's make haſt, ſhewe'l ſoone be
Backe againe.

Exeunt.

## Scæna Sexta.

Enter Lenox, and another Lord.

Lenox. My former Speeches,
Have but hit your Thoughts
Which can interpret farther : Onely I ſay
Things have bin ſtrangely borne. The gracious Duncan
Was pittied of Macbeth : marry he was dead :
And the right valiant Banquo walk'd too late.
Whom you may ſay (if't pleaſe you) Fleanſs kill'd,
For Fleanſs ſled : Men muſt not walke too late.
Who cannot want the thought, how monitrons
It was for Malcolm, and for Donalbane.
To kill their gracious Father ? Damned Faeſt,
How it did greeve Macbeth ? Did he not ſtraight
In pious rage, the two delinquents teare,
That were the Slaves of drinke, and thralles of ſleepe ?
Was not that Nobly done ? I, and wifely too :
For twould have anger'd any heart alive
To heare the men deny't. So that I ſay,
He ha's borne all things well, and I do thinke,
That had he Duncans Sonnes under the Key,
(A and't pleaſe Heaven he shall not) they ſhall finde
What 'twere to kill a Father : So ſhould Fleanſs.
But peace, for from broad words, and cauſe he ſay'd
His preference as the Tyrants Feaſt ; I heare
Macduſſe lives in diſgrace. Sir, can you tell

Where he beſtowes himſelfe?
Lord. The Sonnes of Duncane
(From whom this Tyrant holds the due of Birth)
Live in the English Court, and is recey'd
Of the moſt Pious Edward, with ſuch grace,
That the malevolence of Fortune, nothing
Takes from his high reſpect. Thither Macduſſe
Is gone, to pray the Holy King, upon his ayd
To wake Northumberland, and warlike Seyward,
That by the helpe of theſe (with him above
To ratiſe the Worke) we may againe
Give to our Tables meate, ſleep to our Nights :
Free from our Feaſts, and Banquets bloody knives ;
Do faithfull Homage, and receive free Honors,
All which we pine for now. And this report
Hath ſo exaſperate their King, that hee
Prepares for ſome attempt of Warre.
Len. Sent he to Macduſſe ?
Lord. He didand with an abſolute, Sir, not I,
The slowly Meflenger turns me his backe,
And hums; as who should ſay, you'l rue the time
That clogges me with this Anſwer.
Lenox. And that well might
Advife him to a Caution, t'hold what diſtance
His wifedome can provide. Some holy Angell
Flye to the Court of England, and unfold
His Mefflage ere he come, that a twiſt bleſſing
May ſoone returne to this our ſuffering Country,
Vuder a hand aecurs'd.

Lrrd. Ile ſend my Prayers with him.

Exeunt

## Actus Quintus. Scæna Prima.

Thun der. Enter the three Witches.

1 Thrice the brinded Cat hath mew'd.
2 Thrice, and once the Hedges Pigge whin'd.'
3 Harpier cries, 'tis time, 'tis time,
1 Round about the Caldron go :
In the poytond Entrailes throw
Toad, that under cold ſbone,
Dayes and Nights, ha's thirtы one :
Sweltred Venom ſleeping got,
Boyle thou firſt i'th' charmed pot.
All. Double, double, toile and trouble;
Fire burne, and Caldron bubble.
2 Fillet of a Fenny Snake,
In the Caldron boyle and bake :
Eye of Newt, and Toe of Frogge:
Wooll of Bat, and Tongue of Dogge :
Adders Forke, and Blinde-wormes Sting,
Lizards legge, and Howlets wing :
For a Charme of powerfull trouble,
Like a Hell-broth, boyle and bubble.
All. Double, double, toyle and trouble,
Fire burne, and Caldron bubble.
3 Scale of Dragon, Tooth of Wolfe,
Witches Mummy, Maw, and Gulſe
Of the ravin'd ſalt Sea ſharke :
Rooſe of Hemlocke, digg'd i'th' darke :
Liver of Blaſpheming Iew.
Gall of Goate, and Slippes of Yew,
Sliver'd in the Moones Ecclipſe:

Noſo.

["The Tragedie of Macbeth.", "164", "Nofe of Turke, and Tartars lips:\nFinger of Birth-strangled Babe,\nDitch-deliver'd by a Drab,\nMake the Grwell thickc, and flab.\nAdde thereto a Tigars Chawdron,\nFor th' Ingredience of our Cawdron.", "All. Double, double, toyle and trouble,\nFire burne, and Cauldron bubble.", "2 Coole it with a Baboons blood,", "Then the Charme is firme and good.", "Enter Hecat, and the other three Witches.", "Hec. O well done: I commend your paines,\nAnd every one shall share i'th' gaines:\nAnd now about the Cauldron fing\nLike Elves and Fairies in a Ring,\nInchanting all that you put in.", "Musickes and a Song, Blacke Spirits, &c.", "2 By the pricking of my Thumbs,\nSomething wicked this way comes:\nOpen Lockes, who ever knockes.", "Enter Macbeth.", "Macb. How now you ferret, black, & midnight Hags?\nWhat is't you do ?", "All A deed without a name.", "Macb. I conjure you, by that which you Profess,\n(How ere you come to know it) anfwer me:\nThough you untye the Windes, and let them fight\nAgainst the Churches: Though the yefly Waves\nConfound and fwaitow Navigation up:", "Though bladed Corne be lodg'd, & Trees blown downe,\nThough Caflles topple on their Warders heads:\nThough Palaces, and Pyramids do slope\nTheir heads to their Foundations: Though the treasure\nOf Natures Germaine, tumble altogether,\nEven till deftruction ficken: Anfwere me", "To what I aske you.", "", "Even till deftruction ficken: Anfwere me\nTo what I aske you.", "1 Spake.", "2 Demand.", "3 Wcc'famwer.", "1 Say, ifth' hadft rather heare it from our mouthes,\nOr from our Mafters.", "Macb. Call 'em: let me fee 'em.", "1 Powre in Sowes blood, that hath eaten\nHer nine Farrow : Greace that's fweaten\nFrom the Murtherers Gibbet, throw\nInto the Flame.", "All. Come high or low :", "Thy Selfe and Office deadly fhow.", "Thunder.", "I. Apparation, an Armed Head.", "Macb. Tell me thou unknowne power.", "1 He knowes thy thought :", "Heare his specul, but fay thou nought.", "1 Appar. Macbeth, Macbeth, Macbeth.", "Beware Macduff,", "Beware the Thane of Fife : difmiffe me. Enough.", "He Defcends.", "Macb. What ere thou art, for thy good caution, thanks\nThou haft harp'd my feare aright. But one word more.", "1 He will not be commanded : heere's another", "More potent then the firft.", "Thunder.", "2 Apparition, a Bloody Childe.", "2 Appar. Macbeth, Macbeth, Macbeth.", "Macb. Had I three cares, I'd heare thee.", "2 Appar. Be bloody, bold, and refolute :", "Laugh to ſcorne", "The power of man : For none of woman borne\nShall harme Macbeth.", "Defends.", "Mac. Then live Macduffes : what need I feare of thee ?\nBut yet I make aflurance, double fire,", "And take a Bond of Fate : thou ſhalt not live,\nThat I may tell pale-hearted Feare, it lies ;", "And ſleepe in ſpight of Thunder.", "Thunder.", "3 Apparation, a Childe Crowned, with a Tree in his hand.\nWhat is this, that riles like the ilſue of a King,", "And wear's upon his Baby-brow, the round\nAnd top of Soveraignty ?", "All. Liffen, but I ſpeake not too't.", "3 Appar. Be Lyon metled, proud, and take no care:", "Who chafes, who fretſ, or where Conſpirers are :", "Macbeth shall never vanquifh'd be, untill\nGreat Byrnaam Wood, to high Dunſinane Hill\nShall come againſt him.", "Defend;", "Macb. That will never be :", "Who can impreſſe the Forreſt, bid the Tree", "Vnfixe his earth-bound Root? Sweet boadments, good:\nRebellious dead, rife never till the Wood", "Of Byrnam rife, and our high plac'd Macbeth", "Shall live the Leafe of Nature, pay his breath", "To time, and mortall Cúftome. Yet my heart", "Throbs to know one thing : Tell me, if your Art", "Can tell ſo much : Shall Banquo's ilſue ever", "Reigne in this Kingdome ?", "All. Seeke to know no more.", "Macb, I will be ſatified, Deny me this,\nAnd an eternall Curſe fall on you : Let me know.", "Why ſinkes that Caldron ? & what noyſe is this ? Hohoyes.", "1. Shew.", "2 Shew.", "3 Shew.", "All. Shew his Eyes, and greeve his Heart,\nCome like fhadowes, to depart.", "A ſhow of eight Kings, and Banquo laſt, with a glaſſe\nin his hand.", "Macb. Thou art too like the Spirit of Banquo : Down :\nThy Crowne do's ſcare mine Eye-bals. And thy haire\nThou other Gold-bound-brow, is like the firſt :", "A third, is like the former. Filthy Hagges,", "Why do you ſhew me this? —— A fourth? Start eye\nWhat will the Line ſtretch out to th'cracke of Doom?\nAnother yet? A feaventh? He ſee no more :", "And yet the eight appears, who beares a glaſſe,\nWhich ſhewes me many more : and ſome I ſee,\nThat two-fold Balles, and trebble Scepters carry.", "Horrible ſhock : Now I ſee 'tis true,\nFor the Blood-bolter'd Banquo ſmiles upon me,\nAnd points at them for his. What is this ſo ?", "1 I Sir, all this is ſo. But why\nStands Macbeth thus amazedly ?", "Come Sifters, cheere we up his ſprights,\nAnd ſhow the beſt of our delights.", "Ile Charme the Ayre to give a found,", "While you performe your Antique round :", "That this great King may kindly ſay,", "Our duties, did his welcome pay.", "Musickes.", "The Witches Dance, and vanifh.", "Macb. Where are they ? Gone ?", "Let this pernicious houre,", "Stand aye accurſed in the Kalender.", "Come in, wíthout there.", "Enter Lenox.", "Lenox. What's your Graces will.", "Macb.", "Macb.\nLenox.\nMacb.\nLenox.\nMacb.\nAnd dann'g The gallop\nMacb.\nMacb.\nLenox.\nMacb.\nMacb.\nMacb.\n

The Tragedy of Macbeth.

165

Macb. Saw you the Wizard Sihers ?

Lenox. No my Lord.

Macb. Came they not by you ?

Lenox. No indeed my Lord.

Macb. Infected be the Ayre whereon they ride,

And damn'd all thofe that truft them. I did heare

The gallopping of Horfe. Who was't canie by ?

Len. 'Tistwo or three my Lord, that bring you word :

Macduff is fled to England.

Macb. Fled to England ?

Len. 1, my good Lord.

Macb. Time, thou anticipat'st my dread exploits :

The flighty purpose never is o're-tooke

Valefle the deed go with it, From this moment,

The very firstling of my hears shall be

The firstlings of my hand. And even now

To Crown my thoughts with Acks: be it thought & done:

The Cattle of Macduff, I will furprize.

Seize upon Fife ; give to th' edge o'th' Sword

His Wife, his Babes, and all unfortunate Soules

That trace him in his Line. No boafing like a Foole,

This deed I do, before this purpuse coole,

But no more fights. Where are thefe Gentlemen ?

Come bring me where they are.

Exeunt.

## Scena Secunda.

Enter Macduffes Wife, her Son, and Roffe.

Wife. What had hee done, to make him fly the Land ?

Roffe. You muft have patience Madam.

Wife. He had none :

His flight was madneffe : when our Actions do not,

Our feares do make us Traitors.

Roffe. You know not

Whether it was his wifedome, or his feare.

Wife. Wifedom ? to leave his wife, to leave his Babes,

His Manfion, and his Titles, in a place

From whence himfelfe does flye ? He loves us not.

He wants the naturall touch. for the poore Wren

(The moft diminuive of Birds) will fight,

Her young ones in her Neft, againſt the Owle :

All is the Feare, and nothing is the Love;

As little is the Wifedome, where the flight

So runnes againſt all reafon.

Roffe. My decreft Cooz,

I pray you Ichoole your ſelfe, But for your Husband,

He is Noble, Wife, Iudicious, and beſt knowes

The fits o'th' Seafon. I dare not ſpeake much further,

But cruell are the times, when we are Traitors

And do not know our ſelves : when we hold Rumor

From what we feare, yet know not what we feare,

Each way, and move. I take my leave of you:

Shall not be long but Ile be here againe:

Things at the worſt will ceafe, or ſelfe climbe upward,

To what they were before. My pretty Coſine,

Bleſſing upon you.

Wife. Father'd he is,

And yet hee's Fatherleſſe.

Roffe. I am ſo much a Foole, I should I ſay longer

It would be my difgrace, and your difcomfort.

I take my leave ear once.

Exiſt Roffe.

Wife. Sirra, your Fathers dead,

And what will you do now ? How will you live ?

Son. As Birds do Mother.

Wife. What with Wormes, and Flyes ?

Son. With what I get, and ſo do they?

Wife. Poore bird,

Thouſt never Feare the Net, nor Line,

The Pitfall, nor the Gin.

Son. Why should I Mother ?

Poore Birds they are not ſet for :

My Father is not dead for all your ſaying.

Wife. Yes, he is dead :

How wilt thou doe for a Father ?

Son. Nay how will you doe for a husband ?

Wife. Why I can buy me twenty at any Market,

Son. Then you'l by 'em to fell againe.

Wife. Thou ſpeak'st with all thy wit,

And yet I'faith with wit enough for thee.

Son. Was my Father a Traitor, Mother ?

Wife. I, that he was.

Son. What is a Traitor ?

Wife. Why one that ſweares, and lyes,

Son. And be all Traytors, that doe to.

Wife. Every one that do's to, is a Traitor,

And muſt be hang'd.

Son. And muſt they all be hang'd, that ſwear and lye ?

Wife. Every one :

Son. VV ho muſt hang them ?

Wife. VV hy, the honest men.

Son. Then the Liars and Swearers are Fools: for there are Lyars and Swearers enow, to beate the honest men, and hang up them.

Wife. Now God helpe thee, poore Monkie :

But how wilt thou doe for a Father ?

Son. If hee were dead, youl'd weepe for him : if you would not it were a good ſigne, that I ſhould quickly have a new Father.

Son. Poore pratler, how thou talk'd ?

Enter a Meſſenger.

Mef. Bleſſe you faire Dame: I am not to you knowne,

Though in your ſtate of honour I am perfect;

I doubt ſome danger does approach you neerely.

If you will take a homely mans advice,

Be not found here : hence with your little ones :

To fright you thus, Me thinkes I am to favage :

To do worſe to you, were ſell Cruelty,

VV hich is too ne your perſon. Heauen preferve you.

I dare abide no longer.

Exit Meſſenger.

Wife. Whether ſhould I flye ?

I have done no harme, But I remember now

I am in this earthly world : where to doe harme

Is often laudable, to doe good fometime

Accounted dangerous folly. Why then (alas)

Doe I put up that womanly defence,

To ſay I had done no harme ?

What are theſe faces?

Enter Murthers.

Mur. Where is your husband ?

Wife. I hope in no place ſo unſanctified,
Where ſuch as thou mayſt find him.

Mur. He's a Traitor.

Son. Thou lyſt, thou ſhagge-ear'd Villaine.

Mur. What you Egge ?

Yong fry of Treachery ?

Son. He has killd me Mother,

Run away I pray you.

Exit crying Murther.

Scena.

The Tragedie of Macbeth.

## Scena Tertia.

Enter Malcolm and Macduffe.

Mal. Let us seeke out some desolate shade, & there
Weepe our sad bofomes empty.

Macc. Let us rather

Hold fast the mortall Sword: and like good men,
Beftride our downfall Birthdome: each new Morne,
New Widdowes howle, new Orphans cry, new forowes
Strike Heaven on the face, that it refounds
As if it felt with Scotland, and yell'd out
Like Syllable of Dolour.

Mal. What I believe, Ile waile ;

What know, believee ; and what I can redresse,
As I shall finde the time to friend, I will.

What you have spoke, it may be so perchance.

This Tyrant, whose sole name blifters our tongues,
Was once thought honest: you have lov'd him well,
He hath not touch'd you yet. I am young, but something
You may differne of him through me, and wifedome
To offer up a weake, poore innocent Lambe
T'appeafe an angry God.

Macc. I am not treacherous.

Malc. But Macbeth is.

A good and vertuous Nature may recoyle
In an Imperiall charge. But I shall crave your pardon:
That which you are, my thoughts cannot transpofe ;
Angels are bright asill, though the brighteft fell.
Though all things foule, would wear the brows of grace
Yet Grace must still looke so.

Macc. I have loft my Hopes.

Malc. Perchance even there

Where I did finde my doubles

Why in that rayneſſe left you Wife, and Childe ?

Thofe precious Motives, thofe ſtrong knots of Love,
Without leave-taking. I pray you,
Let not my Jealouſes, be your Difhonors,
But mine owne Safetie: you may be rightly juſt,
What ever I thinke.

Macc. Bleed, bleed poore Country,

Great Tyrrany, lay thou thy basſe ſure,
For goodneſſe dare not check thee: weare ſt thy wrongs
The Title is affear'd. Farethee well Lord,
I would not be the Villaine that thou think't,
For the whole Space that's in the Tyrants Graſpe,
And the rich Eaſt to boot.

Mal. Be not offended :

I ſpeake not as in absolute ſcare of you :
I thinke our Country finkes beneath the yoake,
It weepes, it bleeds, and each new day a gaff,
Is added to her wounds. I thinke withall,
There would be hands uplifed in my right :
And here from gracious England have I offer
Of goodly thoufands. But for all this,
When I shall tread upon the Tyrants head,

Or weare it on my Sword; yet my poore Country
Shall have more vices then it had before,
More ſuffer, and more ſundry wayes then ever,
By him that shall ſucceede.

Macc. What ſhould he be ?

Malc. It is my ſelfe I meene : in whom I know

All the particulars of Vice ſo grafted,

That when they ſhall be open'd, blacke Macbeth
Will feeme as pure as Snow, and the poore State
Eſteeme him as a Lambe, being compar'd
With my confineſſe harmes.

Macc. Not in the Legions

Of horrid Hell, can come a Divell more dann'd
In evils, to top Macbeth.

Macc. I grant him Bloody,

Luxurious, Auaricious, Falſe, Deceitfull,
Sodaine, Malicious, ſmoaking of every ſinne
That ha's a name. But there's no bottom, none
In my Voluptuonneſſe: Your Wives, your Daughters,
Your Matrons, and your Maides, could not fill up
The Ceſterne of my Luſt, and my Deſire
All continent Impediments would ore-beare
That did oppoſe my will. Better Macbeth,
Then ſuch an one to reigne.

Macc. Boundleſſe intemperance

In Nature is a Tyranny: It hath beene
Th' untimely emptying of the happy Throre,
And fall of many Kings. But ſeare not yet
To take upon you what is yours: you may
Convey your pleafures in a ſpacious plenty,
And yet ſeeme cold. The time you may ſo hoodwinne :
We have willing Dames enough: there cannot be
That Vulture in you, to devoure ſo many
As will to Greauntſleſſe dedicate themſelves.
Finding it ſo inclinde.

Mal. With this, there growes

In my moſt ill-compos'd Affection, ſuch
A lanſchleſſe Auarice, that were I King,
I ſhould cut off the Nobles for their Lands,
Deſire his Ieſels, and this others Houſe,
And my more-having, would be as a Sawce
To make me hunger more, that I ſhould forge
Quarrels unjuſt againſt the Good and Loyall,
Deteroying them for wealth.

Macc. This Auarice

ſlickes deeper: growes with more pernicious roote
Then Summer-ſeeming Luſt: and it hath bin
The Sword of our ſaine Kings: yet do not ſcare,
Scotland hath ſoyons to ſell up your will
Of your meere Owne. All theſe are portable,
With other Graces weigh'd.

Mal. But I have none. The King-becoming Graces,
As Iuſtice, Verity, Temp'rance, Stablenefſe,
Bounty, Perſeverance, Mercy, Lowlineſſe,
Devotion, Patience, Courage, fortitude,
I have no reliſh of them, but abound
In the divifion of each ſeverall Crime,
Acting it many wayes. Nay had I power I ſhould
Poure the ſweet Milke of Concord, into Hell,
Vpreore the univerſall peace, confound
All unity on earth.

Macc. O Scotland, Scotland.

Mal. If ſuch a one be fit to governe, ſpeake :
I am as I have ſpoken.
Mae. Fit to govern? No not to live. O Nation miſerable!
With an untitled Tyrant, bloody Sceptred,
When ſhalt thou ſee thy wholſome dayes againe?
Since that the trueſt Iſtue of thy Throre
By his owne Interdiſion ſtands accuſt,
And do's blapheme his breed ? Thy Royall Father
Was a moſt Sainted-King: the Queene that bore thee,
Oſtner upon her knees, then on her ſeet,
Dy'de every day the liv'd. Fare thee well,

Theſe

Theſe Evils
Hath banifh
Thy hope en

Mal. Al. Ma
Childe of int
Wip'd the bl
Tothy good
By many of
From over
Deale betw
I put my fel
Vnſpeake m
The taints, an
For ſtranger
Vnknowne w
Scarily ha
At no time b
The Divell m
No leſſe in t
Was this up
Isthine, and
Whither in
Old Seyw
Already at
Now weel'

a

Mal. S. Ma

Tis hard to

Mal. W.
I pray you i
Doff. I
That ſtay hi
The greata
Such ſanctin
They pref

Mal. I.
Macc. T.
A moſt mir
Which oft of
I have ſeen
Himſelfe b

Mal. I.
Macc. T.
All ſwolne
The meere
Hanging a
Put on with
To the ſuc
The healin

Mal. I.
Macc. T.
Hath a l
And ſond
That ſpeak

Mal. S.
Malc. Ma
Macc. I.
Malc. T.
A moſt mir
Which oft of
I have ſeen
Himſelfe b

The Tragedy of Macbeth.

167

Thefe Evils thou repeat'it upon thy felfe,
Hath banifht me from Scotland. O my Breft,
Thy hope ends heere.

Mal. Macduff, this Noble paflion

Childe of integrity, hath from my foule
Wip'd the blacke Scruples, reconcil'd my thoughts
Tothy good Truth, and Honor. Divellifh Macbeth,
By many of thefe traines, hath fought to win me
Into his power: and modeft Wifedome pluckes me
From over-credulous haft: but God above
Deale betweene thee and me; For even now
I put my felfe to thy direction, and
Vnſpeake mine owne detraction. Heere abiure
The taints, and blames I laid upon my felfe,
For ftrangers to my Nature, I am yet
Vnknowne to women, never was forſwore,
Scarſely have coveted what was mine owne,
At no time broke my Faith, would not betray
The Divell to his Fellow, and delight
No leſe in truth then life. My firſt ſalle ſpeaking
Was this upon my ſelfe, what I am truly
Iſtine, and my poore Countries to command:
Wither indeed, before thy heere approach,
Old ſeyward with ten thouſand warlike men
Already at a point, was fetting ſoorth?
Now weel together, and the chance of goodneſſe
Belike our warranted Quarrell. Why are you ſilent?

Macd. Such welcome, and unwelcome things at once
Tis hard to reconcile.

Enter a Doctor.

Mal. Well, more anon. Comes the King forth
I pray you?

Doſt, I ſir: there are a crew of wretched Soules
That flay his Cure: their malady convinces
The great affay of Art. But at his touch,
Such fanefity hath Heaven given his hand,
They prefently amend.

Mal. I thank you Doctor.

Exiſt.

Mae. What's the Diteaſe he means?

Mal. Tis called the Evill,

A moſt miraculous worke in this good King,
Which often since my heere remaine in England,
I have ſene him doe: How he ſolicites heaven
Himſelbe beſt knowes; but ſtrangely viſited people
All ſwolne and Vicerous, pittifull to the eye,
The meere deſpaire of Surgery, he cures,
Hanging a golden ſtampe about their necke,
Put on with holy Prayers, and'tis ſpoken
Tothe ſucceeding Royalty he leaves
The healing Benediction. with this ſtrange vertue,
He hath a heavenly guift of Propheſie,
And ſondry Bleſſings hang about his Thrope,
That ſpeake him full of Grace.

Enter Roffe.

Mae. Se who comes heere.

Mae. My Countryman : but yet I know him not.

Mae. My eamer gentle Cozen, welcome hither.

Mae. I know him now. Good God betimes remome

The means, the means that makes us ftrangers,
Roff, Sir. Amen.

Mae. Stands Scotland where it did?

Roff. Alas, poore Country,

Almoſt aſtraid to know it ſelfe. It cannot
Be called our Mother, but our Grave, where nothing

But who knowes nothing is once ſene to ſmile :
Where ſighes, and groanes, and ſhrieks that rent the ayre

Are made, not mark'd; Where violent forrow ſeemes

A Moderne ſextaſe: The Deadmans kneil,

Is there ſcarte ask'd for who, and good menslives
Expire before the Flowers in their Caps,

Dying, or ere they ſicken.

Mae. Oh relation ; too nice, and yet too true.

Mae. What's the neſtneſt grieſe?

Roffe. That of an houeres age, doth hir ſpeake,
Each minute teemes a new one.

Mae. How does my Wife?

Roffe. Why well.

Mae. And all my Children?

Roffe. Well too.

Mae. The Tyrant has not batter'd at their peace?

Roffe. No, they were well at peace when I did leave 'em.

Mae. Be not a niggard of your ſpeech: How go'st?

Roffe. When I came hither to transport the Tiaings
Which I have heavily borne, there ran a Rumour
Of many worthy Fellowes, that were out,
Which was to my beeleſe wintneſt the rather.
For that I faw the Tyrants Power a-foot,
Now is the time of helpe : your eye in Scotland
Would create Soidiours, make our women fight,
To doffe their dire diſtrefſes.

Mae. Bec't their comfort.

We are comming therther : Gracious England hath

Lent us good ſeyward, and ten thouſand men,

An older and a better Souldier, none

That Chriſtendome gives out.

Roffe. Would I could anſwer

This comfort with the like. But I have words

That would be howl'd out in the defent ayre,

Where hearing should not latch them.

Mae. What concerne they,

The generall canſe, or is it a ſec-grieſe

Due to ſome ſingle brett?

Roffe. No minde that's honef

But in it ſhares ſome woe, though the maine part

Pertaines to you alone.

Mae. If it be mine

Keepe it not from me, quickly let me have it.

Roffe. Let not your eares deſpife my tongue for ever,
Which ſhall poffeſſe them with the heaviſt found
That ever yet they heard.

Mae. Humli: I gueſſe at it.

Roffe. Your Cattle is ſurpriz'd: your Wife, and Babes
Savagely ſlaughter'd: To relate the manner
Were on the Quarry of theſe murther'd Deere
To adde the death of you.

Mae. Merciſull Heaven :

What man, ne're pull your hat upon your brows :

Give forrow words; the grieſe that do's not ſpeake,
Whifpers the o're-fraught heart, and bids it breake.

Mae. My Children too ?

Ro. Wife, Children, ſervants, all that could be found.

Mae. And I muſt be from thence? My wife kill'd too?

Roffe. I have faid.

Mae. Be comforted.

Let's make us Medcines of our great Revenge,
To care this deadly greeſe.

Mae. He ha's no Children. All my pretty ones?

Did you fay All? Oh Hell-Kite! All?

What, All my pretty Chickens, and their Damme

At one ſell ſwoope ?

Mae. Diſpute it like a man.

Mae. I ſhall do so:

But