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Complete Works of Shakespeare - Part 6
ANTONY AND CLEOPATRA.
PERSONS REPRESENTED.
M. ANTONY,
OCTAVIUS CESAR,
M. ^EMIL. LEPIDUS,
Triumvir*.
SEXTUS POMPEIUS.
DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS,
VENTIDIUS,
EROS,
SCARUS,
D ERG ETAS,
DEMETRIUS,
PHILO,
Friends to ANTONY.
MEC^NAS,
AGRIPPA,
DOLABELLA,
PROCULEIUS,
THYREUS,
GALLUS,
- Friends to OESAR.
MEN AS, )
MENECRATES, [ Friends to POMPEY.
VARRIUS, J
TAURUS, Lieutenant -General to OESAR.
CANIDIUS, Lieutenant- General to ANTONY.
SILIUS, an Officer in VENTIDIUS'S Army.
EUPHRONIUS, an Ambassador from ANTONY
to OESAR.
ALEXAS, MARDIAN, SELEUCUS, and Dio-
MEDES, Attendants on CLEOPATRA.
A Soothsayer. A Clown.
CLEOPATRA, Queen of Egypt.
OCTAVIA, Sister to CESAR and Wife to
ANTONY.
CHARM i AN and IRAS, Attendants on CLEO-
PATRA.
Officers, Soldiers, Messengers, and other
Attendants.
SCENE, Dispersed; in several parts of the Roman Empire.
ACT I.
SCENE I. ALEXANDRIA. A Room in CLEO-
PATRA'S Palace.
Enter DEMETRIUS and PHILO.
Phi. Nay, but this dotage of our general's
O'erflows the measure : those his goodly eyes,
That o'er the files and musters of the war
Have glow'd like plated Mars, now bend,
now turn
The office and devotion of their view
Upon a tawny front : his captain's heart,
Which in the scuffles of great fights hath burst
The buckles on his breast, reneges all temper,
And is become the bellows and the fan
To cool a gipsy's lust. [Flourish -within.]
Look where they come :
Take but good note, and you shall see in him
The triple pillar of the world transform'd
Into a strumpet's fool : behold and see !
Enter ANTONY and CLEOPATRA, with their
Trains; Eunuchs fanning her.
Cleo. If it be love, indeed, tell me how much.
Ant. There 's beggary in the love that can
be reckon'd.
Cleo. I '11 set a bourn how far to be belov'd.
Ant. Then must thou needs find out new
heaven, new earth.
Enter an Attendant.
Att. News, my good lord, from Rome.
Ant. Grates me : the sum.
Cleo. Nay, hear them, Antony :
Fulvia perchance is angry ; or, who knows
If the scarce-bearded Caesar have not sent
His powerful mandate to you, Do this or this ;
7ake in that kingdom and enfranchise that ;
Perform '/, or else we damn thee.
Ant. How, my love !
Cleo. Perchance ! nay, and most like:
You must not stay here longer, your dismission
Is come from Caesar ; therefore hear it, Antony.
Where's Fulvia's process? Caesar's I would
say ? both ? [queen ,
Call in the messengers. As I am Egypt's
Thou blushest, Antony; and that blood of thine
Is Caesar's-homager : else so thy cheek pays
shame [sengers!
When shrill-tongu'd Fulvia scolds. The mes-
Ant. Let Rome in Tiber melt, and the
wide arch
Of the rang'd empire fall ! Here is my space.
890
ANTONY AND CLEOPATRA.
[ACT i.
Kingdoms are clay : our dungy earth alike
Feeds beast as man : the nobleness of life
Is to do thus ; when such a mutual pair
[Embracing.
And such a twain can do 't, in which I bind,
On pain of punishment, the world to weet
We stand up peerless.
Cleo. Excellent falsehood !
Why did he marry Fulvia, and not love her ?
I '11 seem the fool I am not ; Antony
Will be himself.
Ant. But stirr'd by Cleopatra.
Now, for the love of Love and her soft hours,
Let's not confound the time with conference
harsh :
There 's not a minute of our lives should stretch
Without some pleasure now : what sport to-
night ?
Cleo. Hear the ambassadors.
Ant. Fie, wrangling queen !
Whom everything becomes, to chide, to laugh,
To weep ; whose every passion fully strives
To make itself in thee fair and admir'd !
No messenger ; but thine, and all alone,
To-night we'll wander through the streets and
note
The qualities of people. Come, my queen ;
Last night you did desire it : speak not to us.
[Exeunt ANT. and CLEO., with their Train.
Dem. Is Caesar with Antonius priz'd so
slight?
Phi. Sir, sometimes, when he is not Antony,
He comes too short of that great property
Which still should go with Antony.
Dem. I am full sorry
That he approves the common liar, who
Thus speaks of him at Rome : but I will hope
Of better deeds to-morrow. Rest you happy !
[Exeunt.
SCENE II. ALEXANDRIA. Another Room in
Cleopatra's Palace.
Enter CHAR MI AN, IRAS, ALEXAS, and a
Soothsayer.
Char. Lord Alexas, sweet Alexas, most
anything Alexas, almost most absolute Alexas,
where 's the soothsayer that you praised so to
the queen ? O that I knew this husband,
which you say must charge his horns with
garlands !
Alex. Soothsayer,
Sooth. Your will ?
Char. Is this the man? Is't you, sir, that
know things?
Sooth. In nature's infinite book of secrecy
A little I can read.
Alex. Show him your hand.
Enter ENOBARBUS.
Eno. Bring in the banquet quickly; wine
enough
Cleopatra's health to drink.
Char. Good sir, give me good fortune.
Sooth. I make not, but foresee.
Char. Pray, then, forsee me one.
Sooth. You shall be yet far fairer than you are.
Char. He means in flesh.
Iras. No, you shall paint when you are old.
Char. Wrinkles forbid !
Alex. Vex not his prescience ; be attentive.
Char. Hush!
Sooth. You shall be more beloving than
beloved. [drinking.
Char. I had rather heat my liver with
Alex. Nay, hear him.
Char. Good now, some excellent fortune!
Let me be married to three kings in a forenoon,
and widow them all: let me have a child at
fifty, to whom Herod of Jewry may do homage :
find me to marry me with Octavius Caesar, and
companion me with my mistress.
Sooth. You shall outlive the lady whom you
serve.
Char. O excellent! I love long life better
than figs.
Sooth. You have seen and prov'd a fairer
former fortune
Than that which is to approach.
Char. Then belike my children shall have
no names: pr'ythee, how many boys and
wenches must I have?
Sooth. If every of your wishes had a womb,
And fertile every wish, a million.
Char. Out, fool ! I forgive thee for a witch.
Alex. You think nona but your sheets are
privy to your wishes.
Char. Nay, come, tell Iras hers.
Alex. We '11 know all our fortunes.
Eno. Mine, and most of our fortunes, to-
night, shall be drunk to bed.
Iras. There's a palm presages chastity, if
nothing else.
Char. Even as the o'erflowing Nilus pre-
sageth famine.
Iras. Go, you wild bedfellow, you cannot
soothsay.
Char. Nay, if an oily palm be not a fruitful
prognostication, I cannot scratch mine ear.
Pr'ythee, tell her but a worky-day fortune.
Sooth. Your fortunes are alike.
Iras. But how, but how? give me particulars.
Sooth. I have said.
Iras. Am I not an inch of fortune better
than she?
SCENE II.]
ANTONY AND CLEOPATRA.
891
Char. Well, if you were but an inch of for-
tune better than I, where would you choose it?
Iras. Not in my husband's nose.
Char. Our worser thoughts heavens mend !
Alexas, come, his fortune, his fortune ! O, let
him marry a woman that cannot go, sweet Isis,
I beseech thee ! And let her die too, and give
him a worse ! and let worse follow worse, till
the worst of all follow him laughing to his grave,
fiftyfold a cuckold ! Good Isis, hear me this
prayer, though thou deny me a matter of more
weight ; good Isis, I beseech thee !
Iras. Amen. Dear goddess, hear that
prayer of the people ! for, as it is a heart-
breaking to see a handsome man loose-wived,
so it is a deadly sorrow to behold a foul knave
uncuckolded: therefore, dear Isis, keep de-
corum, and fortune him accordingly !
Char. Amen.
Alex. Lo, now, if it lay in their hands to
make me a cuckold, they would make them-
selves whores, but they 'd do 't !
Eno. Hush ! here comes Antony.
Char. Not he ; the queen.
Enter CLEOPATRA.
Cleo. Saw you my lord ?
Eno. No, lady.
Cleo. Was he not here ?
Char. No, madam. [sudden
Cleo. He was dispos'd to mirth ; but on the
A Roman thought hath struck him. Enobar-
bus,
Eno. Madam ?
Cleo. Seek him, and bring him hither.
W T here's Alexas ? [preaches.
Alex. Here, at youi service. My lord ap-
Cleo. We will not look upon him : go with us.
{Exeunt CLEO., ENO., CHAR., IRAS, ALEX.
and Soothsayer.
Enter ANTONY, with a Messenger and
Attendants.
Mess. Fulvia thy wife first came into the field.
Ant. Against my brother Lucius
Mess. Ay:
But soon that war had end, and the time's state
Made friends of them, jointing their force 'gainst
Caesar;
Whose better issue in the war, from Italy,
Upon the first encounter, drave them.
Ant. Well, what worst ? [teller.
Mess. The nature of bad news infects the
Ant. When it concerns the fool or coward.
On:
Things that are past are done with me. 'Tis
thus;
Who tells me true, though in his tale lie death
I hear him as he flatter'd.
Mess. Labienus,
This is stiff news, hath, with his Parthian
force,
Extended Asia from Euphrates ;
His conquering banner shook from Syria
To Lydia and to Ionia ;
Whilst,
Ant. Antony, thou wouldst say,
Mess. O, my lord !
Ant. Speak to me home, mince not the
general tongue :
Name Cleopatra as she is call'd in Rome ;
Rail thou in Fulvia's phrase ; and taunt my
faults
With such full license as both truth and malice
Have power to utter. O, then we bring forth
weeds [told us
When our quick minds lie still ; and our ills
Is as our earing. Fare thee well awhile.
Mess. At your noble pleasure. [Exit.
Ant. From Sicyon, ho, the news ! Speak
there !
1 Att. The man from Sicyon, is there such
an one ?
2 Att. He stays upon your will.
Ant. Let him appear.
These strong Egyptian fetters I must break,
Or lose myself in dotage.
Enter a second Messenger.
What are you?
2 Mess. Fulvia thy wife is dead.
Ant. Where died she?
2 Mess. In Sicyon : [serious
Her length of sickness, with what else more
Importeth thee to know, this bears.
\Gives a letter.
Ant. Forbear me.
{Exit second Messenger.
There 's a great spirit gone ! Thus did I desire
it:
What our contempts do often hurl from us,
We wish it ours again ; the present pleasure,
By revolution lowering, does become
The opposite of itself : she 's good, being gone;
The hand could pluck her back that shov'd
her on.
I must from this enchanting queen break off :
Ten thousand harms, more than the ills I know,
My idleness doth hatch. Ho, Enobarbus !
Re-enter ENOBARBUS.
Eno. What 's your pleasure, sir ?
Ant. I must with haste from hence.
Eno. Why, then, we kill all our women : we
892
ANTONY AND CLEOPATRA.
[ACT i.
see how mortal an unkindness is to them ; if
they suffer our departure, death 's the word.
Ant. I must be gone.
Eno. Under a compelling occasion, let
women die : it were pity to cast them away
for nothing ; though, between them and a great
cause, they should be esteemed nothing. Cleo-
patra, catching but the least noise of this, dies
instantly ; I have seen her die twenty times
upon far poorer moment : I dp think there is
mettle in death, which commits some loving
act upon her, she hath such a celerity in dying.
Ant. She is cunning past man's thought.
Eno. Alack, sir, no ; her passions are made
of nothing but the finest part of pure love : we
cannot call her winds and waters, sighs and
tears ; they are greater storms and tempests
than almanacs can report : this cannot be cun-
ning in her ; if it be, she makes a shower of rain
as well as Jove.
Ant. Would I had never seen her !
Eno. O sir, you had then left unseen a
wonderful piece of work ; which not to have
been blessed withal would have discredited
your travel.
Ant. Fulvia is dead.
Eno. Sir?
Ant. Fulvia is dead.
Eno. Fulvia!
Ant. Dead.
Eno. Why, sir, give the gods a thankful
sacrifice. When it pleaseth their deities to
take the wife of a man from him, it shows to
man the tailors of the earth ; comforting therein
that when old robes are worn out there are
members to make new. If there were no more
women but Fulvia, then had you indeed a cut,
and the case to be lamented : this grief is
crowned with consolation ; your old smock
brings forth a new petticoat : and, indeed,
the tears live in an onion that should water this
sorrow. [state
Ant. The business she hath broached in the
Cannot endure my absence.
Eno. And the business you have broached
here cannot be without you ; especially that of
Cleopatra's, which wholly depends on your
abode.
Ant. No more light answers. Let our officers
Have notice what we purpose. I shall break
The cause of our expedience to the queen,
And get her leave to part. For not alone
The death of Fulvia, with more urgent touches,
Do strongly speak to us ; but the letters too
Of many our contriving friends in Rome
Petition us at home : Sextus Pompeius
Hath given the dare to Caesar, and commands
The empire of the sea ; our slippery people,
Whose love is never link'd to the deserver
Till his deserts are past, begin to throw
Pompey the Great, and all his dignities,
Upon his son ; who, high in name and power,
Higher than both in blood and life, stands up
For the main soldier : whose quality, going on,
The sides o' the world may danger : much is
breeding,
Which, like the courser's hair, hath yet but life,
And not a serpent's poison. Say, our pleasure,
To such whose place is under us, requires
Our quick remove from hence.
Eno. I shall do 't. {Exeunt.
SCENE III. ALEXANDRIA. A Room in
CLEOPATRA'S Palace.
Enter CLEOPATRA, CHARMIAN, IRAS, and
ALEXAS.
Cleo. Where is he?
Char. I did not see him since.
Cleo. See where he is, who 's with him, what
he does :
I did not send you : if you find him sad, '
Say I am dancing ; if in mirth, report
That I am sudden sick : quick, and returru
{Exit ALEXAS.
Char. Madam, methinks, if you did love him
dearly,
You do not hold the method to enforce
The like from him.
Cleo. What should I do, I do not ?
Char. In each thing give him way ; cross him
in nothing.
Cleo. Thou teachest like a fool, the way to
lose him. [forbear :
Char. Tempt him not so too far ; I wish,
In time we hate that which we often fear.
But here comes Antony.
Cleo. I am sick and sullen.
Enter ANTONY.
Ant. I am sorry to give breathing to my
purpose, [fall :
Cleo. Help me away, dear Charmian ; I shall
It cannot be thus long, the sides of nature
Will not sustain jt.
Ant. Now, my dearest queen,
Cleo. Pray you, stand further from me.
Ant. What 's the matter ?
Cleo. I know, by that same eye, there 's some
good news.
What says the married woman ? You may go :
Would she had never given you leave to come !
Let her not say 'tis I that keep you here,
I have no power upon you ; hers you are.
SCENE III.]
ANTONY AND CLEOPATRA.
893
Ant. The gods best know,
Cleo. O, never was there queen
So mightily betrayM ! Yet at the first
I saw the treasons planted.
Ant. Cleopatra,
Cleo. Why should I think you can be mine
and true,
Though you in swearing shake the throned gods,
Who have been false to Fulvia? Riotous
madness,
To be entangled with those mouth-made vows,
Which break themselves in swearing !
Ant. Most sweet queen,
Cleo. Nay, pray you, seek no colour for your
going,
But bid farewell, and go : when you su'd staying,
Then was the time for words : no going then ;
Eternity was in our lips and eyes,
Bliss in our brows' bent ; none our parts so poor
But was a race of heaven : they are so still,
Or thou, the greatest soldier of the world,
Art turn'd the greatest liar.
Ant. How now, lady !
Cleo. I would I had thy inches ; thou shouldst
know
There were & heart in Egypt.
Ant. Hear me, queen :
The strong necessity of time commands
Our services awhile ; but my full heart
Remains in use with you. Our Italy
Shines o'er with civil swords : Sextus Pompeius
Makes his approaches to the port of Rome :
Equality of two domestic powers [strength,
Breeds scrupulous faction : the hated, grown to
Are -newly grown to love: the condemn'd
Pompey,
Rich in his father's honour, creeps apace
Into the hearts of such as have not thriv'd
Upon the present state, whose numbers threaten;
And quietness, grown sick of rest, would purge
By any desperate change. My more particular,
And that which most with you should safe my
going,
Is Fulvia's death. [me freedom,
Cleo. Though age from folly could not give
It does from childishness : can Fulvia die ?
Ant. She 's dead, my queen :
Look here, and, at thy sovereign leisure, read
The garboils she awak'd ; at the last, best.
See when and where she died.
Cleo. O most false love !
Where be the sacred vials thou shouldst fill
With sorrowful water? Now I see, I see,
In Fulvia's death how mine receiv'd shall be.
Ant. Quarrel no more, but be prepar'd to
know
The purposes I bear ; which are, or cease,
As you shall give the advice. By the fire
That quickens Nilus' slim, I go from hence
Thy soldier, servant ; making peace or war
As thou affect'st.
Cleo. Cut my lace, Charmian, come ;
But let it be : I am quickly ill and well,
So Antony loves.
Ant. My precious queen, forbear;
And give true evidence to his love, which stands
An honourable trial.
Cleo. So Fulvia told me.
I pr'ythee, turn aside and weep for her ;
Then bid adieu to me, and say the tears
Belong to Egypt : good now, play one scene
Of excellent dissembling ; and let it look
Like perfect honour.
Ant. You '11 heat my blood : no more.
Cleo. You can do better yet; but this is
meetly.
Ant. Now, by my sword,
Cleo. And target. Still he mends ;
But this is not the best: look, pr'ythee,
Charmian,
How this Herculean Roman does become
The carriage of his chafe.
Ant. I '11 leave you, lady.
Cleo. Courteous lord, one word.
Sir, you and I must part, but that 's not it :
Sir, you and I have lov'd, but there 's not it ;
That you know well : something it is I would,
O, my oblivion is a very Antony,
And I am all forgotten.
Ant. But that your royalty
Holds idleness your subject, I should take you
For idleness itself.
Cleo. 'Tis sweating labour
To bear such idleness so near the heart
As Cleopatra this. But, sir, forgive me ;
Since my becomings kill me, when they do not
Eye well to you : your honour calls you hence ;
Therefore be deaf to my unpitied folly,
And all the gods go with you ! upon your sword
Sit laurel victory ! and smooth success
Be strew'd before your feet !
Ant. Let us go. Come ;
Our separation so abides, and flies,
That thou, residing here, go'st yet with me,
And I, hence fleeting, here remain with thee.
Away ! [Exeunt,
SCENE IV. ROME. An Apartment m
QESAK'S House.
Enter OCTAVIUS OESAR, LEPIDUS, and
Attendants.
Cczs. You may see, Lepidus, and henceforth,
know.
894
ANTONY AND CLEOPATRA.
[ACT i.
It is not Caesar's natural vice to hate
Our great competitor. From Alexandria
This is the news : he fishes, drinks, and wastes
The lamps of night in revel : is not more manlike
Than Cleopatra ; nor the queen of Ptolemy [or
More womanly than he : hardly gave audience,
Vouchsafd to think he had partners: you
shall find there
A man who is the abstract of all faults
That all men follow.
Lep. I must not think there are
Evils enow to darken all his goodness :
His faults in him seem as the spots of heaven,
More fiery by night's blackness ; hereditary
Rather than purchas'd ; what he cannot change
Than what he chooses.
Cces. You are too indulgent. Let us grant
it is not
Amiss to tumble on the bed of Ptolemy;
To give a kingdom for a mirth ; to sit
And keep the turn of tippling with a slave ;
To reel the streets at noon, and stand the buffet
With knaves that smell of sweat: say this
becomes him,
As his composure must be rare indeed
Whom these things cannot blemish, yet must
Antony
No way excuse his soils when we do bear
So great weight in his lightness. If he fill'd
His vacancy 'with his voluptuousness,
Full surfeits and the dryness ef his bones
Call on him for 't : but to confound such time,
That drums him from his sport, and speaks as
loud
As his own state and ours, 'tis to be chid
As we rate boys, who, being mature in know-
ledge,
Pawn their experience to their present pleasure,
And so rebel to judgment.
Enter a Messenger.
Lep. Here 's more news.
Mess. Thy biddings have been done; and
every hour,
Most noble Caesar, shalt thou have report
How 'tis abroad. Pompey is strong at sea ;
And it appears he is belov'd of those
That only have fear'd Caesar : to the ports
The discontents repair, and men's reports
Give him much wrong'd.
Cces. I should have known no less :
It hath been taught us from the primal state
That he which is was wish'd until he were ;
And the ebb'd man, ne'er lov'd till ne'er
worth love, [body,
Comes dear'd by being lack'd. This common
Like to a vagabond flag upon the stream,
Goes to and back, lackeying the varying tide,
To rot itself with motion.
Mess. Caesar, I bring thee word,
Menecrates and Menas, famous pirates,
Make the sea serve them, which they ear and
wound
With keels of every kind : many hot inroads
They make in Italy ; the borders maritime
Lack blood to think on't, and flush youth re volt :
No vessel can peep forth but 'tis as soon
Taken as seen ; for Pompey's name strikes more
Than could his war resisted.
Cces. Antony,
Leave thy lascivious wassails. When thou once
Wast beaten from Modena, where thou slew'st
Hirtius and Pansa, consuls at thy heel
Did famine follow ; whom thou fought'st against,
Though daintily brought up, with patience more
Than savages could suffer : thou didst drink
The stale of horses, and the gilded puddle
Which beasts would cough at : thy palate then
did deign
The roughest berry on the rudest hedge ;
Yea, like the stag, when snow the pasture sheets,
The barks of trees thou browsed'st ; on the Alps
It is reported thou didst eat strange flesh,
Which some did die to look on : and all this,
It wounds thine honour that I speak it now,
Was borne so like a soldier that thy cheek
So much as lank'd not.
Lep. 'Tis pity of him.
Cces. Let his shames quickly
Drive him to Rome : 'tis time we twain
Did show ourselves 'i the field ; and to that end
Assemble we immediate council : Pompey
Thrives in our idleness.
Lep. To-morrow, Caesar,
I shall be furnish'd to inform you rightly
Both what by sea and land I can be able
To front this present time.
CCES. Till which encounter
It is my business too. Farewell. [meantime
Lep. Farewell, my lord : what you shall know
Of stirs abroad, I shall beseech you, sir,
To let me be partaker.
Cces. Doubt not, sir ;
I knew it for my bond. [Exeunt.
SCENE V. ALEXANDRIA. A Room in the
Palace.
Enter CLEOPATRA, CHARMIAN, IRAS, and
MARDIAN.
Cleo. Charmian,
Char. Madam?
Cleo. Ha, ha !
Give me to drink mandragora.
SCENE V.]
ANTONY AND CLEOPATRA.
895
Char. Why, madam?
Cleo. That I might sleep out this great gap
of time
My Antony is away.
Char. ' You think of him too much.
Cleo. O, 'tis treason !
Char. Madam, I trust, not so.
Cleo. Thou, eunuch Mardian !
Mar. What 's your highness' pleasure?
Cleo. Not now to hear thee sing ; I take no
pleasure
In aught an eunuch has : 'tis well for thee
That, being unseminar'd, thy freer thoughts
May not fly forth of Egypt. Hast thou affec-
tions?
Mar. Yes, gracious madam.
Cleo. Indeed! '[nothing
Mar. Not in deed, madam; for I can do
But what indeed is honest to be done :
Yet have I fierce affections, and think
What Venus did with Mars.
Cleo. O Charrm'an,
Where think'st thou he is now? Stands he or
sits he ?
Or does he walk? or is he on his horse?
O happy horse to bear the weight of Antony !
Do bravely, horse ! for wott'st thou whom thou
mov'st?
The demi-Atlas of this earth, the arm
And burgonet of men. He 's speaking now,
Or murmuring, Where's my serpent of old Nile?
For so he calls me. Now I feed myself
With most delicious poison : think on me,
That am with Phoebus' amorous pinches black,
And wrinkled deep in time? Broad-fronted
Caesar,
When thou wast here above the ground I was
A morsel for a monarch : and great Pompey
Would stand and make his eyes grow in my
brow;
There would he anchor his aspect and die
With looking on his life.
Enter ALEXAS.
Alex. Sovereign of Egypt, hail !
Cleo. How much unlike art thou Mark
Antony ! [hath
Yet, coming from him, that great medicine
With his tinct gilded thee.
How goes it with my brave Mark Antony?
Alex. Last thing he did, dear queen,
He kiss'd, the last of many doubled kisses,
This orient pearl: his speech sticks in my
heart.
Cleo. Mine ear must pluck it thence.
Alex. Good friend ', quoth he,
Say, the firm Roman to great Egypt sends
This treasure of an oyster; at whose foot,
To mend the petty present, I will piece
Her opulent throne "with kingdoms ; all the east,
Say thou, shall call her mistress. So he
nodded,
And soberly did mount an arm-girt steed,
Who neigh'd so high that what I would have
spoke
Was beastly dumb'd by him.
Cleo. What, was he sad or merry?
Alex. Like to the time o' the year between
the extremes
Of hot and cold, he was nor sad nor merry.
Cleo. O well-divided disposition! Note him,
Note him, good Charmian, 'tis the man ; but
note him :
He was not sad, for he would shine on those
That make their looks by his; he was not
merry,
Which seem'd to tell them his remembrance lay
In Egypt with his joy ; but between both :
heavenly mingle ! Be'st thou sad or merry,
The violence of either thee becomes,
So does it no man else. Mett'st thou my posts?
Alex. Ay, madam, twenty several messengers :
Why do you send so thick?
Cleo. Who 's born that day
When I forget to send to Antony
Shall die a beggar. Inkandpaper,Charmian.
Welcome, my good Alexas. Did I, Charmian,
Ever love Caesar so?
Char. O that brave Caesar ?
Cleo. Be chok'd with such another emphasis !
Say, the brave Antony.
Char. The valiant Caesar !
Cleo. By Isis, I will give thee bloody teeth
If thou with Caesar paragon again
My man of men.
Char. By your most gracious pardon,
1 sing but after you.
Cleo. My salad days,
When I was green in judgment : cold in blood,
To say as I said then ! but, come, away ;
Get me ink and paper : he shall have every day
A several greeting, or I '11 unpeople Egypt.
[Exeunt.
ACT II.
SCENE I. MESSINA. A Room in POMPEY'S
House.
Enter POMPEY, MENECRATES, and MENAS.
Pom. If the great gods be just, they shall
assist
The deeds of justest man.
896
ANTONY AND CLEOPATRA.
[ACT IL
Mene. Know, worthy Pompey,
That what they do delay they not deny.
Pom. Whiles we are suitors to their throne,
decays
The thing we sue for.
Mene. We, ignorant of ourselves,
Beg often our own harms, which the wise powers
Deny us for our good ; so find we profit
By losing of our prayers.
Pom. I shall do well :
The people love me, and the sea is mine ;
My powers are crescent, and my auguring hope
Says it will come to the full. Mark Antony
In Egypt sits at dinner, and will make
No wars without doors : Caesar gets money where
He loses hearts : Lepidus flatters both,
Of both is flatter' d; but he neither loves
Nor either cares for him.
Men. Caesar and Lepidus
Are in the field : a mighty strength they carry.
Pom. Where have you this? 'tis false.
Men. From Silvius, sir.
Pom. He dreams: I know they are in Rome
together,
Looking for Antony. But all the charms of love,
Salt Cleopatra, soften thy wan'd lip !
Let witchcraft join with beauty, lust with both !
Tie up the libertine in a field of feasts,
Keep his brain fuming ; Epicurean cooks
Sharpen with cloyless sauce his appetite ;
That sleep and feeding may prorogue his honour
Even till a Lethe'd dullness.
Enter VARRIUS.
How now, Varrius !
Var. This is most certain that I shall
deliver :
Mark Antony is every hour in Rome
Expected : since he went from Egypt 'tis
A space for further travel.
Pom. I could have given less matter
A better ear. Menas, I did not think
This amorous surfeiter would have donn'd his
helm
For such a petty war ; his soldiership
Is twice the other twain : but let us rear
The higher our opinion, that our stirring
Can from the lap of Egypt's widow pluck
The ne'er lust-wearied Antony.
Men. I cannot hope
Caesar and Antony shall well greet together :
His wife that 's dead did trespasses to Caesar ;
His brother warr'd upon him ; although, I think,
Not mov'd by Antony.
Pom. I know not, Menas,
How lesser enmities may give way to greater.
Were 't not that we stand up against them all,
'Twere pregnant they should square between
themselves ;
For they have entertained cause enough
To draw their swords : but how the fear of us
May cement their divisions, and bind up
The petty difference, we yet not know.
Be 't as our gods will have 't ! It only stands
Our lives upon to use our strongest hands.
Come, Menas. [Exeunt.
SCENE II. ROME. A Room in the House of
LEPIDUS.
Enter ENOBARBUS and LEPIDUS.
Lep. Good Enobarbus, 'tis a worthy deed,
And shall become you well, to entreat your
captain
To soft and gentle speech.
Eno. I shall entreat him
To answer like himself : if Caesar move him,
Let Antony look over Caesar's head,
And speak as loud as Mars. By Jupiter,
Were I the wearer of Antonius* beard,
I would not shave 't to-day.
Lep. 'Tis not a time
For private stomaching.
Eno. Every time
Serves for the matter that is then born in 't.
Lep. But small to greater matters must give
way.
Eno. Not if the small come first.
Lep. Your speech is passion :
But, pray you, stir no embers up. Here conies
The noble Antony.
Enter ANTONY and VENTIDIUS.
Eno. And yonder Cassar.
Enter CESAR, MEC^ENAS, WMTAGRIPPA.
Ant. If we compose well here, to Parthia :
Hark, Ventidius.
Cces. I do not know,
Mecaenas ; ask Agrippa.
Lep. Noble friends, [not
That which combin'd us was most great, and let
A leaner action rend us. What 's amiss,
May it be gently heard : when we debate
Our trivial difference loud, w do commit
Murder in healing wounds: then, noble
partners,
The rather for I earnestly beseech, [terms,
Touch you the sourest points with sweetest
Nor curstness grow to the matter.
Ant. 'Tis spoken well.
Were we before our armies, and to fight,
I should do thus.
SCENE II.]
ANTONY AND CLEOPATRA.
Ces. Welcome to Rome.
Ant. Thank you.
Cces. Sit
Ant. Sit, sir.
Cess. Nay, then.
Ant. I learn, you take things ill which are
not so,
Or being, concern you not.
Cess. I must be laugh'd at
If, or for nothing or a little, I
Should say myself offended, and with you
Chiefly i' the world; more laugh'd at that I
should [name
Once name you derogately, when to sound your
It not concern'd me.
Ant. My being in Egypt, Caesar,
What was't to you?
Cces. No more than my residing here at Rome
Might be to you in Egypt : yet, if you there
Did practise on my state, your being in Egypt
Might be my question.
Ant. How intend you, practis'd?
Cas. You may be pleas'd to catch at mine
intent [brother
By what did here befall me, Your wife and
Made wars upon me ; and their contestation
Was theme for you, you were the word of war.
Ant. You do mistake your business; my
brother never
Did urge me in his act : I did inquire it ;
And have my learning from some true reports
That drew their swords with you. Did he not
rather
Discredit my authority with yours ;
And make the wars alike against my stomach,
Having alike your cause? Of this my letters
Before did satisfy you. If you '11 patch a quarrel
As matter whole you have not to make it with,
It must not be with this.
Cas. You praise yourself
By laying defects of judgment to me; but
You patch'd up your excuses.
Ant. Not so, not so ;
I know you could not lack, I am certain on 't,
Very necessity of this thought, that I,
Your partner in the cause 'gainst which he
fought,
Could not with graceful eyes attend those wars
Which 'fronted mine own peace. As for my wife,
I would you had her spirit in such another :
The third o' the world is yours ; which with a
snaffle
You may pao* easy, but not such a wife.
Eno. Would we had all such wives, that the
men
Might go to wars with the women.
Ant. Somuchuncurrjable^hergarboil3,Gesar,
Made out of her impatience, which not wanted
Shrewdness of policy too, I grieving grant
Did you toe much disquiet : for that you must
But say I could not help it.
Cces. I wrote to you
When rioting in Alexandria; you
Did pocket up my letters, and with taunts
Did gibe my missive out of audience.
Ant. Sir,
He fell upon me ere admitted : then
Three kings I had newly feasted, and did want
Of what I was i' the morning : but next day
I told him of myself; which was as much
As to have ask'd him pardon. Let this fellow
Be nothing of our strife; if we contend,
Out of our question wipe him.
Cces. You have broken
The article of your oath ; which you shall never
Have tongue to charge me with.
Lep. Soft, Caesar !
Ant. No, Lepidus, let him speak :
The honour is sacred which he talks on now,
Supposing that I lack'd it. But on, Caesar;
The article of my oath.
Cces. To lend me arms and aid when I re-
quir'd them ;
The which you both denied.
Ant. Neglected, rather;
And then when poison'd hours had bound me up
From mine own knowledge. As nearly as I may,
I '11 play the penitent to you: but mine honesty
Shall not make poor my greatness, nor my
power
Work without it. Truth is, that Fulvia,
To have me out of Egypt, made wars here ;
For which myself, the ignorant motive, do
So far ask pardon as befits mine honour
To stoop in such a case.
Lep. 'Tis noble spoken.
Mec. If it might please you to enforce no
further
The griefs between ye : to forget them quite
Were to remember that the present need
Speaks to atone you.
Lep. Worthily spoken, Mecaenas.
Eno. Or, if you borrow one another's love
for the instant, you may, when you hear no
more words of Pompey, return it again: you
shall have time to wrangle in when you have
nothing else to do.
Ant. Thou art a soldier only : speak no more.
Eno. That truth should be silent I had
almost forgot.
Ant. You wrong this presence; therefore
speak no more
Eno. Go to, then ; your considerate stone.
Cees. I do not much dislike the matter, but
898
ANTONY AND CLEOPATRA.
[ACT ii.
The manner of his speech ; for 't cannot be
We shall remain in friendship, our conditions
So differing in their acts. Yet, if I knew
What hoop should hold us stanch, from edge
to edge
O' the world I would pursue it.
Agr. Give me leave, Caesar,
Czs. Speak, Agrippa.
Agr. Thou hast a sister by the mother's side,
Admir'd Octavia : great Mark Antony
Is now a widower.
Cess. Say not so, Agrippa :
If Cleopatra heard you, your reproof
Were well deserv'd of rashness.
Ant. I am not married, Caesar : let me hear
Agrippa further speak.
Agr. To hold you in perpetual amity,
To make you brothers, and to knit your hearts
With an unslipping knot, take Antony
Octavia to his wife ; whose beauty claims
No worse a husband than the best of men ;
Whose virtue and whose general graces speak
That which none else can utter. By this
marriage,
All little jealousies, which now seem great,
And all great fears, which now import their
dangers, [tales,
Would then be nothing : truths would then be
Where now half tales be truths : her love to both
Would, each to other and all loves to both,
Draw after her. Pardon what I have spoke ;
For 'tis a studied, not a present thought,
By duty ruminated.
Ant. Will Caesar speak?
Cces. Not till he hears how Antony is touch'd
With what is spoke already.
Ant. What power is in Agrippa,
If I would say, Agrippa^ be it so y
To make this good?
Cces. The power of Caesar, and
His power unto Octavia.
Ant. May I never
To this good purpose, that so fairly shows,
Dream of impediment ! Let me have thy hand :
Further this act of grace ; and from this hour
The heart of brothers govern in our loves
And sway our great designs !
Cas. There is my hand.
A sister I bequeath you, whom no brother
Did ever love so dearly : let her live
To join our kingdoms and our hearts ; and never
Fly off our loves again !
Lep. Happily, amen !
Ant. I did not think to draw my sword
'gainst Pompey;
For he hath laid strange courtesies and great
Of late upon me : I must thank him only,
Lest my remembrance suffer ill report;,
At heel of that, defy him.
Lep. Time calls upon 's :
Of us must Pompey presently be sought,
Or else he seeks out us.
Ant. Where lies he?
Cas. About the Mount Misenum.
Ant. What 's his strength
By land?
Cess. Great and increasing : but by sea
He is an absolute master.
Ant. So is the fame.
Would we had spoke together ! Haste we for it:
Yet, ere we put ourselves in arms, despatch we
The business we have talk'd of.
Cces. With most gladness ;
And do invite you to my sister's view, y ted
Whither straight I '11 lead you.
Ant. Let us, Lepidus,
Not lack your company.
Lep. Noble Antony,
Not sickness should detain me.
[Flourish. Exeunt CMS., ANT., and LEP.
Mec. Welcome from Egypt, sir.
Eno. Half the heart of Caesar, worthy
Mecaenas ! my honourable friend, Agrippa !
Agr. Good Enobarbus !
Mec. We have cause to be glad that matter?
are so well digested. You stay'd well by it in
Egypt.
Eno. Ay, sir; we did sleep day out of cJun-
tenance, and made the night light with drinking.
Mec. Eight wild boars roasted whole at a
breakfast, and but twelve persons there; is
this true?
Eno. This was but as a fly by an eagle : we
had much more monstrous matter of feasts,
which worthily deserved noting.
Mec. She's a most triumphant lady, if
report be square to her.
Eno. When she first met Mark Antony she
pursed up his heart, upon the river of Cydnus.
Agr. There she appeared indeed ; or my
reporter devised well for her.
Eno. I will tell you.
The barge she sat in, like a burnish'd throne,
Burn'd on the water : the poop was beaten gold ;
Purple the sails, and so perfumed that
The winds were love-sick with them ; the oars
were silver, [made
Which to the tune of flutes kept stroke, and
The water which they beat to follow faster,
As amorous of their strokes. For her own
person,
It beggar d all description : she did lie
In her pavilion, cloth-of-gold of tissue,--
O'er-picturing that Venus where we see
SCENE II.]
ANTONY AND CLEOPATRA.
99
The fancy out-work nature : on each side her
Stood pretty dimpled boys, like smiling Cupids,
With divers-colourM fans, whose wind did
seem
To glow the delicate cheeks which they did
cool,
And what they undid did.
Agr. O, rare for Antony !
Eno. Her gentlewomen, like the Nereids,
So many mermaids, tended her i' the eyes,
And made their bends adornings : at the helm
A seeming mermaid steers : the silken tackle
Swell with the touches of those flower-soft
hands
That yarely frame the office. From the barge
A strange invisible perfume hits the sense
Of the adjacent wharfs. The city cast
Her people out upon her ; and Antony,
Enthron'd i' the market-place, did sit alone,
Whistling to the air ; which, but for vacancy,
Had gone to gaze on Cleopatra too,
And made a gap in nature.
Agr. Rare Egyptian !
Eno. Upon her landing, Antony sent to her,
Invited her to supper: she replied
It should be better he became her guest ;
Which she entreated : our courteous Antony
Whom ne'er the word of No woman heard
speak,
Being barber'd ten times o'er, goes to the
feast,
And, for his ordinary, pays his heart
For what his eyes eat only.
Agr. Royal wench !
She made great Caesar lay his sword to bed :
He plough'd her, and she cropp'd.
Eno. I saw her once
Hop forty paces through the public street ;
And having lost her breath, she spoke and
panted,
That she did make defect perfection,
And, breathless, power breathe forth.
Mec. Now Antony must leave her utterly.
Eno. Never ; he will not :
Age cannot wither her, nor custom stale
Her infinite variety: other women cloy
The appetites they feed ; but she makes hungry
Where most she satisfies : for vilest things
Become themselves in her ; that the holy priests
Bless her when she is riggish.
Mec* If beauty, wisdom, modesty, can settle
The heart of Antony, Octavia is
A blessed lottery to him.
Agr. Let us go.t-
Good Encbarbus. make yourself my guest
Whilst you abide here.
Eno. Humbly, sir, I thank you. [Exeunt.
SCENE III. ROME. A Room in OESAR'S
House.
Enter CESAR, ANTONY, OCTAVIA between
them, and Attendants.
Ant. The world and my great office will
sometimes
Divide me from your bosom.
Octa. All which time
Before the gods my knee shall bow my prayers
To them for you.
Ant. Good-night, sir. My Octavia,
Read not my blemishes in the world's report :
I have not kept my square ; but that to come
Shall all be done by the rule. Good-night,
dear lady.
Octa. Good-night, sir.
Cces. Good-night [Exeunt CES. and OCTA.
Enter Soothsayer.
Ant. Now, sirrah, you do wish yourself in
Egypt ? [nor you
Sooth. Would I had never come from thence,
Thither I
Ant. If you can, your reason ?
Sooth. I see it in
My motion, have it not in my tongue : but yet
Hie you to Egypt again.
Ant. Say to me, [mine ?
Whose fortunes shall rise higher, Caesar's 01
Sooth. Caesar's
Therefore, O Antony, stay not by his side :
Thydemon, that 's thy spirit which keeps thee, is
Noble, courageous, high, unmatchable,
Where Caesar's is not ; but near him thy angel
Becomes afear'd, as being o'erpower'd : therefore
Make space enough between you.
Ant. Speak this no more.
Sooth. To none but thee ; no more but when
to thee.
If thou dost play with him at any game,
Thou art sure to lose ; and of that natural luck
He beats thee 'gainst the odds : thy lustre
thickens
When he shines by : I say again, thy spirit
Is all afraid to govern thee near him ;
But, he away, 'tis noble.
Ant. Get thee gone :
Say to Ventidius I would speak with him :
[Exit Soothsayer
He shall to Parthia. Be it art or hap,
He hath spoken true : the very dice obey him ;
And in our sports my better cunning faints
Under his chance : if we draw lots he speeds 5
His cocks do win the battle still of mine,
When it is all to naught ; and his quails ever
goo
ANTONY AND CLEOPATRA.
[ACT n.
Beat mine, inhoop'd, at odds. I will to Egypt :
And though I make this marriage for my peace,
I' the east my pleasure lies.
Enter VENTIDIUS.
O, come, Ventidius,
You must to Parthia : your commission's ready ;
Follow me and receive it. \Exetint.
SCENE IV. ROME. A Street.
Enter LEPIDUS, MEC^ENAS, and AGRIPPA.
Lep. Trouble yourselves no further : pray
you, hasten
Your generals after.
Agr. Sir, Mark Antony
Win e'en but kiss Octavia, and we '11 follow.
Lep. Till I shall see you in your soldier's dress,
Which will become you both, farewell.
Mec. We shall,
As I conceive the journey, be at the mount
Before you, Lepidus,
Lep. Your way is shorter ;
My purposes do draw me much about :
You '11 win two days upon me.
Mec. and Agr. Sir, good success !
Lep. Farewell. {Exeunt.
SCENE V. ALEXANDRIA. A Room in the
Palace.
, CHARMIAN, IRAS, ALEXAS,
and Attendants.
Cleo. Give me some music, music, moody
food
Of us that trade in love.
Attend. The music, ho !
Enter MARDIAN,
Cleo. Let it alone ; let 's to billiards :
Come, Charmian.
Char. My arm is sore ; best play with Mardian.
Cleo. As well a woman with an eunuch play'd
As with a woman. Come, you '11 play with me,
sir?
Mar. As well as I can, madam.
Cleo. And when good- will is show'd, though 't
come too short,
The actor may plead pardon. I '11 none nqw :
Give me mine angle, we '11 to the river : there,
My music playing far off, I will betray
Tawny-finn d fi shes ; my bended hook shall pierce
Their slimy jaws ; and as I draw them up
I '11 think them every one an Antony,
And say, Ah ha / you* re caught.
Char. 'Twas merry when
You wager'd on your angling ; when your diver
Did hang a salt fish on his hook, which he
With fervency drew up.
Cleo. That time, O times !-^
I laugh'd him out of patience ; and that night
I laugh'd him into patience : and next morn,
Ere the ninth hour, I drunk him to his bed ;
Then put my tires and mantles on him, whilst
I wore his sword Philippan.
Enter a Messenger.
O ! from Italy !
Ram thou thy fruitful tidings in mine ears,
That long time have been barren.
Mess. Madam, madam,
Cleo. Antony 's dead !
If thou say so, villain, thou kill'st thy mistress .
But well and free,
If thou so yield him, there is gold, and here
My bluest veins to kiss, a hand that kings
Have lipp'd, and trembled kissing.
Mess. First, madam, he 's well.
Cleo. Why, there 's more gold. But, sirrah,
mark, we use
To say the dead are well : bring it to that,
The geld I give thee will I melt and pour
Down thy ill -uttering throat.
Mess. Good madam, hear me.
Cleo. Well, go to, I will ;
But there 's no goodness in thy face : if Antony
Be free and healthful, why so tart a favour
Tc trumpet such good tidings ! If not well,
Thou shouldst come like a fury crowu'd with
snakes,
Not like a formal man.
Mess. Will 't please you hear me?
Cleo. I have a mind to strike thee ere thou
speak'st :
Yet, if thou say Antony lives, is well,
Or friends with Caesar, or not captive to him,
I '11 set thee in a shower of gold, and hail
Rich pearls upon thee.
Mess. Madam, he 's well.
Cleo. Well said.
Mess. And friends with Caesar.
Cleo. Thou 'rt an honest man.
Mess. Caesar and be are greater friends than
ever.^i*^!;!
Cleo. Make thee a fortune from me.
Mess. But yet, madam,
Cleo. I do not like but yet, it does allay
The good precedence ; fie upon but yet !
But yet is as a gaoler to bring forth
Some monstrous malefactor. Pr'ythee, friend,
Pour out the pack of matter to mine ear,
The good and bad together : he 's friends with
Caesar ; [free.
In state of health, thou say'st ; and, thou say'st,
SCENE V.]
ANTONY AND CLEOPATRA.
901
Mess. Free, madam! no; I made no such
report :
He 's bound unto Octavia.
Cleo. For what good turn ?
Mess. For the best turn i' the bed.
Cleo. I am pale, Charmian.
Mess. Madam, he 's married to Octavia.
Cleo. The most infectious pestilence upon
thee ! [Strikes him down.
Mess. Good madam, patience.
Cleo. What say you ? Hence,
[Strikes hint again.
Horrible villain ! or I '11 spurn thine eyes
Like balls before me; I '11 unhair thy head :
[She hales him up and down.
Thou shalt be whipp'd with wire and stew'd in
brine,
Smarting in ling'ring pickle.
Mess. Gracious madam,
I that do bring the news made not the match.
Cleo. Say 'tis not so, a province I will give
thee, [hadst
And make thy fortunes proud : the blow thou
Shall make thy peace for moving me to rage ;
And I will boot thee with what gift beside
Thy modesty can beg.
Mess. He 's married, madam.
Cleo. Rogue, thou hast liv'd too long.
[Draws a dagger.
Mess. Nay, then I '11 run.
What mean you, madam? I have made no
fault. [Exit.
Char. Good madam, keep yourself within
yourself:
The man is innocent.
Cleo. Some innocents scape not the thunder-
bolt.
Melt Egypt into Nile ! and kindly creatures
Turn all to serpents ! Call the slave again :
Though I am mad, I will not bite him : call.
Char. He is afear'd to come.
Cleo. I will not hurt him.
[Exit CHARMIAN.
These hands do lack nobility, that they strike
A meaner than myself ; since I myself
Have given myself the cause.
Re-enter CHARMIAN and Messenger.
Come hither, sir.
Though it be honest, it is never good
To bring bad news : give to a gracious message
An host of tongues ; but let ill tidings tell
Themselves when they be felt.
Mess. I have done my duty.
Cleo. Is he married ?
I cannot hate thee worser than I do
If thou again say Yes.
Mess. He is married, madam.
Cleo. The gods confound thee 1 dost thou hold
there still I
Mess. Should I lie, madam ?
Cleo. O, I would thou didst,
So half my Egypt were submerg'd, and made
A cistern for scal'd snakes ! Go, get thee hence :
Hadst thou Narcissus in thy face, to me
Thou wouldst appear most ugly. He is married ?
Mess. I crave your hignness 3 pardon.
Cleo. He is married ?
Mess, Take no offence that I would not
offend you :
To punish me for what you make me do
Seems much unequal : he is married to Octavia.
Cleo. O that his fault should make a knave of
thee, [hence :
Thou art not what thou 'rt sure of ! Get thee
The merchandise which thou hast brought from
Rome [hand,
Are all too dear for me: lie they upon thy
And be undone by 3 em ! [Exit Messenger.
Char. Good your highness, patience.
Cleo. In praising Antony I have disprais*d
Caesar.
Char. Many times, madam.
Cleo. I am paid for \ now.
Lead me from hence ;
I faint : O Iras, Charmian ! 'tis no matter.
Go to the fellow, good Alexas ; bid him
Report the feature of Octavia, her years,
Her inclination, let him not leave out
The colour of her hair : bring me word quickly.
[Exit ALEXAS.
Let him for ever go: let him not Charmian,
Though he be painted one way like a Gorgon,
T' other way he 's a Mars. Bid you Alexas
[To MARDIAN.
Bring me word how tall she is. Pity me,
Charmian,
But do not speak to me. Lead me to my
chamber. [Exeunt.
SCENE VI. Near Misenum.
Flourish. Enter POMPEY and MENAS at one
side, with drum and trumpet ; at the other,
CESAR, /NTONY, LEPIDUS, ENOBARBUS,
MEC^ENAS, with Soldiers marching.
Pom. Your hostages I have, so have you mine ;
And we shall talk before we fight.
Cces. Most meet
That first we come to words ; and therefore have
we
Our written purposes before us sent ;
Which, if thou hast considerM, let us know
If 'twill tie up thy discontented sword,
902
ANTONY AND CLEOPATRA.
[ACT II.
And carry back to Sicily much tall youth
That else must perish here.
Pom. To you all three,
The senators alone of this great world,
Chief factors for the gods, I do not know
Wherefore my father should revengers want,
Having a son and friends ; since Julius Csesar,
Who at Philippi the good Brutus ghosted,
There saw you labouring for him. What was 't
That mov'd pale Cassius to conspire ; and what
Made the all-honour'd, honest Roman, Brutus,
With the arm'd rest, courtiers of beauteous
freedom,
To drench the Capitol, but that they would
Have one man but a man? And that is it
Hath made me rig my navy ; at whose burden
The anger'd ocean foams ; with which I meant
To scourge the ingratitude that despiteful Rome
Cast on my noble father.
Cess. Take your time.
Ant. Thou canst not fear us, Pompey, with
thy sails ;
We'll speak with thee at sea: at land thou
know'st
How much we do o ? er-count thee.
Pom. At land, indeed,
Thou dost o'er-count me of my father's house :
But, since the cuckoo builds not for himself,
Remain in 't as thou mayst.
Lep. Be pleas'd to tell us,
For this is from the present, how you take
The offers we have sent you.
Cess. There 's the point.
Ant. Which do not be entreated to, but weigh
What it is worth embrac'd.
Cess. And what may follow,
To try a larger fortune.
Pom. You have made me offer
Of Sicily, Sardinia ; and I must
Rid all the sea of pirates ; then to send
Measures of wheat to Rome ; this 'greed upon,
To part with unhack'd edges, and bear back
Our targes undinted.
Cas. , Ant. , and Lep. That 's our offer.
Pom. Know, then,
I came before you here a man prepar'd
To take this offer : but Mark Antony
Put me to some impatience : though I lose
The praise of it by telling, you must know,
When Caesar and your brother were at blows,
Your mother came to Sicily, and did find
Her welcome friendly.
Ant. I have heard it, Pompey ;
And am well studied for a liberal thanks
Which I do owe you.
Pom. Let me have your hand :
I did not think, sir, to have met you here.
Ant. The beds i' the east are soft; and,
thanks to you, [hither ;
That call'd me, timelier than my purpose,
For I have gain'd by it.
Czs. Since I saw you last
There is a change upon you.
Pom. Well, I know not
What counts harsh fortune casts upon my face \
But in my bosom shall she never come
To make my heart her vassal.
Lep. Well met here.
Pom. I hope so, Lepidus. Thus we are
agreed :
I crave our composition may be written,
And seal'd between us.
Cas. That 's the next to do.
Pom. We'll feast each other ere we part;
and let 's
Draw lots who shall begin.
Ant. That will I, Pompey.
Pom. No, Antony, take the lot : but, first
Or last, your fine Egyptian cookery [Csesar
Shall have the fame. I have heard that Julius
Grew fat with feasting there.
Ant. You have heard much.
Pom. I have fair meanings, sir.
Ant. And fair words to them.
Pom. Then so much have I heard :
And I have heard Apollodorus carried,
Eno. No more of that: he did so.
Pom. What, I pray you?
Eno. A certain queen to Csesar in a mattress.
Pom. I know thee now: how far'st thou,
soldier?
Eno. Well-,
And well am like to do ; for I perceive
Four feasts are toward.
Pom. Let me shake thy hand ;
I never hated thee : I have seen thee fight,
When I have envied thy behaviour.
Eno. Sir,
I never lov'd you much ; but I ha' prais'd ye,
When you have well deserv'd ten times as much
As I have said you did.
Pom. Enjoy thy plainness,
It nothing ill becomes thee.
Aboard my galley I invite you all :
Will you lead, lords?
Cces. , Ant. , and Lep. Show us the way, sir.
Pom. Come.
{Exeunt all but MEN. and ENO.
Men. {Aside.'} Thy father, Pompey, would
ne'er have made this treaty. You and I have
known, sir.
Eno. At sea, I think.
Men. We have, sir.
Eno. You have done well by water.
SCENE VI. j
ANTONY AND CLEOPATRA.
903
Men. And you by land.
Eno. I will praise any man that will praise
me ; though it cannot be denied what I have
done by land.
Men. Nor what I have done by water.
Eno. Yes, something you can deny for your
own safety: you have been a great thief by
sea.
Men. And you by land.
Eno. There I deny my land service. But give
me your hand, Menas : if our eyes had authority,
here they might take two thieves kissing.
Men. All men's faces are true, whatsoe'er
their hands are.
Eno. But there is never a fair woman has a
true face.
Men. No slander ; they steal hearts.
Eno. We came hither to fight with you.
Men. For my part, I am sorry it is turned to
a drinking. Pompey doth this day laugh away
his fortune.
Eno. If he do, sure, he cannot weep it back
again.
Men. You have said, sir. We looked not
for Mark Antony here : pray you, is he married
to Cleopatra?
Eno. Caesar's sister is called Octavia.
Men. True, sir ; she was the wife of Caius
Marcellus.
Eno. But she is now the wife of Marcus
Antonius.
Men. Pray you, sir?
Eno. 'Tis true.
Men. Then is Caesar and he for ever knit to-
gether.
Eno. If I were bound to divine of this unity,
I would not prophesy so.
Men. I think the policy of that purpose made
more in the marriage than the love of the parties.
Eno. I think so too. But you shall find the
band that seems to tie their friendship together
will be the very strangler of their amity : Oc-
tavia is of a holy, cold, and still conversation.
Men. Who would not have his wife so?
Eno. Not he that himself is not so ; which is
Mark Antony. He will to his Egyptian dish
again : then shall the sighs of Octavia blow the
fire up in Caesar; and, as I said before, that
which is the strength of their amity shall
prove the immediate author of their variance.
Antony will use his affection where it is : he
married but his occasion here.
Men. And thus it may be. Come, sir, will
you aboard? I have a health for you.
Eno. I shall take it, sir : we have used our
throats in Egypt.
Men. Come, let 's away. [Exeunt.
SCENE VII. On board POMPEY'S Galley , lying
near Misenum.
Music. Enter two or three Servants with a
banquet.
1 Serv. Here they'll be, man. Some o*
their plants are ill-rooted already; the least
wind i' the world will blow them down.
2 Serv. Lepidus is high-coloured.
1 Serv. They have made him drink alms-drink.
2 Serv. As they pinch one another by the
disposition, he cries out, no more; reconciles
them to his entreaty and himself to the drinK.
1 Serv. But it raises the greater war between
him and his discretion.
2 Serv. Why, this it is to have a name in
great men's fellowship: I had as lief have a
reed that will do me no service as a partizan I
could not heave.
I Serv. To be called into a huge sphere, and
not to be seen to move in 't, are the holes where
eyes should be, which pitifully disaster the
cheeks.
A senntt sounded. Enter CESAR, ANTONY,
LEPIDUS, POMPEY, AGRIPPA, MEC^ENAS,
ENOBARBUS, MENAS, with other Captains.
Ant. [To OESAR.] Thus do they, sir: they
take the flow o' the Nile
By certain scales i' the pyramid ; they know,
By the height, the lowness, or the mean, if
dearth
Or foison follow : the higher Nilus swells
The more it promises : as it ebbs, the seedsman
Upon the slime and ooze scatters his grain,
And shortly comes to harvest.
Lep. You 've strange serpents there.
Ant. Ay, Lepidus.
Lep. Your serpent of Egypt is bred now of
your mud by the operation of your sun : so is
your crocodile.
Ant. They are so. [Lepidus !
Pom. Sit, and some wine! A health to
Lep. I am not so well as I should be, but
I '11 ne'er out.
Eno. Not till you have slept; I fear me
you '11 be in till then.
Lep. Nay, certainly, I have heard the
Ptolemies' pyramises are very goodly things;
without contradiction, I have heard that
Men. [Aside to POM.] Pompey, a word.
Pom. [Aside to MEN.] Say in mine ear: what
is't?
Men. [Aside to POM.] Forsake thy seat, I do
beseech thee, captain,
And hear me speak a word.
904
ANTONY AND CLEOPATRA.
[ACT II.
Pom. [Aside fo MEN.] Forbear me till
anon.
This wine for Lepidus !
Lep. What manner o' thing is your crocodile?
Ant. It is shaped, sir, like itself; and it is as
broad as it hath breadth: it is just so high as it
is, and moves with its own organs : it lives by
that which nourisheth it; and, the elements
once out of it, it transmigrates.
Lep. What colour is it of?
Ant. Of its own colour too.
Lep. 'Tis a strange serpent.
Ant. 'Tis so. And the tears of it are wet.
Cess. Will this description satisfy him?
Ant. With the health that Pompey gives
him, else he is a very epicure.
Pom. [Aside to MEN.] Go, hang, sir, hang!
Tell me of that? away !
Do as I bid you. Where 's this cup I call'd for?
Men. [Aside to POM. ] If for the sake of merit
thou wilt hear me,
Rise from thy stool.
Pom. [Aside to MEN.] I think thou'rt mad.
The matter? [Rises and walks aside.
Men. I have ever held my cap off to thy
fortunes.
Pom. Thou hast serv'd me with much faith.
What 's else to say?
Be jolly, lords.
Ant. These quicksands, Lepidus,
Keep off them, for you sink.
Men. Wilt thou be lord of all the world?
Pom. What say'st thou?
Men. Wilt thou be lord of the whole world?
That 's twice.
Pom. How should that be?
Men. But entertain it, and,
Although thou think me poor, I am the man
Will give thee all the world.
Pom. Hast thou drunk well ?
Men. No, Pompey, I have kept me from
the cup.
Thou art, if thou dar'st be, the earthly Jove :
Whate'er the ocean pales or sky inclips
Is thine, if thou wilt have 't.
Pom. Show me which way.
Men. These three world-sharers, these com-
petitors,
Are in thy vessel : let me cut the cable ;
And, when we are put off, fall to their throats :
All then is thine.
Pont. Ah, this thou shouldst have done,
And not have spoke on 't ! In me 'tis villany ;
In thee 't had been good service. Thou must
know
'Tis not my profit that does lead mine honour ;
Mine honour it. Repent that e'er thy tongue
Hath so betray'd thine act: being done un-
known,
I should have found it afterwards well done ;
But must condemn it now. Desist, and drink.
Men. [Aside.} For this
I '11 never follow thy pall'd fortunes more.
Who seeks, and will not take when once 'tis
offer'd. >
Shall never find it more.
Pom. This health to Lepidus !
Ant. Bear him ashore. I '11 pledge it for him,
Pompey.
Eno. Here 's to thee, Menas !
Men. Enobarbus, welcome!
Pom. Fill till the cup be hid.
Eno. There 's a strong fellow, Menas.
[Pointing to the Attendant who carries off\J&?.
Men. Why ?
Eno. 'A bears
The third part of the world, man ; see'st not?
Men. The third part, then, is drunk : would
it were all,
That it might go on wheels !
Eno. Drink thou ; increase the reels.
Men. Come.
Porn. This is not yet an Alexandrian feast.
Ant. It ripens towards it. Strike the vessels,
hoi-
Here is to Caesar !
CCBS. I could well forbear 't.
It's monstrous labour when I wash my brain
And it grows fouler.
Ant. Be a child o' the time.
Czs. Possess it, I'll make answer :
But I had rather fast from all four days
Than drink so much in one.
Eno. Ha, my brave emperor !
[To ANTONY.
Shall we dance now the Egyptian Bacchanals,
And celebrate our drink ?
Pom.' qi: Let's ha't, good soldier.
Ant. Come, let 's all take hands, [sense
Till that the conquering wine hath steep'd our
In soft and delicate Lethe.
Eno. All take hands.
Make battery to our ears with the loud music :
The while I '11 place you : then the boy shall
sing;
The holding every man shall beat as loud
As his strong sides can volley.
[Music plays. ENO. places them hand in hand.
SONG.
Come, thou monarch of the vine,
Plumpy Bacchus with pink eyne 1
In thy fats our cares be drown'd,
With thy grapes our hairs be crown'd :
Cup us, till the world go round,
Cup us, till the world go round I
SCENE VII.]
ANTONY AND CLEOPATRA.
90S
Czs. What would you more? Pompey,
good -night. Good brother,
Let me request you off: our graver business
Frowns at this levity. Gentle lords, let 'spart;
You see we have burnt our cheeks : strong
Enobarb
Is weaker than the wine ; and mine own tongue
Splits what it speaks : the wild disguise haih
almost [night.
Antick'd us all. What needs more words. Good-
Good Antony, your hand.
Pom. I '11 try you on the shore.
Ant. And shall, sir : give 's your hand.
Pom. O Antony,
You have my father's house, but, what ? we
are friends.
Come, down into the boat.
Eno. Take heed you fall not.
[Exeunf POM., CES., ANT., and Attendants.
Menas, I '11 not on shore.
Men. No, to my cabin.
These drums ! these trumpets, flutes ! what !
Let Neptune hear we bid a loud farewell
To these great fellows : sound and be hang'd,
sound out !
[A flourish of 'trumpets ', with drums.
Eno. Hoo ! says 'a. There 's my cap.
Men. Hoo ! noble captain, come. [Exeunt.
ACT III.
SCENE I. A Plain in Syria.
Enter VENTIDIUS, in triumph, with SILIUS
and other Romans, Officers, and Soldiers;
the dead, body 0/TACORUS borne in front.
Ven. Now, darting Parthia, art thou struck ;
and now
Pleas'd fortune does of Marcus Crassus' death
Make me revenger. Bear the king's son's body
Before our army. Thy Pacorus, Orodes,
Pays this for Marcus Crassus.
Sil. Noble Ventidius,
Whilst yet with Parthian blood thy sword is warm
The fugitive Parthians follow; spur through
Media,
Mesopotamia, and the shelters whither
The routed fly : so thy grand captain Antony
Shall set thee on triumphant chariots, and
Put garlands on thy head.
Ven. O Silius, Silius,
I have done enough : a lower place, note well,
May make too great an act; for learn this,
Silius,
Better to leave undone, than by our deed
Acquire too high a fame when him we serve 's
away.
Caesar and Antony have ever won
More in their officer, than person : Sossius,
One of my place in Syria, his lieutenant,
For quick accumulation of renown,
Which he achiev'd by the minute, lost his favour.
Who does i' the wars more than his captain can
Becomes his captain's captain : and ambition,
The soldier's virtue, rather makes choice of loss
Than gain which darkens him.
I could do more to do An>.onius good,
But 'twould offend him ; and in his offence
Should my performance perish.
Sil. Thou hast, Ventidius, that
Without the which a soldier and his sword
Grants scarce distinction. Thou wilt write to
Antony ?
Ven. I '11 humbly signify what in his name,
That magical word of war, we have effected ;
How, with his banners, and his well-paid ranks,
The ne'er-yet-beaten horse of Parthia
We have jaded out o } the field.
Sil. Where is he now ?
Ven. He purposeth to Athens : whither,
with what haste
The weight we must convey with 's will permit,
We shall appear before him. On, there ; pass
along ! [Exeunt.
SCENE II. ROME. An Ante-Chamber in
CESAR'S House.
Enter AGRIPPA and ENOBARBUS, meeting.
Agr. What, are the brothers parted ?
Eno. They have despatch'd with Pompey, he
is gone ;
The other three are sealing. Octavia weeps
To part from Rome: Caesar is sad; and Lepidus,
Since Pompey's feast, as Menas says, is troubled
With the green sickness.
Agr. 'Tis a noble Lepidus.
Eno. A very fine one : O, how he loves
Csesar ! [Antony !
Agr. Nay, but how dearly he adores Mark
Eno. Caesar ? Why he 's the Jupiter of men.
Agr. What 's Antony ? The god of Jupiter.
Eno. Speak you of Caesar? How! the
nonpareil !
Agr. Of Antony. O thou Arabian bird !
Eno. Would you praise Caesar, say Ctzsar,
go no further.
Agr. Indeed, he plied them both with ex-
cellent praises. [Antony :
Eno. But he loves Caesar best ; yet he loves
Hoo 1 hearts, tongues, figures, scribes, bards,
poets cannot [hoo !
Think, speak, cast, write, sing, number,
His love to Antony. But as for Caesar,
Kneel down, kneel down, and wonder.
906
ANTONY AND CLEOPATRA.
[ACT in.
Agr. Both he loves.
Eno. They are his shards, and he their beetle.
[Trumpets inithin.~\ So,
This is to horse. Adieu, noble Agrippa.
Agr. Good fortune, worthy soldier ; and
farewell.
Enter CESAR, ANTONY, LEPIDUS, ana
OCTAVIA.
Ant. No further, sir.
Cces. You take from me a great part of myself;
Use me well in't. Sister, prove such a wife
As my thoughts make thee, and as my furthest
band
Shall pass on thy approof. Most noble Antony,
Let not the piece of virtue which is set
Betwixt us as the cement of our love,
To keep it builded, be the ram to batter
The fortress of it ; for better might we
Have lov'd without this mean if on both parts
This be not cherish'd.
Ant. Make me not offended
In your distrust.
Cces. I have said.
Ant. You shall not find,
Though you be therein curious, the least cause
For what you seem to fear : so, the gods keep
you,
And make the hearts of Romans serve your ends !
We will here part. [well :
Cces. Farewell, my dearest sister, fare thee
The elements be kind to thee, and make
Thy spirits all of comfort ! Fare thee well.
Octa. My noble brother !
Ant. The April 's in her eyes : it is love's
spring, [cheerful.
And these the showers to bring it on. Be
Octa. Sir, look well to my husband's house ;
and
Cats. What,
Octavia ?
Octa. I '11 tell you in your ear.
Ant. Her tongue will not obey her heart,
nor can
Her heart inform her tongue, the swan's down
feather,
That stands upon the swell at the full of tide,
And neither way inclines.
Eno. [Aside to AGRIPPA.] Will Caesar weep?
Agr. [Aside to ENO.] He has a cloud in 's face.
: Eno. [Aside to AGRIPPA.] He were the
worse for that, were he a horse ;
So is he, being a man.
Agr. [Aside to ENO.] Why, Enobarbus,
When Antony found Julius Caesar dead,
He cried almost to roaring ; and he wept
When at Philippi he found Brutus slain.
Eno. [Aside /0 AGRIPPA.] That year, indeed,
he was troubled with a rheum ;
What willingly he did confound he wail'd :
Believe 't till I weep too.
Cces. No, sweet Octavia,
You shall hear from me still ; the time shall not
Out-go my thinking on you.
Ant. Come, sir, come ;
I '11 wrestle with you in my strength of love :
Look, here I have you ; thus I let you go,
And give you to the gods.
C(zs. Adieu ; be happy !
Lep. Let all the number of the stars give
light
To thy fair way !
Cces. Farewell, farewell ! [Kisses OCTAVIA.
Ant. Farewell !
[ Trumpets sound within. Exeunt.
SCENE III. ALEXANDRIA. A Room in the
Palace.
Enter CLEOPATRA, CHARMIAN, IRAS, and
ALEXAS.
Cleo. Where is the fellow?
Alex. Half afear'd to come.
Cleo, Go to, go to.
Enter a Messenger.
Come hither, sir.
Alex. Good majesty,
Herod of Jewry dare not look upon you
But when you are well pleas'd.
Cleo. That Herod's head
I '11 have : but how ? when Antony is gone,
Through whom I might command it? Come
thou near.
Mess. Most gracious majesty,
Cleo. Didst thou behold
Octavia ?
Mess. Ay, dread queen.
Cleo. Where?
Mess. Madam, in Rome
I look'd her in the face, and saw her led
Between her brother and Mark Antony.
Cleo. Is she as tall as me ?
Mess. She is not, madam.
Cleo. Didst hear her speak? is she shrill
tongu'd or low-?
Mess. Madam, I heard her speak ; she is
low voic'd. [her long.
Cleo. That's not so good : he cannot like
Char. Like her ! O Isis ! 'tis impossible.
Cleo. I think so, Charmian : dull of tongue
and dwarfish !
What majesty is in her gait ? Remember,
If e'er thou look'dst on majesty.
SCENE IV.]
ANTONY AND CLEOPATRA.
907
Mess. She creeps,
Her motion and her station are as one ; id HA
She shows a body rather than a life,
A statue than a breather.
Cleo. Is this certain ?
Mess. Or I have no observance.
Char. Three in Egypt
Cannot make better note.
Cleo. He 's very knowing ;
I do perceive 't : there 's nothing in her yet :
The fellow has good judgment.
Char. Excellent.
Cho. Guess at her years, I pr'ythee.
Mess. Madam,
She was a widow.
Cleo. Widow ! Charmian, hark !
Mess. And I do think she 's thirty.
Cleo. Bear'st thou her face in mind? is't
long or round ?
Mess. Round even to faultiness.
Cleo. For the most part, too, they are foolish
that are so.
Her hair, what colour?
Mess. Brown, madam : and her forehead
As low as she would wish it.
Cleo. There 's gold for thee.
Thou must not take my former sharpness ill :
I will employ thee back again ; I find thee
Most fit for business : go make thee ready ;
Our letters are prepar'd. [Exit Messenger.
Char. A proper man.
Cleo. Indeed, he is so : I repent me much
That so I harried him. Why, methinks, by him
This creature 3 s no such thing.
Char. Nothing, madam.
Cleo. The man hath seen some majesty, and
should know.
Char. Hath he seen majesty? Isis else defend,
And serving you so long !
Cleo. I have one thing more to ask him yet,
good Charmian :
But 'tis no matter ; thou shalt bring him to me
Where I will write. All may be well enough.
Char. I warrant you, madam. {Exeunt.
SCENE IV. ATHENS. A Room in
ANTONY'S House.
Enter ANTONY and OCTAVIA.
Ant. Nay, nay, Octavia, not only that,
That were excusable, that and thousands more
Of semblable import, but he hath wag'd
New wars 'gainst Pompey ; made his will, and
read it
To public ear : [not
Spoke scantly of me : when perforce he could
But pay me terms of honour, cold and sickly
He vented them ; most narrow measure lent me :
When the best hint was given him, he not took't,
Or did it from his teeth.
Octa. O my good lord,
Believe not all ; or, if you must believe,
Stomach not all. A more unhappy lady,
If this division chance, ne'er stood between,
Praying for both parts :
Sure the good gods will mock me presently
When I shall pray, 0, bless my lord and
husband!
Undo that prayer, by crying out as loud,
(9, bless my brother I Husband win, win
brother,
Prays and destroys the prayer ; no midway
'Twixt these extremes at all.
Ant. Gentle Octavia,
Let your best love draw to that point which
seeks
Best to preserve it : if I lose mine honour
I lose myself : better I were not yours
Than yours so branchless. But, as you re-
quested, [lady,
Yourself shall go between 's : the meantime,
I '11 raise the preparation of a war [haste ;
Shall stain your brother: make your soonest
So your desires are yours.
Octa. Thanks to my lord.
The Jove of power make me, most weak, most
weak, [be
Your reconciler I Wars 'twixt you twain would
As if the world should cleave, and that slain men
Should solder up the rift. shv/? r {begins,
Ant. When it appears to you where this
Turn your displeasure that way ; for our faults
Can never be so equal that your love
Can equally move with them. Provide your
going ; [cost
Choose your own company, and command what
Your heart has mind to. \Exeunt*
SCENE V. ATHENS. Another Room in
ANTONY'S House.
Enter ENOBARBUS and EROS, meeting.
Eno. How now, friend Eros !
Eros. There 's strange news come, sir.
Eno. What, man? [upon Pompey.
Eros. Caesar and Lepidus have made wars
Eno. This is old : what is the success ?
Eros. Caesar, having made use of him in the
wars 'gainst Pompey, presently denied him
rivality ; would not let him partake in the glory
of the action : and not resting here, accuses
him of letters he had formerly wrote to Pom-
pey ; upon his own appeal seizes him : so the
poor third is up, till death enlarge his confine.
908
ANTONY AND CLEOPATRA.
LACT in.
Eno. Then world, thou hast a pair of chaps,
no more ;
And throw between them all the food thou hast,
They'll grind the one the other. Where's
Antony ? [spurns
Eros. He 's walking in the garden thus ; and
The rush that lies before him ; cries, Fool
Lepidus !
And threats the throat of that his officer
That murder'd Pompey.
Eno. Our great navy 's rigg'd.
Eros. For Italy and Caesar. More, Domitius ;
My lord desires you presently : my news
I might have told hereafter.
Eno. 'Twill be naught :
But let it be. Bring me to Antony.
Eros. Come, sir. \Exeunt.
:'( J.-:J
SCENE VI. ROME. A Room in CESAR'S
House.
Enter CESAR, AGRIPPA, and MEC^NAS.
Cces. Contemning Rome, he has done all
this, and more,
In Alexandria : here's the manner oft :
I' the market-place, on a tribunal silver'd,
Cleopatra and himself in chairs of gold
Were publicly enthron'd : at the feet sr,t
Caesarion, whom they call my father's son,
And all the unlawful issue that their lust [her
Since then hath made between them. Unto
He gave the 'stablishment of Egypt ; made her
Of Lower Syria, Cyprus, Lydia,
Absolute queen.
Mec. This in the public eye ?
Cces. V the common show-place, where they
exercise.
His sons he there proclaim'd the kings of kings :
Great Media, Parthia, and Armenia
He gave to Alexander ; to Ptolemy he assign'd
Syria, Cilicia, and Phoenicia : she
In the habiliments of the goddess Isis [ence,
That day appear'd ; and oft before gave audi-
As 'tis reported, so.
Mec. Let Rome be thus
Inform'd.
Agr. Who, queasy with his insolence
Already, will their good thoughts call from him.
Cces. The people know it : and have now
receiv'd
His accusations.
Agr. Who does he accuse ?
Cces. Caesar : and that, having in Sicily
Sextus Pompeius spoil'd, we had not rated him
His part o' the isle : then does he say he lent me
Some shipping, unrestor'd : lastly, he frets
That Lepidus of the triumvirate
Should be depos'd; and, being, that we detain
All his revenue.
Agr. Sir, this should be answer'd.
Cces. 'Tis done already, and the messenger
gone.
I have told him Lepidus was grown too cruel ;
That he his high authority abus'd,
And did deserve his change : for what I have
conquer'd
I grant him part ; but then, in his Armenia
And other of his conquer'd kingdoms, I
Demand the like.
Mec. He '11 never yield to that.
Cces* Nor must not, then, be yielded to in this.
Enter OCTAVIA, with her Train.
Octa. Hail, Caesar, and my lord ! hail, most
dear Caesar !
CCES. That ever I should call thee castaway !
Octa. You have not call'd me so, nor have
you cause. [come not
Cces. Why have you stol'n upon us thus ? You
Like Caesar's sister : the wife of Antony
Should have an army for an usher, and
The neighs of horse to tell of her approach
Long ere she did appear ; the trees by the way
Should have borne men ; and expectation
fainted,
Longing for what it had not ; nay, the dust
Should have ascended to the roof of heaven,
Rais'd by your populous troops : but you are
come
A market-maid to Rome ; and have prevented
The ostentation of our love, which left unshown
Is often left unlov'd : we should have met you
By sea and land ; supplying every stage
With an augmented greeting.
Octa. Good my lord,
To come thus was I not constrained, but did it
On my free-will. My lord, Mark Antony,
Hearing that you prepar'd for war, acquainted
My grieved ear withal : whereon I begg'd
His pardon for return.
Cces. Which soon he granted,
Being an obstruct 'tween his lust and him.
Octa. Do not say so, my lord.
Cces. I have eyes upon him,
And his affairs come to me on the wind.
Where is he now ?
Octa. My lord, in Athens.
Cces. No, my most wronged sister ; Cleo-
patra [empire
Hath nodded him to her. He hath given his
Up to a whore ; who now are levying [bled
The kings o' the earth for war : he hath assem-
Bocchus, the king of Libya ; Archelaus
Of Cappadocia ; Philadelphos, king
SCENE VII.]
ANTONY AND CLEOPATRA.
909
Of Paphlagonia ; the Thracian king, Adallas ;
King Malchus of Arabia ; King of Pont ;
Herod of Jewry ; Mithridates, king
Of Comagene ; Polemon and Amyntas,
The kings of Mede and Lycaonia, with a
More larger list of sceptres.
Octa. Ay me, most wretched,
That have my heart parted betwixt two friends
That do afflict each other !
Cas. Welcome hither :
Your letters did withhold our breaking forth,
Till we perceiv'd both how you were wrong led
And we in negligent danger. Cheer your heart :
Be you not troubled with the time, which drives
O'er your content these strong necessities ;
But let determin'd things to destiny
Hold unbewail'd their way. Welcome to Rome ;
Nothing more dear to me. You are abus'd
Beyond the mark of thought : and the high gods,
To do you justice, make their ministers
Of us and those that love you. Best of comfort ;
And ever welcome to us.
Agr. Welcome, lady.
Mec. Welcome, dear madam.
Each heart in Rome does love and pity you :
Only the adulterous Antony, most large
In his abominations, turns you off ;
And gives his potent regiment to a trull
That noises it against us.
Octa. Is it so, sir ? [you
Cas. Most certain. Sister, welcome : pray
Be ever known to patience : my dear'st sister !
[Exeunt.
f*!- *b 57^o^woH -
SCENE VII. ANTONY'S Camp near the
Promontory of Actium.
Enter CLEOPATRA and ENOBARBUS.
Cleo. I will be even with thee, doubt it not.
Eno. But why, why, why ? [wars,
Cleo. Thou hast forspoke my being in these
And say'st it is not fit.
Eno. Well, is it, is it?
Cleo. If not denounc'd against us, why
should not we
Be there in person ?
Eno. [Aside.] Well, I could reply :
If we should serve with horse and mares to-
gether [bear
The horse were merely lost ; the mares would
A soldier and his horse.
Cleo. What is 't you say?
Eno. Your presence needs must puzzle
Antony ; [time,
Take from his heart, take from his brain, from 's
What should not then be spar'd. He is already
Traduc'd for levity : and 'tis said in Rome
That Photinus an eunuch and your maids
Manage this war.
Cleo. Sink Rome, and their tongues rot
That speak against us I A charge we bear i'
the war,
And, as the president of my kingdom, will
Appear there for a man. Speak not against it ;
I will not stay behind.
Eno. Nay, I have done.
Here comes the emperor.
Enter ANTONY and CANIDIUS.
Ant. Is it not strange, Canidius,
That from Tarentum and Brundusium
He could so quickly cut the Ionian sea,
And take in Toryne? You have heard on't,
sweet ?
Cleo. Celerity is never more admir'd
Than by the negligent.
Ant. A good rebuke,
Which might have well become the best of men
To taunt at slackness. Canidius, we
Will fight with him by sea.
Cleo. By sea! what else?
Can. Why will my lord do so?
Ant. For that he dares us to't.
Eno. So hath my lord dar'd him to single fight.
Can. Ay, and to wage this battle at Pharsalia,
Where Csesar fought with Pompey : but these
offers,
Which serve not for his vantage, he shakes off;
And so should you.
Eno. Your ships are not well mann'd :
Your mariners are muleteers, reapers, people
Ingross'd by swift impress; in Caesar's fleet
Are those that often have 'gainst Pompey
fought :
Their ships are yare ; yours heavy : no disgrace
Shall fall you for refusing him at sea,
Being prepar'd for land.
Ant. By sea, by sea.
Eno. Most worthy sir, you therein throw
away
The absolute soldiership you have by land ;
Distract your army, which doth most consist
Of war-mark'd footmen ; leave unexecuted
Your own renowned knowledge ; quite forego
The way which promises assurance ; and
Give up yourself merely to chance and hazard
From firm security.
Ant. I '11 fight at sea.
Cleo. I have sixty sails, Csesar none better.
Ant. Our overplus of shipping will we burn ;
And, with the rest full-mann'd, from the head
of Actium
Beat the approaching Csesar. But if we fail
We then can do 't at land.
g 10
ANTONY AND CLEOPATRA.
[ACT in.
Enter a Messenger.
Thy business?
Mess. The news is true, my lord; he is
descried ;
Caesar has taken Toryne. [possible j
Ant. Can he be there in person? 'tis im-
Strange that his power should be. Canidius,
Our nineteen legions thou shalt hold by land,
And our twelve thousand horse. We '11 to our
ship:
Away, my Thetis !
Enter a Soldier.
How now, worthy soldier?
Sold. O noble emperor, do not fight by sea ;
Trust not to rotten planks : do you misdoubt
This sword and these my wounds? Let the
Egyptians
And the Phoenicians go a-ducking : we
Have used to conquer standing on the earth
And fighting foot to foot.
Ant. Well, well: away.
[Exeunt ANT., CLEO., arc^ENO.
Sold. By Hercules, I think I am i' the right.
Can. Soldier, thou art : but his whole action
grows
Not in the power on 't : so our leader 's led,
And we are women's men.
Sold. You keep by land
The legions and the horse whole, do you not?
Can. Marcus Octavius, Marcius Justeius,
Publicola, and Caelius are for sea :
But we keep whole by land. This speed of
Caesar's
Carries beyond belief.
Sold. While he was yet in Rome
His power went out in such distractions as
Beguil'd all spies.
Can. Who 's his lieutenant, hear you?
Sold. They say one Taurus.
Can. Well I know the man.
Enter a Messenger.
Mess. The emperor calls Canidius.
Can. With news the time 's with labour : and
throes forth
Each minute some. [Exeunt.
SCENE VIII. A Plain near Actiutn.
Enter C^SAR, TAURUS, Officers, and others.
Cats. Taurus,
Taw\ My lord?
Czs. Strike not by land ; keep whole ; pro-
voke not battle
Till we have done at sea. Do not exceed
The prescript of this scroll : our fortune lies
Upon this jump. [Exeunt.
SCENE IX. Another part of the Plain.
Enter ANTONY and ENOBARBUS.
Ant. Set we our squadrons on yon side o'
the hill,
In eye of Caesar's battle ; from which place
We may the number of the ships behold,
And so proceed accordingly. [Exeunt.
SCENE X. Another part of the Plain.
Enter CANIDIUS, marching -with his land
Army oneway; and TAURUS, the Lieutenant
of C^SAR, with his Army, the other way.
After their going zn, is heard the noise of a
sea-fight.
Alarum. Enter ENOBARBUS.
Eno. Naught, naught, all naught ! I can be-
hold no longer :
The Antoniad, the Egyptian admiral,
With all their sixty, fly and turn the rudder :
To see 't mine eyes are blasted.
Enter SCARUS.
Scar. Gods and goddesses.
All the whole synod of them !
Eno. What's thy passion?
Scar. The greater cantle of the world is lost
With very ignorance ; we have kiss'd away
Kingdoms and provinces.
Eno. How appears the fight?
Scar. On our side like the token'd pestilence,
Where death is sure. Yon ribaudred nag of
Egypt, [fight,
Whom leprosy o'ertake! i' the midst o' the
When vantage like a pair of twins appear'd,
Both as the same, or rather ours the elder,
The breese upon her, like a cow in June,
Hoists sails and flies.
Eno. That I beheld : [not
Mine eyes did sicken at the sight, and could
Endure a further view.
Scar. She once being loof'd
The noble ruin of her magic, Antony,
Claps on hissea-wing, and, like a doting mallard,
Leaving the fight in height, flies after her :
I never saw an action of such shame ;
Experience, manhood, honour, ne'er before
Did violate so itself.
Eno. Alack, alack !
Enter CANIDIUS.
Can. Our fortune on the sea is out of breath,
And sinks most lamentably. Had our general
SCENE XI.]
ANTONY AND CLEOPATRA.
Been what he knew himself, it had gone well :
O, he has given example for our flight
Most grossly by his own !
Eno. Ay, are you thereabouts?
Why, then, good-night indeed.
Can. Towards Peloponnesus are they fled.
Scar. 'Tis easy to 't ; and there I will attend
What further comes.
Can. To Caesar will I render
My legions and my horse ; six kings already
Show me the way of yielding.
Eno. I '11 yet follow
The wounded chance of Antony, though my
reason
Sits in the wind against me. \Exeunt.
SCENE XI. ALEXANDRIA. A Room in the
Palace.
Enter ANTONY and Attendants.
Ant. Hark ! the land bids me tread no more
upon't, [hither:
It is asham'd to bear me ! Friends, come
I am so lated in the world that I
Have lost my way for ever : I have a ship
Laden with gold, take that, divide it ; fly,
And make your peace with Caesar.
All. Fly ! not we.
Ant. I have fled myself, and have instructed
cowards [gone ;
To run and show their shoulders. Friends, be
I have myself resolv'd upon a course
Which has no need of you ; begone :
My treasure's in the harbour, take it. O,
I followed that I blush to look upon;
My very hairs do mutiny ; for the white
Reprove the brown for rashness, and they them
For fear and doting. Friends, be gone: you
shall
Have letters from me to some friends that will
Sweep your way for you. Pray you, look not
sad,
Nor make replies of loathness : take the hint
Which my despair proclaims ; let that be left
Which leaves itself : to the sea-side straightway :
I will possess you of that ship and treasure.
Leave me, I pray, a little : pray you now :
Nay, do so ; for, indeed, I have lost command,
Therefore I pray you : I '11 see you by and by.
\Sits down.
Enter CLEOPATRA, led by CHARMIAN and
IRAS, EROS following.
Eros. Nay, gentle madam, to him, com-
fort him.
Iras. Do, most dear queen.
Char. Do! why, what else?
Cleo. Let me sit down. O Juno !
Ant. No, no, no, no, no.
Eros. See you here, sir?
Ant. O fie, fie, fie !
Char. Madam,
Iras. Madam, O good empress,
Eros. Sir, sir,
Ant. Yes, my lord, yes; he at Philippi
kept
His sword e'en like a dancer ; while I struck
The lean and wrinkled Cassius ; and 'twas I
That the mad Brutus ended ; he alone
Dealt on lieutenantry, and no practice had
In the brave squares of war: yet now no
matter.
Cleo. Ah, stand by.
Eros. The queen, my lord, the queen.
Iras. Go to him, madam, speak to him:
He is unqualitied with very shame.
Cleo. Well then, sustain me : O !
Eros. Most noble sir, arise ; the queen ap-
proaches :
Her head 3 s declin'd, and death will seize her,
but
Your comfort make the rescue.
Ant. I have offended reputation,
A most unnoble swerving.
Eros. Sir, the queen. [See
Ant. O, whither hast thou led me, Egypt?
How I convey my shame out of thine eyes
B/ looking back, what I have left behind
'StroyM in dishonour.
Cleo. O my lord, my lord,
Forgive my fearful sails ! I little thought
You would have followed.
Ant. Egypt, thou kn^w'st too well
My heart was to thy rudder tied by the strings,
And thou shouldst tow me after : o'er my spirit
Thy full supremacy thou knew'st, and that
Thy beck might from the bidding ot the gods
Command me.
Cleo. O, my pardon !
Ant. Now I must
To the young man send humble treaties, dodge
And palter in the shifts of lowness ; who
With half the bulk o' the world play'd as 1
pleas'd,
Making and marring fortunes You did know
How much you were my conqueror ; and that
My sword, made weak by my affection, would
Obey it on all cause.
Cleo. Pardon, pardon!
Ant. Fall not a tear, I say ; one of them rates
All that is won and lost . give me a kiss ;
Even this repays me. We sent our school-
master ;
Is he come back? Love, I am full ol lead.
912
ANTONY AND CLEOPATRA.
[ACT III.
Some wine, within there, and our viands!
Fortune knows
We scorn her most when most she offers blows.
[Exeunt.
SCENE XII. CESAR'S Camp in Egypt.
Enter C^SAR, DOLABELLA, THYREUS,
and others.
Cas. Let him appear that 's come from An-
tony.
Know you him ?
Dot. Caesar, 'tis his schoolmaster :
An argument that he is pluck'd, when hither
He sends so poor a pinion of his wing,
Which had superfluous kings for messengers
Not many moons gone by.
Enter EUPHRONIUS.
Cas. Approach, and speak.
Eup. Such as I am, I come from Antony :
I was of late as petty to his ends
As is the morn-dew on the myrtle leaf
To his grand sea.
Cas. Be 't so : declare thine office.
Eup. Lord of his fortunes he salutes thee, and
Requires to live in Egypt : which not granted,
He lessens his requests ; and to thee sues
To let him breathe between the heavens and
earth,
A private man in Athens : this for him.
Next, ^ Cleopatra does confess thy greatness;
Submits her to thy might ; and of thee craves
The circle of the Ptolemies for her heirs,
Now hazarded to thy grace.
Cas. For Antony,
I have no ears to his request. The queen
Of audience nor desire shall fail ; so she
From Egypt drive her all-disgraced friend,
Or take his life there : this if she perform
She shall not sue unheard. So to them both.
Eup. Fortune pursue thee !
Cas. Bring him through the bands.
[Exit EUPHRONIUS.
T> try thy eloquence, now 'tis time : despatch ;
From Antony win Cleopatra: promise,
[To THYR.
And in our name, what she requires ; add more,
From thine invention, offers : women are not
In their best fortunes strong; but want will
perjure
The ne'er-touch' d vestal : try thy cunning,
Thyreus ;
Make thine own edict for thy pains, which we
Will answer as a law.
Thyr. Caesar, I go.
Cas. Observe how Antony becomes his flaw,
And what thou think'st his very action speaks
In every power that moves.
Thyr. Caesar, I shall. [Exeunt.
SCENE XIII. ALEXANDRIA. A Room in
the Palace.
Enter CLEOPATRA, ENOBARBUS, CHARMIAN,
and IRAS.
Cleo. What shall we do, Enobarbus?
Eno. Think, and die.
Cleo. Is Antony or we in fault for this ?
Eno. Antony only, that would make his will
Lord of his reason. What though you fled
From that great face of war, whose several ranges
Frighted each other ? why should he follow ?
The itch of his affection should not then
Have nick'd his captainship ; at such a point,
When half to half the world oppos'd, he being
The mered question : 'twas a shame no less
Than was his loss to course your flying flags
And leave his navy gazing.
Cleo. Pr'ythee, peace.
Enter ANTONY, with EUPHRONIUS.
Ant. Is that his answer ?
Eup. Ay, my lord.
Ant. The queen shall then have courtesy, so
she
Will yield us up,
Eup. He says so.
Ant. Let her know 't.
To the boy Caesar send this grizzled head.
And he will fill thy wishes to the brim
With principalities.
Cleo. That head, my lord ?
Ant. To him again : tell him he wears the rose
Of youth upon him ; from which the world
should note
Something particular : his coins, ships, legions,
May be a coward's ; whose ministers would
prevail
Under the service of a child as soon [fore
As i' the command of Caesar : I dare him there-
To lay his gay comparisons apart,
And answer me declin'd, sword against sword,
Ourselves alone. I '11 write it : follow me.
[Exeunt ANTONY and EUPHRONIUS.
Eno. Yes, like enough, high-battled Caesar
will
Unstate his happiness, and be stag'd to the
show
Against a sworder. I see men's judgments are
A parcel of their fortunes ; and things outward
Do draw the inward quality after them,
To suffer all alike. That he should dream,
Knowing all measures, the full Caesar will
SCENE XIII.]
ANTONY AND CLEOPATRA.
913
Answer his emptiness ! Caesar, thou hast sub-
du'd
His judgment too.
Enter an Attendant.
Att. A messenger from G
Cleo. What, no more ceremony? See, my
women ! [nose
Against the blown rose may they stop their
That kneel'd unto the buds. Admit him, sir.
[Exit Attendant.
Eno. [Aside.] Mine honesty and I begin to
square.
The loyalty well held to fools does make
Our faith mere folly : yet he that can endure
To follow with allegiance a fallen lord
Does conquer him that did his master conquer,
And earn a place i' the story.
Enter THYREUS.
Cleo. Caesar's will ?
Thyr. Hear it apart.
Cleo. None but friends : say boldly.
Thyr. So, haply, are they friends to Antony.
Eno. He needs as many, sir, as Caesar has ;
Or needs not us. If Caesar please, our master
Will leap to be his friend : for us, you know
Whose he is we are, and that is Csesar's.
Thyr. So.
Thus then, thou most renown'd : Caesar entreats
Not to consider in what case thou stand'st,
Further than he is Csesar.
Cleo. Go on : right royal.
Thyr. He knows that you embrace not Antony
As you did love, but as you fear'd him.
Cleo. O! [he
Thyr. The scars upon your honour, therefore,
Does pity, as constrained blemishes,
Not as deserv'd.
Cleo. He is a god, and knows
What is most right : mine honour was not yielded,
But conquer'd merely.
Eno. [Aside.} To be sure of that,
I will ask Antony. Sir, sir, thou art so leaky
That we must leave thee to thy sinking, for
Thy dearest quit thee. [Exit.
Thyr. Shall I say to Caesar
What you require of him ? for he partly begs
To be desir'd to give. It much would please him
That of his fortunes you should make a staff
To lean upon : but it would warm his spirits
To hear from me you had left Antony,
And put yourself under his shroud, who is
The universal landlord.
Cleo. What 's your name ?
Thyr. My name is Thyreus.
Cleo. Most kind messenger,
Say to great Caesar this : in deputation
I kiss his conquering hand : tell him lam prompt
To lay my crown at's feet, and there to kneel:
Tell him, from his all-obeying breath I hear
The doom of Egypt.
Thyr. } Tis your noblest course.
Wisdom and fortune combating together,
If that the former dare but what it can,
No chance may shake it. Give me grace to lay
My duty on your hand.
Cleo. Your Csesar's father
Oft, when he hath mus'd of taking kingdoms
in,
Bestow'd his lips on that unworthy place,
As it rain'd kisses.
Re-enter ANTONY and ENOBARBUS.
Ant. Favours, by Jove that thunders !
What art thou, fellow?
Thyr. One that but performs
The bidding of the fullest man, and worthiest
To have command obey'd.
Eno. [Aside.] You will be whipp'd.
Ant. Approach there ! Ay, you kite ! Now,
gods and devils 1 [Ho I
Authority melts from me : of late, when I cried,
Like boys unto a muss, kings would start forth
And cry, Your will? Have you no ears? I am
Antony yet.
Enter Attendants.
Take hence this Jack and whip him.
Eno. 'Tis better playing with a lion's whelp
Than with an old one dying.
Ant. Moon and stars !
Whip him. Were't twenty of the greatest tri-
butaries
That do acknowledge Caesar, should I find them
So saucy with the hand of she here, what 's
her name
Since she was Cleopatra ? Whip him, fellows,
Till, like a boy, you see him cringe his face,
And whine aloud for mercy : take him hence.
Thyr. Mark Antony,-
Ant. Tug him away : being whipp'd,
Bring him again. This Jack of Caesar's shall
Bear us an errand to him.
[Exeunt Attend, -with THYR.
You were half blasted ere I knew you. Ha !
Have I my pillow let unpress'd in Rome,
Forborne the getting of a lawful race,
And by a gem of women, to be abus'd
By one that looks on feeders ?
Cleo. Good my lord,
Ant. You have been a boggier ever :
But when we in our viciousness grow hard,
O misery on 't ! the wise gods seal our eyes ;
914
ANTONY AND CLEOPATRA.
In our own filth drop our clear judgments ;
make us
Adore our errors ; laugh at 's, while we strut
To our confusion.
Cleo. O, is 't come to this ?
Ant. I found you as a morsel cold upon
Dead Caesar's trencher ; nay, you were a frag-
ment
Of Cneius Pompey's; besides what hotter hours,
Unregister'd in vulgar fame, you have
Luxuriously pick'd out : for I am sure, [be,
Though you can guess what temperance should
You know not what it is.
Cleo. . Wherefore is this ?
Ant. To let a fellow that will take rewards,
And say, God quit you! be familiar with
My playfellow, your hand ; this kingly seal
And plighter of high hearts ! O that I were
Upon the hill of Basan, to outroar
The horned herd ! for I have savage cause ;
And to proclaim it civilly were like
A halter'd neck which does the hangman thank
For being yare about him.
Re-enter Attendants with THYREUS.
Is he whipp'd ?
I Att. Soundly, my lord.
Ant. Cried he ? and begg'd he pardon ?
I Att. He did ask favour.
Ant. If that thy father live, let him repent
Thou wast not made his daughter; and be thou
sorry
To follow Caesar in his triumph, since
Thou hast been whipp'd for following him :
henceforth
The white hand of a lady fever thee,
Shake thou to look on't. Get thee back to
Caesar,
Tell him thy entertainment : look thou say
He makes me angry with him ; for he seems
Proud and disdainful, harping on what I am,
Not what he knew I was : he makes me angry ;
And at this time most easy 'tis to do 3 t,
When my good stars, that were my former guides,
Have empty left their orbs, and shot their fires
Into the abysm of hell. If he mislike
My speech and what is done, tell him he has
Hipparchus, my enfranchis'd bondman, whom
He may at pleasure whip, or hang, or torture,
As he shall like, to quit me : urge it thou :
Hence with thy stripes, be gone.
[Exit THYREUS.
Cleo. Have you done yet ?
Ant. Alack, our terrene moon
Is now eclips'd ; and it portends alone
The fall of Antony !
Cleo. I must stay his time.
Ant. To flatter Caesar, would you mingle eyes
With one that ties his points ?
Cleo. Not know me yet ?
Ant. Cold-hearted toward me ?
Cleo. Ah, dear, if I be so,
From my cold heart let heaven engender hail,
And poison it in the source ; and the first stone
Drop in my neck : as it determines, so
Dissolve my life ! The next Caesarion smite !
Till, by degrees, the memory of my womb,
Together with my brave Egyptians all,
By the discandying of this pelleted storm,
Lie graveless, till the flies and gnats of Nile
Have buried them for prey !
Ant. I am satisfied.
Caesar sits down in Alexandria ; where
I will oppose his fate. Our force by land
Hath nobly held : our sever'd navy too
Have knit again, and fleet, threat'ning most
sea-like. [hear, lady?
Where hast thou been, my heart ? Dost thou
If from the field I shall return once more
To kiss these lips, I will appear in blood :
I and my sword will earn our chronicle :
There 's hope in 't yet
Cleo. That 's my brave lord !
Ant. I will be treble-sinew'd, hearted,
breath'd,
And fight maliciously : for when mine hours
Were nice and lucky, men did ransom lives
Of me for jests ; but now I '11 set my teeth,
And send to dark ness all that stop me. Come,
Let 's have one other gaudy night : call to me
All my sad captains, fill our bowls ; once more
Let's mock the midnight bell.
Cleo. It is my birthday.
I had thought tc have held it poor ; but since
my lord
Is Antony again I will be Cleopatra.
Ant. We will yet do well.
Cleo. Call all his noble captains to my lord.
Ant. Do so ; we Ml speak to them : and to-
night I '11 force
The wine peep through their scars. Come on,
my queen ;
There 's sap in 't yet. The next time I do fight
I '11 make death love me ; for I will contend
Even with his pestilent scythe.
[Exeunt all but ENO.
Eno. Now he '11 outstare the lightning. To
be furious
Is to be frighted out of fear ; and in that mood
The dove will peck the estridge ; and I see still
A diminution in our captain's brain
Restores his heart : when valour preys on reason
It eats the sword it fights with. I will seek
Some way to leave him. [Exit.
SCENE I.]
ANTONY AND CLEOPATRA.
915
-'
ACT IV.
SCENE I. CESAR'S Camp at Alexandria.
Enter CESAR reading a Utter ; AGRIPPA,
MEC^NAS, and others.
Cas. He calls me boy; and chides as he had
power
To beat rae out of Egypt ; my messenger
He hath whipp'd with rods ; dares me to per-
sonal combat,
Caesar to Antony : let the old ruffian know
I have many other ways to die ; meantime
Laugh at his challenge.
Mec. Caesar must think,
When one so great begins to rage, he 's hunted
Even to falling. Give him no breath, but now
Make boot of his distraction : never anger
Made good guard for itself.
Cces. Let our best heads
Know that to-morrow the last of many battles
We mean to fight. Within our files there are,
Of those that serv'd Mark Antony but late,
Enough to fetch him in. See it done :
And feast the army ; we have store to do 't,
And they have earn'd the waste. Poor Antony !
[Exeunt.
SCENE II. ALEXANDRIA. A Room in the
Palace.
Enter ANTONY, CLEOPATRA, ENOBARBUS,
CHARMIAN, IRAS, ALEXAS, and others.
Ant. He will not fight with me, Domitius.
Eno. No.
Ant. Why should he not ? [fortune,
Eno. He thinks, being twenty tiirr.s of better
He is twenty men to one.
Ant. To-morrow, soldier,
By sea arid land I '11 fight : or I will live,
Or bathe my dying honour in the blood
Shall make it live again. Woo 't thou fight well?
Eno. I '11 strike, and cry, Take all.
Ant. Well said ; come on.
Call forth my household servants : let 's to-night
Be bounteous at our meal.
Enter Servants.
Give me thy hand,
Thou hast been rightly honest ; so hast thou ;
Thou, and thou, and thou ;- -you have serv'd
me well,
And kings have been your fellows.
Cleo. \_Aside to ENO.] What means this?
Eno. [Aside to CLEO.] 'Tis one of those odd
tricks which sorrow shoots
Out of the mind.
Ant. And thou art honest too.
I wish I could be made so many men,
And all of you clapp'd up together in
An Antony, that I might do you service
So good as you have done.
Serv. The gods forbid t
Ant. Well, my good fellows, wait on me to-
night :
Scant not my cups ; and make as much of me
As when mine empire was your fellow too,
And suffer'd my command.
Cleo. [Aside to ENO.] What does he mean?
Eno. [Aside to CLEO.] To make his followers
weep.
Ant. Tend me to-night ;
May be it is the period of your auty :
Haply you shall not see me more ; or if,
A mangled shadow : perchance to-morrow
You 'li serve another master. I look on you
As one that takes his leave. Mine honest
friends,
I turn you not away ; but, like a master
Married to your good service, stay till death :
Tend me to-night two hours, I ask no more,
And the gods yield you for 't !
Eno. What mean you, sir,
To give them this discomfort ? Look, they weep;
And I, an ass, am onion-ey'd : for shame,
Transform us not to women.
Ant. Ho, ho, ho !
Now the witch take me, if I meant it thus !
Grace grow where those drops fall ! My
hearty friends,
You take me in too dolorous a sense ; [you
For I spake to you for your comfort, did desire
To burn this night with torches : know, my
hearts,
I hope well of to-morrow ; and will lead you
Where rather I '11 expect victorious life
Than death and honour. Let 's to supper ;
come,
And drown consideration. [Exeunt.
SCENE III. ALEXANDRIA. Before the Palace.
Enter two Soldiers to their guard.
1 Sold. Brother, good-night : to-morrow is
the day. [well.
2 Sold. It will determine one way : fare you
Heard you of nothing strange about the streets?
1 Sold. Nothing. What news ? [to you.
2 Sold. Belike 'tis but a rumour. Good-night
1 Sold. Well, sir, good-night.
Enter two other Soldiers.
2 Sold. Soldiers, have careful watch.
3 Sold. And you. Good -night, good-night.
[The first two place themselves at their posts.
9i6
ANTONY AND CLEOPATRA.
[ACT iv.
4 Sold. Here we : [ The third and fourth
take their posts.} and if to-morrow
Our navy thrive, I have an absolute hope
Our landmen will stand up.
3 Sold. 'Tis a brave arm)',
And full of purpose.
[Music as of hautboys under the stage.
4 Sold. Peace, what noise ?
1 Sold. List, list !
2 Sold. Hark!
I Sold. Music i' the air.
3 Sold. Under the earth.
4 Sold. It signs well, does it not ?
3 Sold. No.
i Sold. Peace, I say !
What should this mean ? [lov'd,
2 Sold. 'Tis the god Hercules, whom Antony
Now leaves him.
1 Sold. Walk ; let 's see if other watchmen
Do hear what we do.
[They advance to another post.
2 Sold. How now, masters !
Soldiers. [Speaking together. ] How now !
How now ! do you heai this ?
I Sold. Ay ; is 't not strange ?
3 Sold. Do you hear, masters? do you hear?
i Sold. Follow the noise so far as we have
quarter ;
Let 's see how 't will give off.
Soldiers. [Speaking together.} Content. 'Tis
strange. [Exeunt.
SCENE IV. ALEXANDRIA. A Room in the
Palace.
Enter ANTONY and CLEOPATRA ; CHARMIAN,
IRAS, and others attending.
Ant. Eros 1 mine armour, Eros !
Cleo. Sleep a little.
Anit. No, my chuck. Eros, come; mine
armour, Eros !
Enter EROS with armour.
Come, good fellow, put mine iron on.
If fortune be not ours to-day, it is
Because we brave her. Come.
Cleo. Nay, I '11 help too.
What's this for?
Ant. Ah, let be, let be ! thou art
The armourer of my heart. False, false; this,
this.
Cleo. Sooth, la, I '11 help : thus it must be.
Ant. Well, well ;
We shall thrive now. Seest thou, my good
fellow?
(Io put on thy defences.
Eros. Briefly, sir.
Cleo. Is not this buckled well ?
Ant. Rarely, rarely:
He that unbuckles this, till we do please
To doff 't for our repose, shall hear a storm.
Thou fumblest, Eros ; and my queen 's a squire
More tight at this than thou: despatch. O
love, [knew'st
That thou couldst see my wars to-day, and
The royal occupation ! thou shouldst see
A workman in't.
Enter an Officer, armed.
Good-morrow to thee ; welcome :
Thou look'st like him that knows a warlike
charge :
To business that we love we rise betime,
And go to 't with delight.
Off. A thousand, sir,
Early though it be, have on their riveted trim,
And at the port expect you.
[Shout. Flourish of Trumpets within.
Enter other Officers and Soldiers.
2 Off. The morn is fair. Good-morrow,
general.
All. Good-morrow, general.
Ant. 'Tis well blown, lads :
This morning, like the spirit of a youth
That means to be of note, begins betimes.
So, so ; come, give me that : this way ; well
said.
Fare thee well, dame, whate'er becomes of me :
This is a soldier's kiss : rebukable, [Kisses her.
And worthy shameful check it were, to stand
On more mechanic compliment ; I '11 leave thee
Now, like a man of steel. You that will fight,
Follow me close ; I '11 bring you to't. Adieu.
[Exeunt ANT. , EROS, Officers, and Soldiers.
Char. Please you, retire to your chamber.
Cleo. Lead me.
He goes forth gallantly. That he and Caesar
might
Determine this great war in single fight !
Then, Antony, but now Well, on.
[Exeunt.
&& - r refa-.Us
SCENE V. ANTONY'S Camp near Alexandria.
Trumpets sound within. Enter ANTONY and
EROS ; a Soldier meeting them.
Sold. The gods make this a happy day tc
Antony !
Ant. Would thou and those thy scars had once
prevail'd
To make me fight at land !
Sold. Hadst thou done so,
The kings that have revolted, and the soldier
SCENE VI. J
ANTONY AND CLEOPATRA.
917
That has this morning left thee, would have still
Follow'd thy heels.
Ant. Who 's gone this morning ?
Sold. Who.
One ever near thee : call for Enobarbus,
He shall not hear thee ; or from Caesar's camp
Say, I am none of thine.
Ant. What say'st thou ?
Sold. Sir,
He is with Caesar.
Eros. Sir, his chests and treasure
He has not with him.
Ant. Is he gone ?
Sold. Most certain.
Ant. Go, Eros, send his treasure after; do
it;
Detain no jot, I charge thee ; write to him,
I will subscribe, gentle adieus and greetings ;
Say that I wish he never find more cause
To change a master. O, my fortunes have
Corrupted honest men! Eros, despatch.
[Exeunt.
SCENE VI. C/ESAR'S Camp before Alexandria.
Flourish. Enter CAESAR, with AGRIPPA,
ENOBARBUS, and others.
Czs. Go forth, Agrippa, and begin the fight :
Our will is Antony be took alive ;
Make it so known.
Agr. Caesar, I shall. [Exit.
Cas. The time of universal peace is near :
Prove this a prosperous day, the three-nook'd
world
Shall bear the olive freely.
Enter a Messenger.
Mess. Antony
Is come into the field.
Cas. Go charge Agrippa
Plant those that have revolted in the van,
That Antony may seem to spend his fury
Upon himself. [Exeunt CAESAR and his Train.
Eno. Alexas did revolt ; and went to Jewry
On affairs of Antony ; there did persuade
Great Herod to incline himself to Caesar,
And leave his master Antony : for this pains
Caesar hath hang'd him. Canidius, and the rest
That fell away, have entertainment, but
No honourable trust. I have done ill;
Of which I do accuse myself so sorely
That I will joy no more.
Enter a Soldier of CESAR'S.
Sold. Enobarbus, Antony
Hath after thee sent all thy treasure, with
His bounty overplus: the messenger
Came on my guard, and at thy tent is now
Unloading of his mules.
Eno. I give it you.
Sold. Mock not, Enobarbus.
I tell you true : best you saf d the bringer
Out of the host ; I must attend mine office,
Or would have done 't myself. Your emperor
Continues still a Jove. [Exit.
Eno. I am alone the villain of the earth,
And feel I am so most. O Antony, [paid
Thou mine of bounty, how wouldst thou have
My better service, when my turpitude
Thou dost so crown with gold ! This blows my
heart :
If swift thought break it not, a swifter mean
Shall outstrike thought : but thought will do 't,
I feel.
I fight against thee ! No : I will go seek
Some ditch wherein to die ; the foul'st best fits
My latter part of life. [Exit.
SCENE VII. Field of Battle between the
Camps.
Alarum. Drums and trumpets. Enter
AGRIPPA and others.
Agr. Retire, we have engag'd ourselves too
far:
Caesar himself has work, and our oppression
Exceeds what we expected. [Exeunt.
Alarum. Enter ANTONY, and SCARUS
wounded.
Scar. O my brave emperor, this is fought
indeed !
Had we done so at first, we had driven them
home
With clouts about their heads.
Ant. Thou bleed'st apace.
Scar. I had a wound here that was like a T,
But now 'tis made an H.
Ant. They do retire.
Scar. We '11 beat 'em into bench-holes : I have
yet
Room for six scotches more.
Enter EROS.
Eros. They are beaten, sir; and our advan-
tage serves
For a fair victory.
Scar. Let us score their backs,
And snatch 'em up, as we take hares, behind :
'Tis sport to maul a runner.
Ant. I will reward thee
Once for thy spritely comfort, and tenfold
For thy good valour. Come thee on.
Scar. I '11 halt after. [Exeunt.
ANTONY AND CLEOPATRA.
[ACT iv.
SCENE VIII. Under the Walls of Alexandria.
Alarum. Enter ANTONY marching; SCARUS
and Forces.
Ant. We have beat him to his camp. Run
one before, [morrow,
And let the queen know of our gests. To-
Before the sun shall see us, we '11 spill the blood
That has to-day escap'd. I thank you all ;
For doughty-handed are you, and have fought
Not as you serv'd the cause, but as 't had been
Each man's like mine; you have shown all
Hectors.
Enter the city, clip your wives, your friends,
Tell them your feats; whilst they with joyful
tears [kiss
Wash the congealment from your wounds, and
The honour'd gashes whole. Give me thy hand ;
[To SCARUS.
Enter CLEOPATRA, attended.
To this great fairy I '11 commend thy acts,
Make her thanks bless thee. O thou day o'
the world, [all,
Chain mine arm'd neck ; leap thou, attire and
Through proof of harness to my heart, and there
Ride on the pants triumphing.
Cleo.^ Lord of lords!
O infinite virtue, com'st thou smiling from
The world's great snare uncaught?
Ant. My nightingale,
We have beat them to their beds. What, girl !
though grey [yet ha' we
Do something mingle with our younger brown ;
A brain that nourishes our nerves, and can
Get goal for goal of youth. Behold this man ;
Commend unto his lips thy favouring hand ;
Kiss it, my warrior : he hath fought to-day
As if a god, in hate of mankind, had
Destroy'd in such a shape.
Cleo. I '11 give thee, friend,
An armour all of gold ; it was a king's.
Ant. He has deserv'd it, were it carbuncled
Like holy Phoebus' car. Give me thy hand :
Through Alexandria make a jolly march ;
Bear our hack'd targets like the men that owe
them:
Had our great palace the capacity
To camp this host, we all would sup together,
And drink carouses to the next day's fate,
Which promises royal peril. Trumpeters,
With brazen din blast you the city's ear ;
Make mingle with our rattling tabourines j
That heaven and earth may strike their sounds
together,
Applauding our approach. {.Exeunt.
SCENE IX. CAESAR'S Camp.
Sentinels at their Post.
1 Sold. If we be not reliev'd within this hour,
We must return to the court of guard: the
night
Is shiny ; and they say we shall embattle
By the second hour i' the morn.
2 Sold. This last day was
A shrewd one to 's.
Enter ENOBARBUS.
Eno. O, bear me witness, night.
3 Sold. What man is this?
2 Sold. Stand close and list to him.
Eno. Be witness to me, O thou blessed moon,
When men revolted shall upon record
Bear hateful memory, poor Enobarbus did
Before chy face repent !
1 Sold. Enobarbus !
3 Sold. Peace !
Hark further.
Eno. O sovereign mistress of true melancholy,
The poisonous damp of night disponge upon
me,
That life, a very rebel to my will,
May^ hang no longer on me : throw my heart
Against the flint and hardness of my fault ;
Which, being dried with grief, will break to
powder,
And finish all foul thoughts. O Antony,
Nobler than my revolt is infamous,
Forgive me in thine own particular;
But let the world rank me in register
A master-leaver and a fugitive :
O Antony ! O Antony ! [Dies.
2 Sold. Let 's speak
To him.
i Sold. Let 's hear him, for the things he
speaks
May concern Caesar.
3 Sold. Let 's do so. But he sleeps.
1 Sold. Swoons rather ; for so bad a prayer
as his
Was never yet fore sleep.
2 Sold. Go we to him.
3 Sold. Awake, sir, awake ; speak to us.
2 Sold. Hear you, sir?
I Sold. The hand of death hath raught him.
[Drums afar off.'} Hark ! the drums
Do merrily wake the sleepers. Let us bear
him
To the court of guard ; he is of note : our hour
Is fully out.
3 Sold. Come on, then ;
He may recover yet. [Exeunt with the body.
SCENE X.]
ANTONY AND CLEOPATRA.
919
SCENE X. Ground between the two Camps.
Enter ANTONY and SCARUS, with Forces,
marching.
Ant. Their preparation is to-day by sea ;
We please them not by land.
Scar. For both, my lord.
Ant. I would they 'd fight i' the fire or i 5 the
air;
We 'd fight there too. But this it is ; our foot
Upon the hills adjoining to the city
Shall stay with us : order for sea is given ;
They have put forth the haven : forward now,
Where their appointment we may best discover,
And look on their endeavour. [Exeunt.
SCENE XL Another part of the Ground.
Enter C.ESAR, with his Forces, marching.
Cas. But being charg'd, we will be still by
land,
Which, as I trtke't, we shall ; for his best force
Is forth to man his galleys. To the vales,
And hold our best advantage. [Exeunt.
SCENE XII. Another part of the Ground.
Enter ANTONY and SCARUS.
Ant. Yet they're not join'd : where yond
pine does stand
I shall discover all : I '11 bring thee word
Straight how 'tis like to go. [Exeunt.
Scar. Swallows have built
In Cleopatra's sails their nests : the augurers
Say they know not, they cannot tell; look
grimly,
And dare not speak their knowledge. Antony
Is valiant and dejected; and, by starts,
His fretted fortunes give him hope and fear
Of what he has and has not.
[Alarum afar off y as at a sea-fight.
Re-enter ANTONY.
Ant. All is lost ;
This foul Egyptian hath betrayed me :
My fleet hath yielded to the foe ; and yonder
They cast their caps up, and carouse together
Like friends long lost. Triple-turn'd whore !
'tis thou
Hast sold me to this novice ; and my heart
Makes only wars on thee. Bid them all fly;
For when I am reveng'd upon my charm,
I have done all. Bid them all fly; begone.
[Exit SCARUS.
sun, thy uprise shall I see no more :
Fortune and Antony part here: even here
Do we shake hands.-^All come to this ! The
hearts
That spaniel'd me at heels, to whom I gave
Their wishes, do discandy, melt their sweets
On blossoming Caesar ; and this pine is bark'3
That overtopp'd them all. Betray'd I am :
O this false soul of Egypt ! this grave charm,
Whose eye beck'd forth my wars and call'd them
home;
Whose bosom was my crownet, my chief end,
Like a right gipsy, hath, at fast and loose,
Beguil'd me to the very heart of loss.
What, Eros, Eros !
Enter CLEOPATRA.
7T\i-
Ah, thou spell ! Avaunt !
Cleo. Why is my lord enrag'd against his love ?
Ant. Vanish; or I shall give thee thy de-
serving, [thee,
And blemish Caesar's triumph. Let him take
And hoist thee up to the shouting plebeians:
Follow his chariot, like the greatest spot
Of all thy sex ; most monster-like, be shown
For poor'st diminutives, for doits ; and let
Patient Octavia plough thy visage up
With her prepared nails. [Exit CLEO.] 'Tis
well thou 'rt gone,
If it be well to live ; but better 'twere
Thou fell'st into my fury, for one death
Might have prevented many. Eros, ho !
The shirt of Nessus is upon me: teach me,
Alcides, thou mine ancestor, thy rage :
Let me lodge Lichas on the horns o' the moon;
And with those hands, that grasp'd the heaviest
club, [die:
Subdue my worthiest self. The witch shall
To the young Roman boy she hath sold me,
and I fall
Under this plot: she dies for 't. Eros, ho !
[Exit.
SCENE XIII. ALEXANDRIA. A Room in
the Palace.
Enter CLEOPATRA, CHARMIAN, IRAS, and
MARDIAN.
Cleo. Help me, my women ! O, he is more
mad [saly
Than Telamon for his shield ; the boar of Thes-
Was never so emboss'd.
Char. To the monument !
There lock yourself, and send him word you
are dead.
The soul and body rive not more in parting
Than greatness going off.
Cleo. To the monument !
Mardian, go tell him I have slain myself;
920
ANTONY AND CLEOPATRA.
[ACT iv.
Say that the last I spoke was Antony ',
And word it, pr'ythee, piteously : hence, Mar-
dian;
And bring me how he takes my death.
To the monument ! [Exeunt.
SCENE XIV. ALEXANDRIA. Another Room.
Enter ANTONY and EROS.
Ant. Eros, thou yet behold'st me ?
Eros. Ay, noble lord.
Ant. Sometime we see a cloud that's
dragonish ;
A vapour sometime like a bear or lion,
A tower'd citadel, a pendant rock,
A forked mountain, or blue promontory
With trees upon 't, that nod unto the world,
And mock our eyes with air : thou hast seen
these signs j
They are black vesper's pageants.
Eros. Ay, my lord.
Ant. That which is now a horse, even with
a thought
The rack dislimns ; and makes it indistinct,
As water is in water.
Eros. It does, my lord. [is
Ant. My good knave Eros, now thy captain
Even such a body : here I am Antony ;
Yet cannot hold this visible shape, my knave.
I made these wars for Egypt ; and the queen,
Whose heart I thought I had, for she had mine ;
Which, whilst it was mine, had annex'd unto 't
A million more now lost, she, Eros, has
Pack'd cards with Caesar, and false-play'd my
glory
Unto an enemy's triumph.
Nay, weep not, gentle Eros ; there is left us
Ourselves to end ourselves.
Enter MARDIAN.
O, thy vile lady !
She has robb'd me of my sword.
Mar. No, Antony ;
My mistress lov'd thee, and her fortunes mingled
With thine entirely.
Ant. Hence, saucy eunuch ; peace !
She hath betray'd me, and shall die the death.
Mar. Death of one person can be paid but
once, [do
And that she has discharg'd : what thou wouldst
Is done unto thy hand : the last she spake
Was, Antony I most noble Antony !
Then in the midst a tearing groan did break
The name of Antony ; it was divided
Between her heart and lips : she render'd life,
Thy name so buried in her.
Ant. Dead then?
Mar. Dead.
Ant. Unarm, Eros; the long day's task is
done, [safe
And we must sleep. That thou depart'st hence
Does pay thy labour richly ; go.
[Exit MARDIAN.
Off, pluck off;
The sevenfold shield of Ajax cannot keep
The battery from my heart. O, cleave, my sides !
Heart, once be stronger than thy continent,
Crack thy frail case ! Apace, Eros, apace.
No more a soldier. Bruised pieces, go ;
You have been nobly borne. From me awhile.
[Exit EROS.
I will o'ertake thee, Cleopatra, and
Weep for my pardon. So it must be, for now
All length is torture. Since the torch is out,
Lie down, and stray no further : now all labour
Mars what it does ; yea, very force entangles
Itself withstrength: seal then, and all is done.
Eros ! I come, my queen. Eros ! stay for
me : [hand,
Where souls do couch on flowers, we '11 hand in
And with our sprightly port make the ghosts
gaze:
Dido and her ^Eneas shall want troops,
And all the haunt be ours. Come, Eros, Eros!
Re-enter EROS.
Eros. What would my lord ?
Ant. Since Cleopatra died,
I have liv'tj in such dishonour that the gods
Detest my baseness. I, that with my sword
Quarter'd the world, and o'er green Neptune's
back
With ships made cities, condemn myself to lack
The courage of a woman ; less noble mind
Than she which by her death our Csesar tells,
/ am conqueror of myself. Thou art sworn, Eros,
That, when the exigent should come, which
now
Is come indeed when I should see behind me
The inevitable prosecution of
Disgrace and horror, that, on my command,
Thou then wouldst kill me : do 't ; the time is
come :
Thou strik'st not me, 'tis Csesiir thou defeat'st.
Put colour in thy cheek.
Eros. The gods withhold me !
Shall I do that which all the Parthian darts,
Though enemy, lost aim, and could not ?
Ant. Eros,
Wouldst thou be window'd in great Rome, and
see
Thy master thus with pleach'd arms, bending
down
His corrigible neck, his face subdu'd
To penetrative shame ; whilst the wheel'd seat
SCENE XIV.]
ANTONY AND CLEOPATRA.
921
Of fortunate Caesar, drawn before him, branded
His baseness that ensu'd ?
Eros. I would not see J t.
Ant. Come, then ; for with a wound I must
be cur'd. [worn
Draw that thy honest sword, which thou hast
Most useful for thy country.
Eros. O, sir, pardon me !
Ant. When I did make thee free, swor'st
thou not then
To do this when I bade thee ? Do it at once ;
Or thy precedent services, are all
But accidents unpurpos'd. Draw, and come.
Eros. Turn from me then that noble counten-
ance,
Wherein the worship of the whole world lies.
Ant. Lo thee ! [Turning from him.
Eros. My sword is drawn.
Ant. Then let it do at once
The thing why thou hast drawn it.
Eros. My dear master,
My captain and my emperor, let me say,
Before I strike this bloody stroke, farewell.
Ant. 'Tis said, man ; and farewell, [now?
Eros. Farewell, great chief. Shall I strike
Ant. Now, Eros.
Eros. Why, there then [/#//.? on his sword]:
thus do I escape the sorrow
Of Antony's death. [Dies.
Ant. Thrice nobler than myself !
Thou teachest me, O valiant Eros, what [Eros
I should, and thou couldst not. My queen and
Have, by their brave instruction, got upon me
A nobleness on record : but I will be
A bridegroom in my death, and run into 't
As to a lover's bed. Come, then ; and, Eros,
Thy master dies thy scholar : to do thus
[Falling on his sword.
I learn'd of thee. How ! not dead ? not dead ?
The guard, ho ! O, despatch me !
Enter DERCETAS and Guard.
1 Guard. What's the noise ?
Ant. I have done my work ill, friends : O,
make an end
Of what I have begun.
2 Guard. The stai is fallen.
I Guard. And time is at his period.
All. Alas, and woe 1
Ant. Let him that loves me, strike me dead.
1 Guard. Not I.
2 Guard. Nor I.
3 Guard. Nor any one. [Exeunt Guard.
Der. Thy death and fortunes bid thy followers
fly. {ings,
This sword but shown to Caesar, with this tid-
Shall enter me with him.
Enter DIOMEDES.
Dio. Where 's Antony ?
Der. There, Diomed, there.
Dio. Lives he ?
Wilt thou not answer, man ?
[Exit DERCETAS.
Ant. Art thou there, Diomed? Draw thy
sword, and give me
Sufficing strokes for death.
Dio. Most absolute lord,
My mistress Cleopatra sent me to thee.
Ant. When did she send thee ?
Dio. Now, my lord.
Ant. Where is she ?
Dio. Lock'd in her monument. She had a
prophesying fear
Of what hath come to pass : for when she saw,
Which never shall be found, you did suspect
She had dispos'd with Caesar, and that your rage
Would not be purg'd, she sent you word she
was dead ;
But, fearing since how it might work, hath sent
Me to proclaim the truth ; and I am come,
I dread, too late.
Ant. Too late, good Diomed. Call my
guard, I pr'ythee.
Dio. What, ho ! the emperor's guard ! The
guard, what, ho !
Come, your lord calls !
Enter some of the Guard.
Ant. Bear me, good friends, where Cleopatra
bides;
'Tis the last service that I shall command you.
i Guard. Woe, woe are we, sir, you may
not live to wear
All your true followers out.
All. Most heavy day !
Ant. Nay, good my fellows, do not please
sharp fate [come
To grace it with your sorrows : bid that wel-
Which comes to punish us, and we punish it,
Seeming to bear it lightly. Take me up :
I have led you oft : carry me now, good friends,
And have my thanks for all.
[Exeunt, bearing ANTONY.
SCENE XV. ALEXANDRIA. A Monument.
Enter, above, CLEOPATRA, CHARMIAN, and
IRAS.
Cleo. O Charmian, I will never go from hence.
Char. Be comforted, dear madam.
Cleo. No, I will not :
All strange and terrible events are welcome,
But comforts we despise ; our size of sorrow,
922
ANTONY AND CLEOPATRA.
[ACT iv.
Proportion'd to our cause, must be as great
As that which makes it.
Enter, below, DiOMEDES.
How now ! is he dead ?
Dio. His death 's upon him, but not dead.
Look out o' the other side your monument ;
His guard have brought him thither.
Enter, below, ANTONY, borne by the Guard.
Cleo. O sun,
Burn the great sphere thou mov'st in ! -dark-
ling stand
The varying shore o' the "world. O Antony,
Antony, Antony ! Help, Charmian ; help,
Iras, help,
Help, friends below ; let 's draw him hither.
Ant. Peace !
Not Caesar's valour hath o'erthrown Antony,
But Antony's hath triumph'd on itself.
Cleo. So it should be, that none but Antony
Should conquer Antony ; but woe 'tis so !
Ant. I am dying, Egypt, dying ; only
I here importune death awhile, until
Of many thousand kisses the poor last
I lay upon thy lips.
Cleo. I dare not, dear,
Dear my lord, pardon, I dare net,
Lest I be taken : not the imperious show
Of the full-fortun'd Caesar ever shall [have
Be brooch'd with me : if knife, drugs, serpents
Edge, sting, or operation, I am safe ;
Your wife Octavia, with her modest eyes
And still conclusion, shall acquire no honour
Demuring upon me. But come, come, An-
tony, [up ;
Help me, my women, we must draw thee
Assist, good friends.
Ant. O, quick, or I am gone.
Cleo. Here's sport indeed ! How heavy
weighs my lord !
Our strength is all gone into heaviness,
That makes the weight: had I great Juno's
power,
The strong-wing'd Mercury should fetch thee
And set thee by Jove's side. Yet come a
little,
Wishers were ever fools, O, come, come, come;
[They draw ANTONY up.
And welcome, welcome ! die where thou hast
liv'd :
Quicken with kissing : had my lips that power,
Thus would I wear them out.
All. A heavy sight !
Ant. I am dying, Egypt, dying :
Give me some wine, and let me speak a little.
Cleo. No, let me speak ; and let me rail sc
high [wheel.
That the false housewife Fortune break he*
Provok'd by my offence.
Ant. One word, sweet queen ?
Of Caesar seek your honour, with your safety.
Cleo. They do not go together.
Ant. Gentle, hear me :
None about Caesar trust but Proculeius.
Cleo. My resolution and my hands I '11 trust ;
None about Caesar.
Ant. The miserable change now at my end
Lament nor sorrow at : but please your thoughts
In feeding them with those my former fortunes
Wherein I liv'd, the greatest prince o' the world,
The noblest ; and do now not basely die,
Not cowardly put off my helmet to
My countryman, a Roman by a Roman
Valiantly vanquished. Now my spirit is going :
I can no more.
Cleo. Noblest of men, woo 't die ?
Hast thou no care of me ? shall I abide
In this dull world, which in thy absence is
No better than a sty ? O, see, my women,
[ANTONY dies.
The crown o' the earth doth melt. My lord !
O, wither'd is the garland of the war, [girls
The soldier's pole is fallen: young boys and
Are level now with men : the odds is gone,
And there is nothing left remarkable
Beneath the visiting moon. [Faints.
Char. O, quietness, lady !
Iras. She is dead too, our sovereign.
Char. Lady,
Iras. Madam,
Char. O madam, madam, madam,
Iras. Royal Egypt,
Empress,
Char. Peace, peace, Iras! [manded
Cleo. No more, but e'en a woman, and corn-
By such poor passion as the maid that milks
And does the meanest chares. It were for me
To throw my sceptre at the injurious gods ;
To tell them that this world did equal theirs
Till they had stol'n our j e wel. All 's but naught :
Patience is sottish, and impatience does
Become a dog that 's mad : then is it sin
To rush into the secret house of death
Ere death dare come to us? How do you,
women? [Charmian!
What, what! good cheer! Why, how now,
My noble girls ! Ah, women, women, look,
Our lamp is spent, it 's out ! Good sirs, take
heart ; [noble,
We '11 bury him ; and then, what 's brave, what 's
Let 's do it after the high Roman fashion,
SCENE XV.]
ANTONY AND CLEOPATRA.
923
And make death proud to take us. Come,
away:
This case of that huge spirit now is cold :
Ah, women, women ! Come ; we have no friend
But resolution, and the briefest end.
[Exetmt; those above bearing off ANTONY'S
body.
ACT V.
SCENE I. CESAR'S Camp before Alexandria.
Enter CAESAR, AGRIPPA, DOLABELLA, ME-
C^NAS, GALLUS, PROCULEIUS, and others.
Cas. Go to him, Dolabella, bid him yield ;
Being so frustrate, tell him that he mocks
The pauses that he makes.
DoL Csesar, I shall. [Exit.
Enter DERCETAS with the sword of ANTONY.
Cas. Wherefore is that? and what art thou
that dar'st
Appear thus to us?
Der. I am call'd Dercetas ;
Mark Antony I serv'd, who best was worthy
Best to be serv'd : whilst he stood up and spoke,
He was my master ; and I wore my life
To spend upon his haters. If thou please
To take me to thee, as I was to him
I '11 be to Caesar ; if thou pleasest not,
I yield thee up my life.
Cas. What is 't thou say'st ?
Der. I say, O Caesar, Antony is dead.
Cas. The breaking of so great a thing should
make
A greater crack : the round world
Should have shook lions into civil streets,
And citizens to their dens. The death of Antony
Is not a single doom ; in the name lay
A moiety of the world.
Der. He is dead, Caesar ;
Not by a public minister of justice,
Nor by a hired knife ; but that self hand
Which writ his honour in the acts it did
Hath, with the courage which the heart did
lend it,
Splitted the heart. This is his sword ;
I robb'd his wound of it ; behold it stain'd
With his most noble blood.
Cas. Look you sad, friends?
The gods rebuke me, but it is tidings
To wash the eyes of kings.
Agr. And strange it is
That nature must compel us to lament
Our most persisted deeds.
Mec. His taints and honours
Weigh'd equal with him.
Agr. A rarer spirit never
Did steer humanity : but you, gods, will give us
Some faults to make us men. Caesar is touch'd.
Mec. When such a spacious mirror's set
before him,
He needs must see himself.
Cas. O Antony !
I have follow'd thee to this. But we do lance
Diseases in our bodies : I must perforce
Have shown to thee such a declining day
Or look on thine ; we could not stall together
In the whole world : but yet let me lament,
With tears as sovereign as the blood of hearts,
That thou, my brother, my competitor
In top of all design, my mate in empire,
Friend and companion in the front of war,
The arm of mine own body, and the heart
Where mine his thoughts did kindle, that
our stars,
Unreconciliable, should divide
Our equalness to this. Hear me, good
friends,
But I will tell you at some meeter season :
Enter a Messenger.
The business of this man looks out of him ;
We '11 hear him what he says. Whence are you ?
Mess. A poor Egyptian yet. The queen my
mistress,
Confin'd in all she has, her monument,
Of thy intents desires instruction,
That she preparedly may frame herself
To the way she 's forc'd to.
Cas. Bid her have good heart :
She soon shall know of us, by some of ours,
How honourable and how kindly we
Determine for her ; for Caesar cannot learn
To be ungentle.
Mess. So the gods preserve thee ! [Exit.
Cas. Come hither, Proculeius. Go, and say
We purpose her no shame: give her what
comforts
The quality of her passion shall require
Lest, in her greatness, by some mortal stroke
She do defeat us; for her life in Rome
Would be eternal in our triumph : go,
And with your speediest bring us what she says,
And how you find of her.
Pro. Gesar, I shall. [Exit.
Cas. Gallus, go you along. [Exit GALLUS.]
Where 's Dolabella,
To second Proculeius?
Agr. and Mec. Dolabella!
Cas. Let him alone, for I remember now
How he 's employ'd : he shall in time be ready.
Go with me to my tent ; where you shall see
How hardly I was drawn into this war ;
How calm and gentle I proceeded still
924
ANTONY AND CLEOPATRA.
CACT v.
In all my writings: go with me, and see
What I can show in this. \_Exeunt.
SCENE II. ALEXANDRIA. A Room in the
Monument.
Enter CLEOPATRA, CHARMIAN, and IRAS.
Cleo. My desolation does begin to make
A better life. 'Tis paltry to be Caesar ;
Not being Fortune, he 's but Fortune's knave,
A minister of her will : and it is great
To do that thing that ends all other deeds;
Which shackles accidents and bolts up change ;
Which sleeps, and never palates more the dug,
The beggar's nurse and Caesar's.
Enter i to the gates of the Monument, PRO-
CULEIUS, GALLUS, and Soldiers.
Pro. Caesar sends greeting to the Queen of
Egypt;
And bids thee study on what fair demands
Thou mean'st to have him grant thee.
Cleo. What 's thy name ?
Pro. My name is Proculeius.
Cleo. Antony
Did tell me of you, bade me trust you ; but
I do not greatly care to be deceiv'd,
That have no use for trusting. If your master
Would haveaqueen his beggar, you musttellhim
That majesty, to keep decorum, must
No less beg than a kingdom : if he please
To give me conquer'd Egypt for my son,
He gives me so much of mine own as I
Will kneel to him with thanks.
Pro. Be of good cheer ;
You are fallen into a princely hand, fear nothing:
Make your full reference freely to my lord,
Who is so full of grace that it flows over
On all that need : let me report to him
Your sweet dependency; and you shall find
A conqueror that will pray in aid for kindness
Where he for grace is kneel'd to.
Cleo. Pray you, tell him
I am his fortune's vassal, and I send him
The greatness he has got. I hourly learn
A doctrine of obedience ; and would gladly
Look him i' the face.
Pro. This I '11 report, dear lady.
Have comfort, for I know your plight is pitied
Of him that caus'd it.
Gal. You see how easily she may be surpris'd :
[Here PROCULEIUS and two of the Guard
ascend the Monument by a ladder placed
against a window, and, havingdescended,
come behind CLEOPATRA. Some of the
Guard unbar and open the gates.
Guard her till Caesar come.
[To PRO. and the Guard. Exit.
Iras. Royal queen !
Char. O Cleopatra ! thou art taken, queen !
Cleo. Quick, quick, good hands.
[Drawing- a dagger.
Pro. Hold, worthy lady, hold :
[Seizes and disarms her.
Do not yourself such wrong, who are in this
Reliev'd, but not betray' d.
Cleo. What, of death too,
That rids our dogs of languish?
Pro. Cleopatra,
Do not abuse my master's bounty by
The undoing of yourself : let the world see
His nobleness well acted, which your death
Will never let come forth.
Cleo. Where art thou, death ?
Come hither, come! come, come, and take a
queen
Worth many babes and beggars !
Pro. O, temperance, lady!
Cleo. Sir, I will eat no meat, I '11 not drink,
sir;
If idle talk will once be accessary,
I '11 not sleep neither : this mortal house I '11 ruin,
Do Caesar what he can. Know, sir, that I
Will not wait pinion'd at your master's court ;
Nor once be chastis'd with the sober eye
Of dull Octavia. Shall they hoist me up,
And show me to the shouting varletry
Of censuring Rome? Rather a ditch in Egypt
Be gentle grave unto me ! rather on Nilus' mud
Lay me stark nak'd, and let the water-flies
Blow me inco abhorring ! rather make
My country's high pyramides my gibbet,
And hang me up in chains !
Pro. You do extend
These thoughts of horror further than you shall
Find cause in Caesar.
Enter DOLABELLA. ,
Dol. Proculeius,
What thou hast done thy master Caesar knows,
And he hath sent for thee: as for the queen,
I '11 take her to my guard.
Pro. So, Dolabella,
It shall content me best: be gentle to her.
To Caesar I will speak what you shall please,
[To CLEOPATRA.
If you '11 employ me to him.
Cleo. Say I would die.
[Exeunt PROCULEIUS and Soldiers.
Dol. Most noble empress, you have heard of
me?
Cleo. I cannot tell.
Dol. Assuredly you know me.
Cleo. No matter, sir, what I have heard or
known.
SCENE II.]
ANTONY AND CLEOPATRA.
925
Vou laugh when boys or women tell their
dreams ;
Is't not your trick?
Dol. I understand not, madam.
Cleo. I dream'd there was an emperor
Antony :
O, such another sleep, that I might see
But such another man !
Dol. If it might please you,
Cko. His face was as the heavens ; and there-
in stuck
A sun and moon, which kept their course, and
lighted
The little O, the earth.
Dol. Most sovereign creature,
Cko. His legs bestrid the ocean : his rear'd
arm
Crested the world : his voice was propertied
As all the tuned spheres, and that to friends ;
But when he meant to quail and shake the orb,
He was as rattling thunder. For his bounty,
There was no winter in 't ; an autumn 'twas
That grew the more by reaping : his delights
Were dolphin-like ; they show'd his back above
The element they liv'd in : in his livery
Walk'd crowns and crownets ; realms and
islands were
As plates dropp'd from his pocket.
Dol. Cleopatra,
Cleo. Think you there was or might be such
a man
As this I dream'd of?
Dol. Gentle madam, no.
Cleo. You lie, up to the hearing of the gods.
But if there be, or ever were, one such,
It 's past the size of dreaming : nature wants
stuff
To vie strange forms with fancy : yet to imagine
An Antony were nature's peace 'gainst fancy,
Condemning shadows quite.
Dol. Hear me, good madam.
Your loss is, as yourself, great ; and you bear it
As answering to the weight : would I might
never
O'ertake pursu'd success, but I do feel,
By the rebound of yours, a grief that smites
My very heart at root.
Cleo. I thank you, sir.
Know you what Caesar means to do with me ?
Dol. I am loth to tell you what I would you
knew.
Cleo. Nay, pray you, sir,
Dol. Though he be honourable,
Cleo. He '11 lead me, then, in triumph ?
Dol. Madam, he will ;
I know it. [Flourish within*
Within. Make way there, Caesar !
Enter OESAR, CALLUS, PROCULEIUS,
MEC^ENAS, SELEUCUS, and Attendants.
Cas. Which is the Queen of Egypt ?
Dol. It is the emperor, madam.
[CLEOPATRA kneels.
Czs. Arise, you shall not kneel :
I pray you rise ; rise, Egypt.
Cleo. Sir, the gods
Will have it thus ; my master and my lord
I must obey.
Cas. Take to you no hard thoughts :
The record of what injuries you did us,
Though written in our flesh, we shall remember
As things but done by chance.
Cleo. Sole sir o' the world,
I cannot project mine own cause so well
To make it clear : but do confess I have
Been laden with like frailties which before
Have often sham'd our sex.
Cas. Cleopatra, know
We will extenuate rather than enforce :
If you apply yourself to our intents, [find
Which towards you are most gentle, you shall
A benefit in this change ; but if you seek
To lay on me a cruelty, by taking
Antony's course, you shall bereave yourself
Of my good purposes, and put your children
To that destruction which I 11 guard them from,
If thereon you rely. I '11 take my leave.
Cleo. And may, through all the world : 'tis
yours ; and we,
Your scutcheons and your signs of conquest,
shall [good lord.
Hang in what place you please. Here, my
Cas. You shall advise me in all for Cleopatra.
Cleo. This is the brief of money, plate, and
jewels
I am possess'd of : 'tis exactly valued ; [cus ?
Not petty things admitted. Where's Seleu-
Sel. Here, madam. [my lord,
Cleo. This is my" treasurer : let him speak,
Upon his peril, that I have reserv'd
To myself nothing. Speak the truth, Seleucus.
Sel. Madam,
I had rather seal my lips than to my peril
Speak that which is not.
Cleo. What have I kept back ?
Sel. Enough to purchase what you have
made known.
Cas. Nay, blush not, Cleopatra ; I approve
Your wisdom in the deed.
Cleo. See, Caesar ! O, behold,
How pomp is follow'd I mine will now be
yours ; [mine.
And, should we shift estates, yours would be
The ingratitude of this Seleucus does
9 26
ANTONY AND CLEOPATRA.
[ACT v.
Even make me wild : O slave, of no more trust
Than love that 's hir'd ! What, goest thou
back ? thou shalt
Go back, I warrant thee ; but I '11 catch thine
eyes [dog !
Though they had wings ; slave, soulless villain,
O rarely base !
Cces. Good queen, let us entreat you.
Cleo. O Caesar, what a wounding shame is
this,
That thou, vouchsafing here to visit me,
Doing the honour of thy lordliness
To one so meek, that mine own servant should
Parcel the sum of my disgraces by
Addition of his envy ! Say, good Caesar,
That I some lady trifles have reserv'd,
Immoment toys, things of such dignity
As we greet modern friends withal ; and say,
Some nobler token I have kept apart
For Livia and Octavia, to induce
Their mediation ; must I be unfolded
With one that I have bred ? The gods ! It
smites me
Beneath the fall I have. Pr'ythee, go hence ;
[To SELEUCUS.
Or I shall show the cinders of my spirits
Through the ashes of my chance. Wert thou
a man,
Thou wouldst have mercy upon me.
Cas. Forbear, Seleucus,
[Exit SELEUCUS.
Cleo. Be it known that we, the greatest, are
misthought
For things that others do ; and when we fall
We answer others' merits in our name.
And therefore to be pitied.
Cces. Cleopatra,
Not what you have reserv'd, nor what acknow-
ledg'd,
Put we i' the roll of conquest : still be 't yours,
Bestow it at your pleasure ; and believe
Caesar 's no merchant, to iriake prize with you
Of things that merchants sold. Therefore be
cheer 5 d ;
Make not your thoughts your prisons : no, dear
queen ;
For we intend so to dispose you as
Yourself shall give us counsel. Feed and sleep :
Our care and pity is so much upon you
That we remain your friend ; and so, adieu.
Cleo. My master and my lord !
Cces. Not so. Adieu.
[Flourish. Exeunt C^SAR and his Train.
Cleo. He words me, girls, he words me, that
I should not
Be noble to myself : but hark thee, Charmian !
[ Whispers CHARMIAN.
Iras. Finish, good lady; the bright day is
done,
And we are for the dark.
Cleo. Hie thee again :
I have spoke already, and it is provided ;
Go put it to the haste.
Char. Madam, I will.
Re-enter DOLABELLA.
t
DoL Where is the queen?
Char. Behold, sir. [Exit.
Cleo. Dolabella !
Dol. Madam, as thereto sworn by your
command,
Which my love makes religion to obey,
I tell you this : Caesar through Syria
Intends his journey ; and within three days
You with your children will he send before :
Make your best use of this : I have perform'd
Your pleasure and my promise.
Cleo. Dolabella,
I shall remain your debtor.
Dol. I your servant.
Adieu, good queen ; I must attend on Csesar.
Cleo. Farewell, and thanks.
[Exit DOLABELLA.
Now, Iras, what think' st thou ?
Thou, an Egyptian puppet, shalt be shown
In Rome as well as I : mechanic slaves,
With greasy aprons, rules, and hammers, shall
Uplift us to the view ; in their thick breaths,
Rank of gross diet, shall we be enclouded,
And forc'd to drink their vapour.
Iras. The gods forbid !
Cleo. Nay, 'tis most certain, Iras : saucy
lictors [rhymers
Will catch at us like strumpets; and scald
Ballad us out o' tune : the quick comedians
Extemporally will stage us, and present
Our Alexandrian revels ; Antony
Shall be brought drunken forth, and I shall see
Some squeaking Cleopatra boy my greatness
I' the posture of a whore.
Iras. O the good gods !
Cleo. Nay, that's certain.
Iras. I '11 never see 't ; for I am sure my nails
Are stronger than mine eyes.
Cleo. ' Why, that 's the way
To fool their preparation and to conquer
Their most absurd intents.
Enter CHARMIAN.
Now, Charmian !
Show me, my women, like a queen. Go fetch
My best attires ; I am again for Cydnus,
To meet Mark Antony : sirrah, Iras, go.
Now, noble Charmian, we '11 despatch indeed :
SCENE II.]
ANTONY AND CLEOPATRA.
927
And when thou hast done this chare, I '11 give
thee leave [all.
To play till doomsday. Bring our crown and
Wherefore 's this noise ?
[Exit IRAS. A noise within.
Enter one of the Guard.
Guard. Here is a rural fellow
That will not be denied your highness' presence :
He brings you figs.
Cleo. Let him come in. [Exit Guard.
What poor an instrument
May do a noble deed ! he brings me liberty.
My resolution 's plac'd, and I have nothing
Of woman in me : now from head to foot
I am marble-constant ; now the fleeting moon
No planet is of mine.
Re-enter Guard, with Clown bringing a basket.
Guard. This is the man.
Cleo. Avoid, and leave him. [Exit Guard.
Hast thou the pretty worm of Nilus there
That kills and pains not ?
Clown. Truly, I have him : but I would not
be the party that should desire you to touch
him, for his biting is immortal ; those that do
die of it do seldom or never recover. [on 't ?
Cleo. Remember'st thou any that have died
Clown. Very many, men and women too.
I heard of one of them no longer than yester-
day : a very honest woman, but something
given to lie ; as a woman should not do but in
the way of honesty : how she died of the biting
of it, what pain she felt, truly she makes a
very good report o' the worm ; but he that will
believe all that they say shall never be saved
by half that they do : but this is most fallible,
the worm 's an odd worm.
Cleo. Get thee hence ; farewell.
Clown. I wish you all joy of the worm.
[Sets down the basket.
Cleo. Farewell.
Clown. You must think this, look you, that
the worm will do his kind.
Cleo. Ay, ay ; farewell.
Clown. Look you, the worm is not to be
trusted but in the keeping of wise people ; for
indeed there is no goodness in the worm.
Cleo. Take thou no care ; it shall be heeded.
Clown. Very good. Give it nothing, I pray
you, for it is not worth the feeding.
Cleo. Will it eat me?
Clown. You must not think I am so simple
but I know the devil himself will not eat a
woman: I know that a woman is a dish for
the gods, if the devil dress her not. But, truly,
these same whoreson devils do the gods great
harm in their women, for in every ten that they
make the devils mar five.
Cleo. Well, get thee gone ; farewell.
Clown. Yes, forsooth : I wish you joy o' the
worm. [Exit.
Re-enter IRAS, with a r?be t crown, SrY.
Cleo. Give me my robe, put on my crown;
I have
Immortal longings in me : now no more
The juice of Egypt's grape shall moist this lip :
Yare, yare, good Iras ; quick. Methinks I hear
Antony call ; I see him rouse himself
To praise my noble act ; I hear him mock
The luck of Caesar, which the gods give men
To excuse their after wrath. Husband, I come :
Now to that name my courage prove my title !
I am fire and air ; my other elements
I give to baser life. So, have you done?
Come then, and take the last warmth of my lips.
Farewell, kind Charmian ; Iras, long farewell.
[Kisses them. iRAsfatts and dies.
Have I the aspic in my lips ? Dost fall ?
If thou and nature can so gently part,
The stroke of death is as a lover's pinch,
Which hurts and is desir'd. Dost thou lie still?
If thus thou vanishes!, thou tell'st the world
It is not worth leave-taking.
Char. Dissolve, thick cloud, and rain ; that
I may say
The gods themselves do weep !
Cleo. This proves me base :
If she first meet the curled Antony,
He '11 make demand of her, and spend that kiss
Which is my heaven to have. Come, thou
mortal wretch,
[To an aspy which she applies to her breast.
With thy sharp teeth this knot intrinsicate
Of life at once untie : poor venomous fool,
Be angry, and despatch. O couldst thou speak,
That I might hear thee call great Caesar ass
Unpolicied !
Char. O eastern star !
Cleo. Peace, peace !
Dost thou not see my baby at my breast
That sucks the nurse asleep ?
Char. O, break ! O, break !
Cleo. As sweet as balm, as soft as air, as
gentle :
O Antony ! Nay, I will take thee too :
[Applying another asp to her arm.
What, should I stay,
[Falls on a bed and dies.
Char. In this vile world? So, fare thee
well.
Now boast thee, death, in thy possession lies
A lass unparallel'd. Downy windows, close;
ANTONY AND CLEOPATRA.
[ACT v.
And golden Phoebus never be beheld
Of eyes again so royal ! Your crown 's awry ;
I '11 mend it and then play.
Enter the Guard, rushing in.
I Guard. Where is the queen?
Char. Speak softly, wake her not.
I Guard. Caesar hath sent,
Char. Too slow a messenger.
[Applies an asp.
O, come apace, despatch : I partly feel thee.
1 Guard. Approach, ho ! all 's not well :
Caesar 's beguil'd. [call him.
2 Guard. There 's Dolabella sent from Caesar ;
1 Guard. What work is here ! Charmian, is
this well done? [cess
Char. It is well done, and fitting for a prin-
Descended of so many royal kings.
Ah, soldier ! {Dies.
Re-enter DOLABELLA.
Dol. How goes it here?
2 Guard. All dead.
Dol. Caesar, thy thoughts
Touch their effects in this : thyself art coming
To see perform'd the dreaded act which thou
So sought'st to hinder.
Within. A way there, a way for Caesar !
Re-enter CAESAR and his Train.
Dol. O, sir, you are too sure an augurer ;
That you did fear is done.
Cces. Bravest at the last,
She levell'd at our purposes, and, being royal,
Took her own way. The manner of their
deaths?
I do not see them bleed.
Dol. ,:H, Who was last with them?
I Guard. A simple countryman that brought
her figs.
This was his basket.
Cas. Poison'd then.
I Guard. O Caesar,
This Charmian hVd but now ; she stood and
spake :
I found her trimming up the diadem
On her dead mistress ; tremblingly she stood,
And on the sudden dropp'd.
Gas. O noble weakness !
If they had swallow'd poison 'twould appear
By external swelling : but she looks like sleep,
As she would catch another Antony
In her strong toil of grace.
Dol. Here on her breast
.There is a vent of blood, and something blown :
The like is on her arm.
I Guard. This is an aspic's trail : and these
fig-leaves
Have slime upon them, such as the aspic leaves
Upon the caves of Nile.
Cess. Most probable
That so she died ; for her physician tells me
She hath pursu'd conclusions infinite
Of easy ways to die. Take up her bed,
And bear her women from the monument :
She shall be buried by her Antony:
No grave upon the earth shall clip in it
A pair so famous. High events as these
Strike those that make them ; and their story is
No less in pity than his glory which
Brought them to be lamented. Our army shall
In solemn show attend this funeral;
And then to Rome. Come, Dolabella, see
High order in this great solemnity. \Exeunt.
jo'rt ei tf TO!
CYMBELINE.
^nhtTft "e r r bo/.
~ t hm>D
PERSONS REPRESENTED.
CYMBELINE, King of Britain.
CLOTEN, Son to the Queen by a former Husband.
POSTHUMUS LEONATUS, a Gentleman, Hus-
band to IMOGEN.
BELARIUS, a banished Lord t disguised under
the name of MORGAN.
SSons to CYMBELINE, disguised
under the names of POLY-
DORE and CADWAL, sup-
posed Sons to BELARIUS.
PHILARIO, Friend to POSTHUMUS, \ T ..
IACHIMO, Friend to PHILARIO, /
A French Gentleman, Friend to PHILARIO.
CAIUS Lucius, General of the Roman Forces.
A Roman Captain.
Two British Captains.
PlSANIO, Servant to POSTHUMUS.
CORNELIUS, a Physician.
Two Lords of CYMBELINE'S Court.
Two Gentlemen of the same.
Two Gaolers.
QUEEN, Wife to CYMBELINE.
IMOGEN, Daughter to CYMBELINE by a former
Queen.
HELEN, Woman to IMOGEN.
Lords, Ladies, Roman Senators, Tribunes, Ap-
paritions, a Soothsayer, a Dutch Gentleman,
a Spanish Gentleman, Musicians, Officers,
Captains, Soldiers, Messengers, and other
Attendants.
SCENE, Sotnetimes in BRITAIN ; sometimes in ITALY.
ACT I.
SCENE I. BRITAIN. The Garden behind
CYMBELINE'S Palace.
Enter two Gentlemen.
1 Gent. You do not meet a man but frowns :
our bloods
No more obey the heavens than our courtiers
Still seem as does the king.
2 Gent. But what's the matter?
1 Gent. His daughter, and the heir of 's king-
dom, whom
He purpos'd to his wife's sole son, a widow
That late he married, hath referr'd herself
Unto a poor but worthy gentleman. She's
wedded ;
Her husband banish'd ; she imprison'd : all
Is outward sorrow ; though I think the king
Be touch'd at very heart.
2 Gent. None but the king ?
1 Gent. He that hath lost her too : so is the
queen, [courtier,
That most desir'd the match. But not a
Although they wear their faces to the bent
Of the king's looks, hath a heart that is not
Glad at tne thing they scowl at.
2 Gent. And why so?
I Gent. He that hath miss'd the princess is a
thing
Too bad for bad report : and he that hath her,
I mean that married her alack, good man !
And therefore banish'd, is a creature such
As, to seek through the regions of the earth
For one his like, there would be something failing
In him that should compare. I do not think
So fair an outward and such stuff within
Endows a man but he.
2 Gent. You speak him far.
1 Gent. I do extend him, sir, within himself;
Crush him together, rather than unfold
His measure duly.
2 Gent. What 's his name and birth?
I Gent. I cannot delve him to the root : his
father
Was call'd Sicilius, who did join his honour,
Against the Romans, with Cassibelan,
But had his titles by Tenantius, whom
He serv'd with glory and admir'd success,
So gain'd the sur-addition Leonatus:
And had, besides this gentleman in question,
Two other sons, who, in the wars o' the time,
Died with their swords in hand ; for which their
father,
Then old and fond of issue, took such sorrow
That he quit being ; and his gentle lady,
Big of this gentleman, our theme, deceas'd
As he was born. The king he takes the babe
To his protection; callshim Posthumus Leonatus;
Breeds him, and makes him of his bed-chamber:
Puts to him all the learnings that his time
Could make him the receiver of ; which he took,
As we do air, fast as 'twas minister'd ;
2G
930
CYMBELINE.
[ACT i.
And in's spring became a harvest: liv'd in
court,
Which rare it is to do, mostprais'd, most lov'd ;
A sample to the youngest j to the more mature
A glass that feated them ; and to the graver
A child that guided dotards : to his mistress,
For whom he now is banish'd, her own price
Proclaims how she esteem'd him and his virtue ;
By her election may be truly read
What kind of man he is.
2 Gent. I honour him
Even out of your report. But, pray you, tell me,
Is she sole child to the king ?
1 Gent. His only child.
He had two sons, if this be worth your hearing,
Mark it, the eldest of them at three years old,
I' the swathing clothes the other, from their
nursery [knowledge
Were stol'n ; and to this hour no guess in
Which way they went.
2 Gent. How long is this ago ?
1 Gent. Some twenty years. [convey'd !
2 Gent. That a king's children should be so
So slackly guarded ! And the search so slow
That could not trace them !
1 Gent. Howsoe'er 'tis strange,
Or that the negligence may well be iaugh'd at,
Yet is it true, sir.
2 Gent. I do well believe you.
i Gent. We must forbear : here comes the
gentleman,
The queen, and princess. [Exeunt.
Enter the QUEEN, POSTHUMUS, and IMOGEN.
Queen. No, be assur'd you shall not find me,
daughter,
After the slander of most stepmothers,
Evil-ey'd unto you : you 're my prisoner, but
Your gaoler shall deliver you the keys [mus,
That lock up your restraint. For you, Posthu-
So soon as I can win the offended king,
I will be known your advocate : marry, yet
The fire of rage is in him ; and 'twere good
You lean'd unto his sentence with what patience
Your wisdom may inform you.
Post. Please your highness,
I will from hence to-day.
1 Queen. You know the peril.
I '11 fetch a turn about the garden, pitying
The pangs of barr'd affections ; though the king
Hath charg'd you should not speak together.
\_Exit.
Into. O
Dissembling courtesy ! How fine this tyrant
Can tickle where she wounds ! -My dearest
husband, [ing,
I something fear my father's wrath ; but noth-
Always reserv'd my holy duty, what
His rage can do on me. You must be gone ;
And I shall here abide the hourly shot
Of angry eyes ; not comforted to live,
But that there is this jewel in the world
That I may see again.
Post. My queen ! my mistress !
lady, weep no more, lest I give cause
To be suspected of more tenderness
Than doth become a man ! I will remain
The loyal'st husband that did e'er plight troth:
My residence in Rome at one Philario's,
Who to my father was a friend, to me
Known but by letter : thither write, my queen,
And with mine eyes I '11 drink the words you
send,
Though ink be made of gall.
Re-enter QUEEN.
Queen. Be brief, I pray you :
If the king come I shall incur I know not
How much of his displeasure. [Aside.] Yet
I '11 move him
To walk this way : I never do him wrong
But he does buy my injuries to be friends,
Pays dear for my offences. [Exit.
Post. Should we be taking leave
As long a term as yet we have to live,
The loathness to depart would grow. Adieu !
Imo. Nay, stay a little :
Were you but riding forth to air yourself,
Such parting were too petty. Look here,
love;
This diamond was my mother's : take it, heart ;
But keep it till you woo another wife,
When Imogen is dead.
Post. How, how ! another ?
You gentle gods, give me but this I have,
And sear up my embracements from a next
With bonds of death ! Remain, remain thou
here [Putting on the ring.
While sense can keep it on ! And, sweetest.
fairest,
As I my poor self did exchange for you,
To your so infinite loss, so in our trifles
1 still win of you : for my sake wear this ;
It is a manacle of love ; I '11 place it
Upon this fairest prisoner.
[Putting a bracelet on her arm.
Imo. O the gods !
When shall we see again?
Post. Alack, the king !
v "o,-"
Enter CYMBELINE and Lords.
Cynu Thou basest thing, avoid ! hence from
my sight !
If after this command thou fraught the court
SCENE I.]
CYMBELINE.
931
With thy unworthiness, thou diest : away !
Thou art poison to my blood.
Post. The gods protect you !
And bless the good remainders of the court !
I am gone. [Exit.
Imo. There cannot be a pinch in death
More sharp than this is.
Cym. O disloyal thing,
That shouldst repair my youth, thou heapest
A year's age on me !
Imo. I beseech you, sir,
Harm not yourself with your vexation : I
Am senseless of your wrath ; a touch more rare
Subdues all pangs, all fears.
Cym. Past grace ? obedience ?
Imo. Past hope, and in despair ; that way
past grace. [my queen !
Cym. That mightst have had the sole son of
Imo. O bless'd that I might not ! I chose an
eagle,
And did avoid a puttock.
Cym. Thou took'st a beggar ; wouldst have
made my throne
A seat for baseness.
Imo. No ; I rather added
A lustre to it.
%~ m. O thou vile one !
o. Sir,
It is your fault that I have lov'd Posthumus :
You bred him as my playfellow ; and he is
A man worth any woman ; overbuys me
Almost the sum he pays.
Cym. What, art thou mad ?
Imo. Almost, sir : heaven restore me !
Would I were
A neat-herd's daughter, and my Leonatus
Our neighbour shepherd's son !
Cym. Thou foolish thing !
Re-enter QUEEN.
They were again together : you have done
[To the Queen.
Not after our command. Away with her,
And pen her up.
Queen. Beseech your patience. Peace,
Dear lady daughter, peace ! Sweet sovereign,
Leave us to ourselves; and make yourself some
comfort
Out of your best advice.
Cym. Nay, let her languish
A drop of blood a day ; and, being aged,
Die of this folly ! [Exit, with Lords.
Queen, Fie ! you must give way.
Enter PISANIO.
Here is your servant. How now, sir ! What
news?
Pis. My lord your son drew on my master.
Queen. Ha !
No harm, I trust, is done !
Pis. There might have been,
But that my master rather play'd than fought,
And had no help of anger : they were parted
By gentlemen at hand.
Queen. I am very glad on 't.
Imo. Your son 's my father's friend ; he takes
his part.
To draw upon an exile ! O brave sir !
I would they were in Afric both together ;
Myself by with a needle, that I might prick
The goer back. Why came you from your
master ? [me
Pis. On his command : he would not suffer
To bring him to the haven : left these notes
Of what commands I should be subject to,
When 't pleas'd you to employ me.
Queen. This hath been
Your faithful servant : I dare lay mine honour
He will remain so.
Pis. I humbly thank your highness.
Queen. Pray, walk awhile.
Imo. About some half hour hence,
I pray you, speak with me : you shall at least
Go see my lord aboard : for this time leave me.
[Exeunt.
SCENE II. BRITAIN. A Public Place.
Enter CLOTEN and two Lords.
1 Lord. Sir, I would advise you to shift a
shirt ; the violence of action hath made you
reek as a sacrifice : where air comes out air
comes in : there 's none abroad so wholesome
as that you vent.
Clo. If my shirt were bloody, then to shift
it. Have I hurt him?
2 Lord. [Aside.} No, faith ; not so much as
his patience.
1 Lord. Hurt him ! His body 's a passable
carcass if he be not hurt : it is a throughfare
for steel if it be not hurt.
2 Lord. [Aside.] His steel was in debt; it
went o' the back side the town.
Clo. The villain would not stand me.
2 Lord. [Aside.] No; but he fled forward
still, toward your face.
1 Lord. Stand you ! You have land enough
of your own : but he added to your having ;
gave you some ground.
2 Lord. [Aside.] As many inches as you have
oceans. Puppies I
Clo. I would they had not come between us.
2 Lord. [Aside.] So would I, till you had
932
CYMBELINE.
[ACT r.
measured how long a fool you were upon the
ground.
Clo. And that she should love this fellow,
and refuse me !
2 Lord. [Aside. ] If it be a sin to make a true
election, she is damned.
1 Lord. Sir, as I told you always, her
beauty and her brain go not together : she 's a
good jign, but I have seen small reflection of
her wit.
2 Lord. [Aside.] She shines not upon fools,
lest the reflection should hurt her.
Clo. Come, I'll to my chamber. Would
there had been some hurt done !
2 Lord. [Aside. ] I wish not so ; unless it had
been the fall of an ass, which is no great hurt.
Cio. You Ml go with us ?
1 Lord. I '11 attend your lordship.
Clo. Nay, come, let 's go together.
2 Lord. Well, my lord. [Exeunt.
SCENE III. BRITAIN. A Room in CYMBE-
LINE'S Palace.
Enter IMOGEN and PISANIO.
Into. I would thou grew'st unto the shores o'
the haven,
And questioned'st every sail : if he should write,
And I not have it, 'twere a paper lost,
As offer'd mercy is. What was the last
That he spake to thee ?
Pis. It was, His queen, his queen I
Into. Then wav'd his handkerchief?
Pis. And kiss'd it, madam.
Imo. Senseless linen I happier therein than
I!
And that was all ?
Pis. No, madam ; for so long
As he could make me with this eye or ear
Distinguish him from others, he did keep
The deck, with glove, or hat, or handkerchief
Still waving, as the fits and stirs of 's mind
Could best express how slow his soul sail'd on,
How swift his ship.
Imo. Thou shouldst have made him
As little as a crow, or less, ere left
To after-eye him.
Pis. Madam, so I did.
Into. I would have broke mine eye-strings,
crack'd them, but
To look upon him, till the diminution
Of space had pointed him sharp as my needle ;
Nay, follow'd him till he had melted from
The smallness of a gnat to air ; and then
Have turned mine eye and wept. But, good
Pisanio,
When shall we hear from him ?
Pis. Be assur'd, madam,
With his next vantage.
Imo. I did not take my leave of him, but had
Most pretty things to say : ere I could tell him
I low I would think on him, at certain hours,
Such thoughts and such ; or I could make him
swear
The shes of Italy should not betray [him
Mine interest and his honour ; or have charg'd
At the sixth hour of morn, at noon, at midnight,
To encounter me with orisons, for then
I am in heaven for him ; or ere I could
Give him that parting kiss which I had set
Betwixt two charming words, comes in my
father,
And like the tyrannous breathing of the north
Shakes all our buds from growing.
Enter a Lady.
Lady. The queen, madam.
Desires your highness' company.
Imo. Those things I bid ycu do, get them
despatched.
I will attend the queen.
Pis. Madam, I shall. [Exeunt.
SCENE IV. ROME. An Apartment in
PHILARIO'S House.
Enter PHILARIO, IACHIMO, a Frenchman, a
Dutchman, and a Spaniard.
loch. Believe it, sir, I have seen him in
Britain: he was then of a crescent note; ex-
pected to prove so worthy as since he hath been
allowed the name of: but I could then have
looked on him without the help of admiration ;
though the catalogue of his endowments had
been tabled by his side, and I to peruse him by
items.
Phi. You speak of him when he was less fur-
nished than now he is with that which makes
him both without and within.
French. I have seen him in France : we had
very many there could behold the sun with as
firm eyes as he.
loch. This matter of marrying his king's
daughter, wherein he must be weighed rather
by her value than his own, words him, I
doubt not, a great deal from the matter.
French. And then his banishment,
loch. Ay, and the approbation of those that
weep this lamentable divorce, under her colours,
are wonderfully to extend him; be it but to
fortify her judgment, which else an easy battery
might lay flat, for taking a beggar without less
quality. But how comes it he is to sojourn with
you? How creeps acquaintance?
SCENE IV.]
CYMBELINE.
933
Phi. His father and I were soldiers together ;
to whom I have been often bound for no less
than my life. Here comes the Briton : let him
be so entertained amongst you as suits with
gentlemen of your knowing to a stranger of his
quality.
Enter POSTHUMUS.
I beseech you all, be better known to this
gentleman ; whom I commend to you as a noble
friend of mine : how worthy he is I will leave
to appear hereafter, rather than story him in his
own hearing.
French. Sir, we have known together in
Orleans.
Post. Since when I have been debtor to you
for courtesies, which I will be ever to pay and
yet pay still.
French. Sir, you o'errate my poor kindness :
I was glad I did atone my countryman and
you; it had been pity you should have been
put together with so mortal a purpose as then
each bore, upon importance of so slight and
trivial a nature.
Post. By your pardon, sir, I was then a
young traveller; rather shunned to go even
with what I heard than in my every action to
be guided by others* experiences: but, upon
my mended judgment, if I offend not to say
it is mended, my quarrel was not altogether
slight.
French Faith, yes, to be put to the arbitre-
ment of swords ; and by such two that would,
by all likelihood, have confounded one the
other, or have fallen both.
lack. Can we, with manners, ask what was
the difference?
French. Safely, I think: 'twas a contention
in public, which may, without contradiction,
suffer the report. It was much like an argu-
ment that fell out last night, where each of us
fell in praise of our country mistresses; this
gentleman at that time vouching, and upon
warrant of bloody affirmation, his to be more
fair, virtuous, wise, chaste, constant-qualified,
and less attemptible than any the rarest of our
ladies in France.
lach. That lady is not now living; or this
gentleman's opinion, by this, worn out.
Post. She holds her virtue still, and I my
mind.
lach. You must not so far prefer her fore ours
of Italy.
Post. Being so far provoked as I was in
France, I would abate ner nothing; though I
profess myself her adorer, not her friend.
lach. As fair and as good, a kind of hand-
in-hand comparison, had been something too
fair and too good for any lady in Brittany. If
she went before others I have seen, as that
diamond of yours out-lustres many I have be-
held, I could not but believe she excelled
many: but I have not seen the most precious
diamond that is, nor you the lady.
Post. I praised her as I rated her : so do I
my stone.
lach. What do you esteem it at?
Post. More than the world enjoys.
lach. Either your unparagoned mistress is
dead, or she 's outprized by a trifle.
Post. You are mistaken : the one may be sold
or given, if there were wealth enough for the
purchase or merit for the gift : the other is not
a thing for sale, and only the gift of the gods.
lach. Which the gods have given you?
Post. Which, by their graces, I will keep.
lach. You may wear her in title yours : but,
you know, strange fowl light upon neighbour-
ing ponds. Your ring may be stolen too: so
your brace of unprizeable estimations, the one
is but frail and the other casual ; a cunning
thief or a that- way-accomplished courtier would
hazard the winning both of first and last.
Post. Your Italy contains none so accom-
plished a courtier to convince the honour of my
mistress, if in the holding or loss of that you
term her frail. I do nothing doubt you have
store of thieves ; notwithstanding I fear not my
ring.
Phi. Let us leave here, gentlemen.
Post. Sir, with all my heart. This worthy
signior, I thank him, makes no stranger of me ;
we are familiar at first.
lach. With five times so much conversation
I should gee ground of your fair mistress ; make
her go back even to the yielding, had I ad-
mittance and opportunity to friend.
Post. No, no.
lach. I dare thereupon pawn the moiety of
my estate to your ring ; which, in my opinion,
o'ervalues it something : but I make my wager
rather against your confidence than her reputa-
tion: and, to bar your offence herein too, I
durst attempt it against any lady in the
world.
Post. You are a great deal abused in too
bold a persuasion ; and I doubt not you sus-
tain what you 're worthy of by your attempt.
lach. What's that?
Post. A repulse : though your attempt, as you
call it, deserve more, a punishment too.
Phi. Gentlemen, enough of this : it came in
too suddenly ; let it die as it was born, and, I
pray you, be better acquainted.
934
CYMBELINE.
[ACT i.
loch. Would I had put my estate and my
neighbour's on the approbation of what I have
spoke !
Post. What lady would you choose to assail?
loch. Yours ; whom in constancy you think
stands so safe. I will lay you ten thousand
ducats to your ring that, commend me to the
court where your lady is, with no more ad-
vantage than the opportunity of a second
conference, and I will bring from thence
that honour of hers which you imagine so
reserved.
Post. I will wage against your gold gold to
it: my ring I hold dear as my finger ; 'tis part
of it.
loch. You are afraid, and therein the wiser.
If you buy ladies' flesh at a million a dram, you
cannot preserve it from tainting : but I see you
have some religion in you, that you fear.
Post. This is but a custom in your tongue ;
you bear a graver purpose, I hope.
lack. I am the master of my speeches ; and
would undergo what 's spoken, I swear.
Post. Will you? I shall but lend my diamond
till your return : let there be covenants drawn
between us: my mistress exceeds in goodness
the hugeness of your unworthy thinking: I dare
you to this match : here 's my ring.
Phi. I will have it no lay.
lack. By the gods, it is one. If I bring you
no sufficient testimony that I have enjoyed the
dearest bodily part of your mistress, my ten
thousand ducats are yours ; so is your diamond
too : if I come off, and leave her in such honour
as you have trust in, she your jewel, this your
jewel, and my gold are yours ; provided I
have your commendation for my more free
entertainment.
Post. I embrace these conditions ; let us have
articles betwixt us. Only, thus far you shall
answer: if you make your voyage upon her,
and give me directly to understand you have
prevail'd, I am no further your enemy; she is
not worth our debate : if she remain unseduced,
you not making it appear otherwise, for
your ill opinion and the assault you have made
to her chastity you shall answer me with your
sword.
loch. Your hand, a covenant : we will have
these things set down by lawful counsel, and
straight away for Britain, lest the bargain
should catch cold and starve : I will fetch my
gold, and have our two wagers recorded.
Post. Agreed. {Exeunt POST, and IACH.
French. Will this hold, think you?
Phi. Signior lachimo will not from it.
Pray, let us follow 'em. {Exeunt.
SCENE V. BRITAIN. A Room in CYM-
BELINE'S Palace.
Enter QUEEN, Ladies, and CORNELIUS.
Queen. Whiles yet the dew 's on ground
gather those flowers ;
Make haste: who has the note of them?
I Lady. I, madam.
Queen. Despatch. {Exeunt Ladies.
Now, master doctor, have you brought those
drugs?
Cor. Pleaseth your highness, ay : here they
are , madam : {Presenting a small box.
But I beseech your grace, without offence,
My conscience bids me ask, wherefore you
have
Commanded of me these most poisonous com-
pounds,
Which are the movers of a languishing death ;
But, though slow, deadly?
Queen. I wonder, doctor,
Thou ask'st me such a question. Have I not
been
Thy pupil long? Hast thou not learn'd me how
To make perfumes? distil? preserve? yea, so
That our great king himself doth woo me oft
For my confections? Having thus far pro-
ceeded,
Unless thou think'st me devilish, is 't not meet
That I did amplify my judgment in
Other conclusions? I will try the forces
Of these thy compounds on such creatures as
We count not worth the hanging, but none
human,
To try the vigour of them, and apply
Allayments to their act ; and by them gather
Their several virtues and effects.
Cor. Your highness
Shall from this practice but make hard your
heart:
Besides, the seeing these effects will be
Both noisome and infectious.
Queen. O, content thee.
Here comes a flattering rascal ; upon him
{Aside.
Will I first work : he 's for his master,
And enemy to my son.
Enter PISANIO.
How now, Pisanio !
Doctor, your service for this time is ended ;
Take your own way.
Cor. {Aside. ] I do suspect you, madam ;
But you shall do no harm.
Queen. Hark thee, a word.
{To PISANIO.
SCENE V.]
CYMBELINE.
935
Cor. [Aside.} I do not like her. She doth
think she has
Strange lingering poisons : I do know her spirit
And will not trust one of her malice with
A drug of such damn'd nature. Those she has
Will stupify and dull the sense awhile; [dogs,
Which first perchance she '11 prove on cats and
Then afterward up higher : but there is
No danger in what show of death it makes,
More than the locking up the spirits a time,
To be more fresh, reviving. She is fool'd
With a most false effect ; and I the truer
So to be false with her.
Queen. No further service, doctor,
Until I send for thee.
Cor. I humbly take my leave.
[Exit.
Queen. Weeps she still, say'st thou? Dost
thou think in time
She will not quench, and let instructions enter
Where folly now possesses? Do thou work :
When thou shalt bring me word she loves my
son,
I '11 tell thee on the instant thou art then
As great as is thy master ; greater, for
His fortunes all lie speechless, and his name
Is at last gasp : return he cannot, nor
Continue where he is : to shift his being
Is to exchange one misery with another ;
And every day that comes comes to decay
A day's work in him. What shalt thou expect,
To be depender on a thing that leans,
Who cannot be new built, nor has no friends
[The QUEEN drops the box: PISANIO
takes it up.
So much as but to prop him ? Thou tak'st up
Thou know'st not what; but take it for thy
labour :
It is a thing I made, which hath the king
Five times redeem'd from death : I do not know
What is more cordial : nay, I pr'ythee, take it ;
It is an earnest of a further good
That I mean to thee. Tell thy mistress how
The case stands with her ; do 't as from thyself.
Think what a chance thou changest on ; but
think
Thou hast thy mistress still, to boot, my son,
Who shall take notice of thee : I '11 move the
king
To any shape of thy preferment, such
As thou 'It desire ; and then myself, I chiefly,
That set thee on to this desert, am bound
To load thy merit richly. Call my women :
Think on my words. [Exit PISANIO.
A sly and constant knave ;
Not to be shak'd : the agent for his master ;
And the remembrancer of her to hold
The hand-fast to her lord. I have given him
that
Which, if he take, shall quite unpeople her
Of liegers for her sweet ; and which she after,
Except she bend her humour, shall be assur'd
To taste of too.
Re-enter PISANIO and Ladies.
So, so ; well done, well done :
The violets, cowslips, and the primroses,
Bear to my closet. Fare thee well, Pisanio ;
Think on my words.
[Exeunt QUEEN and Ladies.
Pis. And shall do :
But when to my good lord I prove untrue
I '11 choke myself : there 's all I '11 do for you.
[Exit.
SCENE VI. BRITAIN. Another Room in the
Palace.
Enter IMOGEN.
Into. A father cruel and a step-dame false ;
A foolish suitor to a wedded lady, [band !
That hath her husband banish'd ; O, that hus-
My supreme crown of grief ! and those repeated
Vexations of it ! Had I been thief-stolen,
As my two brothers, happy I but most miser-
able
Is the desire that 's glorious : bless'd be those,
How mean soe'er, that have their honest wills,
Which seasons comfort. Who may this be?
Fie!
Enter PISANIO and IACHIMO.
Pis. Madam, a noble gentleman of Rome
Comes from my lord with letters.
loch. Change you, madam ?
The worthy Leonatus is in safety,
And greets your highness dearly.
[Presents a letter.
Imo. Thanks, good sir :
Yon 're kindly welcome. [most rich !
lach. [Aside.'} All of her that is out of door
If she be furnish'd with a mind so rare,
She is alone the Arabian bird ; and I
Have lost the wager. Boldness be my friend !
Arm me, audacity, from head to foot !
Or, like the Parthian, I shall flying fight ;
Rather directly fly.
Imo. [Reads.} He is one of the noblest iwte t
to whose kindnesses 1 am most infinitely tied.
Reflect upon him accordingly , as you value
your truest LEONATUS.
So far I read aloud :
But even the very middle of my heart
Is warm'd by the rest, and takes it thankfully.
936
CYMBELINE.
[ACT I.
You are as welcome, worthy sir, as I
Have words to bid you ; and shall find it so
In all that I can do.
lack. Thanks, fairest lady.
What, are men mad? Hath nature given them
eyes
To see this vaulted arch, and the rich cope
Of sea and land, which can distinguish 'twixt
The fiery orbs above and the twinn'd stones
Upon th' unnumber'd beach ? and can we not
Partition make with spectacles so precious
'Twixt fair and foul ?
Imo. What makes your admiration ?
loch. It cannot be i' the eye ; for apes and
monkeys,
'Twixt two such shes, would chatter this way
and [ment ;
Contemn with mows the other: nor i' the judg-
For idiots in this case of favour would
Be wisely definite : nor i' the appetite ;
Sluttery, to such neat excellence oppos'd,
Should make desire vomit emptiness,
Not so allur'd to feed.
Imo. What is the matter, trow ?
loch. The cloyed will,
That satiate yet unsatisfied desire, [first
That tub both fill'd and running, ravening
The lamb, longs after for the garbage.
Imo. What, dear sir,
Thus raps you ? Are you well ?
lack. Thanks, madam; well. Beseech you,
sir, desire [To PISANIO.
My man's abode where I did leave him : he
Is strange and peevish.
Pis. I was going, sir,
To give him welcome. \Exit.
Imo. Continues well my lord ? His health,
beseech you ?
loch. Well, madam.
Imo. Is he dispos'd to mirth ? I hope he is.
lack. Exceeding pleasant ; none a stranger
there
So merry and so gamesome : he is call'd
The Briton reveller.
Imo. When he was here
He did incline to sadness ; and ofttimes
Not knowing why.
lack. I never saw him sad.
There is a Frenchman his companion, one
An eminent monsieur, that, it seems, much loves
A Gallian girl at home : he furnaces [ton,
The thick sighs from him; whiles the jolly Bri-
Your lord, I mean, laughs from 's free lungs,
cries, O, [knows
Can my sides hold, to think that man, who
By history, report, or his own proof,
What woman is, yea, what she cannot choose
But must be,~**-will his free hours languish for
Assured bondage?
Imo. Will my lord say so?
lack. Ay, madam; with his eyes in flood
with laughter.
It is a recreation to be by [heavens know,
And hear him mock the Frenchman. But,
Some men are much to blame.
Imo. Not he, I hope.
lack. Not he: but yet heaven's bounty to-
wards him might
Be us'd more thankfully. In himself 'tis much ;
In you, which I count his beyond all talents,
Whilst I am bound to wonder I am bound
To pity too.
Imo. What do you pity, sir?
lack. Two creatures heartily.
Imo. Am I one, sir?
You look on me : what wreck discern you in me
Deserves your pity?
lack. ' Lamentable! What,
To hide me from the radiant sun, and solace
I' the dungeon by a snuff?
Imo. I pray you, sir,
Deliver with more openness your answers
To my demands. Why do you pity me?
lack. That others do,
I was about to say, enjoy your But
It is an office of the gods to venge it,
Not mine to speak on 't.
Imo. You do seem to know
Something of me, or what concerns me : pray
you,
Since doubting things go ill often hurts more
Than to be sure they do ; for certainties
Either are past remedies, or, tunely knowing,
The remedy then born, discover to me
What both you spur and stop.
lack. Had I this cheek
To bathe my lips upon ; this hand, whose touch,
Whose every touch, would force the feeler's soul
To the oath of loyalty; this object, which
Takes prisoner the wild motion of mine eye,
Fixingit only here ; should I, damn'd then,
Slaver with lips as common as the stairs
That mount the Capitol; join gripes with hands
Made hard with hourly falsehood, falsehood as
With labour, then bo-peeping in an eye
Base and unlustrous as the smoky light
That 's fed with stinking tallow, it were fit
That all the plagues of hell should at one time
Encounter such revolt.
Imo. My lord, I fear,
Has forgot Britain.
lack. And himself. Not I,
Inclin'd to this intelligence, pronounce
The beggary of his change ; but 'tis your graces
SCENE VI.]
CYMBELINE.
937
That from my mutest conscience to my tongue
Charms this report out.
Imo. Let me hear no more.
loch. O dearest soul ! your cause doth strike
my heart
With pity that doth make me sick ! A lady
So fair, and fasten'd to an empery,
Would make the great'st king double, to be
partner'd
With tomboys, hir'd with that self-exhibition
Which your own coffers yield! with diseas'd
ventures,
That play with ail infirmities for gold [stuff
Which rottenness can lend nature ! such boil'd
As well might poison poison ! Be reveng'd ;
Or she that bore you was no queen, and you
Recoil from your great stock.
Imo. Reveng'd !
How should I be reveng'd? If this^be true,
As I have such a heart that both mine ears
Must not in haste abuse, if it be true,
How should I be reveng'd?
lack. Should he make me
Live like Diana's priest betwixt cold sheets,
Whiles he is vaulting variable ramps,
In your despite, upon your purse? Revenge it.
I dedicate myself to your sweet pleasure ;
More noble than that runagate to your bed ;
And will continue fast to your affection,
Still close as sure.
Imo. What ho, Pisanio !
lack. Let me my service tender on your lips.
Imo. Away ! I do condemn mine ears that
have
So long attended thee. If thou wert honourable
Thou wouldst have told this tale for virtue, not
For such an end thou seek'st, as base as
strange.
Thou wrong'st a gentleman who is as far
From thy report as thou from honour; and
Solicit'st here a lady that disdains
Thee and the devil alike. What, ho, Pisanio!
The king my father shall be made acquainted
Of thy assault : if he shall think it fit
A saucy stranger in his court to mart
As in a Romish stew, and to expound
His beastly mind to us, he hath a court
He little cares for, and a daughter who
He not respects at all. What, ho, Pisanio!
lack. O happy Leonatus ! I may say :
The credit that thy lady hath of thee [ness
Deserves thy trust ; and thy most perfect good-
Her assur'd credit ! Blessed live you long !
A lady to the worthiest sir that ever
Country call'd his ! and you his mistress, only
For the most worthiest fit! Give me your
pardon.
I have spoke this to know if your affiance
Were deeply rooted ; and shall make your lord
That which he is new o'er: and he is one
The truest manner'd ; such a holy witch
That he enchants societies unto him ;
Half all men's hearts are his.
Imo. You make amends.
lack. He sits 'mongst men like a descended
god:
He hath a kind of honour sets him off
More than a mortal seeming. Be not angry,
Most mighty princess, that I have adventur d
To try your taking of a false report ; which hath
Honoured with confirmation your great judgment
In the election of a sir so rare, [him
Which you know cannot err: the love I bear
Made me to fan you thus ; but the gods made
you, [don.
Unlike all others, chaffless. Pray, your par-
Into. All 's well, sir : take my power i' the
court for yours. [got
loch. My humble thanks. I had almost for-
To entreat your grace but in a small request,
And yet of moment too, for it concerns
Your lord, myself, and other noble friends,
Are partners in the business.
Into. Pray, what is 't ?
loch. Some dozen Romans of us, and your
lord, [sums
The best feather of our wing, have mingled
To buy a present for the emperor ;
Which I, the factor for the rest, have done
In France : 'tis plate of rare device, and jewels
Of rich and exquisite form ; their values great ;
And I am something curious, being strange
To have them in safe stowage : may it please you
To take them in protection?
Imo. Willingly ;
And pawn mine honour for their safety : since
My lord hath interest in them, I will keep them
In my bedchamber.
lack. They are in a trunk,
Attended by my men : I will make bold
To send them to you only for this night ;
I must aboard to-morrow.
Imo. O, no, no. [word
loch. Yes, I beseech; or I shall short my
By length'ning my return. From Gallia
I cross'd the seas on purpose and on promise
To see your grace.
Imo. I thank you for your pains :
But not away to-morrow !
loch. O, I must, madam :
Therefore I shall beseech you, if you please
To greet your lord with writing, do't to-night:
I have outstood my time ; which is material
To the tender of our present
938
CYMBELINE.
[ACT n.
Into. I will write.
Send your trunk to me ; it shall safe be kept
And truly yielded you. You 're very welcome.
{Exeunt.
ACT ii.
SCENE I. BRITAIN. Court before CYM-
BELINE'S Palace.
Enter CLOTEN and two Lords.
Clo. Was there ever man had such luck ! when
I kissed the jack, upon an up-cast to be hit
away ! I had a hundred pound on 't : and then
a whoreson jackanapes must take me up for
swearing ; as if I borrowed mine oaths of him,
and might not spend them at my pleasure.
1 Lord. What got he by that? You have
broke his pate with your bowl.
2 Lord. [Aside.] If his wit had been like
him that broke it, it would have run all out.
Clo. When a gentleman is disposed to swear,
it is not for any standers-by to curtail his oaths,
ha?
2 Lord. No, my lord ; [aside] nor crop the
ears of them.
Clo. Whoreson dog! I give him satisfac-
tion? Would he had been one of my rank !
2 Lord. [Aside.] To have smelt like a fool.
Clo. I am not vexed more at anything in the
earth, a pox on't! I had rather not be so
noble as I am; they dare not fight with me,
because of the queen my mother : every jack-
slave hath his belly full of fighting, and I must
go up and down like a cock that nobody can
match.
2 Lord. [Aside.] You are cock and capon too ;
and you crow, cock, with your comb on.
Clo. Sayest thou?
1 Lord. It is not fit your lordship should
undertake every companion that you give offence
to
Clo. No, I know that: but it is fit I should
commit offence to my inferiors.
2 Lord. Ay, it is fit for your lordship only.
Clo. Why, so I say.
1 Lord. Did you hear of a stranger that 's come
to court to-night?
Clo. A stranger, and I not know on 't !
2 Lord. [Aside.] He's a strange fellow him-
self, and knows it not. v\i 1
I Lord. There's an Italian come; and, 'tis
thought, one of Leonatus' friends.
Clo. Leonatus ! a banished rascal ; and he 's
another, whatsoever he be. Who told you of
this stranger?
I Lord. One of your lordship's pages.
Clo. Is it fit I went to look upon him? Is
there no derogation in 't.
1 Lord. You cannot derogate, my lord.
Clo. Not easily, I think.
2 Lord. [Aside.] You are a fool granted;
therefore your issues, being foolish, do not
derogate.
Clo. Come, I '11 go see this Italian : what I
have lost to-day at bowls I '11 win to-night of
him. Come, go.
2 Lord. I '11 attend your lordship.
[Exeunt CLOTEN and first Lord.
That such a crafty devil as is his mother
Should yield the world this ass ! a woman that
Bears all down with her brain ; and this her son
Cannot take two from twenty, for his heart,
And leave eighteen. Alas, poor princess,
Thou divine Imogen, what thou endur'st,
Betwixt a father by thy stepdame govern'd:
A mother hourly coining plots ; a wooer
More hateful than the foul expulsion is
Of thy dear husband, than that horrid act
Of the divorce he 'd make ! The heavens hold
firm
The walls of thy dear honour ; keep unshak'd
That temple, thy fair mind ; that thou mayst
stand
To enjoy thy banish'd lord and this great land !
[Exit.
SCENE II. BRITAIN. IMOGEN'S Bed-
chamber ; in one part of it a Trunk.
IMOGEN in bed reading; a Lady attending.
Imo. Who's there? my woman Helen?
Lady. Please you, madam.
Imo. What hour is it?
Lady. Almost midnight, madam.
Imo. I have read three hours, then: mine
eyes are weak :
Fold down the leaf where I have left: to bed:
Take not away the taper, leave it burning;
And if thou canst awake by four o' the clock,
I pr'ythee, call me. Sleep hath seiz'd me
wholly. [Exit Lady.
To your protection I commend me, gods !
From fairies and the tempters of the night
Guard me, beseech ye !
[Sleeps. IACHIMO comes from the trunk.
lack. The crickets sing, and man's o'er-
labour'd sense
Repairs itself by rest. Our Tarquin thus
Did softly press the rushes ere he waken'd
The chastity he wounded. Cytherea,
How bravely thou becom'st thy bed ! fresh lily I
And whiter than the sheets ! That I might touch \
But kiss ; one kiss ! Rubies unparagon'd,
SCENE III.]
CYMBELINE.
939
How dearly they do 't I 'Tis her breathing that
Perfumes the chamber thus: the flame o' the
taper
Bows toward her, and would underpeepher lids,
To see the enclosed lights, now canopied
Under these windows, white and azure, lac'd
With blue of heaven's own tinct. But my
design
To note the chamber : I will write all down :
Such and such pictures; there the window:
such
The adornment of her bed ; the arras, figures,
Why, such and such ; and the contents o' the
story,
Ah, but some natural notes about her body
Above ten thousand meaner movables
Would testify, to enrich mine inventory.
O sleep, thou ape of death, lie dull upon her!
And be her sense but as a monument,
Thus in a chapel lying ! Come off, come off;
[ Taking off her bracelet.
As slippery as the Gordian knot was hard !
'Tis mine ; and this will witness outwardly,
As strongly as the conscience does within,
To the madding of her lord. On her left breast
A mole cinque-spotted, like the crimson drops
I' the bottom of a cowslip. Here 's a voucher
Stronger than ever law could make : this secret
Will force him think I have pick'd the lock,
and ta'en [what end?
The treasure of her honour. No more. To
Why should I write this down, that 's riveted,
Screw'd to my memory? She hath been read-
ing late
The tale of Tereus ; here the leaf's turnM down
Where Philomel gave up. I have enough:
To the trunk again, and shut the spring of it.
Swift, swift, you dragons of the night, that
dawning
May bare the raven's eye ! I lodge in fear ;
Though this a heavenly angel, hell is here.
[Clock strikes.
One, two, three, Time, time !
[Goes into the trunk. Scene closes.
SCENE III. BRITAIN. An Ante-chamber
adjoining IMOGEN'S Apartment.
Enter CLOTEN and Lords.
I Lord. Your lordship is the most patient
man in loss, the most coldest that ever turned
up ace.
Clo. It would make any man cold to lose.
I Lord. But not every man patient after the
noble temper of your lordship. You are most
hot and furious when you win.
Clo. Winning will put any man into courage.
If I could get this foolish Imogen, I should
have gold enough. It 's almost morning, is 't
not?
1 Lord. Day, my lord.
Clo. I would this music would come : I am
advised to give her music o' mornings; they
say it will penetrate.
Enter Musicians.
Come on ; tune : if you can penetrate her with
your fingering, so; we'll try with tongue too:
if none will do, let her remain; but I '11 never
give o'er. First, a very excellent good-con-
ceited thing ; after a wonderful sweet air, with
admirable rich words to it, and then let her
consider.
SONG.
Hark, hark I the lark at heaven's gate sings,
And Phoebus 'gins arise,
His steeds to water at those springs
On chalic'd flowers that lies ;
And winking Mary-buds begin
To ope their golden eyes ;
With everything that pretty is :
My lady sweet, arise ;
Arise, arise !
So, get you gone. If this penetrate, I will con-
sider your music the better : if it do not, it is a
vice in her ears ; which horse-hairs and calves'
guts, nor the voice of unpaved eunuch to boot,
can never amend. [Exeunt Musicians.
2 Lord. Here comes the king.
Clo. I am glad I was up so late ; for that 's
the reason I was up so early : he cannot choose
but take this service I have done fatherly.
Enter CYMBELINE and QUEEN.
Good-morrow to your majesty and to my
gracious mother. [daughter?
Cym. Attend you here the door of our stern
Will she not forth?
Clo. I have assailed her with music, but she
vouchsafes no notice.
Cym. The exile of her minion is too new ;
She hath not yet forgot him : some more time
Must wear the print of his remembrance out,
And then she 's yours.
Queen. You are most bound to the king,
Who lets go by no vantages that may
Prefer you to his daughter. Frame yourself
To orderly solicits, and be friended
With aptness of the season ; make denials
Increase your services ; so seem as if
You were inspir'd to do those duties which
You tender to her ; that you in all obey her,
Save when command to your dismission tends,
And therein you are senseless.
Clo. Senseless ! not so.
940
CYMBELINE.
[ACT ii.
Enter a Messenger.
Mess. So like you, sir, ambassadors from
Rome;
The one is Caius Lucius.
Cynt. A worthy fellow.
Albeit he comes on angry purpose now ;
But that 's no fault of his : we must receive him
According to the honour of his sender ; [us,
And towards himself, his goodness forespent on
We must extend our notice. Our dear son,
When you have given good-morning to your
mistress,
Attend the queen and us; we shall have need
To employ you towards this Roman. Come,
our queen.
[Exeunt CYM. , QUEEN, Lords, and Mess.
Clo. If she be up, I '11 speak with her ; if not,
Let her lie still and dream. By your leave,
ho ! {.Knocks.
I know her women are about her: what
If I do line one of their hands? 'Tis gold
Which buys admittance ; oft it doth ; yea, and
makes
Diana's rangers false themselves, yield up
Their deer to the stand o' the stealer; and 'tis
gold [thief;
Which makes the true man kill'd and saves the
Nay, sometimes hangs both thief and true man :
what
Can it not do and undo? I will make
One of her women lawyer to me ; for
I yet not understand the case myself.
By your leave. [Knocks.
Enter a Lady.
Lady. Who's there that knocks?
Clo. A gentleman.
Lady. No more?
Clo. Yes, and a gentlewoman's son.
Lady. That 's more
Than some, whose tailors are as dear as yours,
Can justly boast of. What 's your lordship's
pleasure?
Clo. Your lady's person : is she ready?
Lady. Ay,
To keep her chamber.
Clo. There is gold for you ; sell me your good
report. [of you
Lady. How 1 my good name ? or to report
What I shall think is good? The princess !
Enter IMOGEN.
Clo. Good -morrow, fairest: sister, your sweet
hand. [much pains
Imo. Good-morrow, sir. You lay out too
For purchasing but trouble : the thanks I give
Is telling you that I am poor of thanks,
And scarce can spare them.
Clo. Still, I swear I love you.
Imo. Ifyou but saidso, 'twere asdeep with me:
If you swear still, your recompense is still
That I regard it not.
Clo. This is no answer.
Imo. But that you shall not say I yield, being
silent, [faith,
I would not speak. I pray you, spare me :
I shall unfold equal discourtesy [knowing
To your best kindness : one of your great
Should learn, being taught, forbearance.
Clo. To leave you in your madness 'twere
my sin :
I will not.
Imo. Fools are not mad folks.
Clo. Do you call me fool ?
Imo. As I am mad, I do :
If you '11 be patient I '11 no more be mad ;
That cures us both. I am much sorry, sir,
You put me to forget a lady's manners
By being so verbal : and learn now, for all,
That I, which knowmy heart, dohere pronounce,
By the very truth of it, I care not for you ;
And am so near the lack of charity,
To accuse myself, I hate youj which I had
rather
You felt than make 't my boast.
Clo. You sin against
Obedience, which you owe your father. For
The contract you pretend with that base
wretch,
One bred of alms and foster'd with cold dishes,
With scraps o' the court, it is no contract,
none :
And though it be allow'd in meaner parties,
Yet who than he more mean? to knit their
souls,
On whom there is no more dependency
But brats and beggary, in self-figur'd knot ;
Yet you are curb'd from that enlargement by
The consequence o' the crown ; and must not soil
The precious note of it with a base slave,
A hilding for a livery, a squire's cloth,
A pantler, not so eminent.
Imo. Profane fellow !
Wert thou the son of Jupiter, and no more
But what thou art besides, thou wert too base
To be his groom : thou wert dignified enough,
Even to the point of envy, if 'twere made
Comparative* for your virtues, to be styl'd
The under-hangman of his kingdom ; and hated
For being preferr'd so well.
Clo. The south fog rot him !
Imo. He never can meet more mischance than
SCENE IV.]
CYMBELINE.
To be but nam'd of thee. His meanest garment,
That ever hath but clipp'd his body, is dearer
In my respect than all the hairs above thee,
Were they all made such men.
Enter PISANIO.
How now, Pisanio !
Clo. His garment ! Now, the devil,
Imo. To Dorothy my woman hie thee pre-
sently,
Clo. His garment !
Imo. I am sprited with a fool ;
Frighted, and anger'd worse. Go, bid my
woman
Search for a jewel that too casually [me
Hath left mine arm : it was thy master's ; shrew
If I would lose it for a revenue
Of any king's in Europe. I do think
I saw 't this morning : confident I am
Last night 'twas on mine arm ; I kiss'd it :
I hope it be not gone to tell my lord
That I kiss aught but he.
Pis. 'Twill not be lost.
Imo. I hope so : go and search.
[Exit PISANIO.
Clo. You have abus'd me.
His meanest garment ?
Imo. Ay, I said so, sir :
If you will make 't an action, call witness to 't.
Clo. I will inform your father.
Into. Your mother too :
She 's my good lady; and will conceive, I hope,
But the worse of me. So I leave you, sir,
To the worst of discontent. [Exit.
Clo. I '11 be revenged :
His meanest garment ! Well. [Exit.
SCENE IV. ROME. An Apartment in
PHILARIO'S House.
Enter POSTHUMUS and PHILARIO.
Post. Fear it not, sir : I would I were so sure
To win the king as I am bold her honour
Will remain hers.
Phi. What means do you make to him ?
Post. Not any ; but abide the change of time ;
Quake in the present winter's state, and wish
That warmer days would come : in these sear'd
hopes
I barely gratify your love ; they failing,
I must die much your debtor.
Phi. Your very goodness and your company
O'erpays all I can do. By this your king
Hath heard of great Augustus : Caius Lucius
Will do 's commission throughly : and I think
He '11 grant the tribute, send the arrearages,
Or look upon our Romans, whose remembrance
is yet fresh in their grief.
Post. I do believe,
Statist though I am none, nor like to be,
That this will prove a war ; and you shall hear
The legions now in Gallia sooner landed
In our not-fearing Britain than have tidings
Of any penny tribute paid. Our countrymen
Are men more ordered than when Julius Caesar
Smil'd at their lack of skill, but found their
courage
Worthy his frowning at : their discipline,
Now mingled with their courage, will make
known
To their approvers they are people such
That mend upon the world.
Phi. See ! lachimo !
Enter IACHIMO.
Post. The swiftest harts have posted you by
land ;
And winds of all the corners kiss'd your sails,
To make your vessel nimble.
Phi. Welcome, sir.
Post. \ hope the briefness of your answer made
The speediness of your return.
loch. Your lady
Is one of the fairest that I have look'd upon.
Post. And therewithal the best; or let her
beauty
Look through a casement to allure false hearts,
And be false with them.
lach. Here are letters for you.
Post. Their tenor good, I trust.
lack. 'Tis very like.
Phi. Was Caius Lucius in the Britain court
When you were there ?
loch. He was expected then,
But not approach'd.
Post. All is well yet.
Sparkles this stone as it was wont? or is't not
Too dull for your good wearing?
loch. If I had lost it
I should have lost the worth of it in gold.
I '11 make a journey twice as far, to enjoy
A second night of such sweet shortness which
Was mine in Britain ; for the ring is won.
Post. The stone 's too hard to come by.
lack. Not a whit,
Your lady being so easy.
Post. Make not, sir,
Your loss your sport : I hope you know that we
Must not continue friends.
lach. Good sir, we must,
If you keep covenant. Had I not brought
The knowledge of your mistress home, I grant
We were to question further : but I now
942
CYMBEL1NE.
[ACT ir.
Profess myself the winner of her honour,
Together with your ring ; and not the wronger
Of her or you, having proceeded but
By both your wills.
Post. If you can make 't apparent
That you have tasted her in bed, my hand
And ring is yours : if not, the foul opinion
You had of her pure honour gains or loses
Your sword or mine, or masterless leaves both
To who shall find them.
lack. Sir, my circumstances,
Being so near the truth as I will make them,
Must first induce you to believe : whose strength
I will confirm with oath ; which I doubt not
You'll give me leave to spare when you shall find
You need it not.
Post. Proceed.
lack. First, her bedchamber,
Where, I confess, I slept not ; but profess
Had that was well worth watching, it was
hang'd
With tapestry of silk and silver ; the story
Proud Cleopatra, when she met her Roman,
And Cydnus swell'd above the banks, or for
The press of boats or pride : a piece of work
So bravely done, so rich, that it did strive
In workmanship and value ; which I wonder'd
Could be so rarely and exactly wrought,
Since the true life on 't was,
Post. f This is true ;
And this you might have heard of here, by me
Or by some other.
lack. More particulars
Must justify my knowledge.
Post. So they must,
Or do your honour injury.
lack. The chimney
Is south the chamber ; and the chimney-piece
Chaste Dian bathing : never saw I figures
So likely to report themselves : the cutter
Was as another nature, dumb j outwent her,
Motion and breath left out.
Post. This is a thing
Which you might from relation likewise reap ;
Being, as it is, much spoke of.
lack. The roof o' the chamber
With golden cherubins is fretted: her and-
irons,
I had forgot them, were two winking Cupids
Of silver, each on one foot standing, nicely
Depending on their brands.
Post. This is her honour !
Let it be granted you have seen all this, and
praise
Be given to your remembrance, the description
Of what is in her chamber nothing saves
The wager you have laid.
loch* Then, if you can,
[Pulling out the bracelet,
Be pale ; I beg but leave to air this jewel ; see !
And now 'tis up again : it must be married
To that your diamond ; I ; 11 keep them.
Post. Jove !
Once more let me behold it : is it that
Which I left with her ?
Jack. Sir, I thank her, that :
She stripped it from her arm ; I see her yet ;
Her pretty action did outsell her gift,
And yet enrich'd it too : she gave it me, and said
She priz'd it once.
Post. Maybe she pluck'd it off
To send it me.
lack. She writes so to you ? doth she ?
Post. O, no, no, no ! 'tis true. Here, take
this too ; [Gives the ring.
It is a basilisk unto mine eye,
Kills me to look on't. Let there be no honour
Where there is beauty ; truth where semblance ;
love
Where there 's anotherman : the vows of women
Of no more bondage be to where they are made
Than they are to their virtues; which is
nothing.
O, above measure false !
Phi. Have patience, sir,
And take your ring again ; 'tis not yet won :
It may be probable she lost it ; or,
Who knows if one o' her women, being corrupted,
Hath stolen it from her ?
Post. Very true ;
And so I hope he came by't. Back my ring :
Render to me some corporal sign about her,
More evident than this ; for this was stolen.
loch. By Jupiter, I had it from her arm.
Post. Hark you, he swears ; by Jupiter he
swears. [sure
'Tis true, nay, keep the ring, 'tis true : I am
She would not lose it : her attendants are
All sworn and honourable : they induc'd to
steal it !
And by a stranger ! No, he hath enjoyed her :
The cognizance of her incontinency
Is this, she hath bought the name of whore
thus dearly.
There, take thy hire ; and all the fiends of hell
Divide themselves between you !
Phi. Sir, be patient :
This is not strong enough to be believ'd
Of one persuaded well of,
Post. Never talk on 't ;
She hath been colted by him.
loch. If you seek
For further satisfying, under her breast,
Worthy the pressing, lies a mole, right proud
SCENE V.]
CYMBELINE.
943
Of that most delicate lodging : by my life,
I kiss'd it ; and it gave me present hunger
To feed again, though full. You do remember
This stain upon her ?
Post. Ay, and it doth confirm
Another stain, as big as hell can hold,
Were there no more but it.
loch. Will you hear more ?
Post. Spare your arithmetic : never count the
turns ;
Once, and a million !
Jack. I'll be sworn,
Post. No swearing.
If you will swear you have not done 't, you lie ;
And I will kill thee if thou dost deny
Thou 'st made me cuckold.
loch. I'll deny nothing.
Post. O, that I had her here to tear her limb-
meal !
I will go there and do 't ; i' the court ; before
Her father : I '11 do something, [Exit.
Phi. Quite besides
The government of patience ! You have won :
Let 's follow him, and pervert the present wrath
He hath against himself.
lack. With all my heart.
[Exeunt.
SCENE V. ROME. Another Room in
PHILARIO'S House.
Enter POSTHUMUS.
Post. Is there no way for men to be, but
women
Must be half- workers ? We are all bastards ;
And that most venerable man which I
Did call my father was I know not where
When I was stamp'd ; some coiner with his tools
Made me a counterfeit : yet my mother seem'd
The Dian of that time : so doth my wife
The nonpareil of this. O, vengeance, ven-
geance !
Me of my lawful pleasure she restrain'd,
And pray'd me oft forbearance : did it with
A pudency so rosy, the sweet view on 't
Might well have warm'd old Saturn ; that I
thought her
As chaste as unsunn'd snow. O, all the devils !
This yellow lachimo in an hour, was 't not ?
Or less, at first ? Perchance he spoke not,
but,
Like a full-acorn'd boar, a German one,
Cried O I and mounted ; found no opposition
But what he look'd for should oppose, and she
Should from encounter guard. Could I find out
The woman's part in me ! For there 's no
motion
That tends to vice in man but I affirm
It is the woman's part : be it lying, note it,
The woman's ; flattering, hers ; deceiving,
hers ; [hers ;
Lust and rank thoughts, hers, hers ; revenges,
Ambitions, covetings, change of prides, disdain,
Nice longing, slanders, mutability,
AH faults that have a name, nay, that hell
knows,
Why, hers, in part or all ; but rather all ;
For ev'n to vice
They are not constant, but are changing still
One vice, but of a minute old, for one
Not half so old as that. I'll write against them,
Detest them, curse them. Yet 'tis greater skill
In a true hate to pray they have their will :
The very devils cannot plague them better.
[Exit.
ACT III.
SCENE I. BRITAIN. A Room of State in
CYMBELINE'S Palace.
Enter, at one side, CYMBELINE, QUEEN,
CLOTEN, and Lords; at the other CAIUS
Lucius and Attendants.
Cym. Now say, what would Augustus Caesar
with us ? [brance yet
Luc. When Julius Caesar, whose remem-
Lives in men's eyes, and will to ears and tongues
Be theme and hearing ever, was in this Britain,
And conquer'd it, Cassibelan, thine uncle,
Famous in Caesar's praises no whit less
Than in his feats deserving it, for him
And his succession granted Rome a tribute
Yearly three thousand pounds ; which by thee
lately
Is left untender'd.
Queen. And, to kill the marvel,
Shall be so ever.
Clo. There be many Caesars
Ere such another Julius. Britain is
A world by itself ; and we will nothing pay
For wearing our own noses.
Qiieen. That opportunity,
Which then they had to take from % to resume
We have again. Remember, sir, my liege,
The kings your ancestors ; together with
The natural bravery of your isle, which stands
As Neptune's park, ribbed and paled in
With rocks unscaleable and roaring waters ;
With sands that will not bear your enemies'
boats, [conquest
But suck them up to the top-mast. A kind of
Caesar made here ; but made not here his brag
Of came, and saw, and overcame: with shame,
944
CYMBELINE.
[ACT in.
The first that ever touch'd him, he was carried
From off our coast, twice beaten ; and his ship-
ping,
Poor ignorant baubles ! on our terrible seas,
Like egg-shells mov'd upon their surges, crack'd
As easily 'gainst our rocks : for joy whereof
The fam'd Cassibelan, who was once at point,
O, giglot fortune ! to master Caesar's sword,
Made Lud's town with rejoicing fires bright
And Britons strut with courage.
Clo. Come, there's no more tribute to be
paid : our kingdom is stronger than it was at
that time; and, as I said, there is no more such
Caesars : other of them may have crooked
noses ; but to owe such straight arms, none.
Cym. Son, let your mother end.
Clo. We have yet many among us can gripe
as hard as Cassibelan : I do not say I am one ;
but I have a hand. Why tribute ? why should
we pay tribute ? If Caesar can hide the sun
from us with a blanket, or put the moon in his
pocket, we will pay him tribute for light ; else,
sir, no more tribute, pray you now.
Cym. You must know,
Till the^ injurious Romans did extort
This tribute from us, we were free : Caesar's
ambition,
Which swell'd so much that it did almost stretch
The sides o' the world, against all colour, here
Did put the yoke upon 's ; which to shake off
Becomes a warlike people, whom we reckon
Ourselves to be.
Clo. We do.
Cym. Say then to Caesar,
Our ancestor was that Mulmutius which
Ordain'd our laws, whose use the sword of
Caesar [franchise
Hath too much mangled ; whose repair and
Shall, by the power we hold, be our good deed,
Though Rome be therefore angry : Mulrautius
made our laws,
Who was the first of Britain which did put
His brows within a golden crown, and call'd
Himself a king.
Luc. I am sorry, Cymbeline,
That I am to pronounce Augustus Caesar,
Caesar, that hath more kings his servants than
Thyself domestic officers, thine enemy :
Receive it from me, then : War and confusion
In Caesar's name pronounce I 'gainst thee : look
For fury not to be resisted. Thus defied,
I thank thee for myself.
Cym. Thou art welcome, Caius.
Thy Caesar knighted me ; my youth I spent
Much under him ; of him I gather'd honour ;
Which he to seek of me again, perforce,
Behoves me keep at utterance. I am perfect
That the Pannonians and Dalmatians for
Their liberties are now in arms, a precedent
Which not to read would show the Britons cold :
So Caesar shall not find them.
Luc. Let proof speak.
Clo. His majesty bids you welcome. Make
pastime with us a day or two, or longer : if you
seek us afterwards in other terms, you shall find
us in our salt-water girdle : if you beat us out
of it, it is yours ; if you fall in the adventure,
our crows shall fare the better for you ; and
there 's an end.
Luc. So, sir. [mine:
Cym. I know your master's pleasure, and he
All the remain is, welcome. \Exeunt.
SCENE II. BRITAIN. Another Room in the
Palace.
Enter PISANIO with a letter.
Pis. How ! of adultery ? Wherefore write
you not
What monster 's her accuser ? Leonatus !
master ! what a strange infection
Is fallen into thy earl What false Italian,
As poisonous tongu'd as handed, hath pre-
vail'd
On thy too ready hearing ? Disloyal ! No :
She 's punish'd for her truth ; and undergoes,
More goddess-like than wife-like, such assaults
As would take in some virtue. O my master !
Thy mind to her is now as low as were
Thy fortunes. How ! that I should murder her?
Upon the love, and truth, and vows which I
Have made to thy command? I, her? her
blood ?
If it be so to do good service, never
Let me be counted serviceable. I Tow look I,
That I should seem to lack humanity
So much as this fact comes to? {Reading.]
Do *t : the letter
That I have sent her, by her own command
Shall give thee opportunity : O damn'd paper !
Black as the ink that 's on thee ! Senseless
bauble,
Art thou a fedary for this act, and look'st
So virgin-like without ? Lo, here she comes.
1 am ignorant in what I am commanded.
Enter IMOGEN.
Imo. How now, Pisanio !
Pis. Madam, here is a letter from my lord.
Imo. Who? thy loru? that is my lord,
Leonatus ?
O, learn'd indeed were thac astronomer
That knew the stars as I his characters ;
He 'd lay the future open. You good gods,
SCFtfS II.]
CYMBELINE.
945
Let what is here contain'd relish of love,
Of my lord's heallh, of his content, yet not
That we two are asunder, let that grieve him;
Some griefs are med'cinable ; that is one of
them,
For it doth physic love ; of his content [be
All but in that ! Good wax, thy leave: bless'd
You bees that make these locks of counsel !
Lovers
And men ia dangerous bonds pray not alike :
Though forfeiters you cast in prison, yet
You clasp young Cupid's tables. Good news,
gods ! [Reads.
Justice, and your father's wrath, should he
fake me in his dominion , could not be so cruel
to me, as you, O the dearest of creatures, would
even renew me with your eyes. Take notice
that I am in Cambria^ at Milford-Haven .
what your own love will, out of this, advise you,
follow. So he wishes you all happiness that
remains loyal to his vow, and your, increasing
in love, LEONATUS POSTHUMUS.
O for a horse with wings! Hear'st thou,
Pisanio ?
He is at Milford-Haven : read, and tell me
How far 3 tis thither. If one of mean affairs
May plod it in a week, why may not I
Glide thither in a day ? Then, true Pisanio,
Who long'st, like me, to see thy lord ; who
long'st
O, let rne 'bate but not like me ; yet long'st,
But in a fainter kind : O, not like me ;
For mine's beyond beyond, say, and speak
thick,
Love's councillor should fill the bores of hearing
To the smothering of the sense, how far it is
To this same blessed Milford : and, by the
way,
Tell me how Wales was made so happy as
To inherit such a haven : but, first of all,
How we may steal from hence ; and for the gap
That we shall make in time, from our hence-
going [hence :
And our return, to excuse. But first, how get
Why should excuse be born or e'er begot ?
We '11 talk of that hereafter. Pr'ythee, speak,
How many score of miles may we well ride
'Twixt hour and hour ?
Pis. One score 'twixt sun and sun,
Madam, 's enough for you, and too much too.
Into. Why, one that rode to 's execution, man,
Could never go so slow : I have heard of riding
wagers,
Where horses have been nimbler than the sands
That run i' the clock's behalf; but this is
foolery :
Go bid my woman feign a sickness ; say
She'll home to her father: and provide me
presently
A riding suit no costlier than would fit
A franklin's housewife.
Pis. Madam, you 're best consider.
Inw. I see before me, man, nor here, nor here,
Nor what ensues ; but have a fog in them
That I cannot look through. Away, 1 prithee;
Do as 1 bid thee : there's no more to say ;
Accessible is none but Milford way. {Exeunt.
SCENE III. WALES. A mountainous Country
with a Cave,
terBELARius, GUIDERIUS, and ARVIRAGUS.
Bel. A goodly day not to keep house, with
such [gate
Whose roof 's as low as ours ! Stoop, boys : this
Instructs you how to adore the heavens, and
bows you
To a morning's holy office : the gates of monarchs
Are arch'd so high that giants may jet through,
And keep their impious turbans on, without
Good-morrow to the sun. Hail, thou fair
heaven !
We house i' the rock, yet use thee not so hardly
As prouder livers do.
Gut. Hail, heaven !
Arv, Hail, heaven !
Bel. Now for our mountain sport : up to
yond hill,
Your legs aie young; I'll tread these flats.
Consider,
When you above perr 2ive me like a crow,
That it is place which lessens and sets off:
And you may then revolve what tales I have
told you
Of courts, of princes, of the tricks in war :
This service is not service so being done,
But being so allow'd : to apprehend thus
Draws us a profit from all things we see ;
And often, to our comfort, shall we find
The sharded beetle in a safer hold
Than is the full-wing'd eagle. O, this life
Is nobler than attending for a check,
Richer than doing nothing for a bauble,
Prouder than rustling in unpaid-for silk :
Such gain the cap of him that makes 'em fine,
Yet keeps his book uncross'd : no life to ours.
Gui. Out of your proof you speak : we, poor
unfledg'd, [know not
Have never wing'd from view o' the nest ; nor
What air 's from home. Haply this life is best,
If quiet life be best ; sweeter to you
That have a sharper known ; well corresponding
With your stiff age : but unto us it is
A cell of ignorance ; travelling abed ;
CYMBELINE.
[ACT in.
A prison for a debtor, that not dares
To stride a limit.
Arv. What should we speak of
When we are old as you ? when we shall hear
The rain and wind beat dark December, how,
In this our pinching cave, shall we discourse
The freezing hours away ? We have seen nothing :
We are beastly ; subtle as the fox for prey ;
Like warlike as the wolf for what we eat :
Our valour is to chase what flies ; our cage
We make a quire, as doth the prison'd bird,
And sing our bondage freely.
Bel. How you speak !
Did you but know the city's usuries,
And felt them knowingly : the art o' the court,
As hard to leave as keep ; whose top to climb
Is certain falling, or so slippery that
The fear 's as bad as falling : the toil o' the war,
A pain that only seems to seek out danger
I' the name of fame and honour ; which dies i'
the search,
And hath as oft a slanderous epitaph
As record of fair act ; nay, many times
Doth ill deserve by doing well ; what 's worse,
Must court'sy at the censure. O, boys, this
story
The world may read in me : my body 's mark'd
With Roman swords ; and my report was once
First with the best of note : Cymbeline lov'd me ;
And when a soldier was the theme, my name
Was not far off; then was I as a tree [night
Whose boughs did bend with fruit : but in one
A storm or robbery, call it what you will,
Shook down my mellow hangings, nay, my
leaves,
And left me bare to weather.
Gui. Uncertain favour?
Bel. My fault being nothing, as I have told
you oft, [vail'd
But that two villains, whose false oaths pre-
Before my perfect honour, swore to Cymbeline
I was confederate with the Romans : so
Follow'd my banishment ; and this twenty years
This rock and these demesnes have been my
world :
Where I have liv'd at honest freedom ; paid
More pious debts to heaven than in all
The fore-end of my time. But up to the
mountains !
This is not hunters' language. He that strikes
The venison first shall be the lord o' the feast ;
To him the other two shall minister ;
And we will fear no poison, which attends
In place of greater state. I '11 meet you in the
valleys. {Exeunt GUI. and ARV.
How hard it is to hide the sparks of nature !
These boys know little they are sons to the king ;
Nor Cymbeline dreams that they are alive.
They think they are mine : and though train'd
up thus meanly [hit
I' the cave wherein they bow, their thoughts do
The roofs of palaces ; and nature prompts them,
In simple and low things, to prince it much
Beyond the trick of others. This Polydore,
The heir of Cymbeline and Britain, who
The king his father cail'd Guiderius, Jove !
When on my three-foot stool I sit, and tell
The warlike feats I have done, his spirits fly out
Into my story : say, Thus mine enemy fell,
And thus I set my foot on 'j neck; even then
The princely blood flows in his cheek, he sweats,
Strains his young nerves, and puts himself in
posture [wal,
That acts my words. The younger brother, Cad-
Once Arviragus, in as like a figure
Strikes life into my speech, and shows much more
Hisown conceiving. Hark, thegameisrous'd!
O Cymbeline ! heaven and my conscience knows
Thou didst unjustly banish me : whereon,
At three and two years old, I stole these babes ;
Thinking to bar thee of succession, as
Thou reft'st me of my lands. Euriphile,
Thou wast their nurse ; they took thee for their
mother,
And every day do honour to her grave :
Myself, Belarius, that am Morgan cail'd,
They take for natural father. The game is up.
{Exit.
SCENE IV. Wales, near Mi If ord- Haven.
Enter PISANIO and IMOGEN.
Imo. Thou told'st me, when we came from
horse, the place
Was near at hand. Ne'er long'd my mother so
To see me first as I have now. Pisanio J Man !
Where is Posthumus ? What is in thy mind
That makes thee stare thus ? Wherefore breaks
that sigh
From the inward of thee ? One but painted thus
Would be interpreted a thing perplex'd
Beyond self-explication : put thyself
Into a 'haviour of less fear, ere wildness
Vanquish my steadier senses. What's the
matter ?
Why tender'st thou that paper to me, with
A look untender ? If 't be summer news,
Smile to 't before ; if winterly, thou need'st
But keep that countenance still. My husband's
hand!
That drug-damn'd Italy hath out-craftied him,
And he's at some hard point Speak, man;
thy tongue
SCENE IV.]
CYMBELINE.
May take off some extremity, which to read
Would be even mortal to me.
Pis. Please you, read ;
And you shall find me, wretched man, a thing
The most disdain'd of fortune.
Imo. [Reads.} Thy mistress, Pisanio, hath
played the strumpet in my bed ; the testimonies
"whereof lie bleeding in me. I speak not otit of
weak surmises ; but from proof as strong as my
grief and as certain as 1 expect my revenge.
That part thou, Pisanio, mtist act for me, if thy
faith be not tainted with the breach of hers. Let
thine own hands take away her life ; I shall give
thee opportunity at Milford- Haven: she hath my
letter for the -purpose : where, if thott fear to
strike, and to make me certain it is done, thou
art the pander to her dishonour, and equally to
me disloyal.
Pis. What, shall I need to draw my sword ?
the paper
Hath cut her throat already. No, 'tis slander ;
Whose edge is sharper than the sword ; whose
tongue
Outvenoms all the worms of Nile ; whose breath
Rides on the posting winds, and doth belie
All corners of the world: kings, queens, and
states,
Maids, matrons, nay, the secrets of the grave
This viperous slander enters. What cheer,
madam? [false?
Imo. False to his bed? What is it to be
To lie in watch there, and to think on him ?
To weep 'twixt clock and clock ? if sleep charge
nature,
To break it with a fearful dream of him,
And cry myself awake? that's false to his bed,
Is it?
Pis. Alas, good lady ! [lachimo,
Imo. I false ! Thy conscience witness :
Thou didst accuse him of incontinency ;
Thou then look'dst like a villain; now, me-
thinks,
Thy favour } s good enough. Some jay of Italy,
Whose mother was her painting, hath betray'd
him:
Poor I am stale, a garment out of fashion ;
And for I am richer than to hang by the walls
I must be ripp'd : to pieces with me ! O,
Men's vows are women's traitors ! All good
seeming,
By thy revolt, O husband, shall be thought
Put on for villany, not born where 't grows,
But worn a bait for ladies.
Pis. Good madam, hear me.
Imo. True honest men being heard, like false
vEneas, [weeping
Were, in his time, thought false : and Sinon's
Did scandal many a holy tear ; took pity
From most true wretchedness : so thou, Post-
humus,
Wilt lay the leaven on all proper men ;
Goodly and gallant shall be false and perjur'd
From thy great fail. Come, fellow, be thou
honest : [him,
Do thou thy master's bidding : when thou see'st
A little witness my obedience : look !
I draw the sword myself : take it, and hit
The innocent mansion of my love, my heart :
Fear not ; 'tis empty of all things but grief:
Thy master is not there ; who was indeed
The riches of it : do his bidding ; strike.
Thou mayst be valiant in a better cause ;
But now thou seem'st a coward.
Pisa Hence, vile instrument !
Thou shalt not damn my hand.
Imo. Why, I must die ;
And if I do not by thy hand, thou art
No servant of thy master's : against self-slaughter
There is a prohibition so divine [heart :
That cravens my weak hand. Come, here's my
Something's afore 't. Soft, soft! we'll no
defence ;
Obedient as the scabbard. What is here?
The scriptures of the loyal Leonatus
All turn'd to heresy? Away, away,
Corrupters of my faith ! you shall no more
Be stomachers to my heart. Thus may poor fools
Believe false teachers: though those that are
betray'd
Do feel the treason sharply, yet the traitor
Stands in worse case of woe.
And thou, Posthumus, that didst set up
My disobedience 'gainst the king my father,
And make me put into contempt the suits
Of princely fellows, shalt hereafter find
It is no act of common passage, but
A strain of rareness : and I grieve myself
To think, when thou shalt be disedg'd by her
That now thou tir'st on, how thy memory
Will then be pang'd by me. Pr'ythee, despatch :
The lamb entreats the butcher: where 's thy
knife?
Thou art too slow to do thy master's bidding,
When I desire it too.
Pis. O gracious lady,
Since I receiv'd command to do this business
I have not slept one wink.
Imo. Do 't, and to bed then.
Pis. I '11 wake mine eyeballs blind first.
Imo. Wherefore then
Didst undertake it ? Why hast thou abus'd
So many miles with a pretence? this place?
Mine action and thine own? our horses' labour?
The time inviting thee? the perturb'd court,
94*
CYMBELINE.
[ACT in.
For my being absent ; whereunto 1 never
Purpose return ? Why hast thou gone so far,
To be unbent when thou hast ta'en thy stand,
The elected deer before thee ?
Pis. But to win time
To lose so bad employment ; in the which
I have consider'd of a course. Good lady,
Hear me with patience.
Imo. Talk thy tongue weary: speak:
I have heard I am a strumpet ; and mine ear,
Therein false struck, can take no greater wound,
Nor tent to bottom that. But speak.
Pis. Then, madam,
I thought you would not back again.
Imo. Most like,
Bringing me here to kill me.
Pis. Not so neither :
But if I were as wise as honest, then
My purpose would prove well. It cannot be
But that my master is abus'd :
Some villain, ay, and singular in his art,
Hath done you both this cursed injury.
Imo. Some Roman courtezan.
Pis. No, on my life :
I '11 give but notice you are dead, and send him
Some bloody sign of it ; for 'tis commanded
I should do so : you shall be miss'd at court,
And that will well confirm it.
Imo. Why, good fellow,
What shall I do the while? where bide? how
live?
Or in my life what comfort when I am
Dead to my husband?
Pis. If you '11 back to the court,
Imo. No court, no father ; nor no more ado
With that harsh, noble, simple nothing,
That Cloten, whose love-suit hath been to me
As fearful as x a siege.
Pis. If not at court,
Then not in Britain must you bide.
Imo. Where then?
Hath Britain all the sun that shines? Day,
night,
Are they rot but in Britain? V the world's
volume
Our Britain seems as of it, but not in 't ;
In a great pool a swan's nest : pr'ythee, think
There 's livers out of Britain.
Pis. I am most glad
You think of other place. The ambassador,
Lucius the Roman, comes to Milford-Haven
To-morrow: now, if you could wear a mind
Dark as your fortune is, and but disguise
That which to appear itself must not yet be,
But by self danger, you should tread a course
Privy and full of view ; yea, haply, near
The residence of Posthumus, so nigh at least
That though his actions were not visible, yet
Report should render him hourly to your ear,
As truly as he moves.
Imo. O, for such means,
Though peril to my modesty, not death on 't,
I would adventure.
Pis. Well then, here 's the point :
You must forget to be a woman ; change
Command into obedience ; fear and niceness,
1 he handmaids of all women, or, more truly,
Woman its pretty self, into a waggish courage ;
Ready in gibes, quick-answer'd, saucy, and
As quarrelous as the weasel ; nay, you must .
Forget that rarest treasure of your cheek,
Exposing it, but, O, the harder heart !
Alack, no remedy ! to the greedy touch
Of common-kissing Titan ; and forget
Your laboursome and dainty trims, wherein
You made great Juno angry.
Imo. Nay, be brief;
I see into thy end, and am almost
A man already.
Pis. First, make yourself but like one.
Fore-thinking this, I have already fit,
'Tis in my cloak-bag, doublet, hat, hose, all
That answer to them: would you, in their
serving,
And with what imitation you can borrow
From youth of such a season, 'fore noble Lucius
Present yourself, desire his service, tell him
Wherein you are happy, which you '11 make
him know
If that his head have ear in music, doubtless
With joy he will embrace you ; for he 's hon-
ourable
And, doubling that, most holy. Your means
abroad
You have me, rich ; and I will never fail
Beginning nor supplyment
Imo. Thou art all the comfort
The gods will diet me with. Pr'ythee, away :
There 's more to be consider'd ; but we '11 even
All that good time will give us : this attempt
I am soldier to, and will abide it with
A prince's courage. Away, I pr'ythee.
Pis. Well, madam, we must take a short
farewell,
Lest, being miss'd, I be suspected of [tress,
Your carriage from the court. My noble mis-
Here is a box; I had it horn the queen;
What 's in 't is precious ; if you are sick at sea
Or stomach-qualm'd at land, a dram of this
Will drive away distemper. To some shade,
And fit you to your manhood : may the gods
Direct you to the best !
Imo. Amen : thank thee.
4*1011
SCENE V.j
CYMBELINE.
943
SCENE V. BRITAIN. A Room in CYM-
BELINE'S Palace.
Enter CYMBELINE, QUEEN, CLOTEN, Lucius,
and Lords.
Cym. Thus far; and so farewell.
Luc. Thanks, royal sir.
My emperor hath wrote ; I must from hence ;
And am right sorry that I must report ye
My master's enemy.
Cym. Our subjects, sir,
Will not endure his yoke ; and for ourself
To show less sovereignty than they, must needs
Appear unkinglike.
Luc. So, sir, I desire of you
A conduct over-land to Milford-Haven.
Madam, all joy befall his grace and you !
Cym. My lords, you are appointed for that
office;
'The due of honour in no point omit.
So farewell, noble Lucius.
Luc. Your hand, my lord.
Clo. Receive it friendly : but from this time
forth
I wear it as your enemy.
Luc. Sir, the event
Is yet to name the winner : fare you well.
Cym. Leave not the worthy Lucius, good my
lords,
Till he have cross'd the Severn. Happiness !
[Exeunt Lucius and Lords.
Queen. He goes hence frowning: but it
honours us
That we have given him cause.
Clo. 'Tis all the better;
Your valiant Britons have their wishes in it.
Cym. Lucius hath wrote already to the em-
peror
How it goes here. It fits us therefore ripely
Our chariots and our horsemen be in readiness :
The powers that he already hath in Gallia
Will soon be drawn to head, from whence he
moves
His war for Britain.
Queen. 'Tis not sleepy business;
But must be look'd to speedily and strongly.
Cym. Our expectation that it would be thus
Hath made us forward. But, my gentle queen,
Where is our daughter? She hath not appear'd
Before the Roman, nor to us hath tender'd
The duty of the day : she looks us like
A thing more made of malice than of duty :
We have noted it. Call her before us; for
We have been too slight in sufferance.
[Exit an Attendant.
Queen. Royal sir,
Since the exile of Posthumus, most retir'd
Hath her life been ; the cure whereof, my lord.
'Tis time must do. Beseech your majesty,
Forbear sharp speeches to her : she 's a lady
So tender of rebukes that words are strokes,
And strokes death to her.
Re-enter Attendant.
Cym. Where is she, sir? How
Can her contempt be answer'd?
Atten. Please you, sir,
Her chambers are all lock'd ; and there 's no
answer [make.
That will be given to the loud'st of noise we
Queen. My lord, when last I went to visit her,
She pray'd me to excuse her keeping close;
Whereto constrain'd by her infirmity
She should that duty leave unpaid to you
Which daily she was bound to proffer : this
She wish'd me to make known ; but our great
court
Made me to blame in memory.
Cym. Her door 's lock'd ?
Not seen of late? Grant, heavens, that which
I fear
Prove false ! [Exit.
Queen. Son, I say, follow the king, [vant,
Clo. That man of hers, Pisanio, her old ser-
I have not seen these two days.
Queen. Go, look after.
[Exit CLOTEN.
Pisanio, thou that stand'st so for Posthumus !
He hath a drug of mine ; I pray his absence
Proceed by swallowing that ; for he believes
It is a thing most precious. But for her, [her;
Where is she gone? Haply despair hath seiz'd
Or, wing'd with fervour of her love, she 's flown
To her desir'd Posthumus: gone she is
To death or to dishonour ; and my end
Can make good use of either : she being down,
I have the placing of the British crown.
Re-enter CLOTEN.
How now, my son !
Clo. 'Tis certain she is fled.
Go in and cheer the king : he rages ; none
Dare come about him.
Queen. All the better: may
This night forestall him of the coming day !
[Exit.
Clo. I love and hate her : for she 's fair and
royal, [quisite
And that she hath all courtly parts more ex-
Than lady, ladies, woman ; from every one
The best she hath, and she, of all compounded.
Outsells them all. I love her therefore: but,
Disdaining me, and throwing favours on
950
CYMBELINE.
[ACT in.
The low Posthumus, slanders so her judgment
That what's else rare is chok'd; and in that
point
I will conclude to hate her, nay, indeed,
To be reveng'd upon her. For when fools shall
Enter PISANIO.
Who is here? What, are you packing, sirrah?
Come hither : ah, you precious pander ! Villain,
Where is thy lady? In a word ; or else
Thou art straightway with the fiends.
Pis. O, good my lord !
Clo. Where is thy lady? or, by Jupiter
I will not ask again. Close villain,
I '11 have this secret from thy heart, or rip
Thy heart to find it. Is she with Posthumus?
From whose so many weights of baseness cannot
A dram of worth be drawn.
Pis. Alas, my lord,
How can she be with him? When was she
miss'd?
He is in Rome.
Clo. Where is she, sir? Come nearer;
No further halting : satisfy me home
What is become of her.
Pis. O, my all-worthy lord !
Clo. All-worthy villain !
Discover where thy mistress is at once,
At the next word, no more of worthy lord,
Speak, or thy silence on the instant is
Thy condemnation and thy death.
Pis. Then, sir,
This paper is the history of my knowledge
Touching her flight. [Presenting a letter.
Clo. Let's see't. I will pursue her
Even to Augustus' throne.
Pis. [Aside.] Or this or perish.
She 's far enough ; and what he learns by this
May prove his travel, not her danger.
Clo. Hum!
Pis. [Aside.] I'll write to my lord she's
dead. O Imogen,
Safe mayst thou wander, safe return again !
Clo. Sirrah, is this letter true?
Pis. Sir, as I think.
Clo. It is Posthumus' hand; I know't.
Sirrah, if thou wouldst not be a villain, but do
me true service, undergo those employments
wherein I should have cause to use thee with a
serious industry, that is, what viilany soe'er I
bid thee do, to perform it directly and truly,
I would think thee an honest man : thou shouldst
neither want my means for thy relief nor my
voice for thy preferment.
Pis. Well, my good lord.
Clo. Wilt thou serve me? for since patiently
and constantly thou hast stuck to the bare for-
tune of that beggar Posthumus, thou canst not,
in the course of gratitude, but be a diligent
follower of mine, wilt thou serve me?
Pis. Sir, I will.
Clo. Give me thy hand; here's my purse.
Hast any of thy late master's garments in thy
possession?
Pis. I have, my lord, at my lodging, the
same suit he wore when he took leave of my
lady and mistress.
Clo. The first service thou dost me, fetch
that suit hither : let it be thy first service ; go.
Pis. I shall, my lord. [Exit.
Clo. Meet thee at Milford-Haven ! I forgot
to ask him one thing ; I '11 remember 't anon :
even there, thou villain Posthumus, will I kill
thee. I would these garments were come.
She said upon a time, the bitterness of it I
now belch from my heart, that she held the
very garment of Posthumus in more respect
than my noble and natural person, together with
the adornment of my qualities. With that suit
upon my back will I ravish her : first kill him,
and in her eyes ; there shall she see my valour,
which will then be a torment to her contempt.
He on the ground, my speech of insultment
ended on his dead body, and when my lust
hath dined, which, as I say, to vex her, I will
execute in the clothes that she so praised, to
the court I '11 knock her back, foot her home
again. She hath despised me rejoicingly, and
I '11 be merry in my revenge.
Re-enter PISANIO, with the clothes.
Be those the garments?
Pis. Ay, my noble lord.
Clo. How long is 't since she went to Milford-
Haven?
Pis. She can scarce be there yet.
Clo. Bring this apparel to my chamber ; that
is the second thing that I have commanded
thee: the third is, that thou wilt be a volun-
tary mute to my design. Be but duteous, and
true preferment shall tender itself to thee.
My revenge is now at Milford: would I had
wings to follow it ! Come, and be true.
[Exit.
Pis. Thou bidd'st me to my loss : for true to
thee
Were to prove false, which I will never be,
To him that is most true. To Milford go,
And find not her whom thou pursu'st. Flow,
flow,
You heavenly blessings on her ! This fool's
speed
Be cross'd with slowness ; labour be his meed '
[Exit.
SCENE VI.]
CYMBELINE.
951
SCENE VI. WALES. Before the Cave of
BELARIUS.
Enter IMOGEN, in boy's clothes.
Imo. I see a man's life is a tedious one :
I have tir'd myself ; and for two nights together
Have made the ground my bed. I should be
sick,
But that my resolution helps me. - Milford,
When from the mountain-top Pisanio show'd
thee,
Thou wast within a ken : O Jove ! I think
Foundations fly the wretched ; such, I mean,
Where they should be reliev'd. Two beggars
told me
I could not miss my way : will poor folks lie,
That have afflictions on them, knowing 'tis
A punishment or trial ? Yes ; no wonder,
When rich ones scarce tell true : to lapse in
fulness
Is sorer than to lie for need ; and falsehood
Is worse in kings than beggars. My dear lord !
Thou art one o' the false ones : now I think
on thee
My hunger 's gone ; but even before, I was
At point to sink for food. But what is this?
Here is a path to 't : 'tis some savage hold :
I were best not call ; I dare not call : yet
famine,
Ere clean it o'erthrow nature, makes it valiant.
Plenty and peace breeds cowards ; hardness ever
Of hardiness is mother. Ho ! who 's here ?
If anything that 's civil, speak ; if savage,
Take or lend. Ho! No answer? then I'll
enter.
Best draw my sword ; and if mine enemy
But fear the sword, like me, he '11 scarcely look
on't.
Such a foe, good heavens ! [Goes into the Cave.
Enter BELARIUS, GUIDERIUS, and
ARVIRAGUS.
Bel. You, Polydore, have prov'd best wood-
man, and
Are master of the feast : Cadwal and I
Will play the cook and servant ; 'tis our match:
The sweat of industry would dry and die
But for the end it works to. Come ; our stomachs
Will make what 's homely savoury : weariness
Can snore upon the flint, when restive sloth
Finds the down pillow hard. New, peace be
here,
Poor house, that keep'st thyself !
Gui. I am throughly weary.
Arv. I am weak with toil, yet strong in
appetite.
Gut. There is cold meat i' the cave ; we '11
browse on that
Whilst what we have kill'd be cook'd.
Bel. Stay ; come not in.
[Looking into the Cave.
But that it eats our victuals, I should think
Here were a fairy.
Gui. What 's the matter, sir ?
Bel. By Jupiter, an angel ! or, if not,
An earthly paragon ! Behold divineness
No elder than a boy !
Re-enter IMOGEN.
Imo. Good masters, harm me not :
Before I enter'd here I call'd ; and thought
To have begg'd or bought what I have took :
good troth,
I have stol'n nought ; nor would not, though
I had found
Gold strew'd o' the floor. Here 's money for
my meat :
I would have left it on the board, so soon
As I had made my meal ; and parted
With prayers for the provider.
Gut. ' Money, youth ?
Arv. All gold and silver rather turn to dirt !
And 'tis no better reckon'd, but of those
Who worship dirty gods.
Imo. I see you are angry :
Know, if you kill me for my fault, I should
Have died had I not made it.
Bel. Whither bound?
Imo. To Milord-Haven.
Bel. What 's your name ?
Imo. Fidele, sir. I have a kinsman who
Is bound for Italy ; he embark'd at Milford ;
To whom being going, almost spent with hunger,
I am fallen in this offence.
Bel. Pr'ythee, fair youth,
Think us no churls, nor measure our good minds
By this rude place we live in. Well encounter'd !
'Tis almost night : you shall have better cheer
Ere you depart ; and thanks to stay and eat it.
Boys, bid him welcome.
Gut. Were you a woman, youth,
I should woo hard but be your groom. In
honesty
I'd bid for you as I do buy.
Arv. I '11 make 't my comfort
He is a man ; I '11 love him as my brother :
And such a welcome as I'd give to him,
After long absence, such as yours : most wel-
come !
Be sprightly, for you fall 'mongst friends.
Into. 'Mongst friends,
If brothers. [Aside.} Would it had been so that
they
952
CYMBELINE.
[ACT iv.
Had been my father's sons ! then had my prize
Been less ; and so more equal ballasting
To thee, Posthumus.
Bel. He wrings at some distress.
Gut. Would I could free 't !
Arv. Or I ; whate'er it be,
What pain it cost, what danger ! gods !
Bel. Hark, boys. [Whispering.
Into. Great men,
That had a court no bigger than this cave,
That did attend themselves, and had the virtue
Which their own conscience seal'd them,
laying by
That nothing gift of differing multitudes,
Could not out-peer these twain. Pardon me,
gods !
I'd change my sex to be companion with them,
Since Leonatus' false.
Bel. It shall be so.
Boys, we'll go dress our hunt. Fair youth,
come in :
Discourse is heavy, fasting ; when we have
supp'd
We '11 mannerly demand thee of thy story,
So far as thou wilt speak it.
Gui. Pray* draw near.
Arv. The night to the owl and morn to the
lark less welcome.
Into. Thanks, sir.
Arv. I pray, draw near.
[Exeunt.
SCENE VII. ROME. A public Place.
Enter two Senators and Tribunes.
I Sen. This is the tenor of the Emperor's
writ:
That since the common men are now in action
'Gainst the Pannonians and Dalmatians,
And that the legions now in Gallia are
Full weak to undertake our wars against
The fallen-off Britons, that we do incite
The gentry to this business. He creates
Lucius pro-consul : and to you, the tribunes,
For this immediate levy, he commends
His absolute commission. Long live Csesar !
1 Tri. Is Lucius general of the forces ?
2 Sen. Ay.
i Tri. Remaining now in Gallia ?
i Sen. With those legions
Which I have spoke of, whereunto your levy
Must be supplyant : the words of your commission
Will tie you to the numbers, and the time
Of their despatch.
I Tri. We will discharge our duty.
[Exeunt.
ACT IV.
SCENE I. WALES. The Forest near the Cave of
BELARIUS.
Enter CLOTEN.
Clo. I am near to the place where they should
meet, if Pisanio have mapped it truly. How
fit his garments serve me ! Why should his
mistress, who was made by him that made the
tailor, not be fit too ? the rather, saving rever-
ence of the word, for 'tis said a woman's fit-
ness comes by fits. Therein I must play the
workman. I dare speak it to myself, for it is
not vainglory for a man and his glass to confer
in his own chamber, I mean, the lines of my
body are as well drawn as his ; no less young,
more strong, not beneath him in fortunes, be-
yond him in the advantage of the time, above
him in birth, alike conversant in general services,
and more remarkable in single oppositions : yet
this imperceiverant thing loves him in my de-
spite. What mortality is ! Posthumus, thy head,
which now is growing upon thy shoulders, shall
within this hour be off, thy mistress enforced,
thy garments cut to pieces before thy face ; and
all this done, spurn her home to her father, who
may haply be a little angry for my so rough
usage ; but my mother, having power of his
testiness, shall turn all into my commendations.
My horse is tied up safe : out, sword, and to a
sore purpose ! Fortune, put them into my hand !
This is the very description of their meeting-
place : and the fellow dares not deceive me.
[Exit.
SCENE II. WALES. Before the Cave.
Enter^from the Cave, BELARIUS, GUIDERIUS,
ARVIRAGUS, and IMOGEN.
Bel. [To IMOGEN.] You are not well: remain
here in the cave ;
We '11 come to you after hunting.
Arv. [To IMOGEN.] Brother, stay here:
Are we not brothers ?
Into. So man and man should be ;
But clay and clay differs in dignity,
Whose dust is both alike. I am very sick.
Gui. Go you to hunting. I '11 abide with him.
Into. So sick I am not, yet I am not well;
But not so citizen a wanton as [me ;
To seem to die ere sick : so please you, leave
Stick to your journal course : the breach of
custom [me
Is breach of all. I am ill ; but your being by
Cannot amend me : society is no comfort
SCENE II.]
CYMBELINE.
953
To one not sociable : I am not very sick,
Since I can reason of it. Pray you, trust me
here :
I '11 rob none but myself ; and let me die,
Stealing so poorly.
Gui. I love thee ; I have spoke it :
How much the quantity, the weight as much,
As I do love my father.
Bel. What ? how ! how !
Arv. If it be sin to say so, sir, I yoke me
In my good brother's fault : I know not why
I love this youth ; and I have heard you say
Love's reason 's without reason : the bier at door,
And a demand who is 't shall die, I 'd say
My fat her > not this youth.
Bel. [Aside.] O noble strain !
worthiness of nature ! breed of greatness !
Cowards father cowards, and base things sire
base :
Nature hath meal and bran, contempt and grace.
1 'm not their father ; yet who this should be
Doth miracle itself, lov'd before me.
'Tis the ninth hour o' the morn.
Arv. Brother, farewell.
Into. I wish ye sport
Arv. You health, so please you, sir.
Imo. [Aside.] These are kind creatures.
Gods, what lies I have heard !
Our courtiers say all 's savage but at court :
Experience, O, thou disprov'st report !
The imperious seas breed monsters ; for the dish,
Poor tributary rivers as sweet fish.
I am sick still ; heart -sick. Pisanio,
I '11 now taste of thy drug. [SwaV^ws some.
Gut. I could n^t stir him :
He said he was gentle, but unfortunate ;
Dishonestly afflicted, but yet honest. [after
Arv. Thus did he answer me : yet said here-
I might know more.
Bel. To the field, to the field 1
We '11 leave you for this time : go in and rest.
Arv. We '11 not be long away.
Bel. Pray, be not sick,
For you must be our housewife.
Imo. Well, or ill,
I arn bound to you.
Bel. And shalt be ever.
[Exit IMOGEN into the Cave.
This youth, howe'er distress'd, appears he hath
had
Good ancestors.
Arv. How angel-like he sings !
Gui. But his neat cookery ! He cut our roots
in characters ;
And sauc'd our broths as Juno had been sick,
And he her dieter.
Arv. Nobly he yokes
A smiling with a sigh, as if the sigh
Was that it was for not being such a smile ;
The smile mocking the sigh that^it would fly
From so divine a temple to commix
With winds that sailors rail at.
Gui. I do note,
That grief and patience, rooted in him both,
Mingle their spurs together.
Arv. Grow, patience !
And let the stinking elder, grief, untwine
His perishing root with the increasing vine !
Bel. It is great morning. Come, away!
Who's there?
Enter CLOTEN.
Clo. I cannot find those runagates ; that vil-
lain
Hath mock'd me. I am faint.
Bel. Those runagates !
Means he not us? I partly know him ; 'tis
Cloten, the son o' the queen. I fear some
ambush.
I saw him not these many years, and yet
I know 'tis he. We are held as outlaws : hence !
Gui. He is but one: you and my brother
search
What companies are near : pray you, away;
Let me alone with him.
[Exeunt BELARIUS and ARVIRAGUS.
Clo. Soft ! What are you
That fly me thus? some villain mountaineers ?
I have heard of such. What slave art thou ?
Gui. A thing
More slavish did I ne'er than answering
A slave without a knock.
Clo. Thou art a robber,
A law-breaker, a villain : yield thee, thief.
Gui. To whom? to thee? What art thou?
have not I
An arm as big as thine? a heart as big?
Thy words, I grant, are bigger; for I wear not
My dagger in my mouth. Say what thou art,
Why I should yield to thee ?
Clo. Thou villain base,
Know'st me not by my clothes ?
Gui. No, nor thy tailor, rascal,
Who is thy grandfather : he made those clothes,
Which, as it seems, make thee.
Clo. Thou precious varlet,
My tailor made them not.
Gui. Hence, then, and thank
The man that gave them thee. Thou art some
fool;
I am loth to beat thee.
Clo. Thou injurious thief,
Hear but my name, and tremble.
Gui. What 's thy name ?
954
CYMBELINE.
[ACT iv.
Clo. Cloten, thou villain.
Gut. Cloten. thou double villain, be thy name,
I cannot tremble at it ; were it toad, or adder,
spider,
'Twould move me sooner.
Clo. To thy further fear,
Nay, to thy mere confusion, thou shalt know
I'm son to the queen.
Gut. I 'm sorry for 't ; not seeming
So worthy as thy birth.
Clo. Art not afeard ?
Gut. Those that I reverence, those I fear,
the wise :
At fools I laugh, not fear them.
Clo. Die the death :
When I have slain thee with my proper hand,
I '11 follow those that even now fled hence,
And on the gates of Lud's town set your
heads :
Yield, rustic mountaineer. \_Exeunt fighting.
Re-enter BELARIUS and ARVIRAGUS.
Bel. No company 's abroad.
Arv. None in the world: you did mistake
him, sure.
Bel. I cannot tell : long is it since I saw him,
But time hath nothing blurr'd those lines of
favour
Which then he wore ; the snatches in his voice,
And burst of speaking, were as his : I am
absolute
'Twas very Cloten.
Arv. In this place we left them :
I wish my brother make good time with him,
You say he is so fell.
Bet. Being scarce made up,
I mean to man, he had not apprehension
Of roaring terrors ; for defect of judgment
Is oft the cure of fear. But, see, thy brother.
Re-enter GUIDERIUS with CLOTEN'S head.
Gut. This Cloten wasafool, an empty purse,
There was no money in 't : not Hercules
Could have knock'd out his brains, for he had
none:
Yet I not doing this, the fool had borne
My head as I do his.
Bel. What hast thou done ?
Gui. I am perfect what : cut off one Cloten's
head,
Son to the queen, after his own report ;
Who call'd me traitor, mountaineer ; and swore,
With his own single hand he 'd take us in,
Displace our heads where, thank the gods !
they grow,
And set them on Lud's town.
Bel. We are all undone.
Gui. Why, worthy father, what have we to
lose
But that he swore to take, our lives? The law
Protects not us : then why should we be tender,
To let an arrogant piece of flesh threat us ;
Play judge and executioner all himself,
For we do fear the law? What company
Discover you abroad ?
Bel. No single soul
Can we set eye on, but in all safe reason
He must have some attendants. Though his
humour
Was nothing but mutation, ay, and that
From one bad thing to worse ; not frenzy, not
Absolute madness could so far have rav'd,
To bring him here alone : although perhaps
It may be heard at court that such as we
Cave here, hunt here, are outlaws, and in time
May make some stronger head : the which he
hearing,
As it is like him, might break out, and swear
He 'd fetch us in ; yet is 't not probable
To come alone, either he so undertaking [fear,
Or they so suffering : then on good ground we
If we do fear this body hath a tail
More perilous than the head.
Arv. Let ordinance
Come as the gods foresay it : howsoe'er,
My brother hath done well.
Bel. I had no mind
To hunt this day : the boy Fidele's sickness
Did make my way long forth.
Gui. With his own sword,
Which he did wave against my throat, I have
ca'en
His head from him : I '11 throw 't into the creek
Behind our rock ; and let it to the sea,
And tell the fishes he 's the queen's son, Cloten :
That 's all I reck. [Exit.
Bel. I fear 'twill be reveng'd ;
Would, Polydore, thou hadst not done 't !
though valour
Becomes thee well enough.
Arv. Would I had done't,
So the revenge alone pursu'd me ! Polydore,
I love thee brotherly ; but envy much
Thou hast robb'd me of this deed: I would
revenges, [us through,
That possible strength might meet, would seek
And put us to our answer.
Bel. Well, 'tis done :
We '11 hunt no more to-day, nor seek for danger
Where there 's no profit. I pr'ythee, to our rock ;
You and Fidele play the cooks: I '11 stay
Till hasty Polydore return, and bring him
To dinner presently.
Arv. Poor sick Fidele !
SCENE II.]
CYMBELINE.
955
I '11 willingly to him : to gain his colour
I 'd let a parish of such Clotens' blood,
And praise myself for charity. [Exit.
Bel. O thou goddess,
Thou divine nature, how thyself thou blazon'st
In these two princely boys ! They are as gentle
As zephyrs blowing below the violet,
Not wagging his sweet head ; and yet as rough,
Their royal blood enchaf d, as the rud'st wind
That by the top doth take the mountain pine,
And make him stoop to the vale. 'Tis wonder
That an invisible instinct should frame them
To royalty unlearn'd ; honour untaught ;
Civility not seen from other ; valour
That wildly grows in them, but yields a crop
As if it had been sow'd. Yet still it 's strange
What Cloten's being here to us portends,
Or what his death will bring us.
Re-enter GUIDERIUS.
Gui. Where 's my brother?
I have sent Cloten's clotpoll down the stream,
In embassy to his mother : his body 's hostage
For his return. [Solemn music.
Bel. My ingenious instrument !
Hark, Polydore, it sounds ! But what occasion
Hath Cadwal now to give it motion? Hark !
Gui. Is he at home ?
Bel. He went hence even now.
Gui. What does he mean ? since death of my
dear'st mother
It did not speak before. All solemn things
Should answer solemn accidents. The matter?
Triumphs for nothing and lamenting toys
Is jollity for apes and grief for boys.
Is Cadwal mad ?
Bel. Look, here he comes,
And brings the dire occasion in his arms
Of what we blame him for !
Re-enter ARVIRAGUS, bearing IMOGEN as dead
in his arms.
Arv. The bird is dead
That we have made so much on. I had rather
Have skipp'd from sixteen years of age to
sixty,
To have turn'd my leaping time into a crutch,
Than have seen this.
Gui. O sweetest, fairest lily !
My brother wears thee not the one half so well
As when thou grew'st thyself.
Bel. O melancholy !
Who ever yet could sound thy bottom ? find
The ooze to show what coast thy sluggish crare
Might easiliest harbour in? Thou blessed thing!
Jove knows what man thou might' st have made ;
but I,
Thou diedst, a most rare boy, of melancholy !
How found you him ?
Arv. Stark, as you see :
Thus smiling, as some fly had tickled slumber,
Not as death's dart, being laugh'd at : his right
cheek
Reposing on a cushion.
Gui. Where?
Arv. O' the floor ;
His arms thus leagu'd : I thought he slept ; and
put [rudeness
My clouted brogues from off my feet, whose
Answer'd my steps too loud.
Gui. Why, he but sleeps :
If he be gone he '11 make his grave a bed ;
With female fairies will his tomb be haunted,
And worms will not come to thee.
Arv. With fairest flowers,
Whilst summer lasts and I live here, Fidele,
I '11 sweeten thy sad grave : thou shalt not lack
The flower that 's like thy face, pale primrose ;
nor
The azure hare-bell, like thy veins ; no, nor
The leaf of eglantine, whom not to slander,
Out-sweeten'd not thy breath : the ruddock
would,
With charitable bill, O bill, sore shaming
Those rich-left heirs that let their fathers lie
Without a monument ! bring thee all this ;
Yea, and furr'd moss besides, when flowers are
none,
To winter-ground thy corse.
Gui. Pr'ythee, have done ;
And do not play in wench-like words with that
Which is so serious. Let us bury him.
And not protract with admiration what
Is now due debt. To the grave !
Arv. Say, where shall 's lay him?
Gui. By good Euriphile, our mother.
Arv. Be'tso:
And let us, Polydore, though now our voices
Have got the mannish crack, sing him to the
ground,
As once our mother ; use like note and words,
Save that Euriphile must be Fidele.
Gui. Cadwal,
I cannot sing : I '11 weep, and word it with thee ;
For notes of sorrow out of tune are worse
Than priests and fanes that lie.
Arv. We '11 speak it, then.
Bel. Great griefs, I see, medicine the less :
for Cloten
Is quite forgot. He was a queen's son, boys :
And though he came our enemy, remember,
He was paid for that : thou mean and mighty,
rotting
Together, have one dust, yet reverence,
956
CYMBELINE,
[ACT iv.
That angel of the world, doth make distinction
Of place 'tween high and low. Our foe was
princely ;
And though you took his life, as being our foe,
Yet bury him as a prince.
Gui. Pray you, fetch him hither.
Thersites' body is as good as Ajax*,
When neither are alive.
Arv. If you '11 go fetch him,
We '11 say our song the whilst. Brother, begin.
[Exit BELARIUS.
Gut. Nay, Cadwal, we must lay his head to
the east ;
My father hath a reason for 't.
Arv. 'Tis true.
Gui. Come on, then, and remove him.
Arv. So, Begin.
SONG.
Gui. Fear no more the heat o 1 the sun,
Nor the furious winter's rages ;
Thou thy worldly task hast done,
Home art gone, and ta'en thy wages :
Golden lads and girls all must,
As chimney-sweepers, come to dust.
A rv. Fear no more the frown o' the great ;
Thou art past the tyrant's stroke :
Care no more to clothe and eat ;
To thee the reed is as the oak t
The sceptre, learning, physic, must
All follow this, and come to dust.
Gui. Fear no more the lightning-flash,
Arv. Nor the all-dreaded thunder-stone ;
Gui. Fear not slander, censure rash ;
Arv. Thou hast finish'd joy and moan :
Both. All lovers young, all lovers must
Consign to thee, and come to dust.
Gui. No exerciser harm thee !
Arv. Nor no witchcraft charm thee !
Gui. Ghost unlaid forbear thee I
Arv. Nothing ill come near thee !
Both, Quiet consummation have ;
And renowned be thy grave !
Re-enter BELARIUS with the body of CLOTEN.
Gui. We have done our obsequies : come,
lay him down. [night, more :
Bel. Here's a few flowers; but 'bout mid-
The herbs that have on them cold dew o' the
night [faces.
Are strewings fitt'st for graves. Upon their
You were as flowers, now wither'd : even so
These herblets shall, which we upon youstrew.
Come on, away : apart upon our knees.
The ground that gave them first has them again :
Their pleasures here are past, so is their pain.
[Exeunt BEL. , GUI. , and ARV.
Into. [Awaking.} Yes, sir, to Milford-Haven;
which is the way?
I thank you. By yon bush? Pray, how far
thither?
'Ods pittikins ! can it be six mile yet ?
I have gone all night. Faith, I '11 lie down and
sleep.
But, soft ! no bedfellow : O gods and god-
desses ! [Seeing the body.
These flowers are like the pleasures of the world;
This bloody man, the care on't. I hope I
dream ;
For so I thought I was a cave-keeper,
And cook to honest creatures : but 'tis not so ;
'Twas but a bolt of nothing, shot at nothing,
Which the brain makes of fumes : our very eyes
Are sometimes, like our judgments, blind.
Good faith,
I tremble still with fear : but if there be
Yet left in heaven as small a drop of pity
As a wren's eye, fear'd gods, a part of it !
The dream 's here still ; even when I wake it is
Without me, as within me; not imagin'd, felt.
A headless man ! The garments of Posthumus !
I know the shape of 's leg : this is his hand ;
His foot Mercurial ; his Martial thigh ;
The brawns of Hercules : but his Jovial face
Murder in heaven? How! 'Tis gone. Pis-
anio,
All curses madded Hecuba gave the Greeks,
And mine to boot, be darted on thee ! Thou,
Conspir'd with that irregulous devil, Cloten,
Hast here cut off my lord. To write and read
Be henceforth treacherous ! Damn'd Pisanio
Hath with hisforged letters, damn'd Pisanio,
From this most bravest vessel of the world
Struck the main-top ! O Posthumus 1 alas,
Where is thy head? where 's that? Ay me!
where's that?
Pisanio might have kill'd thee at the heart,
And left thy head on. How should this be?
Pisanio?
'Tis he and Cloten : malice and lucre in them
Have laid this woe here. O 'tis pregnant^
pregnant !
The drug he gave me, which he said was precious
And cordial to me, have I not found it [home
Murderous to the senses? That confirms it
This is Pisanio's deed, and Cloten's : O !
Give colour to my pale cheek with thy blood,
That we the horrider may seem to those
Which chance to find us : O, my lord, my lord J
Enter Lucius, a Captain and other Officers,
and a Soothsayer.
Cap. To them, the legions garrison'd in Gallia,
After your will, have cross'd the sea ; attending
You here at Milford-Haven with your ships:
They are in readiness.
SCENE II.]
CYMBELINE,
9S7
Luc. But what from Rome?
Cap. The senate hath stirr'd up the confiners
And gentlemen of Italy ; most willing spirits,
That promise noble service : and they come
Under the conduct of bold lachimo,
Sienna's brother.
Luc. When expect you them?
Cap. With the next benefit o' the wind.
Luc. This forwardness
Makes our hopes fair. Command our present
numbers [sir,
Be muster'd ; bid the captains look to 't. Now,
What have you dream'd of late of this war's
purpose? [a vision,
Sooth. Last night the very gods show'd me
I fast and pray'd for their intelligence, thus :
I saw Jove's bird, the Roman eagle, wingM
From the spongy south to this part of the west,
There vanish'd in the sunbeams: which por-
tends,
Unless my sins abuse my divination,
Success to the Roman host.
Luc. Dream often so,
And never false. Soft,, ho ! what trunk is here
Without his top? The ruin speaks that some-
time
It was a worthy building. How! a page!
Or dead or sleeping on him? But dead, rather ;
For nature doth abhor to make his bed
With the defunct, or sleep upon the dead.
Let 's see the boy's face,
Cap. He 's alive, my lord.
Luc. He '11, then, instruct us of this body.
Young one,
Inform us of thy fortunes ; for it seems
They crave to be demanded. Who is this
Thou mak'st thy bloody pillow ? or who was he,
That otherwise than noble nature did, [terest
Hath alter'd that good picture ? What 's thy in-
In this sad wreck? How came it? Who is it?
What art thou?
Imo. I am nothing: or if not,
Nothing to be were better. This was my master,
A very valiant Briton and a good,
That here by mountaineers lies slain : alas !
There is no more such masters : I may wander
From east to Occident, cry out for service,
Try many, all good, serve truly, never
Find such another master.
Luc. 'Lack, good youth !
Thou mov'st no less with thy complaining than
Thy master in bleeding: say his name, good
friend. [and do
Imo. Richard du Champ {Aside. ] If I do lie,
No harm by it, though the gods hear, I hope
They'll pardon it.-JSay you, sir?
Luc. Thy name?
Imo. Fidele.
Luc. Thou dost approve thyself the very
same : [name.
Thy name well fits thy faith, thy faith thy
Wilt take thy chance with me? I will not say
Thou shalt be so well master'd ; but, be sure,
No less belov'd. The Roman emperor's letters,
Sent by a consul to me, should not sooner
Than thine own worth prefer thee : go with me.
Imo. I '11 follow, sir. But first, an 't please
the gods,
I '11 hide my master from the flies, as deep
As these poor pickaxes can dig: and when
With wild wood-leaves and weeds I ha' strew'd
his grave,
And on it said a century of prayers,
Such as I can, twice o'er, I'll weep and sigh;
And leaving so his service, follow you,
So please you entertain me.
Luc. Ay, good youth ;
And rather father thee than master thee.
My friends,
The boy hath taught us manly duties : let us
Find out the prettiest daisied plot we can,
And make him with our pikes and partisans
A grave: come, arm him. Boy, he is preferr'd
By thee to us; and he shall be interr'd
As soldiers can. Be cheerful ; wipe thine eyes :
Some falls are means the happier to arise.
{Exeunt.
SCENE III. BRITAIN. A Room in CYM-
BFLINE'S Palace.
Enter CYMBELINE, Lords, PISANIO, and
Attendants.
Cym. Again; and bring me word how 'tis
with her.
A fever with the absence of her son ;
[Exit an Attendant.
A madness, of which her life 's in danger,
Heavens,
How deeply you at once do touch me ! Imogen,
The great part of my comfort, gone ; my queen
Upon a desperate bed, and in a time
When fearful wars point at me ; her son gone,
So needful for this present : it strikes me, past
The hope of comfort. But for thee, fellow,
Who needs must know of her departure, and
Dost seem so ignorant, we '11 enforce it from thee
By a sharp torture.
Pis. Sir, my life is yours, [tress,
I humbly set it at your will : but, for my mis-
I nothing know where she remains, why gone,
Nor when she purposes return. Beseech your
highness,
Hold me your loyal servant.
CYMBELINE.
[ACT iv.
I Lord. Good my liege,
The day that she was missing he was here :
I dare be bound he 's true, and shall perform
All parts of his subjection loyally.
For Cloten,
There wants no diligence in seeking him,
And will no doubt be found.
Cym. The time is troublesome,
We '11 slip you for a season ; but our jealousy
\To PlSANIO.
Does yet depend.
i Lord. So please your majesty,
The Roman legions, all from Gallia drawn,
Are landed on your coast ; with a supply
Of Roman gentlemen by the senate sent.
Cym. Now for the counsel of my son and
queen !
I am amaz'd with matter.
I Lord. Good my liege,
Your preparation can affront no less
Than what you hear of: come more, for more
you 're ready :
The want is but to put those powers in motion
That long to move.
Cym. I thank you. Let 's withdraw,
And meet the time as it seeks us. We fear not
What can from Italy annoy us ; but
We grieve at chances here. Away I
[Exeunt all but PlSANIO.
Pis. I heard no letter from my master since
I wrote him Imogen was slain : 'tis strange :
Nor hear I from my mistress, who did promise
To yield me often tidings ; neither know I
What is betid to Cloten ; but remain
Perplex'd in all : the heavens still must work.
Wherein I am false I am honest ; not true to be
true:
These present wars shall find I love my country,
Even to the note o' the king, or I '11 fall in them.
All other doubts, by time let them be clear'd :
Fortune brings in some boats that are not steer'd.
[Exit.
SCENE IV. WALES. Before the Cave.
Enter BELAJLIUS, GUIDERIUS, and
ARVIRAGUS.
Gut. The noise is round about us.
Bel. Let us from it.
Arv. What pleasure, sir, find we in life, to
lock it
From action and adventure?
Gui. Nay, what hope
Have we in hiding us? this way the Romans
Must or for Britons slay us or receive us
For barbarous and unnatural revolts
During their use, and slay us after.
Bel. Sons,
We '11 higher to the mountains ; there secure us.
To the king's party there 's no going : newness
Of Cloten's death, we being not known, not
muster'd
Among the bands, may drive us to a render
Where we have liv'd ; and so extort from 's
That which we 've done, whose answer would
be death,
Drawn on with torture.
Gui. This is, sir, a doubt
In such a time nothing becoming you
Nor satisfying us.
Arv. It is not likely
That when they hear the Roman horses neigh,
Behold their quartered fires, have both their
eyes
And ears so cloy'd importantly as now,
That they will waste their time upon cur note,
To know from whence we are.
Bel. O, I am known
Of many in the army : many years,
Though Cloten then but young, you see, not
wore him
From my remembrance. And , besides, the king
Hath not deserv'd my service nor your loves ;
Who find in my exile the want of breeding
The certainty of this hard life ; aye hopeless
To have the courtesy your cradle promis'd,
But to be still hot summer's tanlings and
The shrinking slaves of winter.
Gui. Than be so,
Better to cease to be. Pray, sir, to the army :
I and my brother are not known ; yourself
So out of thought, and thereto so o'ergrown,
Cannot be question'd.
Arv. By this sun that shines,
I '11 thither: what thing is it that I never
Did see man die ! scarce ever look'd on blood.
But that of coward hares, hot goats, and
venison !
Never bestrid a horse, save one that had
A rider like myself, who ne'er wore rowel
Nor iron on his heel ! I am asham'd
To look upon the holy sun, to have
The benefit of his blessed beams, remaining
So long a poor unknown.
Gui. By heavens, I '11 go :
If you will bless me, sir, and give me leave,
I '11 take the better care ; but if you will not,
The hazard therefore due fall on me by
The hands of Romans !
Arv. So say I, Amen.
Bel. No reason I, since of your lives you set
So slight a valuation, should reserve
My crack'd one to more care. Have with you,
boys!
SCENE IV.]
CYMBELINE.
959
If in your country wars you chance to die.
That is my bed too, lads, and there I '11 lie :
Lead, lead. {Aside.} The time seems long ;
their blood thinks scorn
Till it fly out, and show them princes born.
[Exeunt.
ACT V.
SCENE I. BRITAIN. A Field between the
British and Roman Camps.
Enter POSTHUMUS with a bloody handkerchief.
Post. Yea, bloody cloth, I '11 keep thee ; for
I wish'd
Thou shouldst be colour'd thus. You married
ones,
If each of you should take this course, how
many
Must murder wives much better than them-
selves
For wrying but a little ! O Pisanio !
Every good servant does not all commands :
No bond but to do just ones. Gods ! if you
Should have ta'en vengeance on my faults, I
never
Had liv'd to put on this : so had you sav'd
The noble Imogen to repent ; and struck
Me, wretch more worth your vengeance. But
alack,
You snatch some hence for little faults ; that's
love,
To have them fall no more : you some permit
To second ills with ills, each elder worse,
And make them dread it, to the doers' thrift.
But Imogen is your own : do your best wills,
And make me bless'd to obey ! I am brought
hither
Among the Italian gentry, and to fight
Against my lady's kingdom : 'tis enough
That, Britain, I have kilFd thy mistress ; peace !
I '11 give no wound to thee. Therefore, good
heavens,
Hear patiently my purpose : I '11 disrobe me
Of these Italian weeds, and suit myself
As does a Briton peasant : so I '11 fight
Against the part I come with ; so I '11 die
For thee, O Imogen, even for whom my life
Is every breath a death : and thus unknown,
Pitied nor hated, to the face of peril
Myself I '11 dedicate. Let me make men know
More valour in me than my habits show.
Gods, put the. strength o' the Leonati in me !
To shame the guise o' the world, I will begin
The fashion, less without and more within.
SCENE II. BRITAIN. A Field between the
Camps.
Enter, at one side, Lucius, IACHIMO, IMOGEN,
and the Roman Army ; at the other side, the
British Army; LEONATUS PosTHUMUsyW&w-
ing it like a poor soldier. They march over
and go out. Alarums. Then enter again, in
skirmish, IACHIMO and POSTHUMUS : ke
vanquisheth and disarmeth IACHIMO, and
then leaves him.
lack. The heaviness and guilt within my
bosom
Takes off my manhood : I have belied a lady,
The princess of this country, and the air on 't
Revengingly enfeebles me ; or could this carl,
A very drudge of nature's, have subdu'd me
In my profession ? Knighthoods and honours
borne
As I wear mine are titles but of scorn.
If that thy gentry, Britain, go before
This lout as he exceeds our lords, the odds
Is that we scarce are men, and you are gods.
[Exit.
The battle continues ; the Britons fiy ; CYM-
BELINE is taken : then enter to his rescue
BELARIUS, GUIDERIUS, and ARVIRAGUS.
Bel. Stand, stand ! We have the advantage
of the ground ;
The lane is guarded : nothing routs us but
The villany of our fears.
Gui. and Arv. Stand, stand, and fight !
Re-enter POSTHUMUS, andsecoitds the Britons :
they rescue CYMBELINE, and exeunt. Then
re-enter Lucius, IACHIMO, and IMOGEN.
Luc. Away, boy, from the troops, and save
thyself ;
For friends kill friends, and the disorder 's such
As war were hoodwink'd.
loch. 'Tis their fresh supplies.
Luc. It is a day turn'd strangely : or betimes
Let 's re-enforce or fly [Exeunt.
SCENE III. BRITAIN. Another part of the
Field.
Enter POSTHUMUS and a British Lord.
Lord. Cam'st thou from where they made the
stand ?
Post. I did :
Though you, it seems, come from the fliers.
Lord. I did.
Post. No blame be to you, sir ; for all was
lost,
But that the heavens fought : the king himseli
Of his wings destitute, the army broken,
g6o
CYMBELINE.
LACT v.
And but the backs of Britons seen, all flying
Through a straight lane ; the enemy full-hearted,
Lolling the tongue with slaughtering, having
work
More plentiful than tools to do 't, struck down
Some mortally, some slightly touch'd, some
falling [damnVd
Merely through fear ; that the strait path was
With dead men hurt behind, and cowards living,
To die with lengthen'd shame.
Lord. Where was this lane ?
Post. Close by the battle, ditch'd, and wall'd
with turf,
Which gave advantage to an ancient soldier,
An honest one, I warrant ; who deserv'd
So long a breeding as his white beard came to,
In doing this for 's country : athwart the lane
He, with two striplings, lads more like to run
The country base than to commit such slaughter ;
With faces fit for masks, or rather fairer
Than those for preservation cas'd, or shame,
Made good the passage ; cried to those that fled,
Our Britain's harts die flying, not our men :
To darkness fleet, souls that fly backwards !
Stand;
Or we are Romans, and will give you that
Like beasts which you shun beastly, andmaysave,
But to look back in frown : stand, stand!
These three,
Three thousand confident, in act as many,
For three performers are the file when all
The rest do nothing, with this word, Stand,
stand!
Accommodated by the place, more charming
With their own nobleness, which could have
turn'd
A distaff to a lance, gilded pale looks,
Part shame, part spirit renew' d ; that some,
turn'd coward
But by example, O, a sin in war
Damn'd in the first beginners ! 'gan to look
The way that they did, and to grin like lions
Upon the pikes o' the hunters. Then began
A stop i' the chaser, a retire ; anon
A rout, confusion thick : forthwith they fly,
Chickens, the way which they stoop'd eagles ;
slaves, [cowards,
The strides they victors made : and now our
Like fragments in hard voyages, became
The life o' the need ; having found the back-
door open [wound !
Of the unguarded hearts, heavens, how they
Some slain before ; some dying; some their friends
O'erborne i' the former wave : ten chas'd by one
Are now each one the slaughter-man of twenty :
Those that would die or ere resist are grown
The mortal bugs o' the field.
Lord. This was strange chance,
A narrow lane, an old man, and two boys !
Post. Nay, do not wonder at it : you are made
Rather to wonder at the things you hear
Than to work any. Will you rhyme upon 't,
And vent it for a mockery ? Here is one :
Two boys, an old man twice a boy, a lane,
Preserved the Britons, was the Romans' bane,
Lord. Nay, be not angry, sir.
Post. 'Lack, to what end?
Who dares not stand his foe I '11 be his friend ;
For if he '11 do as he is made to do
I know he '11 quickly fly my friendship too.
You have put me into rhyme.
Lord. Farewell ; you 're angry.
\Extt.
Post. Still going? This is a lord ! O noble
misery,
To be i' the field and ask what news of me !
To-day how many would have given their honours
To have sav'd their carcasses ! took heel to do't,
And yet died too ! I, in mine own woe charm'd,
Could not find death where I did hear him
groan, [monster,
Nor feel him where he struck : being an ugly
'Tis strange he hides him in fresh cups, soft beds,
Sweet words; or hath more ministers than we
That draw his knives i' the war. Well, I will
find him :
For being now a favourer to the Briton,
No more a Briton, I have resum'd again
The part I came in : fight I will no more,
But yield me to the veriest hind that shall [is
Once touch my shoulder. Great the slaughter
Here made by the Roman ; great the answer be
Britons must take : for me, my ransom J s death ;
On either side I come to spend my breath ;
Which neither here I '11 keep nor bear again,
But end it by some means for Imogen.
Enter two British Captains and Soldiers.
1 Cap. Great Jupiter be prais'd ! Lucius is
taken :
'Tis thought the old man and his sons were angels.
2 Cap. There wasa fourth man, in a silly habit,
That gave the affront with them.
1 Cap. So 'tis reported ;
But none of 'em can be found. Stand ! who's
there ?
Post. A Roman ;
Who had not now been drooping here if seconds
Had answer'd him.
2 Cap. Lay hands on him ; a dog !
A leg of Rome shall not return to tell
What crows have peck'd them here : he brags
his service,
As if he were of note ; bring him to the king.
SCENE IV.J
CYMBELINE.
961
Enter CYMBELINE attended; BELARIUS, Gum-
ERIUS, ARVIRAGUS, PISANIO, and Roman
Captives. 7 tie Captains present POSTHUMUS
to CYMBELINE, who delivers him over to a
Gaoler: after which all go out.
SCENE IV. BRITAIN. A Prison.
Enter POSTHUMUS and two Gaolers.
1 Gaol. You shall not now be stolen, you have
locks upon you ;
So, graze as you find pasture.
2 Gaol. Ay, or a stomach.
[Exeunt Gaolers.
Post. Most welcome, bondage ! for thou art
a way,
I think, to liberty : yet am I better [rather
Than one that 's sick o' the gout ; since he had
Groan so in perpetuity than be cur'd
By the sure physician death, who is the key
To unbar these locks. My conscience, thou art
fetter'd [give me
More than my shanks and wrists : you good gods,
The penitent instrument to pick that bolt,
Then free for ever ! Is 't enough I am sorry ?
Sc children temporal fathers do appease ;
Gods are more full of mercy. Must I repent ?
I cannot do it better than in gyves,
Desir'd more than constrain'd : to satisfy,
If of my freedom 'tis the main part, take
No stricter render of me than my all.
I know you are more clement than vile men,
Who of their broken debtors take a third,
A sixth, a tenth, letting them thrive again
On their abatement : that 's not my desire :
For Imogen's dear life take mine ; and though
'Tis not so dear, yet 'tis a life ; you coin'd it :
'Tween man and man they weigh not every stamp;
Though light, take pieces for the figure's sake :
You rather mine, being yours : and so, great
powers,
If you will take this audit, take this life,
And cancel these cold bonds. O Imogen !
I '11 speak to thee in silence. [Sleeps.
Solemn Music. Enter, as in an apparition,
SICILIUS LEONATUS,ya//5fr to POSTHUMUS,
an old man attired like a warrior, leading in
his hand an ancient matron, his wife and
mother to POSTHUMUS, with music before
them : then, after other music, follow the two
yoiing LEONATI, brothers to POSTHUMUS,
with wounds, as they died in the wars. They
circle POSTHUMUS round as he lies sleeping.
Sici. No more, thou thunder-master, show
Thy spite on mortal flies :
With Mars fall out, with Juno chide,
That thy adulteries
Rates and revenges.
Hath my poor boy done aught but well,
Whose face I never saw ?
I died whilst in the womb he stay'd
Attending nature's law :
Whose father then, as men report
Thou orphans' father art,
Thou shouldst have been, and shielded him
From this earth-vexing smart.
Moth. Lucina lent not me her aid,
But took me in my throes ;
That from me was Posthumus ripp'd,
Came crying 'mongst his foes,
A thing of pity !
Sict. Great nature, like his ancestry,
Moulded the stuff so fair
That he deserv'd the praise o' the world
As great Sicilius' heir.
1 Bro. When once he was mature for man,
In Britain where was he
That could stand up his parallel ;
Or fruitful object be
In eye of Imogen, that best
Could deem his dignity ?
Moth. With marriage wherefore was hemock'd,
To be exil'd, and thrown
From Leonati' seat, and cast
From her his dearest one,
Sweet Imogen ?
Sici. Why did you suffer lachimo,
Slight thing of Italy,
To taint his nobler heart and brain
With needless jealousy ;
And to become the geek and scorn
O' the other's villany ?
2 Bro. For this from stiller seats we came,
Our parents and us twain,
That, striking in our country's cause,
Fell bravely and were slain ;
Our fealty and Tenantius' right
With honour to maintain.
i Bro. Like hardiment Posthumus hath
To Cymbeline perform'd :
Then, Jupiter, thou king of gods,
Why hast thou thus adjourn'd
The graces for his merits due,
Being all to dolours turn'd ?
Sici. Thy crystal window ope ; look out j
No longer exercise
Upon a valiant race thy harsh
And potent injuries.
2U
9 62
CYMBELINE.
[ACT v.
Jup.
Offe
Moth, Since, Jupiter, our son is good,
Take off his miseries.
Sici. Peep through thy marble mansion; help;
Or we poor ghosts will cry
To the shining synod of the rest
Against thy deity.
Both Bro. Help, Jupiter ; or we appeal,
And from thy justice fly.
JUPITER descends in thunder and lightning, sit-
ing upon an eagle : he throws a thunderbolt.
7%e Ghosts fall on their knees.
up. No more, you petty spirits of 'region low,
end our hearing ; hush ! How dare you
ghosts
Accuse the thunderer, whose bolt, you know,
Sky-planted, batters all rebelling coasts ?
Poor shadows of Elysium, hence ; and rest
Upon your never-withering banks of flowers :
Be not with mortal accidents oppress'd ;
No care of yours it is ; you know 'tis ours.
W'.iom best I love I cross ; to make my gift,
The more delay'd, delighted. Be content ;
Your low-laid son our godhead will uplift :
His comforts thrive, his trials well are spent.
Our Jovial star reign'd at his birth, and in
Our temple was he married. Rise, and fade !
He shall be lord of Lady Imogen,
And happier much by his affliction made.
This tablet lay upon his breast, wherein
Our pleasure his full fortune doth confine :
And so away ; no further with your din
Express impatience, lest you stir up mine.
Mount, eagle, to my palace crystalline.
[Ascends.
Sici. He came in thunder ; his celestial breath
Was sulphurous to smell : the holy eagle
Stoop'd, as to foot us : his ascension is
More sweet than our bless'd fields : his royal bird
Prunes the immortal wing, and cloys his beak,
As when his god is pleas'd.
All. Thanks, Jupiter I
Sici. The marble pavement closes, he isenter'd
His radiant roof. Away ! and, to be blest,
Let us with care perform his great behest.
[Ghosts vanish.
Post. [Waking.} Sleep, thou hast been a
grandsire, and begot
A father to me ; and thou hast created
A mother and two brothers : but, O scorn !
Gone ! they went hence so soon as they were born.
And so I am awake. Poor wretches that depend
On greatness' favour dream as I have done,
Wake and find nothing. But, alas, I swerve :
Many dream not to find, neither deserve,
And yet are steep'd in favours ; so am I,
That have this golden chance, and know not
why. [rare one !
What fairies haunt this ground ? A book ? O
Be not, as is our fangled world, a garment
Nobler than that it covers : let thy effects
So follow, to be most unlike our courtiers,
As good as promise.
[Reads.} Whenas a lion's whelp shall, to
himself unknown, without seeking find, and be
embraced by a piece of tender air ; and when
from a stately cedar shall be lopped branches
which, being deaa many years, shall after re-
vive, be jointed to the old stock, and freshly
grow ; then shall Posthumiis end his miseries,
Britain be fortunate^ and flourish in peace and
plenty.
'Tis still a dream ; or else such stuff as madmen
Tongue, and brain not : either both or nothing :
Or senseless speaking, or a speaking such
As sense cannot untie. Be what it is,
The action of my life is like it, which
I '11 keep, if but for sympathy.
Re-enter Gaoler.
Gaol. Come, sir, are you ready for death ?
Post. Over- roasted rather ; ready long ago.
Gaol. Hanging is the word, sir : if you be
ready for that, you are well cooked.
Post. So, if I prove a good repast to the
spectators, the dish pays the shot.
Gaol. A heavy reckoning for you, sir. But
the comfort is, you shall be called to no more
payments, fear no more tavern bills ; which are
often the sadness of parting, as the procuring of
mirth : you come in faint for want of meat,
depart reeling with too much drink ; sorry that
you have paid too much, and sorry that you are
paid too much ; purse and brain both empty,
the brain the heavier for being too light, the
purse too light, being drawn of heaviness : O,
of this contradiction you shall now be quit.
O, the charity of a penny cord ! it sums up
thousands in a trice : you have no true debitor
and creditor but it ; of what 's past, is, and to
come, the discharge: your neck, sir, is pen,
book, and counters ; so the acquittance follows.
Post. I am merrier to die than thou art to
live.
Gaol. Indeed, sir, he that sleeps feels not the
toothache : but a man that were to sleep your
sleep, and a hangman to help him to bed, I
think he would change places with his officer ;
for, look you, sir, you know not which way you
shall go.
Post. Yes, indeed do I, fellow.
Gaol. Your death has eyes in 's head, then ;
I have not seen him so pictured: you must
SCENE V.]
CYMBELINE.
963
either be directed by some that take upon them
to know, or take upon yourself that which I am
sure you do not know ; or jump the after-inquiry
on your own peril : and how you shall speed in
your journey's end I think you '11 never return
to tell one.
Post. I tell thee, fellosv, there are none want
eyes to direct them the way I am going, but
such as wink and will not use them.
Gaol What an infinite mock is this, that a
man should have the best use of eyes to see the
way of blindness ! I am sure hanging 's the
way of winking.
Enter a Messenger.
Mess. Knock off his manacles ; bring your
prisoner to the king.
Post. Thou bringest good news, I am called
to be made free.
Gaol. I '11 be hanged, then.
Post. Thou shalt be then freer than a gaoler ;
no bolts for the dead.
[Exeunt POST, and Messenger.
Gaol. Unless a man would marry a gallows
and beget young gibbets I never saw one so
prone. Yet, on my conscience, there are verier
knaves desire to live, for all he be a Roman :
and there be some of them too that die against
their wills ; so should I if I were one. I would
we were all of one mind, and one mind good ;
O, there were desolation of gaolers and gallowses!
I speak against my present profit ; but my wish
hath a preferment in 't. [Exit.
SCENE V. BRITAIN. CYMBELINE'S Tent.
Enter CYMBELINE, BELARIUS, GUIDERIUS,
ARVIRAGUS, PISANIO, Lords, Officers, and
Attendants.
Cym. Stand by my side, you whom the gods
have made
Preservers of my throne. Woe is my heart
That the poor soldier that so richly fought,
Whose rags sham'd gilded arms, whose naked
breast
Stepp'd before targes of proof, cannot be found :
He shall be happy that can find him, if
Our grace can make him so.
Bel. I never saw
Such noble fury in so poor a thing ;
Such precious deeds in one that promis'd naught
But beggary and poor looks.
Cym. No tidings of him ?
Pis. He hath been search'd among the dead
and living,
But no trace of him.
Cym. To my grief, I am
The heir of his reward, which I will add
To you, the liver, heart, and brain of Britain,
['lo BEL., GUI., and ARV.
By whom I grant she lives. 'Tis now the time
To ask of whence you are : report it.
Bel. Sir,
In Cambria are we born, and gentlemen :
Further to boast were neither true nor modest,
Unless I add we are honest.
Cym. Bow your knees.
Arise my knights o' the battle : I create you
Companions to our person, and will fit you
With dignities becoming your estates.
Enter CORNELRJS and Ladies.
There's business in these faces. Why so sadly
Greet you our victory? you look like Romans,
And not o' the court of Britain.
Cor. Hail, great king !
To sour your happiness, I must report
The queen is dead.
Cym, Who worse than a physician
Would this report become ? But I consider
By medicine life may be prolong'd, yet death
Will seize the doctor too. How ended she ?
Cor. With horror, madly dying, like her life ;
Which, being cruel to the world, concluded
Most cruel to herself. What she confess'd
I will report, so please you : these her women
Can trip me if I err ; who with wet cheeks
Were present when she finish'd.
Cym. Pr'ythee, say.
Cor. First, she confess'd she never lov'd you ;
only
Affected greatness got by you, not you :
Married your royalty, was wife to your place ;
Abhorr'd your person.
Cym. She alone knew this ;
And but she spoke it dying, I would not
Believe her lips in opening it. Proceed.
Cor. Your daughter, whom she bore in hand
to love
With such integrity, she did confess
Was as a scorpion to her sight ; whose life,
But that her flight prevented it, she had
Ta'en off by poison.
Cym. O most delicate fiend !
Who is 't can read a woman? Is there more ?
Cor. More, sir, and worse. She did confess
she had
For you a mortal mineral ; which, being took,
Should by the minutefeed on life, and, lingering,
By inches waste you : in which time she pur-
pos'd,
By watching, weeping, tendance, kissing, to
O'ercome you with her show ; and in time,
When she had fitted you with her craft, to work
964
CYMBELINE.
[ACT v.
Her son into the adoption of the crown :
But, failing of her end by his strange absence,
Grew shameless-desperate ; open'd, in despite
Of heaven and men, her purposes ; repented
The evils she hatch'd were not effected ; so,
Despairing, died.
Cym. Heard you all this, her women?
I Lady. We did, so please your highness.
Cym. Mine eyes
Were not in fault, for she was beautiful ;
Mine ears, that heard her flattery ; nor my heart
That thought her like her seeming; it had been
vicious
To have mistrusted her : yet, O my daughter !
That it was folly in me thou mayst say,
And prove it in thy feeling. Heaven mend all !
Enter Lucius, IACHIMO, the Soothsayer, and
other Roman Prisoners, guarded; POSTHU-
MUS behind^ and IMOGEN.
Thou com'st not, Caius, now for tribute ; that
The Britons have raz'd out, though with the
loss [suit
Of many a bold one, whose kinsmen have made
That their good souls may be appeas'd with
slaughter [granted :
Of you their captives, which ourself have
So, think of your estate. [day
Luc. Consider, sir, the chance of war: the
Was yours by accident ; had it gone with us
We should not, when the blood was cool, have
threaten'd
Our prisoners with the sword. But since the
gods
Will have it thus, that nothing but our lives
May be call'd ransom, let it come: sufficeth
A Roman with a Roman's heart can suffer :
Augustus lives to think on't: and so much
For my peculiar care. This one thing only
I will entreat; my boy, a Briton born,
Let him be ransom'd : never master had
A page so kind, so duteous, diligent,
So tender over his occasions, true,
So foat, so nurse-like : let his virtue join
With my request, which I'll make bold
highness
Cannot d jay ; he hath done no Briton harm
Though he have serv'd a Roman: save him, sir,
And spare no blood beside.
Cym. I have surely seen him :
His favour is familiar to me.
Boy, thou hast look'd thyself into my grace,
And art mine own. I know not why nor
wherefore
To say live, boy : ne'er thank thy master ; live :
And ask of Cymbeline what boon thou wilt,
Fitting my bounty and thy state, I '11 give it:
your
Yea, though thou do demand a prisoner,
The noblest ta'en.
Into. I humbly thank your highness.
Luc. I do not bid thee beg my life, good lad ;
And yet I know thou wilt.
Imo. No, no: alack,
There 's other work in hand : I see a thing
Bitter to me as death : your life, good master,
Must shuffle for itself.
Luc. The boy disdains me,
He leaves me, scorns me : briefly die their joys
That place them on the truth of girls and
boys.
Why stands he so perplex'd?
Cym. What wouldst thou, boy?
I love thee more and more: think more and
more [on? speak,
What 's best to ask. Know'st him thou look'st
Wilt have him live? Is he thy kin? thy friend?
Imo. He is a Roman ; no more kin to me
Than I to your highness ; who, being born your
vassal,
Am something nearer.
Cym. Wherefore ey'st him so?
Imo. I '11 tell you, sir, in private, if you please
To give me hearing.
Cym. Ay, with all my heart,
And lend my best attention. What 's thy name F
Imo. Fidele, sir.
Cym. Thou 'rt my good youth, my page ;
I '11 be thy master : walk with me ; speak freely.
[CYM. and IMO. converse apart.
Bel. Is not this boy reviv'd from death?
Arv. One sand another
Not more resembles that sweet rosy lad
Who died, and was Fidele. What think you?
Gui. The same dead thing alive.
Bel. Peace, peace ! see further ; he eyes us
not ; forbear ;
Creatures may be alike : were 't he, I am sure
He would have spoke to us.
Gui. But we saw him dead.
Bel. Be silent ; let 's see further.
Pis. [Aside.'} It is my mistress :
Since she is living, let the time run on
To good or bad.
[CYM. andlwo. come forward.
Cym. Come, stand thou by our side ;
Make thy demand aloud. [To IACH.] Sir,
step you forth ;
Give answer to this boy, and do it freely ;
Or, by our greatness and the grace of it,
Which is our honour, bitter torture shall
Winnow the truth from falsehood. On, speak
to him. [render
Imo. My boon is that this gentleman may
Of whom he had this ring.
SCENE V.]
CYMBELINE.
965
Post. [Aside.} What 's that to him ?
Cym. That diamond upon your finger, say,
How came it yours ? [that
lack. Thou 'It torture me to leave unspoken
Which to be spoke would torture thee.
Cym. How ! me ?
loch. I am glad to be constrain'd to utter
that which
Torments me to conceal. By villany
I got this ring : 'twas Leonatus' jewel,
Whom thou didst banish ; and, which more
may grieve thee,
As it doth me, a nobler sir ne'er liv'd
'Twixt sky and ground. Wilt thou hear more,
my lord ?
Cym. All that belongs to this.
lack. That paragon, thy daughter,
For whom my heart drops blood, and my false
spirits
Quail to remember, Give me leave ; I faint.
Cym. My daughter! what of her? Renew
thy strength :
I had rather thou shouldst live while nature will
Than die ere I hear more : strive, man, and
speak.
loch. Upon a time, unhappy was the clock
That struck the hour ! it was in Rome,
accurs'd [would
The mansion where! 'twas at a feast, O,
Our viands had been poison'd, or at least
Those which I heav'd to head ! the good
Posthumus,
What should I say? he was too good to be
Where ill men were ; and was the best of all
Amongst the rar'st of good ones, sitting sadly,
Hearing us praise our loves of Italy
For beauty that made barren the swell'd boast
Of him that best could speak ; for feature laming
The shrine of Venus, or straight-pight Minerva,
Postures beyond brief nature ; for condition,
A shop of all the qualities that man
Loves woman for ; besides that hook of wiving,
Fairness which strikes the eye,
Cym. I stand on fire :
Come to the matter.
lack. All too soon I shall,
Unless thou wouldst grieve quickly. This
Posthumus,
Most like a noble lord in love, and one
That had a royal lover, took his hint ;
And not dispraising whom we prais'd, therein
He was as calm as virtue, he began
His mistress' picture ; which by his tongue being
made,
And then a mind put in 't, either our brags
Were crack'd of kitchen trulls, or his description
Prov'd us unspeaking sots.
Cym. Nay, nay, to the purpose.
lack. Your daughter's chastity there it
begins.
He spake of her as Dian had hot dreams
And she alone were cold : whereat I, wretch,
Made scruple of his praise ; and wager'd with
him
Pieces of gold, 'gainst this, which then he wore
Upon his honour'd finger, to attain
In suit the place of 's bed, and win this ring
By hers and mine adultery : he, true knight,
No lesser of her honour confident
Than I did truly find her, stakes this ring ;
And would so, had it been a carbuncle
Of Phcebus' wheel ; and might so safely, had
it
Been all the worth of 's car. Away to Britain
Post I in this design. Well may you, sir,
Remember me at court, where I was taught
Of your chaste daughter the wide difference
'Twixt amorous and villanous. Being thus
quench'd
Of hope, not longing, mine Italian brain
'Gan in your duller Britain operate
Most vilely, for my vantage excellent ;
And, to be brief, my practice so prevail'd
That I retum'd with simular proof enough
To make the noble Leonatus mad,
By wounding his belief in her renown
With tokens thus and thus ; averring notes
Of chamber-hanging, pictures, this her brace-
let,
cunning how I got it ! nay, some marks
Of secret on her person, that he could not
But think her bond of chastity quite crack'd,
1 having ta'en the forfeit. Whereupon,
Methinks I see him now,
Post. [Coming fat-ward.] Ay, so thou dost,
Italian fiend ! Ah me, most credulous fool,
Egregious murderer, thief, anything
That 's due to all the villains past, in being,
To come ! O, give me cord, or knife, or poison,
Some upright justicer ! Thou, king, send out
For torturers ingenious : it is I
That all the abhorred things o' the earth amend
By being worse than they. I am Posthumus,
That kill'd thy daughter: villain-like, I lie,
That caus'd a lesser villain than myself,
A sacrilegious thief, to do 't : the temple
Of virtue was she ; yea, and she herself.
Spit, and throw stones, cast mire upon me, set
The dogs o' the street to bay me : every villain
Be call'd Posthumus Leonatus ; and
Be villany less than 'twas ! O Imogen !
My queen, my life, my wife ! O Imogen,
Imogen, Imogen !
Into. Peace, my lord ; hear, hear,
966
CYMBELINE.
[ACT v.
Post. Shall 's have a play of this ? Thou
scornful page^
There lie thy part. [Striking- her : she falls.
Pis. O, gentlemen, help! [mus!
Mine and your mistress ! O, my lord Posthu-
Youne'erkill'd Imogen till now. Help, help!
Mine honour'd lady !
Cym. Does the world go round?
Post. How come these staggers on me?
Pis. Wake, my mistress !
Cym. If this be so, the gods do mean to
strike me
To death with mortal joy.
Pis. How fares my mistress?
Into. O, get thee from my sight ;
Thou gav'st me poison: dangerous fellow,
hence !
Breathe not where princes are.
Cym. The tune of Imogen.
Pis. Lady,
The gods throw stones of sulphur on me if
That box I gave you was not thought by me
A precious thing : I had it from the queen.
Cym. New matter still?
Imo. It poison'd me.
Cor. O gods !
I left out one thing which the queen confess'd,
Which must approve thee honest: If Pisanio
Have, said she, given his mistress that confection
Which I gave him for cordial, she is serv'd
As I -would serve a rat.
Cym. What's this, Cornelius?
Cor. The queen, sir, very oft importun'd me
To temper poisons for her ; still pretending
The satisfaction of her knowledge only
In killing creatures vile, as cats and dogs,
Of no esteem: I, dreading that her purpose
Was of more danger, did compound for her
A certain stuff, which, being ta'en, would cease
The present power of life ; but in short time
All offices of nature should again
Do their due functions. Have you ta'en of it?
Imo. Most like I did, for I was dead.
Bel. My boys,
There was our error.
Gui. This is sure Fidele.
Imo. Why did you throw your wedded lady
from you?
Think that you are upon a rock ; and now
Throw me again. {Embracing him.
Post. Hang there like fruit, my soul,
Till the tree die !
Cym. How now, my flesh, my child !
What, mak'st thou me a dullard in this act?
Wilt thou not speak to me?
lino. Your blessing, sir.
[Kneeling.
Bel. Though you did love this youth, I
blame ye not;
You had a motive for it.
[To GUIDERIUS and ARVIRAGDS.
Cym. My tears that fall
Prove holy water on thee ! Imogen,
Thy mother 's dead.
Imo. I am sorry for 't, my lord
Cym. O, she was naught ; and long of her
it was
That we meet here so strangely: but her son
Is gone, we know not how nor where.
Pis. My lord,
Now fear is from me, I '11 speak troth. Lord
Cloten,
Upon my lady's missing, came to me
With his sword drawn ; foam'd at the mouth,
and swore,
If I discover'd not which way she was gone,
It was my instant death. By accident
I had a feigned letter of my master's
Then in my pocket ; which directed him
To seek her on the mountains near to Milford ;
Where, in a frenzy, in my master's garments,
Which he enforc'd from me, away he posts
With unchaste purpose, and with oath to violate
My lady's honour : what became of him
I further know not.
Gui. Let me end the story :
I slew him there.
Cym. Marry, the gods forfend !
I would not thy good deeds should from my lips
Pluck a hard sentence : pr ythee, valiant youth,
Deny 't again.
G^t^. I have spoke it, and I did it.
Cym. He was a prince. [me
Gui. A most incivil one : the wrongs he did
Were nothing prince-like ; for he did provoke me
With language that would make me spurn the sea,
If it could so roar to me : I cut off's head ;
And am right glad he is not standing here
To tell this tale of mine.
Cym. I am sorry for thee :
By thine own tongue thou art condemn'd, and
must
Endure our law : thou 'rt dead.
Imo. That headless man
I thought had been my lord.
Cym. Bind the offender,
And take him from our presence.
Bel. Stay, sir king :
This man is better than the man he slew,
As well descended as thyself ; and hath
More of thee merited than a band of Clotens
Had ever scar for. Let his arms alone ;
[To the Guard.
They were not born for bondage.
SCENE V.]
CYMBELINE.
967
Cynt. Why, old soldier,
Wilt thou undo the worth thou art unpaid for
By tasting of our wrath? How of descent
As good as we ?
Arv. In that he spake too far.
Cym. And thou shalt die for 't.
Bel. We will die all three :
But I will prove that two on 's are as good
As I have given out him. My sons, I must,
For mine own part, unfold a dangerous speech,
Though, haply, well for you.
Arv. Your danger 's
Ours.
Gut. And our good his.
Bel. Have at it, then !
By leave, thou hadst, great king, a subject who
Was call'd Belarius.
Cym. What of him ? he is
A banish'd traitor.
Bel. He it is that hath
Assum'd this age : indeed, a banish'd man ;
I know not how a traitor.
Cym. Take him hence :
The whole world shall not save him.
Bel. Not too hot :
First pay me for the nursing of thy sons ;
And let it be confiscate all so soon,
As I have receiv'd it.
Cym. Nursing of my sons !
Be^ I am too blunt and saucy : here 's my
knee:
Ere I arise I will prefer my sons ;
Then spare not the old father. Mighty sir,
These twoyoung gentlemen, that call me father,
And think they are my sons, are none of mine;
They are the issue of your loins, my liege,
And blood of your begetting.
Cym. How ! my issue !
Bel. So sure as you your father's. I, old
Morgan,
Am that Belarius whom you sometime banish'd :
Your pleasure was my mere offence, my punish-
ment
Itself, and all my treason ; that I suffer'd
Was all the harm I did. These gentle princes,
For such and so they are, these twenty years
Have I train'd up : those arts they have as I
Could put into them ; my breeding, was, sir, as
Your highness knows. Their nurse, Euriphile,
Whom for the theft I wedded, stole these children
Upon my banishment : I mov'd her to 't ;
Having receiv'd the punishment before
For that which I did then : beaten for loyalty
Excited me to treason : their dear loss,
The more of you 'twas felt, the more it shap'd
Unto my end of stealing them. But, gracious sir,
Here are your sons again ; and I must lose
Two of the sweet'st companions in the world :
The benediction of these covering heavens
Fall on their heads like dew ! for they are worthy
To inlay heaven with stars.
Cym. Thou weep'st, and speak'st.
The service that you three have done is more
Unlike than this thou tell'st. I lost my children:
If these be they, 1 know not how to wish
A pair of worthier sons.
Bel. Be pleas'd awhile.-
This gentleman, whom I call Polydore,
Most worthy prince, as yours, is true Guiderius :
This gentleman, my Cadwal, Arviragus,
Your younger princely son ; he, sir, was lapp'd
In a most curious mantle, wrought by the hand
Of his queen mother, which, for more probation,
I can with ease produce.
Cym. Guiderius had
Upon his neck a mole, a sanguine star ;
It was a mark of wonder.
Bel. This is he ;
Who hath upon him still that natural stamp :
It was wise nature's end in the donation,
To be his evidence now.
Cym. O, what, am I
A mother to the birth of three ? Ne'er mother
Rejoic'd deliverance more. Bless'dmayyou be,
That, after this strange starting from your orbs,
You may reign in them now ! O Imogen,
Thou hast lost by this a kingdom.
Imo. No, my lord ;
I have got two worlds by't. O my gentle
brothers,
Have we thus met ? O, never say hereafter
But I am truest speaker : you call'd me brother
When I was but your sister j I you brothers
When you were so indeed.
Cym. Did you e'er meet?
Arv. Ay, my good lord.
Gui. And at first meeting lov'd ;
Continued so until we thought he died.
Cor. By the queen's dram she swallow'd.
Cym. O rare instinct !
When shall I hear all through? This fierce
abridgment
Hath to it circumstantial branches, which
Distinction should be rich in. Where? how
liv'd you ?
And when came you to serve our Roman captive?
How parted with your brothers ? how first met
them ? [These,
Why fled you from the court? and whither?
And your three motives to the battle, with
I know not how much more, should be de-
manded ;
And all the other by-dependencies, [place
From chance to chance : but nor the time nor
968
CYMBELINE.
[ACT v.
See,
Will serve our long inter'gatories.
Posthumus anchors upon Imogen ; [eye
And she, like harmless lightning, throws her
On him, her brothers, me, her master ; hitting
Each object with a joy : the counterchange
Is severally in all. Let's quit this ground,
And smoke the temple with our sacrifices.
Thou art my brother ; so we '11 hold thee ever.
[T0 BELARIUS.
Imo. You are my father too; and did relieve me,
To see this gracious season.
Cym. All o'erjoy'd,
Save these in bonds : let them be joyful too,
For they shall taste our comfort.
Into. My good master,
I will yet do you service.
Luc. Happy be you !
Cym. The forlorn soldier, thatsonoblyfought,
He would have well becom'd this place, and
grac'd
The thankings of a king.
Post. I am, sir,
The soldier that did company these three
In poor beseeming ; 'twas a fitment for
The purpose I then follow'd. That I was he,
Speak, lachimo : I had you down, and might
Have made you finish.
loch. I am down again : [Kneeling.
But now my heavy conscience sinks my knee,
As then your force did. Take that life, beseech
you,
Which I so often owe : but your ring first ;
And here the bracelet of the truest princess
That ever swore her faith.
Post. Kneel not to me :
The power that I have on you is to spare you ;
The malice towards you to forgive you : live,
And deal with others better.
Cym. Nobly doom'd !
We '11 learn our freeness of a son-in-law ;
Pardon 's the word to all.
Arv. You holp us, sir,
As you did mean indeed to be our brother ;
Joy'd are we that you are. [of Rome,
Post. Your servant, princes. Good my lord
Call forth your soothsayer: as I slept, me-
thought
Great Jupiter, upon his eagle back,
Appear'd to me, with other spritely shows
Of mine own kindred : when I wak'd I found
This label on my bosom ; whose containing
Is so from sense in hardness that I can
Make no collection of it : let him show
His skill in the construction.
Luc, Philarmonus,
Sooth. Here, my good lord.
Luc. Read, and declare the meaning.
Sooth. {Reads. ] Whenas a lion's whelp shall,
to himself unknown, without seeking find, and
be embraced by a piece of tender air ; and when
from a stately cedar shall be lopped branches,
which, being dead many years, shall after re-
vive, be jointed to the old stock, and freshly
grow ; then shall Posthumus end his miseries,
Britain be fortunate, and flourish in peace and
plenty.
Thou, Leonatus, art the lion's whelp ;
The fit and apt construction of thy name,
Being Leo-natus, doth import so much :
The piece of tender air, thy virtuous daughter,
\To CYMBELIKE.
Which we call mollis aer ; and mollis aer
We term it mulier : which mulier I divine
Is this most constant wife ; who even now,
Answering the letter of the oracle,
Unknown to you, unsought, were clipp'd about
With this most tender air.
Cym. This hath some seeming.
Sooth. The lofty cedar, royal Cymbeline,
Personates thee : and thy lopp'd branches point
Thy two sons forth, who, by Belarius stol'n,
For many years thought dead, are now reviv'd,
To the majestic cedar join'd ; whose issue
Promises Britain peace and plenty.
Cym. Well,
By peace we will begin : and, Caius Lucius,
Although the victor, we submit to Caesar,
And to the Roman empire j promising
To pay our wonted tribute, from the which
We were dissuaded by our wicked queen ;
Whom heavens, injustice both on her and hers,
Have laid most heavy hand.
Sooth. The fingers of the powers above do tune
The harmony of this peace. The vision,
Which I made known to Lucius ere the stroke
Of this yet scarce-cold battle, at this instant,
Is full accomplish'd ; for the Roman eagle,
From south to west on wing soaring aloft,
Lessen'd herself, and in the beams o' the sun
So vanish'd : which foreshow'd our princely eagle,
The imperial Caesar, should again unite
His favour with the radiant Cymbeline,
Which shines here in the west.
Cym. Laud we the gods ;
And let our crooked smokesclimbtotheirnostrils
From our bless d altars. Publish we this peace
To all our subjects. Set we forward : let
A Roman and a British ensign wave
Friendly together: so through Lud's town march:
And in the temple of great Jupiter
Our peace we 'it ratify ; seal it with feasts.
Set on there ! Never was a war did cease,
Ere bloody hands were wash'd, with such a
peace. \Exeunt.
TITUS ANDRONICUS
PERSONS REPRESENTED.
SATURNINUS, Son to the late Emperor of Rome,
and afterwards declared Emperor.
BASSIANUS, Brother to SATURNINUS, in love
with LAVINIA.
TITUS ANDRONICUS, a noble Roman, General
against the Goths.
MARCUS ANDRONICUS, Tribune of the People,
and Brother to TITUS.
Lucius,
MARCUS' Som to TlTUS ANDR ONICUS.
MUTIUS,
YOUNG Lucius, a Boy, Son to Lucius.
PUBLICS, Son to MARCUS the Tribune.
, a noble Roman.
ALARBUS, )
DEMETRIUS, > Sons to TAMORA.
CHIRON, )
AARON, a Moor, beloved by TAMORA.
A Captain, Tribune, Messenger, and Clown,-
Romans.
Goths and Romans.
TAMORA, Queen of the Goths.
LAVINIA, Daughter to TITUS ANDRONICUS.
A Nurse, and a black Child.
Kinsmen of TlTUS, Senators, Tribunes, Officers,
Soldiers, and Attendants.
SCENE, ROME, and the Country near it.
ACT I.
SCENE I. ROME. Before the Capitol.
The Tomb of the ANDRONICI appearing ; the
Tribunes and Senators aloft. Enter, below,
SATURNINUS and his Followers on one side,
and BASSIANUS and his Followers on the
other, with drums and colours.
Sat. Noble patricians, patrons of my right,
Defend the justice of my cause with arms ;
And, countrymen, my loving followers,
Plead my successive title with your swords :
I am his first-born son that was the last
That wore the imperial diadem of Rome :
Then let my father's honours live in me,
Nor wrong mine age with this indignity.
Bas. Romans, friends, followers, favourers
of my right,
If ever Bassianus, Caesar's son,
Were gracious in the eyes of royal Rome,
Keep, then, this passage to the Capitol ;
And suffer not dishonour to approach
The imperial seat, to virtue consecrate,
To justice, continence, and nobility :
But let desert in pure election shine ;
And, Romans, fight for freedom in your choice.
Enter MARCUS ANDRONICUS aloft, with the
crown.
Marc. Princes, that strive by factions and
by friends
Ambitiously for rule and empery, [stand
Know that the people of Rome, for whom we
A special party, have by common voice,
In election for the Roman empery,
Chosen Andronicus, surnamed Pius
For many good and great deserts to Rome :
A nobler man, a braver warrior,
Lives not this day within the city walls :
He by the senate is accited home
From weary wars against the barbarous Goths ;
That, with his sons, a terror to our foes,
Hath yok'd a nation strong, train'd up in arms.
Ten years are spent since first he undertook
This cause of Rome, and chastised with arms
Our enemies' pride : five times he hath return 'd
Bleeding to Rome, bearing his valiant sons
In coffins from the field ;
And now at last, laden with honour's spoils,
Returns the good Andronicus to Rome,
Renowned Titus, flourishing in arms.
Let us entreat, by honour of his name
Whom worthily you would have now succeed,
And in the Capitol and senate's right,
Whom you pretend to honour and adore,
That you withdraw you, and abate your strength ;
Dismiss your followers, and, as suitors should,
Plead your deserts in peace and humbleness.
Sat. How fair the tribune speaks to calm my
thoughts !
Bas. Marcus Andronicus, so I do affy
In thy uprightness and integrity,
And so I love and honour thee and thine,
970
TITUS ANDRONICUS.
[ACT f .
Thy noble brother Titus and his sons,
And her to whom my thoughts are humbled all,
Gracious Lavinia, Rome's rich ornament,
That I will here dismiss my loving friends ;
And to my fortunes and the people's favour
Commit my cause in balance to be weigh'd.
[Exeunt the Followers ofBAS.
Sat. Friends, that have been thus forward in
my right,
I thank you all, and here dismiss you all ;
And to the love and favour of my country
Commit myself, my person, and the cause.
[Exezmt the Followers 0/SAT.
Rome, be as just and gracious unto me
As I am confident and kind to thee.
Open the gates, tribunes, and let me in.
Bas. Tribunes, and me, a poor competitor.
[Flourish. Exeunt ; SAT. and BAS. go ^lp
into the Capitol.
Enter a Captain.
Cap. Romans, make way. The good An-
dronicus,
Patron of virtue, Rome's best champion,
Successful in the battles that he fights,
With honour and with fortune is return'd
From where he circumscribed with his sword,
And brought to yoke, the enemies of Rome.
Flourish of trumpets, &*c. Enter MARTI us
and MUTIUS ; after them two Men bearing
a coffin covered with black ; then LUCIUS and
QUINTUS. After them TITUS ANDRONICUS ;
and then TAMORA, with ALARBUS, DEME-
TRIUS, CHIRON, AARON, and other Goths,
prisoners ; Soldiers and People following.
The bearers set down the coffin, and TITUS
Tit. Hail, Rome, victorious in thy mourning
weeds !
Lo, as the bark that hath discharg'd her fraught
Returns with precious lading to the bay
From whence at first she weigh'd her anchorage,
Cometh Andronicus, bound with laurel boughs,
To re-salute his country with his tears,
Tears of true joy for his return to Rome.
Thou great defender of this Capitol,
Stand gracious to the rites that we intend!
Romans, of five-and-twenty valiant sons,
Half of the number that King Priam had,
Behold the poor remains, alive and dead !
These that survive let Rome reward with love ;
These that I bring unto their latest home,
With burial amongst their ancestors :
Here Goths have given me leave to sheathe my
sword.
Titus, unkind, and careless of thine own,
Why suffer'st thou thy sons, unburied yet,
To hover on the dreadful shore of Styx ?
Make way to lay them by their brethren.
\The tomb is opened.
There greet in silence, as the dead are wont,
And sleep in peace, slain in your country'swars !
O sacred receptacle of my joys,
Sweet cell of virtue and nobility,
How many sons of mine hast thou in store,
That thou wilt never render to me more !
Luc. Give us the proudest prisoner of the
Goths,
That we may hew his limbs, and on a pile
Ad manes fratrum sacrifice his flesh
Before this earthly prison of their bones ;
That so the shadows be not unappeas'd,
Nor we disturb'd with prodigies on earth.
Tit. I give him you, the noblest that sur-
vives,
The eldest son of this distressed queen.
Tarn. Stay, Roman brethren ! Gracious
conqueror,
Victorious Titus, rue the tears I shed,
A mother's tears in passion for her son :
And if thy sons were ever dear to thee,
O, think my son to be as dear to me !
Sufficeth not that we are brought to Rome,
To beautify thy triumphs and return,
Captive to thee and to thy Roman yoke ;
But must my sons be slaughter'd in the streets
For valiant doings in their country's cause ?
O, if to fight for king and common weal
Were piety in thine, it is in these.
Andronicus, stain not thy tomb with blood :
Wilt thou draw near the nature of the gods ?
Draw near them, then, in being merciful :
Sweet mercy is nobility's true badge :
Thrice-noble Titus, spare my first-born son.
Tit. Patient yourself, madam, and pardon me.
These are their brethren, whom you Goths
beheld
Alive and dead ; and for their brethren slain
Religiously they ask a sacrifice :
To this your son is mark'd ; and die he must,
To appease their groaning shadows that are gone.
Luc. Away with him ! and make a fire
straight ;
And with our swords, upon a pile of wood
Let 'shew his limbs till they be clean consum'd.
[Exeunt Luc. , QUIN., MARC., awt/MuT.,
with ALARBUS.
Tarn. O cruel, irreligious piety !
Chi. Was ever Scythia half so barbarous ?
Dem. Oppose not Scythia to ambitious Rome.
Alarbus goes to rest ; and we survive
To tremble under Titus' threatening looks.
Then, madam, stand resolv'd j but hope withal
SCENE I.]
TITUS ANDRONICUS.
971
The self-same gods that arm'd the Queen of
Troy
With opportunity of sharp revenge
Upon the Thracian tyrant in his tent,
May favour Tamora, the queen of Goths,
When Goths were Goths and Tamora was
queen,
To quit the bloody wrongs upon her foes.
Re-enter Lucius, QUINTUS, MARTIUS, and
MUTIUS, with their swords bloody.
Lite. See, lord and father, how we have
perform'd
Our Roman rites : Alarbus' limbs are lopp'd,
And entrails feed the sacrificing fire,
Whose smoke like incense doth perfume the sky.
Remaineth naught but to inter our brethren,
And with loud 'larums welcome them to Rome.
Tit. Let it be so, and let Andronicus
Make this his latest farewell to their souls.
[ Trumpets sounded and the coffinlaidinthetomb.
In peace and honour rest you here, my sons ;
Rome's readiest champions, repose you here in
rest,
Secure from worldly chances and mishaps !
Here lurks no treason, here no envy swells,
Here grow no damned grudges ; here are no
storms,
No noise, but silence and eternal sleep :
Enter LAVINIA.
In peace and honour rest you here, my sons !
Lav. In peace and honour live Lord Titus
long;
My noble lord and father, live in fame !
Lo, at this tomb my tributary tears
I render for my brethren's obsequies ;
And at thy feet I kneel, with tears of joy
Shed on the earth for thy return to Rome :
O, bless me here with thy victorious hand,
Whose fortunes Rome's best citizens applaud !
Tit. Kind Rome, that hast thus lovingly
reserv'd
The cordial of mine age to glad my heart !
Lavinia, live ; outlive thy father's days,
And fame's eternal date, for virtue's praise !
Enter t below, MARCUS ANDRONICUS and Tri-
bunes ; re-enter SATURNINUS, BASSIANUS,
and Attendants.
Marc. Long live Lord Titus, my beloved
brother, '
Gracious triumpher in the eyes of Rome !
Tit. Thanks, gentle tribune, noble brother
Marcus. [ful wars,
Marc. And welcome, nephews, from success-
You that survive and you that sleep in fame !
Fair lords, your fortunes are alike in all,
That in your country's service drew your swords:
But safer triumph is this funeral pomp
That hath aspir'd to Solon's happiness,
And triumphs over chance in honour's bed.
Titus Andronicus, the people of Rome,
Whose friend in justice thou hast ever been,
Send thee by me, their tribune and their trust,
This palliament of white and spotless hue ;
And name thee in election for the empire
With these our late-deceased emperor's sons:
Be candidatus, then, and put it on,
And help to set a head on headless Rome.
Tit. A better head her glorious body fits
Than his that shakes for age and feebleness :
What, should I don this robe and trouble you?
Be chosen with proclamations to-day,
To-morrow yield up rule, resign my life,
And set abroach new business for you all?
Rome, I have been thy soldier forty years,
And led my country's strength successfully,
And buried one-and-twenty valiant sons,
Knighted in field, slain manfully in arms,
In right and service of their noble country :
Give me a staff of honour for mine age,
But not a sceptre to control the world :
Upright he held it, lords, that held it last.
Marc. Titus, thou shalt obtain and ask the
err.pery. [tell?
Sat. Proud and ambitious tribune, canst thou
Tit. Patience, Prince Saturninus.
Sat. Romans, do me right;
Patricians, draw your swords, and sheathe them
not
Till Saturninus be Rome's emperor.
Andronicus, would thou wert shipp'd to hell
Rather than rob me of the people's hearts !
Luc. Proud Saturnine, interrupter of the good
That noble-minded Titus means to thee !
Tit. Content thee, prince; I will restore to
thee [selves.
The people's hearts, and wean them from them
Bos. Andronicus, I do not natter thee,
But honour thee, and will do till I die*
My faction if thou strengthen with thy friends,
I will most thankful be ; and thanks to men
Of noble minds is honourable meed. [here,
Tit. People of Rome, and people's tribunes
I ask your voices and your suffrages :
Will you bestow them friendly on Andronicus?
Trib. To gratify the good Andronicus,
And gratulate his safe return to Rome,
The people will accept whom he admits.
Tit. Tribunes, I thank you : and this suit I
make,
That you create your emperor's eldest son,
Lord, Saturnine ; whose virtues will, I hope,
972
TITUS ANDRONICUS.
[ACT i.
Reflect on Rome as Titan's rays on earth,
And ripen justice in this commonweal :
Then, if you will elect by my advice,
Crown him, and say, Long live our emperor!
Marc. With voices and applause of every
sort,
Patricians and plebeians, we create
Lord Saturninus Rome's great emperor ;
And say, Long live our emperor Saturnine !
[A long flourish.
Sat. Titus Andronicus, for thy favours done
To us in our election this day
I give thee thanks in part of thy deserts,
And will with deeds requite thy gentleness ;
And for an onset, Titus, to advance
Thy name and honourable family,
Lavinia will I make my empress,
Rome's royal mistress, mistress of my heart,
And in the sacred Pantheon her espouse :
Tell me, Andronicus, doth this motion please
thee? [match
Tit. It doth, my worthy lord; and in this
I hold me highly honour' d of your grace :
And here, in sight of Rome, to Saturnine,
King and commander of our commonweal,
The wide world's emperor, do I consecrate
My sword, my chariot, and my prisoners;
Presents well worthy Rome's imperial lord :
Receive them, then, the tribute that I owe,
Mine honour's ensigns humbled at thy feet.
Sat. Thanks, noble Titus, father of my life !
How proud I am of thee and of thy gifts
Rome shall record ; and when I do forget
The least of these unspeakable deserts,
Romans, forget your fealty to me.
Tit. [To TAMORA.] Now, madam, are you
prisoner to an emperor ;
To him that for your honour and your state
Will use you nobly and your followers.
Sat. A goodly lady, trust me ; of the hue
That I would choose were I to choose anew.
Clear up, fair queen, that cloudy countenance :
Though chance of war hath wrought this change
of cheer,
Thou com'st not to be made a scorn in Rome :
Princely shall be thy usage every way.
Rest on my word, and let not discontent
Daunt all your hopes: madam, he comforts
you
Can make you greater than the Queen of
Goths.
Lavinia, you are not displeas'd with this?
Lav. Not I, my lord ; sith true nobility
Warrants these words in princely courtesy.
Sat. Thanks, sweet Lavinia. Romans, let
us go:
Ransomless here we set our prisoners free :
Proclaim our honours, lords, with trump and
drum.
[Flourish. SAT. courts TAMORA in
dtimb show.
Bas. Lord Titus, by your leave, this maid is
mine. [Seizing LAVINIA.
Tit. How, sir ! are you in earnest, then, my
lord?
Bas. Ay, noble Titus ; and resolv'd withal
To do myself this reason and this right.
Marc. Suum cuique is our Roman justice:
This prince in justice seizeth but his own.
Luc. And that he will and shall, if Lucius
live. [peror's guard?
Tit. Traitors, avaunt! Where is the em-
Treason, my lord, Lavinia is surpris'd !
Sat. Surpris'd ! by whom ?
Bas. By him that justly may
Bear his betroth'd from all the world away.
[Exeunt BAS. and MAR. with LAV.
Mut. Brothers, help to convey her hence
away,
And with my sword I '11 keep this door safe.
[Exeunt Luc., QUIN., and MAR.
Tit. Follow, my lord, and I '11 soon bring
her back.
Mut. My lord, you pass not here.
Tit. What, villain boy !
Barr'st me my way in Rome?
[Stabbing MUTIUS.
Mut. Help, Lucius, help!
[Dies.
Re-enter Lucius.
Luc. My lord, you are unjust; and more
than so,
In wrongful quarrel you have slain your son.
Tit. Nor thou nor he are any sons of mine ;
My sons would never so dishonour me :
Traitor, restore Lavinia to the emperor.
Luc. Dead, if you will ; but not to be his wife,
That is another's lawful promis'd love. [Exit.
Sat. No, Titus, no ; the emperor needs her
not,
Nor her, nor thee, nor any of thy stock :
I '11 trust by leisure him that mocks me once ;
Thee never, nor thy traitorous haughty sons,
Confederates all thus to dishonour me.
Was there none else in Rome to make a stale
But Saturnine? Full well, Andronicus,
Agree these deeds with that proud brag of thine,
That said'st I begg'd the empire at thy hands.
Tit. O monstrous ! what reproachful words
are these? [ing piece
Sat. But go thy ways ; go, give that chang-
To him that flourish'd for her with his sword :
A valiant son-in-law thou shalt enjoy;
SCENE I.]
TITUS ANDRONICUS.
973
One fit to bandy with thy lawless sons,
To ruffle in the commonwealth of Rome.
Tit. These words are razors to my wounded
heart. [Goths,
Sat, And therefore, lovely Tamora, Queen of
That, like the stately Phoebe 'mongst her
nymphs,
Dost overshine the gallant'st dames of Rome,
If thou be pleas'd with this my sudden choice,
Behold, I choose thee, Tamora, for my bride,
And will create thee empress of Rome.
Speak, Queen of Goths, dost thou applaud my
choice?
And here I swear by all the Roman gods,
Sith priest and holy water are so near,
And tapers burn so bright, and everything
In readiness for Hymemeus stand,
I will not re-salute the streets of Rome,
Or climb my palace, till from forth this place
I lead espous'd my bride along with me.
Tarn. And here, in sight of heaven, to Rome
I swear,
If Saturnine advance the Queen of Goths,
She will a handmaid be to his desires,
A loving nurse, a mother to his youth.
Sat- Ascend, fair queen, Pantheon. Lords,
accompany
Your noble emperor and his lovely bride,
Sent by the heavens for Prince Saturnine,
Whose wisdom hath her fortune conquered :
There shall we consummate our spousal rites.
\_Exeiint SAT. and his Followers ; TAM.
and her sons ; AARON and Goths.
Tit, I am not bid to wait upon this bride.
Titus, when wert thou wont to walk alone,
Dishonour'd thus, and challenged of wrongs?
Re-enter MARCUS, Lucius, QUINTUS, and
MARTI us.
Marc. O Titus, see, O see what thou hast
done !
In a bad quarrel slain a virtuous son.
Tit. No, foolish tribune, no; no son of
mine,
Nor thou, nor these, confederates in the deed
That hath dishonour'd all our family ;
Unworthy brother and unworthy sons !
Luc. But let us give him burial, as becomes;
Give Mutius burial with our brethren.
Tit. Traitors, away! he rests not in this
tomb :
This monument five hundred years hath stood,
Which I have sumptuously re-edified :
Here none but soldiers and Rome's servitors
Repose in fame ; none basely slain in brawls :
Bury him where you can, he comes not here.
Marc. My lord, this is impiety in you :
My nephew Mutius' deeds do plead for him ;
He must be buried with his brethren.
Quin. and Mart. And shall, or him we will
accompany. [that word?
Tit. And shall ! What villain was it spake
Quin. He that would vouch it in any place
but here. [spite?
Tit. What, would you bury him in my de-
Marc. No, noble Titus ; but entreat of thee
To pardon Mutius, and to bury him.
Tit. Marcus, even thou hast struck upon my
crest, [wounded :
And with these boys mine honour thou hast
My foes I do repute you every one ;
So trouble me no more, but get you gone.
Marc. He is not with himself; let us with-
draw.
Quin. Not I, till Mutius' bones be buried.
[MARCUS and the Sons of TITUS kneel.
Marc. Brother, for in that name doth nature
plead, [speak,
Quin. Father, and in that name doth nature
Tit. Speak thou no more, if all the rest will
speed.
Marc. Renowned Titus, more than half my
soul,
Luc. Dear father, soul and substance of us
all,
Marc. Suffer thy brother Marcus to inter
His noble nephew here in virtue's nest,
That died in honour and Lavinia's cause :
Thou art a Roman, be not barbarous.
The Greeks upon advice did bury Ajax,
That slew himself; and wise Laertes' son
Did graciously plead for his funerals :
Let not young Mutius, then, that was thy joy,
Be barr'd his entrance here.
Tit. Rise, Marcus, rise:
The dismall'st day is this that e'er I saw,
To be dishonour'd by my sons in Rome !
Well, bury him, and bury me the next.
[MuTius is put into the tomb.
Luc. There lie thy bones, sweet Mutius, with
thy friends,
Till we with trophies do adorn thy tomb.
All. [Kneeling.] No man shed tears for noble
Mutius ;
He lives in fame that died in virtue's cause.
Marc. My lord, to step out of these dreary
dumps,
How comes it that the subtle Queen of Goths
Is of a sudden thus advanc'd in Rome ?
Tit. I know not, Marcus ; but I know it is,
Whether by device or no, the heavens can tell :
Is she not, then, beholden to the man
That brought her for this high good turn so far ?
Marc. Yes, and will nobly him remunerate.
974
TITUS ANDRONICUS.
[ACT i.
Flourish. Re-enter, at one side, SATURNI-
NUS attended; TAMORA, DEMETRIUS, CHI-
RON, and AARON: at the other, BASSIANUS,
LAVINIA, and others.
Sat. So, Bassianus, you have play'd your
prize :
God give you joy, sir, of your gallant bride !
Bas. And you of yours, my lord ! I say no
more,
Nor wish no less ; and so I take my leave,
Sat. Traitor, if Rome have law or we have
power,
Thou and thy faction shall repent this rape.
Bas. Rape, call you it, my lord, to seize my
own,
My true-betrothed love, and now my wife ?
But let the laws of Rome determine all ;
Meanwhile I am possess'd of that is mine, [us ;
Sat. 'Tis good, sir : you are very short with
But if we live we '11 be as sharp with you.
Bas. My lord, what I have done, as best I
may,
Answer I must, and shall do with my life.
Only thus much I give your grace to know,
By all the duties that I owe to Rome,
This noble gentleman, Lord Titus here,
Is in opinion and in honour wrong'd,
That, in the rescue of Lavinia,
With his own hand did slay his youngest son,
In zeal to you, and highly mov'd to wrath
To be controll'd in that he frankly gave :
Receive him, then, to favour, Saturnine,
That hath express'd himself, in all his deeds,
A father and a friend to thee and Rome.
Tit. Prince Bassianus, leave to plead my
deeds :
'Tis thou and those that have dishonour' d me.
Rome and the righteous heavens be my judge
How I have lov'd and honour'd Saturnine !
Tarn. My worthy lord, if ever Tamora
Were gracious in those princely eyes of thine,
Then hear me speak indifferently for all ;
And at my suit, sweet, pardon what is past.
Sat. What, madam ! be dishonour'd openly,
And basely put it up without revenge ?
Tarn. Not so, my lord ; the gods of Rome
forfend
I should be author to dishonour you !
But on mine honour dare I undertake
For good Lord Titus' innocence in all,
Whose fury not dissembled speaks his griefs :
Then at my suit look graciously on him ;
Lose not so noble a friend on vain suppose,
Nor with sour looks afflict his gentle heart.
My lord, be rul'd by me, be won at last ;
[Aside.
Dissemble all your griefs and discontents :
You are but newly planted in your throne ;
Lest, then, the people and patricians too,
Upon a just survey, take Titus' part,
And so supplant you for ingratitude,
Which Rome reputes to be a heinous sin,
Yield at entreats ; and then let me alone :
I '11 find a day to massacre them all,
And raze their faction and their family,
The cruel father and his traitorous sons,
To whom I sued for my dear son's life ;
And make them know what 'tis to let a queen
Kneel in the streets and beg for grace in vain.
Come, come, sweet emperor, come, Androni-
cus,
Take up this good old man, and cheer the heart
That dies in tempest of thy angry frown.
Sat. Rise, Titus, rise ; my empress hath pre-
vail'd.
Tit. I thank your majesty and her, my lord :
These words, these looks, infuse new life in
me.
Tarn. Titus, I am incorporate in Rome,
A Roman now adopted happily,
And must advise the emperor 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 Bassianus, I have pass'd
My word and promise to the emperor
That you will be more mild and tractable.
And fear not, lords, and you, Lavinia,
By my advice, all humbled on your knees,
You shall ask pardon of his majesty.
Luc. We do ; and vow to heaven and to his
highness
That what we did was mildly as we might,
Tendering our sister's honour and our own.
Marc. That on mine honour here I do protest.
Sat. Away, and talk not ; trouble us no more.
Tarn. Nay, nay, sweet emperor, we must all
be friends :
The tribune and his nephews kneel for grace ;
I will not be denied : sweet heart, look back.
Sat. Marcus, for thy sake and thy brother's
here,
And at my lovely Tamora's entreats,
I do remit these young men's heinous faults :
Stand up.
Lavinia, though you left me like a churl,
I found a friend ; and sure as death I swore
I would not part a bachelor from the priest.
Come, if the emperor's court can feast two brides,
You are my guest, Lavinia, and your friends.
This day shall be a love-day, Tamora.
Tit. To-morrow, an it please your majesty
To hunt the panther and the hart with me,
SCENE I.]
TITUS ANDRONICUS.
975
With horn and hound we '11 give your grace bon-
jour.
Sat. Be it so, Titus, and gramercy too.
[Exeunt.
ACT II.
SCENE I. ROME. Before the Palace.
Enter AARON.
Aar. Now climbeth Tamora Olympus' top,
Safe out of fortune's shot ; and sits aloft,
Secure of thunder's crack or lightning's flash ;
Advanc'd above pale envy's threatening reach.
As when the golden sun salutes the morn,
And, having gilt the ocean with his beams,
Gallops the zodiac in his glistering coach,
And overlooks the highest-peering hill ;
So Tamora :
Upon her will doth earthly honour wait,
And virtue stoops and trembles at her frown.
Then, Aaron, arm thy heart and fit thy thoughts
To mount aloft with thy imperial mistress,
And mount her pitch, whom thou in triumph
long
Hast prisoner held, fetter'd in amorous chains,
And faster bound to Aaron's charming eyes
Than is Prometheus tied to Caucasus.
Away with slavish weeds and servile thoughts !
I will be bright, and shine in pearl and gold,
To wait upon this new-made empress.
To wait, said I ? to wanton with this queen,
This goddess, this Semiramis, this nymph,
This syren, that will charm Rome's Saturnine,
And see his shipwreck and his commonweal's,
Holla ! what storm is this ?
Enter DEMETRIUS and CHIRON braving.
Dem. Chiron, thy years want wit, thy wit
wants edge
And manners, to intrude where I am grac'd ;
And may, for aught thou know'st, affected be.
Chi. Demetrius, thou dost over-ween in all ;
And so in this, to bear me down with braves.
Tis not the difference of a year or two
Makes me less gracious or thee more fortunate :
1 am as able and as fit as thou
To serve and to deserve my mistress' grace ;
And that my sword upon thee shall approve,
And plead my passions for Lavinia's love.
Aar. [Aside.] Clubs, clubs ! these lovers
will not keep the peace.
Dem. Why, boy, although our mother,
unadvis'd,
Gave you a dancing-rapier by your side,
Are you so desperate grown to threat your
friends ?
Go to ; have your lath glu'd within your sheath
Till you know better how to handle it. [have,
Chi. Meanwhile, sir, with the little skill I
Full well shalt thou perceive how much I dare.
Dem. Ay, boy, grow ye so brave ?
[They draw.
Aar. [Coming forward.] Why, how now,
lords !
So near the emperor's palace dare you draw,
And maintain such a quarrel openly ?
Full well I wot the ground of all this grudge :
I would not for a million of gold
The cause were known to themitmost concerns ;
Nor would your noble mother for much more
Be so dishonour'd in the court of Rome.
For shame, put up.
Dem. Not I, till I have sheath'd
My rapier in his bosom, and withal
Thrust these reproachful speechesdown his throat
That he hath breath'd in my dishonour here.
Chi. For that I am prepar'd and full re-
sol v'd, [tongue,
Foul-spoken coward, that thunder's! with thy
And with thy weapon nothing dar'st perform.
Aar. Away, I say !
Now, by the gods that warlike Goths adore,
This petty brabble will undo us all.
Why, lords, and think you not how dangerous
It is to jet upon a prince's right ?
What, is Lavinia, then, become so loose,
Or Bassianus so degenerate,
That for her love such quarrels may be broach'd
Without controlment, justice, or revenge?
Young lords, beware 1 and should the empress
know [please.
This discord's ground, the music would not
Chi. I care not, I, knew she and all the
world :
I love Lavinia more than all the world.
Dem. Youngling, learn thou to make some
meaner choice :
Lavinia is thine elder brother's hope.
Aar. Why, are you mad ? or know ye not
in Rome
How furious and impatient they be,
And cannot brook competitors in love?
I tell you, lords, you do but plot your deaths
By this device.
Chi. Aaron, a thousand deaths
Would I propose to achieve her whom I love.
Aar. To achieve her ! How?
Dem. Why mak'st thou it so strange ?
She is a woman, therefore may be woo'd ;
She is a woman, therefore may be won ;
She is Lavinia, therefore must be lov'd.
What, man ! more water glideth by the mill
Than wots the miller of ; and easy it is
976
TITUS ANDRONICUS.
[ACT ii.
Of a cut loaf to steal a shive, we know :
Though Bassianus be the emperor's brother,
Better than he have worn Vulcan's badge.
Aar. [Aside.] Ay, and as good as Saturninus
may.
Dem. Then why should he despair that
knows to court it
With words, fair looks, and liberality?
What, hast not thou full often struck a doe,
And borne her cleanly by the keeper's nose ?
Aar. Why, then, it seems some certain snatch
or so
Would serve your turns.
Chi. Ay, so the turn were serv'd.
Dem. Aaron, thou hast hit it.
Aar. Would you had hit it too !
Then should not we be tir'd with this ado.
Why, hark ye, hark ye, and are you such fools
To square for this ? Would it offend you, then,
That both should speed ?
Chi. Faith, not me.
Dem. Nor me, so I were one.
Aar. For shame, be friends, and join for
that you jar :
'Tis policy and stratagem must do
That you affect ; and so must you resolve
That what you cannot as you would achieve,
You must perforce accomplish as you may.
Take this of me, Lucrece was not more chaste
Than this Lavinia, Bassianus' love.
A speedier course than lingering languishment
Must we pursue, and I have found the path.
My lords, a solemn hunting is in hand ;
There will the lovely Roman ladies troop :
The forest-walks are wide and spacious ;
And many unfrequented plots there are
Fitted by kind for rape and villany :
Single you thither, then, this dainty doe,
And strike her home by force if not by words :
This way, or not at all, stand you in hope.
Come, come, our empress, with her sacred wit
To villany and vengeance consecrate,
Will we acquaint with all that we intend ;
And she shall file our engines with advice
That will not suffer you to square yourselves,
But to your wishes' height advance you both.
The emperor's court is like the house of fame,
The palace full of tongues, of eyes, and ears :
The woods are ruthless, dreadful, deaf, and dull ;
There speak and strike, brave boys, and take
your turns ; [eye,
There serve your lust, shadow'd from heaven's
And revel in Lavinia's treasury.
Chi. Thy counsel, lad, smells of nocowardice.
Dem. Sit fas aut nefas, till I find the stream
To cool this heat, a charm to calm these fits,
Per Styga, per manes vehor. [Exeunt.
SCENE II. A Forest near Rome: a Lodge
seen at a distance. Horns and cry of hounds
heard.
Enter TITUS ANDRONICUS, with Hunters, &*c. 9
MARCUS, Lucius, QUINTUS, and MARTIUS.
Tit. The hunt is up, the morn is bright and
a y>
Thefieldsare fragrant, and the woods are green.
Uncouple here, and let us make a bay,
And wake the emperor and his lovely bride,
And rouse the prince, and ring a hunter's peal,
That all the court may echo with the noise.
Sons, let it be your charge, as it is ours,
To attend the emperor's person carefully :
I have been troubled in my sleep this night,
But dawning day new comfort hath inspir'd.
Horns -wind a peal. Enter SATURNINUS,
TAMORA, BASSIANUS, LAVINIA, DEME-
TRIUS, CHIRON, and Attendants.
Many good-morrows to your majesty;
Madam, to you as many and as good :
I promised your grace a hunter's peal.
Sat. And you have rung it lustily, my lord ;
Somewhat too early for new-married ladies.
Bas. Lavinia, how say you ?
Lav. I say no ;
I have been broad awake two hours and more.
Sat. Come on, then, horse and chariots let
us have,
And to our sport. [To TAMORA.] Madam,
now shall ye see
Our Roman hunting.
Marc. I have dogs, my lord,
Will rouse the proudest panther in the chase,
And climb the highest promontory top.
Tit. And I have horse will follow where the
game
Makes way, and run like swallows o'er the plain.
Dem. Chiron, we hunt not, we, with horse
nor hound,
But hope to pluck a dainty doe to ground.
[Exeunt.
SCENE III. A lonely part of the Forest.
Enter AARON with a bag of gold.
Aar. He that had wit would think that I
had none,
To bury so much gold under a tree,
And never after to inherit it.
Let him that thinks of me so abjectly
Know that this gold must coin a stratagem,
Which, cunningly effected, will beget
SCENE III.]
TITUS ANDRONICUS.
977
A. very excellent piece of villany :
And so repose, sweet gold, for their unrest
{Hides the gold.
That have their alms out of the empress' chest.
Enter TAMORA.
Tarn. My lovely Aaron, wherefore look'st
thou sad
When everything doth make a gleeful boast ?
The birds chant melody on every bush ;
The snake lies rolled in the cheerful sun ;
The green leaves quiver with the cooling wind,
And make a chequer'd shadow on the ground :
Under their sweet shade, Aaron, let us sit,
And, whilst the babbling echo mocks the hounds,
Replying shrilly to the well-tun'd horns,
As if a double hunt were heard at once,
Let us sit down and mark their yelping noise ;
And, after conflict such as was suppos'd
The wandering prince and Dido once enjoy'd,
When with a happy storm they were surpris'd,
And curtain'd with a counsel -keeping cave,
We may, each wreathed in the other's arms,
Our pastimes done, possess a golden slumber ;
Whiles hounds and horns and sweet melodious
birds
Be unto us as is a nurse's song
Of lullaby to bring her babe asleep.
Aar. Madam, though Venus govern your
desires,
Saturn is dominator over mine :
What signifies my deadly-standing eye,
My silence and my cloudy melancholy,
My fleece of woolly hair that now uncurls
Even as an adder when she doth unroll
To do some fatal execution ?
No, madam, these are no venereal signs,
Vengeance is in my heart, death in my hand,
Blood and revenge are hammering in my head.
Hark, Tamora, the empress of my soul,
Which never hopes more heaven than rests in
thee,
This is the day of doom for Bassianus :
His Philomel must lose her tongue to-day;
Thy sons make pillage of her chastity,
And wash their hands in Bassianus' blood.
Seest thou this letter? take it up, I pray thee,
And give the king this fatal-plotted scroll.
Now question me no more, we are espied ;
Here comes a parcel of our hopeful booty,
Which dreads not yet their lives' destruction.
Tarn. Ah, my sweet Moor, sweeter to me
than life ! [comes :
Aar. No more, great empress, Bassianus
Be cross with him ; and I '11 go fetch thy sons
To back thy quarrels, whatsoe'er they be.
[Exit.
Enter BASSIANUS and LAVINIA.
as. Who have we here? Rome's royal
empress,
Unfurnish'd of her well -beseeming troop?
Or is it Dian, habited like her,
Who hath abandoned her holy groves
To see the general hunting in this forest ?
Tarn. Saucy controller of our private steps !
Had I the power that some say Dian had,
Thy temples should be planted presently
With horns, as was Actseon's ; and the hounds
Should drive upon thy new-transformed limbs,
Unmannerly intruder as thou art !
Lav. Under your patience, gentle empress,
'Tis thought you have a goodly gift in horning ;
And to be doubted that your Moor and you
Are singled forth to try experiments : [day !
Jove shield your husband from his hounds to-
'Tis pity they should take him for a stag.
Bas. Believe me, queen, your swarth Cim-
merian
Doth make your honour of his body's hue,
Spotted, detested, and abominable.
Why are you sequester'd from all your train,
Dismounted from your snow-white goodly steed.
And wander'd hither to an obscure plot,
Accompanied but with a barbarous Moor,
If toul desire had not conducted you ?
Lav. And, being intercepted in your sport,
Great reason that my noble lord be rated
For sauciness. I pray you, let us hence,
And let her joy her raven-colour'd love ;
This valley fits the purpose passing welL
Bas. The king my brother shall have note of
this. [noted long :
Lav. Ay, for these slips have made him
Good king, to be so mightily abus'd !
Tarn. Why have I patience to endure all this?
Enter DEMETRIUS and CHIRON.
Dem. How now, dear sovereign, and our
gracious mother !
Why doth your highness look so pale and wan ?
Tarn. Have I not reason, think you, to look
pale?
These two have 'tic'd me hither to this place :
A barren detested vale you see it is ;
The trees, though summer, yet forlorn and lean,
O'ercome with moss and baleful mistletoe :
Here never shines the sun ; here nothing breeds.
Unless the nightly owl or fatal raven :
And when they show'd me this abhorred pit
They told me, here at dead time of the night
A thousand fiends, a thousand hissing snakes,
Ten thousand swelling toads, as many urchins,
Would make such fearful and confused cries
978
TITUS ANDRONICUS.
[ACT ii.
As any mortal body hearing it
Should straight fall mad or else die suddenly.
No sooner had they told this hellish tale
But straight they told me they would bind me
here
Unto the body of a dismal yew,
And leave me to this miserable death :
And then they call'd me foul adulteress,
Lascivious Goth, and all the bitterest terms
That ever ear did hear to such effect :
And had you not by wondrous fortune come,
This vengeance on me had they executed.
Revenge it, as you love your mother's life,
Or be ye not henceforth call'd my children.
Dem. This is a witness that I am thy son.
\Stabs BASSIANUS.
Chi. And this for me, struck home to show
my strength.
[Also stabs BAS. , who dies.
Lav. Ay, come, Semiramis, nay, barbarous
Tamora,
For no name fits thy nature but thy own !
Tarn. Give me thy poniard ; you shall
know, my boys, [wrong.
Your mother's hand shall right your mother's
Dem. Stay, madam ; here is more belongs
to her ; [straw :
First thrash the corn, then after burn the
This minion stood upon her chastity,
Upon her nuptial vow, her loyalty, [ness :
And with that painted hope braves your mighti-
And shall she carry this unto her grave ?
Chi. An if she do, I would I were an eunuch.
Drag hence her husband to some secret hole,
And make his dead trunk pillow to our lust.
Tarn. But when ye have the honey ye desire,
Let not this wasp outlive, us both to sting.
Chi. I warrant you, madam, we will make
that sure.
Come, mistress, now perforce we will enjoy
That nice-preserved honesty of yours, [face,
Lav. O Tamora ! thou bear'st a woman's
Tarn. I will not hear her speak ; away with
her ! [a word.
Lav. Sweet lords, entreat her hear me but
Dent. Listen, fair madam: let it be your
glory
To see her tears ; but be your heart to them
As unrelenting flint to drops of rain, [the dam ?
Lav. When did the tiger's young ones teach
O, do not learn her wrath, she taught it thee;
The milk thou suck'dst from her did turn to
marble ;
Even at thy teat thou hadst thy tyranny.
Yet every mother breeds not sons alike :
PO thou entreat her show a woman pity.
{To CHIRON.
Chi. What, wouldst thou have me prove
myself a bastard ? [lark :
Lav. 'Tis true, the raven doth not hatch a
Yet I have heard, O, could I find it now !
The lion, mov'd with pity, did endure
To have his princely paws par'd all away :
Some say that ravens foster forlorn children,
The whilst their own birds famish in their nests:
O, be to me, though thy hard heart say no,
Nothing so kind, but something pitiful !
Tarn. I know not what it means : away with
her!
Lav. O, let me teach thee ! for my father's
sake,
That gave thee life, when well he might have
slain thee,
Be not obdurate, open thy deaf ears.
Tarn. Hadst thou in person ne'er offended me,
Even for his sake am I pitiless.
Remember, boys, I pour'd forth tears in vain
To save your brother from the sacrifice ;
But fierce Andronicus would not relent :
Therefore away with her. and use her as you
will;
The worse to her the better lov'd of me.
Lav. O Tamora, be call'd a gentle queen,
And with thine own hands kill me in this place !
For 'tis not life that I have begg'd so long ;
Poor I was slain when Bassianus died.
Tarn. What begg'st thou, then? fond woman,
let me go.
Lav. 'Tis present death I beg ; and one thing
more,
That womanhood denies my tongue to tell :
O, keep me from their worse than killing lust,
And tumble me into some loathsome pit,
Where never man's eye may behold my body :
Do this, and be a charitable murderer. [fee :
Tarn. So should I rob my sweet sons of their
No, let them satisfy their lust on thee. [long.
Dem. Away 1 for thou hast stay'd us here too
Lav. No grace? no womanhood? Ah,
beastly creature !
The blot and enemy to our general name !
Confusion fall,
Chi. Nay, then I '11 stop your mouth : bring
thou her husband :
This is the hole where Aaron bid us hide him.
[DEM. throws BAS.'S body into the pit ; then
exit with CHI., dragging off LAV.
Tarn. Farewell, my sons: see that you make
her sure :
Ne'er let my heart know merry cheer indeed
Till all the Andronici be made away.
Now will I hence to seek my lovely Moor,
And let my spleenful sons this trull deflower.
IE**.
SCENE III.]
TITUS ANDRONICUS.
979
Re-enter AARON, with QUINTUS and
MARTI us.
Aar. Come on, my lords, the better foot
before :
Straight will I bring you to the loathsome pit
Where I espied the panther fast asleep.
Qttin. My sight is very dull, whate'er it bodes.
Mart. And mine, I promise you ; were 't not
for shame,
Well could I leave our sport to sleep awhile.
[Falls into the pit.
Quin. What, art thou fallen? What subtle
hole is this, [briers,
Whose mouth is cover'd with rude-growing
Upon whose leaves are drops of new-shed blood
As fresh as morning's dew distill'd on flowers ?
A very fatal place it seems to me. [fall?
Speak, brother, hast thou hurt thee with the
Mart. O brother, with the dismallest object
hurt
That ever eye with sight made heart lament !
Aar. [Aside.} Now will I fetch the king to
find them here,
That he thereby may give a likely guess
How these were they that made away his
brother. [Exit.
Mart. Why dost not comfort me, and help
me out
From this unhallow'd and blood-stained hole?
Quin. I am surprised with an uncouth fear ;
A chilling sweat o'er-runs my trembling joints ;
My heart suspects more than mine eye can see.
Mart. To prove thou hast a true divining
heart,
Aaron and thou look down into this den,
And see a fearful sight of blood and death.
Quin. Aaron is gone ; a'.id my compassionate
heart
Will not permit mine eyes once to behold
The thing whereat it trembles by surmise :
O, tell me how it is ; for ne'er till now
Was I a child to fear I know not what.
Mart. Lord Bassianus lies embrewed here,
All on a heap, like to a slaughter'd lamb,
In this detested, dark, blood-drinking pit.
Qiiin. If it be dark, how dost thou know
'tis he?
Mart. Upon his bloody finger he doth wear
A precious ring that lightens all the hole,
Which, like a taper in some monument,
Doth shine upon the dead man's earthy cheeks,
And shows the ragged entrails of the pit :
So pale did shine the moon on Pyramus
When he by night lay bath'd in maiden blood.
O brother, help me with thy fainting hand,
If fear hath made thee faint, as me it hath,
Out of this fell devouring receptacle,
As hateful as Cocytus' misty mouth.
Qidn. Reach me thy hand, that I may help
thee out ;
Or, wanting strength to do thee so much good,
I may be pluck'd into the swallowing womb
Of this deep pit, poor Bassianus' grave.
I have no strength to pluck thee to the brink.
Mart. Nor I no strength to climb without
thy help. [again,
Quin. Thy hand once more ; I will not lose
Till thou art here aloft, or I below :
Thou canst not come to me, I come to thee.
[Falls in.
. Enter SATURNINUS with AARON.
Sat. Along with me : I '11 see what hole is
here,
And what he is that now is leap'd into it.
Say, who art thou that lately didst descend
Into this gaping hollow of the earth ?
Mart. The unhappy son of old Andronicus,
Brought hither in a most unlucky hour,
To find thy brother Bassianus dead. [jest :
Sat. My brother dead ! I know thou dost but
He and his lady both are at the lodge
Upon the north side of this pleasant chase ;
'Tis not an hour since I left him there.
Mart. We know not where you left him all
alive ;
But, out, alas ! here have we found him dead.
Re-enter TAMORA, with Attendants ; TITUS
ANDRONICUS and Lucius.
Tarn. Where is my lord the king ?
Sat. Here, Tamora ; though griev'd with kill-
ing grief.
Tarn. Where is thy brother Bassianus ?
Sat. Now to the bottom dost thou search my
wound :
Poor Bassianus here lies murdered.
Tarn. Then all too late I bring this fatal writ,
[Giving a letter.
The complot of this timeless tragedy ;
And wonder greatly that man's face can fold
In pleasing smiles such murderous tyranny.
Sat. [Reads.} An if we miss to meet him
handsomely,
Sweet huntsman, Bassianus "'tis we mean,
Do thou so much as dig the grave for him :
Thou know'st our meaning. Look for thy reward
Among the nettles at the elder tree
Which over shades the mouth of that same pit
Where we decreed to bury Bassianus.
Do this, and purchase us thy lasting friends.
O Tamora ! was ever heard the like ?
This is the pit and this the elder tree :
9 8o
TITUS ANDRONICUS.
[ACT n.
Look, sirs, if you can find the huntsman out
That should have murder'd Bassianus here.
Aar. My gracious lord, here is the bag of gold.
[Showing it.
Sat. [To TITUS.] Two of thy whelps, fell curs
of bloody kind,
Have here bereft my brother of his life.
Sirs, drag them from the pit unto the prison :
There let them bide until we have devis'd
Some never-heard-of torturing pain for them.
Tarn. What, are they in this pit? O wondrous
thing !
How easily murder is discovered !
Tit. High emperor, upon my feeble knee
I beg this boon, with tears not lightly shed,
That this fell fault of my accursed sons,
Accursed if the fault be prov'd in them,
Sat. If it be prov'd ! you see it is apparent.
Who found this letter ? Tamora, was it you ?
Tarn. Andronicus himself did take it up.
Tit. I did, my lord : yet let me be their bail ;
For, by my father's reverend tomb, I vow
They shall be ready at your highness' will
To answer their suspicion with their lives.
Sat. Thou shah not bail them : see thou follow
me. [murderers :
Some bring the murder'd body, some the
Let them not speak a word, the guilt is plain;
For, by my soul, were there worse end than death,
That end upon them should be executed.
Tarn. Andronicus, I will entreat the king :
Fear not thy sons ; they shall do well enough.
Tit. Come, Lucius, come ; stay not to talk
with them.
[Exeunt severally. Attendants bearing the body.
SCENE IV. Another part of the Forest.
Enter DEMETRIUS and CHI RON, with LAVINIA
ravished ; her hands cut off, and her tongue
cut out.
Dem. So, now go tell, and if thy tongue can
speak,
Who 'twas that cut thy tongue and ravish'd thee.
Chi. Write down thy mind, bewray thy mean-
ing so,
And if thy stumps will let thee play the scribe.
Dem. See, how with signs and tokens she can
scrowl. [hands.
Chi. Go home, call for sweet water, wash thy
Dem. She hath no tongue to call, nor hands
to wash ;
And so let 's leave her to her silent walks.
Chi. An 'twere my case I should go hang
myself. [the cord.
Dem. If thou hadst hands to help thee knit
[Exeunt DEM. and CHI.
Enter MARCUS.
Marc. Who is this, my niece, that flies
away so fast ?
Cousin, a word ; where is your husband ?
If I do dream, would all my wealth would
wake me !
If I do wake, some planet strike me down,
That I may slumber in eternal sleep !
Speak, gentle niece, what stern ungentle
hands [bare
Have lopp'd, and hew'd, and made thy body
Of her two branches, those sweet ornaments
Whose circling shadows kings have sought to
sleep in,
And might not gain so great a happiness
As have thy love ? Why dost not speak to me?
Alas, a crimson river of warm blood,
Like to a bubbling fountain stirr'd with wind,
Doth rise and fall between thy rosed lips,
Coming and going with thy honeyed breath.
But sure some Tereus hath deflowered thee,
And lest thou shouldst detect him, cut thy
tongue.
Ah, now thou turn'st away thy face for shame J
And notwithstanding all this loss of blood,
As from a conduit with three issuing spouts,
Yet do thy cheeks look red as Titan's face
Blushing to be encounter'd with a cloud.
Shall I speak for thee? shall I say 'tis so ?
O, that I knew thy heart, and knew the beast,
That I might rail at him, to ease my mind !
Sorrow concealed, like an oven stopp'd,
Doth burn the heart to cinders where it is.
Fair Philomela, she but lost her tongue,
And in a tedious sampler sew'd her mind :
But, lovely niece, that mean is cut from thee ;
A craftier Tereus, cousin, hast thou met,
And he hath cut those pretty fingers off
That could have better sew'd than Philomel.
O, had the monster seen those lily hands
Tremble, like aspen leaves, upon a lute,
And make the silken strings delight to kiss
them, [life !
He would not then have touch'd them for his
Or had he heard the heavenly harmony
Which that sweet tongue hath made,
He would have dropp'd his knife, and fell asleep
As Cerberus at the Thracian poet's feet.
Come, let us go, and make thy father blind ;
For such a sight will blind a father's eye :
One hour's storm will drown the fragrant meads
What will whole months of tears thy father's
eyes?
Do not draw back, for we will mourn with thee :
O, could our mourning ease thy misery !
[Exeunt.
SCENE I.]
TITUS ANDRONICUS.
981
ACT III.
SCENE I. ROME. A Street.
Enter Senators, Tribunes, a/z^Officers of Justice,
-with MARTI us a/ QUINTUS bound, passing
on to the place of execution ; TlTUS going
before \ pleading.
Tit. Hear me, grave fathers ! noble tribunes,
stay !
For pity of mine age, whose youth was spent
In dangerous wars, whilst you securely slept ;
For all my blood in Rome's great quarrel shed ;
For all the frosty nights that I have watch'd ;
And for these bitter tears, which now you see
Filling the aged wrinkles in my cheeks ;
Be pitiful to my condemned sons,
Whose souls are not corrupted as 'tis thought.
For two-and-twenty sons I never wept,
Because they died in honour's lofty bed.
For these, good tribunes, in the dust I write
{Throwing himself on the ground.
My heart's deep languor and my soul's sad tears :
Let my tears stanch the earth's dry appetite ;
My sons' sweet blood will make it shame and
blush.
{Exeunt Sen., Trib., &c., with the prisoners.
O earth, I will befriend thee more with rain,
That shall distil from these two ancient ruins,
Than youthful April shall with all his showers:
In summer's drought I '11 drop upon thee still ;
In winter, with warm tears I '11 melt the snow,
And keep eternal spring-time on thy face,
So thou refuse to drink my dear sons' blood.
Enter Lucius -with his s-word drawn.
O reverend tribunes ! O gentle aged men !
Unbind my sons, reverse the doom of death ;
And let me say, that never wept before,
My tears are now prevailing orators.
Luc. O noble father, you lament in vain :
The tribunes hear you not, no man is by ;
And you recount your sorrows to a stone.
Tit. Ah, Lucius, for thy brothers let me
plead.
Grave tribunes, once more I entreat of you.
Luc. My gracious lord, no tribune hears you
speak. [hear
Tit. Why, 'tis no matter, man : if they did
They would not mark me ; or if they did mark
They would not pity me ; yet plead I must,
And bootless unto them.
Therefore I tell my sorrows to the stones ;
Why, though they cannot answer my distress,
Yet in some sort they are better than the
tribunes,
For that they will not intercept my tale :
When I do weep they humbly at my feet
Receive my tears, and seem to weep with me ;
And were they but attired in grave weeds
Rome could afford no tribune like to these.
A stone is soft as wax, tribunes more hard than
stones ;
A stone is silent, and offendeth not,
And tribunes with their tongues doom men
to death. {Rises.
But wherefore stard'st thou with thy weapon
drawn? [death :
Luc. To rescue my two brothers from their
For which attempt the judges have pronounc'd
My everlasting doom of banishment.
Tit. O happy man ! they have befriended
thee.
Why, foolish Lucius, dost thou not perceive
That Rome is but a wilderness 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 here?
Enter MARCUS and LAVINIA.
Marc. Titus, prepare thy aged eyes to weep;
Or if not so, thy noble heart to break :
I bring consuming sorrow to thine age.
Tit. Will it consume me ? let me see it then.
Marc. This was thy daughter.
Tit. Why, Marcus, so she is.
Luc. Ay me ! this object kills me ! [her.
Tit. Faint-hearted boy, arise, and look upon
Speak, my Lavinia, what accursed hand
Hath made thee handless in thy father's sight ?
What fool hath added water to the sea,
Or brought a fagot to bright-burning Troy?
My grief was at the height before thou cam'st ;
And now, like Nilus, it disdaineth bounds.
Give me a sword, I '11 chop off my hands too ;
For they have fought for Rome, and all in vain ;
And they have nurs'd this woe in feeding life ;
In bootless prayer have they been held up,
And they have serv'd me to effectless use :
Now all the service I require of them
Is that the one will help to cut the other.
'Tis well, Lavinia, that thou hast no hands ;
For hands, to do Rome service, are but vain.
Luc. Speak, gentle sister, who hath martyr'd
thee?
Marc. O,that delightful engine ofher thoughts,
That blabb'd them with such pleasing eloquence,
Is torn from forth that pretty hollow cage,
Where, like a sweet melodious bird, it sung
Sweet varied notes, enchanting every ear !
Luc. O, say thou for her, who hath done thia
deed?
TITUS ANDRONICUS.
[ACT in.
Marc. O, thus I found her, straying in the
park,
Seeking to hide herself, as doth the deer
That hath receiv'd some unrecuring wound.
Tit. It was my deer ; and he that wounded
her
Hath hurt me more than had he kill'd me dead :
For now I stand as one upon a rock,
Eaviron'd with a wilderness of sea ;
Who marks the waxing tide grow wave by wave,
Expecting ever when some envious surge
Will in his brinish bowels swallow him.
This way to death my wretched sons are gone ;
Here stands my other son, a banish'd man ;
And here my brother, weeping at my woes :
But that which gives my soul the greatest spurn
Is dear Lavinia, dearer than my soul.
Had I but seen thy picture in this plight
It would have madded me : what shall I do
Now I behold thy lively body so ?
Thou hast no hands to wipe away thy tears,
Nor tongue to tell me who hath martyr'd thee :
Thy husband he is dead ; and for his death
Thy brothers are condemn'd, and dead by this.
Look, Marcus ! ah, son Lucius, look on her !
When I did name her brothers, then fresh tears
Stood on her cheeks, as doth the honey dew
Upon a gather'd lily almost wither'd.
Marc. Perchance she weeps because they
kill'd her husband :
Perchance because she knows them innocent.
Tit. If they did kill thy husband, then be
joyful,
the lau
Because the law hath ta'en revenge on them.
No, no, they would not do so foul a deed ;
Witness the sorrow that their sister makes.
Gentle Lavinia, let me kiss thy lips ;
Or make some sign how I may do thee ease :
Shall thy good uncle, and thy brother Lucius,
And thou, and I, sit round about some fountain,
Looking all downwards, to behold our cheeks
How they are stain'd, as meadows, yet not dry,
With miry slime left on them by a flood ?
And in the fountain shall we gaze so long,
Till the fresh taste be taken from that clearness,
And made a brine-pit with our bitter tears ?
Or shall we cut away our hands like thine ?
Or shall we bite our tongues, and in dumb shows
Pass the remainder of our hateful days ?
What shall we do? let us, that have our tongues,
Plot some device of further misery,
To make us wonder'd at in time to come.
Luc. Sweet father, cease your tears ; for at
your grief
See how my wretched sister sobs and weeps.
Marc. Patience, dear niece. Good Titus,
dry thine eyes.
Tit. Ah, Marcus, Marcus! brother, well I wot
Thy napkin cannot drink a tear of mine,
For thou, poor man, hast drown'd it with thine
own.
Luc. Ah, my Lavinia, I will wipe thy cheeks.
Tit. Mark, Marcus, mark ! I understand her
signs:
Had she a tongue to speak, now would she
say
That to her brother which I said to thee :
His napkin, with his true tears all bewet,
Can do no service on her sorrowful cheeks.
O, what a sympathy of woe is this,
As far from help as limbo is from bliss !
Enter AARON.
Aar. Titus Andronicus, my lord the emperor
Sends thee this word, that if thou love thy sons,
Let Marcus, Lucius, or thyself, old Titus,
Or any one of you, chop off your hand
And send it to the king : he for the same
Will send thee hither both thy sons alive ;
And that shall be the ransom for their fault.
Tit. O gracious emperor ! O gentle Aaron !
Did ever raven sing so like a lark
That gives sweet tidings of the sun's uprise ?
With all my heart I "11 send the emperor
My hand :
Good Aaron, wilt thou help to chop it off?
Luc. Stay, father ! for that noble hand of
thine,
That hath thrown down so many enemies,
Shall not be sent : my hand will serve the turn :
My youth can better spare my blood than you ;
And therefore mine shall save my brothers' lives.
Marc. Which of your hands hath not defended
Rome,
And rear'd aloft the bloody battle-axe,
Writing destruction on the enemy's castle ?
O, none of both but are of high desert :
My hand hath been but idle ; let it serve
To ransom my two nephews from their death ;
Then have I kept it to a worthy end.
Aar. Nay, come, agree whose hand shall
go along,
For fear they die before their pardon come.
Marc. My hand shall go.
Luc. By heaven, it shall not go !
Tit. Sirs, strive no more : such wither'd herbs
as these
Are meet for plucking up, and therefore mine.
L^^c. Sweet father, if I shall be thought thy
son,
Let me redeem my brothers both from death.^
Marc. And for our father's sake and mother's
care,
Now let me show a brother's love to thee.
SCENE I.]
TITUS ANDRONICUS.
983
Tit. Agree between you ; I will spare my
hand.
Luc. Then I'll go fetch an axe.
Marc. But I will use the axe.
{Exeunt Lucius and MARCUS.
Tit. Come hither, Aaron ; I 'li deceive them
both:
Lend me thy hand, and I will give thee mine.
Aar. [Aside.} If that be call'd deceit, I will
be honest,
And never whilst I live deceive men so :
But I '11 deceive you in another sort,
And that you '11 say ere half an hour pass.
[He cuts off TITUS'S hand.
Re-enter Lucius and MARCUS.
Tit. Now stay your strife : what shall be is
despatch'd.
Good Aaron, give his majesty my hand :
Tell him it was a hand that warded him
From thousand dangers ; bid him bury it j
More hath it merited, that let it have.
As for my sons, say I account of them
As jewels purchas'd at an easy price ;
And yet dear too, because I bought mine own.
Aar. I go, Andronicus : and for thy hand
Look by and by to have thy sons with thee :
Their heads I mean. O, how this villany
[Aside.
Doth fat me with the very thoughts of it !
Let fools do good, and fair men call for grace,
Aaron will have his soul black like his face.
[Exit.
Tit. O, here I lift this one hand up to heaven,
And bow this feeble ruin to the earth :
If any power pities wretched tears,
To that I call ! [To LAVINIA.] What, wilt
thou kneel with me ?
Do, then, dear heart ; for heaven shall hear
our prayers ;
Or with our sighs we '11 breathe the welkin dim,
And stain the sun with fog, as sometime clouds
When they do hug him in their melting bosoms.
Marc. O brother, speak with possibilities,
And do not break into these deep extremes.
Tit. Is not my sorrow deep, having no
bottom ?
Then be my passions bottomless with them.
Marc. But yet let reason govern thy lament.
Tit.^ If there were reason for these miseries,
Then into limits could I bind my woes :
When heaven doth weep, doth not the earth
o'erflow ?
If the winds rage, doth not the sea wax mad,
Threatening the welkin with his big-swoln face?
And wilt thou have a reason for this coil ?
I am the sea ; hark, how her sighs do flow I
She is the weeping welkin, I the earth :
Then must my sea be moved with her sighs ;
Then must my earth with her continual tears
Become a deluge, overflow'd and drown'd :
For why my bowels cannot hide her woes,
But like a drunkard must I vomit them.
Then give me leave ; for losers will have leave
To ease their stomachs with their bitter tongues.
Enter a Messenger, with two heads and a hand.
Mess. Worthy Andronicus, ill art thou repaid
For that good hand thou sent'st the emperor.
Here are the heads of thy two noble sons ;
And here's thy hand, in scorn to thee sent
back,
Thy griefs their sports, thy resolution mock'd :
That woe is me to think upon thy woes,
More than remembrance of my father's death.
[Exit.
Marc. Now let hot yEtna cool in Sicily,
And be my heart an ever-burning hell !
These miseries are more than may be borne.
To weep with them that weep doth ease some
deal ;
But sorrow flouted at is double death.
Luc. Ah, that this sight should make so deep
a wound,
And yet detested life not shrink thereat !
That ever death should let life bear his name,
Where life hath no more interest but to breathe !
[LAVINIA kisses him.
Marc. Alas, poor heart, that kiss is comfort-
less
As frozen water to a starved snake. [end ?
Tit. When will this fearful slumber have an
Marc. Now, farewell, flattery: die, Androni-
cus ; [heads,
Thou dost not slumber : see thy two sons'
Thy warlike hand, thy mangled daughter here ;
Thy other banish'd son, with this dear sight
Struck pale and bloodless ; and thy brother, I,
Even like a stony image, cold and numb.
Ah ! now no more will I control thy griefs :
Rent off thy silver hair, thy other hand
Gnawing with thy teeth ; and be this dismal
sight
The closing up of our most wretched eyes :
Now is a time to storm ; why art thou still ?
Tit. Ha, ha, ha ! [this hour.
Marc. Why dost thou laugh ? it fits not with
Tit. Why, I have not another tear to shed ;
Besides, this sorrow is an enemy,
And would usurp upon my watery eyes,
And make them blind with tributary tears :
Then which way shall I find revenge's cave ?
For these two heads do seem to speak to me,
And threat me I shall never come to bliss
TITUS ANDRONICUS.
[ACT in.
Till all these mischiefs be return'd again
Even in their throats that have committed them.
Come, let me see what task I have to do.
You heavy people circle me about,
That I may turn me to each one of you,
And swear unto my soul to right your wrongs.
The vow is made. Come, brother, take a
head;
And in this hand the other will I bear.
Lavinia, thou shalt be employ'd in these things ;
Bear thou my hand, sweet wench, between thy
teeth.
As for thee, boy, go, get thee from my sight ;
Thou art an exile, and thou must not stay :
Hie to the Goths, and raise an army there :
And if you love me, as I think you do,
Let 's kiss and part, for we have much to do.
[Exeunt TITUS, MARCUS, and LAVINIA.
Luc. Farewell, Andronicus, my noble
father,
The woefull'st man that ever liv'd in Rome :
Farewell, proud Rome ; till Lucius come again,
He leaves his pledges dearer than his life :
Farewell, Lavinia, my noble sister ;
O, would thou wert as thou 'tofore hast been !
But now nor Lucius nor Lavinia lives
But in oblivion and hateful griefs.
If Lucius live, he will requite your wrongs,
And make proud Saturnine and his empress
Beg at the gates, like Tarquin and his queen.
Now will I to the Goths, and raise a power
To be reveng'd on Rome and Saturnine.
[Exit.
SCENE II. ROME. A Room in TITUS'S House.
A Banquet set out.
Enter TITUS, MARCUS, LAVINIA, ZW/YOUNG
Lucius, a boy.
Tit. So, so ; now sit : and look you eat no
more
Than will preserve just so much strength in us
As will revenge these bitter woes of ours.
Marcus, unknit that sorrow- wreathen knot :
Thy niece and I, poor creatures, want our hands,
And cannot passionate our tenfold grief
With folded arms. This poor right hand of
mine
Is left to tyrannize upon my breast ;
And when my heart, all mad with misery,
Beats in this hollow prison of my flesh,
Then thus I thump it down.
Thou map of woe, that thus dost talk in signs !
[To LAVINIA.
When thy poor heart beats with outrageous
beating,
Thou canst not strike it thus to make it still.
Wound it with sighing, girl ; kill it with groans ;
Or get some little knife between thy teeth,
And just against thy heart make thou a hole,
That all the tears that thy poor eyes let fall
May run into that sink, and, soaking in,
Drown the lamenting fool in sea-salt tears.
Marc. Fie, brother, fie ! teach her not thus
to lay
Such violent hands upon her tender life.
Tit. How now ! has sorrow made thee dote
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 ^Eneas tell the tale twice o'er
How Troy was burnt and he made miserable?
O, handle not the theme, to talk of hands,
Lest we remember still that we have none.
Fie, fie, how frantically I square my talk,
As if we should forget we had no hands,
If Marcus did not name the word of hands !
Come, let's fall to; and, gentle girl, eat this.
Here is no drink! Hark, Marcus, what she
says ;
I can interpret all her martyr'd signs ;
She says she drinks no other drink but tears,
Brew'd with her sorrow, mesh'd upon her
cheeks :
Speechless complainer, I will learn thy thought ;
In thy dumb action will I be as perfect
As begging hermits in their holy prayers:
Thou shalt not sigh, nor hold thy stumps to
heaven,
Nor wink, nor nod, nor kneel, nor make a sign,
But I of these will wrest an alphabet, [ing.
And by still practice learn to know thy mean-
Y. Luc. Good grandsire, leave these bitter
deep laments:
Make my aunt merry with some pleasing tale.
Marc. Alas, the tender boy, in passion mov'd,
Doth weep to see his grandsire's heaviness.
Tit. Peace, tender sapling ; thou art made of
tears,
And tears will quickly melt thy life away.
[MARCUS strikes the dish with a knife.
What dost thou strike at, Marcus, with thy
knife?
Marc. At that that I have kill'd, my lord,
a fly.
Tit. Out on thee, murderer ! thou kill'st my
heart ;
Mine eyes are cloy'd with view of tyranny :
A deed of death done on the innocent
Becomes not Titus' brother : get thee gone ;
I see thou art not for my company.
Marc. Alas, my lord, I have but kill'd a fly.
SCENE II.]
TITUS ANDRONICUS.
985
Tit. But how if that fly had a father and
mother?
How would he hang his slender gilded wings,
And buzz lamenting doings in the air !
Poor harmless fly,
That with his pretty buzzing melody
Came here to make us merry ! and thou hast
kill'd him. [favour'd fly,
Marc. Pardon me, sir; 'twas a black ill-
Like to the empress' Moor; therefore I kill'd
him.
Tit. O, O, O.
Then pardon me for reprehending thee,
For thou hast done a charitable deed.
Give me thy knife, I will insult on him
Flattering myself as if it were the Moor
Come hither purposely to poison me.
There's for thyself, and that's for Tamora.
Ah, sirrah !
Yet I do think we are not brought so low
But that between us we can kill a fly
That comes in likeness of a coal-black Moor.
Marc. Alas, poor man ! grief has so wrought
on him,
He takes false shadows for true substances.
Tit. Come, take away. Lavinia, go with me:
I '11 to thy closet ; and go read with thee
Sad stories chanced in the times of old.
Come, boy, and go with me : thy sight is young,
And thou shalt read when mine begins to dazzle.
\Exeunt.
ACT IV.
SCENE I. ROME. Before TITUS'S House.
Enter TITUS and MARCUS. Then enter
YOUNG Lucius running, with books under
his arm, and LAVINIA running after him.
Y. Luc. Help, grandsire, help! my aunt
Lavinia
Follows me everywhere, I know not why.
Good uncle Marcus, see how swift she comes !
Alas, sweet aunt, I know not what you mean.
Marc. Stand by me, Lucius : do not fear
thine aunt. [harm.
Tit. She loves thee, boy, too well to do thee
Y. Luc. Ay, when my father was in Rome
she did. [signs?
Marc. What means my niece Lavinia by these
Tit. Fear her not, Lucius: somewhat doth
she mean :
See, Lucius, see how much she makes of thee :
Somewhither would she have thee go with her.
Ah, boy, Cornelia never with more care
Read to her sons than she hath read to thee
Sweet poetry and Tully's Orator.
Marc. Canst thou not guess wherefore she
plies thee thus? [guess,
Y. Luc. My lord, I know not, I, nor can I
Unless some fit or frenzy do possess her:
For I have heard my grandsire say full oft
Extremity of griefs would make men mad ;
And I have read that Hecuba of Troy
Ran mad through sorrow : that made me to
fear;
Although, my lord, I know my noble aunt
Loves me as dear as e'er my mother did,
And would not, but in fury, fright my youth :
Which made me down to throw my books, and
fly,
Causeless, perhaps : but pardon me, sweet aunt:
And, madam, if my uncle Marcus go,
I will most willingly attend your ladyship.
Marc. Lucius, I will.
[LAVINIA turns over with her stumps the
books which Lucius has let fall.
Tit. How now, Lavinia! Marcus, what
means this?
Some book there is that she desires to see.
Which is it, girl, of these? Open them, boy.
But thou art deeper read and better skill'd :
Come, and take choice of all my library,
And so beguile thy sorrow, till the heavens
Reveal the damn'd contriver of this deed.
Why lifts she up her arms in sequence thus?
Marc. I think she means that there was
more than one
Confederate in the fact; ay, more there was,
Or else to heaven she heaves them for revenge.
Tit. Lucius, what book is that she tosseth so?
Y. Luc. Grandsire, 'tis Ovid's Metamorpho-
sis ;
My mother gave it me.
Marc. For love of her that 's gone,
Perhaps she cull'd it from among the rest.
Tit. Soft ! see how busily she turns the leaves!
Help her:
What would she find? Lavinia, shall I read?
This is the tragic tale of Philomel,
And treats of Tereus' treason and his rape ;
And rape, I fear, was root of thine annoy.
Marc. See, brother, see ; note how she quotes
the leaves.
Tit. Lavinia, wert thou thus surpris'd, sweet
g ir l
Ravish'd, and wrong'd, as Philomela was,
Forc'd in the ruthless, vast, and gloomy
woods ?
See, see !
Ay, such a place there is where we did hunt.
O, had we never, never hunted there !
Pattern'd by that the poet here describes,
By nature made for murders and for rapes.
986
TITUS ANDRONICUS.
[ACT iv.
Marc. O, why should nature build so foul a
den,
Unless the gods delight in tragedies?
Tit. Give signs, sweet girl, for here are
none but friends,
What Roman lord it was durst do the deed :
Or slunk not Saturnine, as Tarquin erst,
That left the camp to sin in Lucrece' bed ?
Marc. Sit down, sweet niece : brother, sit
down by me.
Apollo, Pallas, Jove, or Mercury,
Inspire me, that I may this treason find !
My lord, look here : look here, Lavinia :
This sandy plot is plain ; guide, if thou canst,
This after me, when I have writ my name
Without the help of any hand at all.
[He writes his name with his staff, guid-
ing it with his feet and mouth.
Curs'd be that heart that forc'd us to this
shift ! [last
Write thou, good niece ; and here display at
What God will have disco ver'd for revenge :
Heaven guide thy pen to print thy sorrows
plain,
That we may know the traitors and the truth !
[She takes the staff in her mouth, guides
it with her stumps, and writes.
Tit. O, do ye read, my lord, what she hath
writ?
Stuprunt Chiron Demetrius. [Tamora
Marc. What, what ! the lustful sons of
Performers of this heinous, bloody deed ?
Tit. Magni Dominator poli,
Tarn lentus audis scelera ? tarn lentus vides ?
Marc. O, calm thee, gentle lord ; although
I know
There is enough written upon this earth
To stir a mutiny in the mildest thoughts,
And arm the minds of infants to exclaims,
My lord, kneel down with me ; Lavinia, kneel ;
And kneel, sweet boy, the .Roman Hector's
hope;
And swear with me, as, with the woeful fere
And father of that chaste dishonour'd dame,
Lord Junius Brutus sware for Lucrece' rape,
That we will prosecute, by good advice,
Mortal revenge upon these traitorous Goths,
And see their blood, or die with this reproach.
Tit. 'Tis sure enough, an you knew how.
But if you hunt these bear- whelps, then beware:
The dam will wake ; and if she wind you once,
She 's with the lion deeply still in league,
And lulls him whilst she playeth on her back,
And when he sleeps will she do what she list.
You are a young huntsman, Marcus ; let it
alone ;
And, come, I will go get a leaf of brass,
And with a gad of steel will write these words,
And lay it by : the angry northern wind
Will blow these sands, like Sybil's leaves,
abroad, [you ?
And where 's your lesson then ? Boy, what say
Y. Luc. I say, my lord, that if I were a man,
Their mother's bedchamber should not be safe
For these bad-bondmen to the yoke of Rome.
Marc. Ay, that 's my boy ! thy father hath
full oft
For his ungrateful country done the like.
Y. Ltic. And, uncle, so will I, an if I live.
Tit. Come, go with me into mine armoury;
Lucius, I '11 fit thee ; and withal, my boy,
Shalt carry from me to the empress' sons
Presents that I intend to send them both :
Come, come ; thou 'It do thy message, wilt
thou not ? [grandsire.
Y. Luc. Ay ; with my dagger in their bosoms,
Tit. No, boy, not so; I'll teach thee an-
other course.
Lavinia, come. Marcus, look to my house :
Lucius and I '11 go brave it at the court ;
Ay, marry, will we, sir ; and we '11 be waited
on.
[Exeunt TIT. , LAV. , and Y. Luc.
Marc. O heavens, can you hear a good man
groan,
And not relent, or not compassion him?
Marcus, attend him in his ecstasy,
That hath more scars of sorrow in his heart
Than foemen's marks upon his batter'd shield ;
But yet so just that he will not revenge :
Revenge, ye heavens, for old Andronicus !
[Exit.
SCENE II. ROME. A Room in the Palace.
Enter AARON, DEMETRIUS and CHIRON, at
one door; at another door, YOUNG Lucius
and an Attendant, with a bundle of weapons,
and verses writ upon them.
Chi. Demetrius, here 's the son of Lucius ;
He hath some message to deliver us.
Aar. Ay, some mad message from his mad
grandfather. [may,
Y. Luc. My lords, with all the humbleness I
I greet your honours from Andronicus,
And pray the Roman gods confound you both !
[Aside.
Dem. Gramercy, lovely Lucius : what 's the
news?
Boy. [Aside. ] That you are both decipher'd,
that 's the news, [you,
For villains mark'd with rape. May it please
My grandsire, well-advis'd, hath sent by me
The goodliest weapons of his armoury
SCENE II.]
TITUS ANDRONICUS.
987
To gratify your honourable youth,
The hope of Rome ; for so he bade me say ;
And so I do, and with his gifts present
Your lordships, that whenever you have need,
You may be armed and appointed well :
And so I leave you both, {aside} like bloody
villains.
[Exeunt Y. Luc. and Attendant.
Dem. What 's here ? A scroll ; and written
round about ?
Let 's see :
[Reads. ~} Integer vita, scelerisqtu purus,
Nan eget Mauri jaculis, nee arcu.
Chi. O, 'tis a verse in Horace ; I know it
well:
I read it in the grammar long ago.
Aar. Ay, just, a verse in Horace ; right,
you have it.
Now, what a thing it is to be an ass ! [Aside.
Here 's no sound jest 1 the old man hath found
their guilt ; [lines,
And sends them weapons wrapp'd about with
That wound, beyond their feeling, to the quick.
But were our witty empress well a-foot,
She would applaud Andronicus' conceit.
But let her rest in her unrest awhile.
And now, young lords, was 't not a happy star
Led us to Rome, strangers, and more than so,
Captives, to be advanced to this height ?
It did me good before the palace gate
To brave the tribune in his brother's hearing.
Dem. But me more good to see so great a lord
Basely insinuate and send us gifts.
Aar. Had he not reason, Lord Demetrius ?
Did you not use his daughter very friendly?
Dem. I would we had a thousand Roman
dames
At such a bay, by turn to serve our lust.
Chi. A charitable wish, and full of love.
Aar. Here lacks but your mother for to say
amen.
Chi. And that would she for twenty
thousand more.
Dem. Come, let usgo ; and pray toall the gods
For our beloved mother in her pains.
Aar. [Aside.'} Pray to the devils; the gods
have given us over.
[Flourish within.
Dem. Why do the emperor's trumpets flourish
thus?
Chi. Belike, for joy the emperor hath a son.
Dem. Soft ! who comes here ?
Enter a Nurse, with a blackamoor Child in her
arms.
Nur. Good-morrow, lords :
O, tell me, did you see Aaron the Moor ?
Aar. Well, more or less, or ne'er a whit at all,
Here Aaron is ; and what with Aaron now?
Ntir. O gentle Aaron, we are all undone !
Now help, or woe betide thee evermore !
Aar. Why, what a caterwauling dost thou
keep!
What dost thou wrap and fumble in thine arms?
Nur. O, that which I would hide from
heaven's eye, [grace !
Our empress' shame and stately Rome's dis-
She is deliver'd, lords, she is deliver'd.
Aar. To whom ?
Nur. I mean, she's brought a-bed.
Aar. Well, God give her good rest ! What
hath he sent her ?
Nur. A devil.
Aar. Why, then she is the devil's dam ; a
joyful issue. [issue :
Nur. A joyless, dismal, black, and sorrowful
Here is the babe, as loathsome as a toad
Amongst the fairest breeders of our clime :
The empress sends it thee, thy stamp, thy seal,
And bids thee christen it with thy dagger's point.
Aar. Zounds, ye whore ! is black so base a
hue?
Sweet bio wse, you are a beauteous blossom, sure.
Dem. Villain, what hast thou done?
Aar. That which thou canst not undo.
Chi. Thou hast undone our mother.
Aar. Villain, I have done thy mother.
Dem. And therein, hellish dog, thou hast
undone. [choice !
Woe to her chance, and damn'd her loathed
Accurs'd the offspring of so foul a fiend !
Chi. It shall not live.
Aar. It shall not die.
Nur. Aaron, it must ; the mother wills it so.
Aar. What, must it, nurse ? then let no man
but I
Do execution on my flesh and blood.
Dem. I '11 broach the tadpole on my rapier's
point :
Nurse, give it me ; my sword shall soon despatch
it. [up.
Aar. Sooner this sword shall plough thy bowel s
[Takes the Child from the Nurse, and draws.
Stay, murderous villains ! will you kill your
brother ?
Now, by the burning tapers of the sky,
That shone so brightly when this boy was got,
He dies upon my scimitar's sharp point
That touches this my first-born son and heir !
I tell you, younglings, not Enceladus,
With all his threatening band of Typhon's brood,
Nor great Alcides, nor the god of war,
Shall seize this prey out of his father's hands.
What, what, ye sanguine, shallow-hearted boys !
9 88
TITUS ANDRONICUS.
[ACT iv.
Ye white-Iim'd walls ! ye alehouse-painted
signs !
Coal-black is better than another hue,
In that it scorns to bear another hue ;
For all the water in the ocean
Can never turn a swan's black legs to white,
Although she lave them hourly in the flood.
Tell the empress from me, I am of age
To keep mine own, excuse it how she can.
Dem. Wilt thou betray thy noble mistress
thus ? [self,
Aar. My mistress is my mistress ; this, my-
The vigour and the picture of my youth :
This before all the world do I prefer ;
This maugre all the world will I keep safe,
Or some of you shall smoke for it in Rome.
Dem. By this our mother is for ever sham'd,
Chi. Rome will despise her for this foul
escape.
JVttr. The emperor, in his rage, will doom her
death.
Chi. I blush to think upon this ignomy.
Aar. Why, there 's the privilege your beauty
bears :
Fie, treacherous hue, that will betray with blush-
ing
The close enacts and counsels of the heart !
Here's a young lad fram'd of another leer :
Look how the black slave smiles upon the
father,
As who should say, Old lad, I am thine own.
He is your brother, lords ; sensibly fed
Of that self-blood that first gave life to you ;
And from that womb where you imprison'd were
He is enfranchised and come to light :
Nay, he is your brother by the surer side,
Although my seal be stamped in his face.
Nur. Aaron, what shall I say unto the
empress ?
Dem. Advise thee, Aaron, what is to be done,
And we will all subscribe to thy advice :
Save thou the child, so we may all be safe.
Aar. Then sit we down, and let us all con-
sult.
My son and I will have the wind of you :
Keep there : now talk at pleasure of your safety.
[They sit.
Dem. How many women saw this child of his?
Aar. Why, so, brave lords ! when we join in
league
I am a lamb : but if you brave the Moor,
The chafed boar, the mountain lioness,
The ocean swells not so as Aaron storms.
But say, again, how many saw the child ?
Nur. Cornelia the midwife and myself ;
And no one else but the deliver'd empress.
Aar. The empress, the midwife, and yourself:
Two may keep counsel when the third 's away :
Go to the empress, tell her this I said:
[Stabs her, and she dies.
Weke, weke ! so cries a pig prepar'd to the
spit.
Dem. What mean'st thou, Aaron? Wherefore
didst thou this ?
Aar. O Lord, sir, 'tis a deed of policy:
Shall she live to betray this guilt of ours,
A long-tongu'd babbling gossip? no, lords, no :
And now be it known to you my full intent.
Not far, one Muliteus lives, my countryman ;
His wife but yesternight was brought to bed ;
His child is like to her, fair as you are :
Go pack 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 emperor's heir,
And substituted in the place of mine,
To calm this tempest whirling in the court ;
And let the emperor dandle him for his own.
Hark ye, lords ; ye see I have given her physic.
[Pointing to the Nurse.
And you must needs bestow her funeral ;
The fields are near, and you are gallant grooms :
This done, see that you take no longer days,
But send the midwife presently to me.
The midwife and the nurse well made away,
Then let the ladies tattle what they please.
Chi. Aaron, I see thou wilt not trust the air
With secrets.
Dem. For this care of Tamora,
Herself and hers are highly bound to thee.
[Exeunt DEM. and CHI., bearing off the
dead Nurse.
Aar. Now to the Goths, as swift as swallow
flies;
There to dispose this treasure in mine arms,
And secretly to greet the empress' friends.
Come on, you thick-lipp'd slave, I '11 bear you
hence ;
For it is you that puts us to our shifts :
I '11 make you feed on berries and on roots,
And feed on curds and whey, and suck the goat,
And cabin in a cave ; and bring you up
To be a warrior and command a camp. [Exit.
SCENE III. ROME. A public Place.
EnferTlTUS, bear ing arrows, with letters at the
ends of them ; with him MARCUS, YOUNG
Lucius, and other Gentlemen, with bows.
Tit. Come, Marcus, come: kinsmen, this
is the way.
Sir boy, now let me see your archery;
Look ye draw home enough, and 'tis there
straight.
SCENE III.]
TITUS ANDRONICUS.
989
Terras Astrcea reliquit :
Be you remember'd, Marcus, she 's gone, she 's
fled. [shall
Sirs, take you to your tools. You, cousins,
Go sound the ocean and cast your nets ;
Happily you may catch her in the sea ;
Yet there 's as little justice as at land.
No ; Publius and Sempronius, you must do it ;
'Tis you must dig with mattock and with spade,
And pierce the inmost centre of the earth :
Then, when you come to Pluto's region,
I pray you deliver him this petition ;
Tell him it is for justice and for aid,
And that it comes from old Andronicus,
Shaken with sorrows in ungrateful Rome.
Ah, Rome ! Well, well ; I made thee miserable
What time I threw the people's suffrages
On him that thus doth tyrannize o'er me.
Go, get you gone ; and pray be careful all,
And leave you not a man-of-war unsearch'd :
This wicked emperor may have shipp'd her
hence ;
And, kinsmen, then we may go pipe for justice.
Marc. O Publius, is not this a heavy case,
To see thy noble uncle thus distract ? [cerns
Pub. Therefore, my lord, it highly us con-
By day and night to attend him carefully,
And feed his humour kindly as we may,
Till time beget some careful remedy.
Marc. Kinsmen, his sorrows are past remedy.
Join with the Goths ; and with revengeful war
Take wreak on Rome for this ingratitude,
And vengeance on the traitor Saturnine.
Tit. Publius, how now ! how now, my
masters !
What, have you met with her ? [word,
Pub. No, my good lord ; but Pluto sends you
If you will have Revenge from hell, you shall :
Marry, for Justice, she is so employ'd, [else,
He thinks, with Jove in heaven, or somewhere
So that perforce you must needs stay a time.
Tit. He doth me wrong to feed me with
delays.
I Ml dive into the burning lake below,
And pull her out of Acheron by the heels.
Marcus, we are but shrubs, no cedars we,
No big-bon'd men, fram'd of the Cyclops' size;
But metal, Marcus, steel to the very back,
Yet wrung with wrongs more than our backs
can bear :
And, sith there is no justice in earth nor hell,
We will solicit heaven, and move the gods
To send down Justice for to wreak ourwrongs.
Come, to this gear. You are a good archer,
Marcus, [fie gives them the arrows.
Ad Jovem, that's for you: here, ad Apolli-
ntm :
Ad Martem, that 's for myself :
Here, boy, to Pallas : here, to Mercury:
To Saturn, Caius, not to Saturnine ;
You were as good to shoot against the wind.
To it, boy. Marcus, loose when I bid.
Of my word, I have written to effect ;
There 's not a god left unsolicited. [court :
Marc. Kinsmen, shoot all your shafts into the
We will afflict the emperor in his pride.
Tit. Now, masters, draw. [They shoot.] O,
well said, Lucius !
Good boy, in Virgo's lap ; give it Pallas.
Marc. My lord, I aim a mile beyond the
moon :
Your letter is with Jupiter by this.
Tit. Ha ! ha !
Publius, Publius, what hast thou done ?
See, see, thou hast shot off one of Taurus' horns.
Marc. This was the sport, my lord : when
Publius shot,
The Bull, being gall'd, gave Aries such a knock
That down fell both the Ram's horns in the
court ;
And who should find them but the empress'
villain ?
She laugh'd, and told the Moor he should not
choose
But give them to his master for a present.
Tit. Why, there it goes : God give his lord-
ship joy !
Enter a Clown, with a basket and two pigeons
in it.
News, news from heaven ! Marcus, the post is
come.
Sirrah, what tidings ? have you any letters?
Shall I have justice ? what says Jupiter?
Clo. Ho, the gibbet-maker ? he says that he
hath taken them down again, for the man must
not be hanged till the next week.
Tit. But what says Jupiter, I ask thee ?
Clo. Alas, sir, I know not Jupiter ; I never
drank with him in all my life.
Tit. Why, villain, art not thou the carrier?
Clo. Ay, of my pigeons, sir ; nothing else.
Tit. Why, didst thou not come from heaven ?
Clo. From heaven ! alas, sir, I never came
there : God forbid I should be so bold to press
to heaven in my young days. Why, I am going
with my pigeons to the tribunal plebs, to take
up a matter of brawl betwixt my uncle and one
of the imperial's men.
Marc. Why, sir, that is as fit as can be to
serve for your oration ; and let him deliver the
pigeons to the emperor from you.
Tit. Tell me, can you deliver an oration to
the emperor with a grace ?
990
TITUS ANDRONICUS.
[ACT iv.
Clo. Nay, truly, sir, I could never say grace
in all my life.
Tit. Sirrah, come hither: make no more ado,
But give your pigeons to the emperor :
By me thou shalt have justice at his hands.
Hold, hold ; meanwhile here 's money for thy
charges.
Give me pen and ink. [tion ?
Sirrah, can you with a grace deliver a supplica-
Clo. Ay, sir.
Tit. Then here is a supplication for you.
And when you come to him, at the first
approach you must kneel ; then kiss his foot ;
then deliver up your pigeons ; and then look
for your reward. I '11 be at hand, sir ; see you
do it bravely.
Clo. I warrant you, sir, let me alone.
Tit. Sirrah, hast thou a knife? Come, let
me see it.
Here, Marcus, fold it in the oration ; [ant :
For thou hast made it like an humble suppli-
And when thou hast given it to the emperor,
Knock at my door, and tell me what he says.
Clo. God be with you, sir ; I will.
Tit. Come, Marcus, let us go. Publius,
follow me. [Exeunt.
SCENE IV. ROME. Before the Palace.
Enter SATURNINUS, TAMORA, DEMETRIUS.
CHIRON, Lords, and others ; SATURNINUS
with the arrows in his hand that TITUS shot.
Sat. Why, lords, what wrongs are these ! was
ever seen
An emperor in Rome thus overborne,
Troubled, confronted thus ; and, for the extent
Of legal justice, us 'd in such contempt ?
My lords, you know, as do the mightful gods,
However these disturbers of our peace
Buzz in the people's ears, there naught hath
But even with law, against the wilful sons
Of old Andronicus. And what an if
His sorrows have so overwhelm'd his wits,
Shall we be thus afflicted in his freaks,
His fits, his frenzy, and his bitterness ?
And now he writes to heaven for his redress :
See, here's to Jove, and this to Mercury ;
This to Apollo ; this to the god of war ;
Sweet scrolls to fly about the streets of Rome !
What 's this but libelling against the senate,
And blazoning our injustice everywhere?
A goodly humour, is it not, my lords ?
As who would say, in Rome no justice were.
But if I live, his feigned ecstasies
Shall be no shelter to these outrages :
But he and his shall know that justice lives
In Saturninus' health ; whom, if she sleep,
He '11 so awake as she in fury shall
Cut off the proud'st conspirator that lives.
Tarn. My gracious lord, my lovely Saturnine,
Lord of my life, commander of my thoughts,
Calm thee, and bear the faults of Titus' age,
The effects of sorrow for his valiant sons,
Whose loss hath pierc'd him deep, and scarr'd
his heart ;
And rather comfort his distressed plight
Than prosecute the meanest or the best
For these contempts. [A side.'} Why, thus it
shall become
High-witted Tamora to gloze with all :
But, Titus, I have touch'd thee to the quick,
Thy life-blood on 't : if Aaron now be wise,
Then is all safe, the anchor's in the port.
Enter Clown.
,11 s ( jog ,o>
How now, good fellow ! wouldst thou speak
with us ?
Clo. Yes, forsooth, an your mistership be
imperial.
Tarn. Empress I am, but yonder sits the
emperor.
Clo. 'Tis he. God and Saint Stephen give
you good-den : I have brought you a letter and
a couple of pigeons here.
[SATURNINUS reads the letter.
Sat. Go, take him away, and hang him pre-
sently.
Clo. How much money must I have ?
7am. Come, sirrah, you must be hang'd.
Clo. Hang'd ! By 'r lady, then I have brought
up a neck to a fair end. [Exit guarded.
Sat. Despiteful and intolerable wrongs !
Shall I endure this monstrous villany ?
I know from whence this same device proceeds :
May this be borne, as if his traitorous sons,
That died by law for murder of our brother,
Have by my means been butcher'd wrongfully?
Go, drag the villain hither by the hair ;
Nor age nor honour shall shape privilege.
For this proud mock I '11 be thy slaughter-man ;
Sly frantic wretch, that holp'st to make me
great,
In hope thyself should govern Rome and me.
What news with thee, y
^Emil. Arm, my lord ! Rome never had more
cause !
The Goths have gather'd head ; and with a
power,
Of high resolved men, bent to the spoil,
They hither march amain, under conduct
Of Lucius, son to old Andronicus ;
SCENE IV.]
TITUS ANDRONICUS.
991
Who threats, in course of this revenge, to do
As much as ever Coriolanus did.
Sat. Is warlike Lucius general of the Goths ?
These tidings nip me ; and I hang the head
As flowers with frost, or grass beat down with
storms :
Ay, now begin our sorrows to approach :
'Tis he the common people love so much ;
Myself hath often overheard them say,
When I have walked like a private man,
That Lucius' banishment was wrongfully,
And they have wish'd that Lucius were their
emperor.
Tarn. Why should you fear ? is not your city
strong ?
Sat. Ay, but the citizens favour Lucius,
And will revolt from me to succour him.
Tarn. King, be thy thoughts imperious, like
thy name.
Is the sun dimm'd, that gnats do fly in it ?
The eagle suffers little birds to sing,
And is not careful what they mean thereby,
Knowing that with the shadow of his wing
He can at pleasure stint their melody :
Even so mayst thou the giddy men of Rome.
Then cheer thy spirit : for know, thou emperor,
I will enchant the old Andronicus
With words more sweet, and yet more danger-
ous,
Than baits to fish or honey-stalks to sheep,
Whenas the one is wounded with the bait,
The other rotted with delicious feed.
Sat. But he will not entreat his son for us.
Tarn. If Tamora entreat him, then he will :
For I can smooth and fill his aged ear
With golden promises that, were his heart
Almost impregnable, his old ears deaf,
Yet should both ear and heart obey my tongue.
Go thou before \to ^EMILIUS] ; be our ambassa-
dor:
Say that the emperoi requests a parley
Of warlike Lucius, and appoint the meeting
Even at his father's house, the old Andronicus.
Sat. ^milius, do this message honourably :
And if he stand on hostage for his safety,
Bid him demand what pledge will please him
best.
jEmil. Your bidding shall I do effectually.
[Exit.
Tarn. Now will I to that old Andronicus,
And temper him, with all the art I have,
To pluck proud Lucius from the warlike
Goths.
And now, sweet emperor, be blithe again,
And bury all thy fear in my devices.
Sat. Then go successfully, and plead to him.
[Exeunt.
ACT V.
SCENE I. Plains near Rome.
Enter Lucius and Goths, with drum and
colours.
Luc. Approved warriors and my faithful
friends,
I have received letters from great Rome,
Which signify what hate they bear their emperor,
And how desirous of our sight they are.
Therefore, great lords, be as your titles witness,
Imperious and impatient of your wrongs ;
And wherein Rome hath done you any scath
Let him make treble satisfaction.
1 Goth. Brave slip, sprung from the great
Andronicus, [fort ;
Whose name was once our terror, now our com-
Whose high exploits and honourable deeds
Ingrateful Rome requites with foul contempt,
Be bold in us : we '11 follow where thou lead'st,
Like stinging bees in hottest summer's day,
Led by their master to the flowered fields,
And be aveng'd on cursed Tamora. [him.
Goths. And as he saith, so say we all with
Luc. I humbly thank him, and I thank you
all.
But who comes here, led by a lusty Goth ?
Enter a Goth, leading AARON with his Child
in his arms.
2 Goth. Renowned Lucius, from our troops
I stray'd
To gaze upon a ruinous monastery ;
And as I earnestly did fix mine eye
Upon the wasted building, suddenly
I heard a child cry underneath a wall.
I made unto the noise ; when soon I heard
The crying babe controll'd with this discourse :
Peace, tawny slave, half me and half thy dam!
Did not thy hue bewray whose brat thou art,
Had nature lent thee but thy mother's look,
Villain, thott mightst have been an emperor:
But w/iere the bull and cow are both milk-white
They never do beget a coal-black calf.
Peace, villain, peace i even thus he rates the
babe,
For I must bear thee to a trusty Goth ;
Who, when he knows thou art the empress* babe y
Will hold thee dearly for thy mother's sake.
With this, my weapon drawn, Irush'd upon him,
Surpris'd him suddenly, and brought him hither,
To use as you think needful of the man. [devil
Luc. O worthy Goth, this is the incarnate
That robb'd Andronicus of his good hand ;
This is the pearl that pleas'd your empress' eye ;
992
TITUS ANDRONICUS.
[ACT v.
And here 's the base fruit of his burning lust.
Say, wall-ey'd slave, whither wouldst thou
convey
This growing image of thy fiend-like face?
Why dost not speak ? what, deaf? No ; not a
word ?
A halter, soldiers ; hang him on this tree,
And by his side his fruit of bastardy,
Aar. Touch not the boy, he is of royal blood.
Ltic. Too like the sire for ever being good.
First hang the child, that he may see it sprawl,
A sight to vex the father's soul withal.
Get me a ladder.
[A ladder brought, which AARON is
obliged to ascend.
Aar. Lucius, save the child,
And bear it from me to the empress.
If thou do this, I '11 show thee wondrous things
That highly may advantage thee to hear :
If thou wilt not, befall what may befall,
I '11 speak no more, but vengeance rot you all !
Luc. Say on : an if it please me which thou
speak'st,
Thy child shall live, and I will see it nourish'd.
Aar. An if it please thee I why, assure thee,
Lucius,
'Twill vex thy soul to hear what I shall speak ;
For I must talk of murders, rapes, andmassacres,
Acts of black night, abominable deeds,
Complots of mischief, treason, villanies,
Ruthful to hear, yet piteously perform'd :
And this shall all be buried by my death,
Unless thou swear to me my child shall live.
Luc. Tell on thy mind ; I say thy child shall
live. [begin.
Aar. Swear that he shall, and then I will
Luc. Who should I swear by ? thou believ'st
no god :
That granted, how canst thou believe an oath ?
Aar. What if I do not? as, indeed, I do not ;
Yet, for I know thou art religious,
And hast a thing within thee called conscience,
With twenty popish tricks and ceremonies
Which I have seen thee careful to observe,
Therefore I urge thy oath ; for that I know
An idiot holds his bauble for a god,
And keeps the oath which by that god he
swears ;
To that I '11 urge him : therefore thou shalt vow
By that same god, what god soe'er it be
That thou ador'st and hast in reverence,
To save my boy, to nourish and bring him up ;
Or else I will discover naught to thee.
Luc. Even by my god I swear to thee I will.
Aar. First know thou, I begot him on the
empress.
Luc. O most insatiate luxurious woman !
Aar. Tut, Lucius, this was but a deed of
charity
To that which thou shalt hear of me anon.
'Twas her two sons that murder'd Bassianus ;
They cut thy sister's tongue, and ravish'd her,
And cut her hands, and trimm'd her as thou
saw'st. [trimming ?
Luc. O detestable villain! call'st thou that
Aar. Why, she was wash'd, and cut, and
trimm'd ; and 'twas
Trim sport for them that had the doing of it.
Luc. O barbarous, beastly villains, like thy-
self! [them:
Aar. Indeed, I was their tutor to instruct
That codding spirit had they from their mother,
As sure a card as ever won the set ;
That bloody mind, I think, they learn'd of me,
As true a dog as ever fought at head.
Well, let my deeds be witness of my worth.
I train'd thy brethren to that guileful hole
Where the dead corpse of Bassianus lay :
I wrote the letter that thy father found,
And hid the gold within the letter mention'd,
Confederate with the queen and her two sons:
And what not done, that thou hast cause to rue,
Wherein I had no stroke of mischief in 't?
I play'd the cheater for thy father's hand ;
And when I had it, drew myself apart,
And almost broke my heart with extreme
laughter :
I pry'd me through the crevice of a wall
When, for his hand, he had his two sons' heads;
Beheld his tears, and laugh'd so heartily
That both mine eyes were rainy like to his:
And when I told the empress of this sport,
She swooned almost at my pleasing tale,
And for my tidings gave me twenty kisses.
Goth. What, canst thou say all this, and
never blush ?
Aar. Ay, like a black dog, as the saying is.
Luc. Art thou not sorry for these heinous
deeds? [more.
Aar. Ay, that I had not done a thousand
Even now I curse the day, and yet, I think,
Few come within the compass of my curse,
Wherein I did not some notorious ill :
As, kill a man, or else devise his death ;
Ravish a maid, or plot the way to do it;
Accuse some innocent, and forswear myself;
Set deadly enmity between two friends ;
Make poor men's cattle stray and break their
necks ;
Set fire on barns and hay-stacks in the night,
And bid the owners quench them with their
tears.
Oft have I digg'd up dead men from their graves t
And set them upright at their dear friends' doors,
SCENE II.]
TITUS ANDRONICUS.
993
Even when their sorrows almost were forgot;
And on their skins, as on the bark of trees,
Have with my knife carved in Roman letters,
Let not your sorrow die, tJiough I ant dead.
Tut, I have done a thousand dreadful things
As willingly as one would kill a fly;
And nothing grieves me heartily indeed
But that I cannot do ten thousand more, [die
Luc. Bring down the devil ; for he must not
So sweet a death as hanging presently.
Aar. If there be devils, would I were a devil,
To live and burn in everlasting fire,
So I might have your company in hell,
But to torment you with my bitter tongue !
Luc. Sirs, stop his mouth, and let him speak
no more.
Enter a Goth.
3 Goth. My lord, there is a messenger from
Rome
Desires to be admitted to your presence.
Luc. Let him come near.
Enter /EMILIUS.
Welcome, ^Emilius: what's the news from
Rome? [Goths,
&mil. Lord Lucius, and you princes of the
The Roman emperor greets you all by me ;
And, for he understands you are in arms,
He craves a parley at your father's house,
Willing you to demand your hostages,
And they shall be immediately deliver'd.
I Goth. What says our general?
Luc. ^Emilius, let the emperorgive hispledges
Unto my father and my uncle Marcus,
And we will come. March away. [Exeunt.
SCENE II. ROME. Before TITUS'S House.
Enter TAMORA, DEMETRIUS, and CHIRON,
disguised.
Tarn. Thus, in this strange and sad habili-
ment
I will encounter with Andronicus,
And say I am Revenge, sent from below
To join with him and right his heinous wrongs.
Knock at his study, where they say he keeps
To ruminate strange plots of dire revenge ;
Tell him Revenge is come to join with him,
And work confusion on his enemies.
[They knock.
Enter TITUS, above.
Tit. Who doth molest my contemplation?
Is ic your trick to make me ope the door,
That so my sad decrees may fly away,
And all my study be to no effect?
You are deceiv'd : for what I mean to do
See here in bloody lines I have set down ;
And what is written shall be execut d.
Tarn. Titus, I am come to talk with thee.
Tit. No, not a word : how can I grace my
talk,
Wanting a hand to give it action ?
Thou hast the odds of me ; therefore no more.
'lam. If thou didst know me, thou v ouldst
talk with me.
Tit. I am not mad ; I know thee well enough :
Witness this wretched stump, witness these
crimson lines;
Witness these trenches made by grief and care ;
Witness the tiring day and heavy night;
Witness all sorrow, that I know thee well
For our proud empress, mighty Tamora:
Is not thy coming for my other hand ?
Tarn. Know thou, sad man, I am not Tamora;
She is thy enemy and I thy friend :
I am Revenge ; sent from the infernal kingdom
To ease the gnawing vulture of thy mind
By working wreakful vengeance on thy foes.
Come down and welcome me to this world's
light ;
Confer with me of murder and of death :
There 's not a hollow cave or lurking-place,
No vast obscurity or misty vale,
Where bloody murder or detested rape
Can couch for fear but I will find them out ;
And in their ears tell them my dreadful
name,
Revenge, which makes the foul offenders quake.
Tit. Art thou Revenge ? and art thou sent
to me
To be a torment to mine enemies ? [come me.
Tarn. I am ; therefore come down and wel-
Tit. Do me some service ere I come to thee.
Lo, by thy side where Rape and Murder stands ;
Now give some 'surance that thou art Revenge,
Stab them, or tear them on thy chariot wheels ;
And then I '11 come and be thy waggoner,
And whirl along with thee about the globe.
Provide thee two proper palfreys, black as jet,
To hale thy vengeful waggon swift away,
And find out murderers in their guilty caves :
And when thy car is loaden with their heads
I will dismount, and by the waggon-wheel
Trot, like a servile footman, all day long,
Even from Hyperion's rising in the east
Until his very downfall in the sea :
And day by day I '11 do this heavy task,
So thou destroy Rapine and Murder there.
Tarn. These are my ministers, and come with
me.
Tit. Are these thy ministers ? what are they
call'd?
2 I
994
TITUS ANDRONICUS.
[ACT v.
Tarn. Rapine and Murder ; therefore called
so
'Cause they take vengeance of such kind of men.
Tit. Good lord, how like the empress' sons
they are !
And you the empress ! But we worldly men
Have miserable, mad, mistaking eyes.
sweet Revenge, now do I come to thee ;
And, if one arm's embracement will content
thee,
1 will embrace thee in it by and by.
[Exit from above.
Tarn. This closing with him fits his lunacy:
Whate'er I forge to feed his brain-sick fits,
Do you uphold and maintain in your speeches,
For now he firmly takes me for Revenge ;
And, being credulous in this mad thought,
I '11 make him send for Lucius his son ;
And, whilst I at a banquet hold him sure,
I '11 find some cunning practice out of hand
To scatter and disperse the giddy Goths,
Or, at the least, make them his enemies.
See, here he comes, and I must ply my theme.
Enter TITUS.
Tit. Long have I been forlorn, and all for
thee:
Welcome, dread fury, to my woeful house ;
Rapine and Murder, you are welcome too :
How like the empress and her sons you are !
Well are you fitted, had you but a Moor :
Could not all hell afford you such a devil ?
For well I wot the empress never wags
But in her company there is a Moor ;
And, would you represent our queen aright,
It were convenient you had such a devil :
But welcome as you are. What shall we do ?
Tarn. What wouldst thou have us do, An-
dronicus ? [him.
Dem. Show me a murderer, I '11 deal with
Chi. Show me a villain that hath done a rape,
And I am sent to be reveng'd on him.
Tarn. Show me a thousand that have done
thee wrong,
And I will be revenged on them all. [Rome,
Tit. Look round about the wicked streets of
And when thou find'st a man that 's like thyself,
Good Murder, stab him; he's a murderer.
Go thou with him ; and when it is thy hap
To find another that is like to thee,
Good Rapine, stab him ; he 's a ravisher.
Go thou with them ; and in the emperor's court
There is a queen, attended by a Moor ; [tion,
Well mayst thou know her by thy own propor-
For up and down she doth resemble thee ;
I pray thee, do on them some violent death ;
They have been violent to me and mine.
Tarn. Well hast thou lesson'd us ; this shall
we do.
But would it please thee, good Andronicus,
To send for Lucius, thy thrice-valiant son,
Who leads towards Rome a band of warlike
Goths,
And bid him come and banquet at thy house ;
When he is here, even at thy solemn feast,
I will bring in the empress and her sons,
The emperor himself, and all thy foes ;
And at thy mercy shall they stoop and kneel,
And on them shalt thou ease thy angry heart.
What says Andronicus to this device ? [calls.
Tit. Marcus, my brother ! 'tis sad Titus
Enter MARCUS.
Go, gentle Marcus, to thy nephew Lucius ;
Thou shalt inquire him out among the Goths :
Bid him repair to me, and bring with him
Some of the chiefest princes of the Goths ;
Bid him encamp his soldiers where they are :
Tell him the emperor and the empress too
Feast at my house, and he shall feast with them.
This do thou for my love ; and so let him
As he regards his aged father's life.
Marc. This will I do, and soon return again.
[Exit
Tarn. Now will I hence about thy business,
And take my ministers along with me.
Tit. Nay, nay, let Rape and Murder stay
with me,
Or else I '11 call my brother back again,
And cleave to no revenge but Lucius.
Tarn. [Aside to them.'] What say you, boys?
will you abide with him,
Whiles I go tell my lord the emperor
How I have govern'd our determin'd jest ?
Yield to his humour, smooth and speak him fair,
And tarry with him till I come again.
Tit. [Aside.] I know them all, though they
suppose me mad, [vices,
And will o'er-reach them in their own de-
A pair of cursed hell-hounds and their dam.
Dem. Madam, depart at pleasure ; leave us
here. [goes
Tarn. Farewell, Andronicus : Revenge now
To lay a complot to betray thy foes.
Tit. I know thou dost ; and, sweet Revenge,
farewell ! [Exit TAMORA.
Chi. Tell us, old man, how shall we be
employ 'd? [do.
Tit. Tut, I have work enough for you to
Publius, come hither, Cains, and Valentine !
Enter PUBLIUS and others.
Pub. What is your will ?
Tit. Know you these two ?
SCENE II.j
TITUS ANDRONICUS.
995
Piib. The empress' sons,
I take them, Chiron and Demetrius.
Tit. Fie, Publius, fie ! thou art too much
deceiv'cl,
The one is Murder, Rape is the other's name ;
And therefore bind them, gentle Publius :
Caius and Valentine, lay hands on them :
Oft have you heard me wish for such an hour,
And now I find it; therefore bind them sure ;
And stop their mouths if they begin to cry.
[Exit. PUBLIUS, &c. t lay hold on CHIRON
and DEMETRIUS.
Chi. Villains, forbear ! we are the empress'
sons. [manded.
Pub. And therefore do we what we are com-
Stop close their mouths, let them not speak a
word.
Is he sure bound ? look that you bind them fast.
Re-enter TITUS ANDRONICUS, with LAVINIA ;
he bearing a knife and she a basin.
Tit. Come, come, Lavinia ; look, thy foes
are bound. [me ;
Sirs, stop their mouths, let them not speak to
But let them hear what fearful words I utter.
O villains, Chiron and Demetrius !
Here stands the spring whom you have stain'd
with mud ;
This goodly summer with your winter mix'd.
You kill'd her husband ; and for that vile fault
Two of her brothers were condemn'd to death,
My hand cut off and made a merry jest ;
Both her sweet hands, her tongue, and that,
more dear
Than hands or tongue, her spotless chastity,
Inhuman traitors, you constrain'd and forc'd.
What would you say, if I should let you speak?
Villains, for shame you could not beg for grace.
Hark, wretches ! how I mean to martyr you.
This one hand yet is left to cut your throats,
Whilst that Lavinia 'tween her stumpsdoth hold
The basin that receives your guilty blood.
You know your mother means to feast with me,
And calls herself Revenge, and thinks me
mad :
Hark, villains ! I will grind your bones to dust,
And with your blood and it I '11 make a paste ;
And of the paste a coffin I will rear,
And make two pasties of your shameful heads ;
And bid that strumpet, your unhallow'd dam,
Like to the earth, swallow her own increase.
This is the feast that I have bid her to,
And this the banquet she shall surfeit on ;
For worse than Philomel you us'd my daughter,
And worse than Progne I will be reveng'd :
And now prepare your throats. Lavinia, come.
[He cuts their throats.
Receive the blood : and when that they are dead,
Let me go grind their bones to powder small,
And with this hateful liquor temper it ;
And in that paste let their vile heads be bak'd.
Come, come, be every one officious
To make this banquet ; which I wish may prove
More stern and bloody than the Centaurs' feast.
So, now bring them in, for I will play the cook,
And see them ready 'gainst their mother comes.
[Exeunt t bearing the dead bodies.
SCENE III. ROME. A Pavilion in TITUS'S
Gardens, with tables, &>c.
Enter Lucius, MARCUS, and Goths, with
AARON prisoner.
Luc. Uncle Marcus, since 'tis my father's
mind
That I repair to Rome, I am content.
I Goth. And ours with thine, befall what
fortune will. [Moor,
Lite. Good uncle, take you in this barbarous
This ravenous tiger, this accursed devil ;
Let him receive no sustenance, fetter him,
Till he be brought unto the empress' face
For testimony of her foul proceedings :
And see the ambush of our friends be strong ;
I fear the emperor means no good to us.
Aar. Some devil whisper curses in mine ear,
And prompt me, that my tongue may utter forth
The venomous malice of my swelling heart !
Luc. Away, inhuman dog ! unhallow'd
slave !
Sirs, help our uncle to convey him in.
[Exeunt Goths with AAR. Flourish within.
The trumpets show the emperor is at hand.
Enter SATURNINUS afl?TAMORA, with
Tribunes, Senators, and others.
Sat. What, hath the firmament more suns
than one?
Luc. What boots it thee to call thyself the sun?
Marc. Rome's emperor, and nephew, break
the parle ;
These quarrels must be quietly debated.
The feas' is ready, which the careful Titus
Hath ordain'd to an honourable end,
For peace, for love, for league, and good to
Rome : [places.
Please you, therefore, draw nigh, and take your
Sat. Marcus, we will.
[Hautboys sound. The company sit at table.
Enter TITUS, dressed like a cook, LAVINIA,
vailed, YOUNG Lucius, andothers. TITUS
places the dishes on the table.
Tit. Welcome, my gracious lord ; welcome,
dread queen ;
996
TITUS ANDRONICUS.
[ACT v.
Welcome, ye warlike Goths ; welcome, Lucius ;
And welcome all : although the cheer be poor,
'Twill fill your stomachs ; please you eat of it.
Sat. Why art thou thus attir'd, Andronicus?
Tit. Because T would be sure to have all well
To entertain your highness and your empress.
Tarn. We are beholden to you, good An-
dronicus. [were.
Tit. And if your highness knew my heart, you
My lord the emperor, resolve me this :
Was it well done of rash Virginius
To slay his daughter with his own right hand,
Because she was enforc'd, stain'd, and de-
flower'd ?
Sat. It was, Andronicus.
Tit. Your reason, mighty lord. [shame,
Sat. Because the girl should not survive her
And by her presence still renew his sorrows.
Tit. A reason mighty, strong, and effectual ;
A pattern, precedent, and lively warrant
For me, most wretched, to perform the like :
Die, die, Lavinia, and thy shame with thee ;
[Kills LAVINIA.
And with thy shame thy father's sorrow die !
Sat. What hast thou done, unnatural and
unkind ?
Tit. KilPd her for whom my tears have made
me blind.
I am as woeful as Virginius was,
And have a thousand times more cause than he
To do this outrage ; and it is now done.
Sat. What, was she ravish'd? tell who did
the deed.
Tit. Will 't please you eat ? will 't please your
highness feed?
Tarn. Why hast thou slain thine only
daughter thus?
Tit. Not I ; 'twas Chiron and Demetrius :
They ravish'd her, and cut away her tongue ;
And they, 'twas they that did her all this wrong.
Sat. Go, fetch them hither to us presently.
Tit. Why, there they are both, baked in that
pie,
Whereof their mother daintily hath fed,
Eating the flesh that she herself hath bred.
'Tis true, 'tis true ; witness my knife's sharp
point. [Kills TAMORA.
Sat. Die, frantic wretch, for this accursed
deed ! [Kills TITUS.
Luc. Can the son's eye behold his father
bleed?
There 's meed for meed, death for a deadly deed.
[A7//rSATURNiNUS. A great tumult. Lucius,
MARCUS, and their partisans, ascend the
steps before TITUS'S house.
Marc. You sad-fac'd men, people and sons
of Rome,
By uproar sever'd, like a flight of fowl
Scatter'd by winds and high tempestuous gusts,
O, let me teach you how to knit again
This scatter'd corn into one mutual sheaf,
These broken limbs again into one body :
Lest Rome herself be bane unto herself,
And she whom mighty kingdoms court' sy to.
Like a forlorn and desperate castaway,
Do shameful execution on herself.
But if my frosty signs and chaps of age,
Grave witnesses of true experience,
Cannot induce you to attend my words,
Speak, Rome's dear friend [to Lucius] : as erst
our ancestor,
When with his solemn tongue he did discourse
To love-sick Dido's sad attending ear
The story of that baleful burning night
When subtle Greeks surpris'd King Priam's
Troy,
Tell us what Sinon hath bewitch'd our ears,
Or who hath brought the fatal engine in
That gives our Troy, our Rome, the civil wound.
My heart is not compact of flint nor steel ;
Nor can I utter all our bitter grief,
But floods of tears will drown my oratory
And break my very utterance, even in the time
When it should move you to attend me most,
Lending your kind commiseration.
Here is a captain, let him tell the tale ;
Your hearts will throb and weep to hear him
speak.
Luc. Then, noble auditory, be it known to you
That cursed Chiron and Demetrius
Were they that murdered our emperor's brother ;
And they it were that ravished our sister :
For their fell faults our brothers were beheaded ;
Our father's tears despis'd, and basely cozen'd
Of that true hand that fought Rome's quarrel out
And sent her enemies unto the grave.
Lastly, myself unkindly banished,
The gates shut on me, and turn'd weeping out,
To beg relief among Rome's enemies ;
Who drown'd their enmity in my true tears,
And op'd their arms to embrace me as a friend :
And I am the turn'd-forth, be it known to you,
That have preserv'd her welfare in my blood ;
And from her bosom took the enemy's point,
Sheathing the steel in my adventurous body.
Alas ! you know I am no vaunter, I ;
My scars can witness, dumb although they are,
That my report is just and full of truth.
But, soft ! methinks I do digress too much,
Citing my worthless praise : O, pardon me ;
For when no friends are by, men praise them-
selves, [child.
Marc. Now is my turn to speak. Behold this
[Pointing to the Child in an Attendant's arms.
SCENE III.]
TITUS ANDRONICUS.
997
Of this was Tamora delivered ;
The issue of an irreligious Moor,
Chief architect and plotter of these woes :
The villain is alive in Titus' house,
Damn'd as he is, to witness this is true.
Now judge what cause had Titus to revenge
These wrongs unspeakable, past patience,
Or more than any living man could hear.
Now you have heard the truth, what say you,
Romans ?
Have we done aught amiss, show us wherein,
And. from the place where you behold us now,
The poor remainder of Andronici
Will, hand in hand, all headlong cast us down,
And on the ragged stones beat forth our brains,
And make a mutual closure of our house.
Speak, Romans, speak ; and if you say we shall,
Lo, hand in hand, Lucius and I will fall.
sErnil. Come, come, thou reverend man of
Rome,
And bring our emperor gently in thy hand,
Lucius our emperor ; for well I know
The common voice do cry it shall be so.
Romans. [Several speak.} Lucius, all hail,
Rome's royal emperor !
Marc. Go, go into old Titus* sorrowful house,
[ To Attendants, "who go into the house.
And hither hale that misbelieving Moor,
To be adjudg'd some direful slaughtering death,
As punishment for his most wicked life.
[Lucius, MARCUS, drv., descend.
Iranians. [Several speak.~\ Lucius, all hail,
Rome's gracious governor ! [so
Luc. Thanks, gentle Romans : may I govern
To heal Rome's harms and wipe away her woe !
But, gentle people, give me aim awhile,
For nature puts me to a heavy task :
Stand all aloof ; but, uncle, draw you near,
To shed obsequious tears upon this trunk.
O, take this warm kiss on thy pale cold lips,
[Kisses TITUS.
These sorrowful drops upon thy blood-stain'd
face,
The last true duties of thy noble son !
Marc. Tear for tear and loving kiss for kiss
Thy brother Marcus tenders on thy lips :
O, were the sum of these that I should pay
Countless and infinite, yet would I pay them !
Luc. Come hither, boy; come, come, and
learn of us [well :
To melt in showers : thy grandsire lov'd thee
Many a time he danc'd thee on his knee,
Sung thee asleep, his loving breast thy pillow ;
Many a matter hath he told to thee,
Meet and agreeing with thine infancy;
In that respect, then, like a loving child,
Shed yet some small drops from thy tender
spring,
Because kind nature doth require it so :
Friends should associate friends in grief and woe :
Bid him farewell ; commit him to the grave ;
Do him that kindness, and take leave of him.
Y. Luc. O grandsire, grandsire ! even with
all my heart
Would I were dead, so you did live again !
O Lord, I cannot speak to him for weeping ;
My tears will choke me if I ope my mouth.
Re-enter Attendants with AARON.
l. You sad Andronici, have done with
woes :
Give sentence on this execrable wietch,
That hath been breeder of these dire events.
Luc. Set him breast-deep in earth, and
famish him ;
There let him stand, and rave, and cry for food :
If any one relieves or pities him,
For the offence he dies. This is our doom :
Some stay to see him fasten'd in the earth.
Aar. O, why should wrath be mute and fury
dumb?
I am no baby, I, that with base prayers
I should repent the evils I have done :
Ten thousand worse than ever yet I did
Would I perform, if I might have my will :
If one good deed in all my life I did,
I do repent it from my very soul. [hence,
Luc. Some loving friends convey the emperor
And give him burial in his father's grave :
My father and Lavinia shall forthwith
Be closed in our household's monument.
As for that heinous tiger, Tamora,
No funeral rite, nor man in mournful weeds,
No mournful bell shall ring her burial ;
But throw her forth to beasts and birds of prey :
Her life was beast-like and devoid of pity ;
And, being so, shall have like want of pity.
See justice done on Aaron, that damn'd Moor,
By whom our heavy haps had their beginning :
Then, afterwards, to order well the state,
That like events may ne'er it ruinate.
[Exeunt.
PERICLES, PRINCE OF TYRE.
PERSONS REPRESENTED.
ANTIOCHUS, King of Antioch.
PERICLES, Prince of Tyre.
HELICANUS, \ . T , . ~
ESCANES, > }t Lords cf Tyre.
SIMON IDES, King of Pentapolis.
CLEON, Governor of Tharsns.
LYSIMACHUS, Governor of Mitylenc.
CERIMON, a Lord of Ephestis.
THALIARD, a Lord of Antioch.
PHILEMON, Servant to CERIMON.
LEONINE, Servant to DIONYZA.
Marshal.
A Pander ; and BOULT, his Servant.
GOWER, as Chorus.
The Daughter of ANTIOCHUS.
DIONYZA, Wife to CLEON.
THAISA, Daughter to SIMONIDES.
MARINA, Daughter to PERICLES and THAISA.
LYCHORIDA, Nurse to MARINA.
DIANA.
A Bawd.
Lords, Ladies, Knights, Gentlemen, Sailors.
Pirates, Fishermen, and Messengers.
SCENE, Dispersedly in various Countries.
ACT I.
Enter GOWER.
Before the Palace of Antioch.
To sing a song that old was sung,
From ashes ancient Gower is come ;
Assuming man's infirmities,
To glad your ear and please your eyes.
It hath been sung at festivals,
On ember-eves and holy-ales;
And lords and ladies in their lives
Have read it for restoratives :
The purchase is to make men glorious ;
Et bonum quo antiquius, eo inelhis.
If you, born in these latter times,
When wit 's more ripe, accept my rhymes,
And that to hear an old man sing
May to your wishes pleasure bring,
I life would wish, and that I might
Waste it for you, like taper-light.
This Antioch, then, Antiochus the Great
Built up, this city, for his chiefest seat ;
The fairest in all Syria,
I tell you what mine authors say.
This king unto him took a fere,
Who died and left a female heir,
So buxom, blithe, and full of face,
As heaven had lent her all his grace ;
With whom the father liking took,
And her to incest did provoke :
Bad child ; worse father ! to entice his own
To evil should be done by none :
But custom what they did begin
Was with long use account no sin.
The beauty of this sinful dame
Made many princes thither frame
To seek her as a bed-fellow,
In marriage-pleasures play-fellow:
Which to prevent he made a law,
To keep her still, and men in awe,
That whoso ask'd her for his wife,
His riddle told not, lost his life:
So for her many a wight did die,
As yon grim looks do testify.
What now ensues, to the judgment of your eye
I give, my cause who best can justify. [Exit.
SCENE I. ANTIOCH. A Room in the Palace.
Enter ANTIOCHUS, PERICLES, and
Attendants.
Ant. Young Prince of Tyre, you have at
large receiv'd
The danger of the task you undertake.
Per. I have, Antiochus, and, with a soul
Embolden'd with the glory of her praise,
Think death no hazard in this enterprise.
Ant. Bring in our daughter, clothed like a
bride,
For the embracements even of Jove himself;
At whose conception, till Lucina reign'd,
Nature this dowry gave, to glad her presence,
The senate-house of planets all did sit,
To knit in her their best perfections.
Music. Enter the Daughter of ANTIOCHUS.
Per. See where she comes, apparell'd like
the spring,
Graces her subjects, and her thoughts the king
Of every virtue gives renown to men !
SCENE I.]
PERICLES, PRINCE OF TYRE.
999
Her face the book of praises, where is read
Nothing but curious pleasures, as from thence
Sorrow were ever raz'd, and testy wrath
Could never be her mild companion.
Ye gods, that made me man, and sway in love,
That have inflam'd desire in my breast
To taste the fruit of yon celestial tree,
Or die in the adventure, be my helps,
As I am son and servant to your will,
To compass such a boundless happiness !
Ant. Prince Pericles,
Per. That would be son to great Antiochus.
Ant. Before thee stands this fair Hesperides,
With golden fruit, but dangerous to be touch'd ;
For death-like dragons here affright thee hard :
Her face, like heaven, enticeth thee to view
Her countless glory, which desert must gain ;
And which, without desert, because thine eye
Presumes to reach, all thy whole heap must die.
Yon sometime famous princes, like thyself,
Drawn by report, adventurous by desire,
Tell thee, with speechless tongues and sem-
blance pale,
That, without covering, save yon field cf stars,
Here they stand martyrs, slain in Cupid's wars ;
And with dead cheeks advise thee to desist
For going on death's net, whom none resist.
Per. Antiochus, I thank thee, who hath
taught
My frail mortality to know itself,
And by those fearful objects to prepare
This body, like to them, to what I must;
For death remember'd should be like a mirror,
Who tells us life 's but breath, to trust it error.
I '11 make my will, then ; and, as sick men do,
Who know the world, see heaven, but, feeling
woe,
Gripe not at earthly joys, as erst they did ;
So I bequeath a happy peace to you
And all good men, as every prince should do ;
My riches to the earth from whence they
came ;
But my unspotted fire of love to you.
[To the Daughter of ANTIOCHUS.
Thus ready for the way of life or death,
I wait the sharpest blow, Antiochus.
Ant. Scorning advice, read the conclusion,
then:
Which read and not expounded, 'tis decreed,
As these before thee, thou thyself shalt bleed.
Daugh. In all save that, mayst thou prove
prosperous !
In all save that, I wish thee happiness !
Per. Like a bold champion I assume the lists,
Nor ask advice of any other thought
But faithfulness and courage.
[Reads the Kiddle.
I am no viper, yet I feed
On mother s flesh which did me breed.
I sought a husband, in which labour
I found that kindness in a father.
He 's father, son, and husband mild ;
I mother, wife, and yet his child.
How they may be, and yet in two,
As you will live, resolve it you.
Sharp physic is the last : but, O you powers
That give heaven countless eyes to view men's
acts,
Why cloud they not their sights perpetually,
If this be true, which makes me pale to read
it?
Fair glass of light, I lov'd you, and could still,
[Takes hold of the hand of the Princess.
Were not this glorious casket stor'd with ill :
But I must tell you, now my thoughts revolt :
For he 's no man on whom perfections wait
That, knowing sin within, will touch the gate.
You're a fair viol, and your sense the strings;
Who, finger'd to make man his lawful music,
Would draw heaven dov/n, and all the gods to
hearken ;
But, being play'd upon before your time,
Hell only danceth at so harsh a chime.
Good sooth, I care not for you.
Ant. Prince Pericles, touch not, upon thy life,
For that 's an article within our law
As dangerous as the rest. Your time 's expir'd :
Either expound now, or receive your sentence.
Per. Great king,
Few love to hear the sins they love to act ;
'Twould 'braid yourself too near for me to tell it.
Who has a book of all that monarchs do,
He 's more secure to keep it shut than shown :
For vice repeated is like the wandering wind,
Blows dust in others' eyes, to spread itself;
And yet the end of all is bought thus dear,
The breath is gone, and the sore eyes see clear:
To stop the air would hurt them. The blind
mole casts [throng'd
Copp'd hills towards heaven, to tell the earth is
By man's oppression ; and the poor worm doth
die for 't. [their will ;
Kings are earth's gods : in vice their law 's
And if Jove stray, who dares say Jove doth ill?
It is enough you know ; and it is fit,
What being more known grows worse, to
smother it.
All love the womb that their first being bred.
Then give my tongue like leave to love my head.
Ant. [Aside.} Heaven, that I had thy head !
he has found the meaning: [Tyre,
But I will gloze with him. Young Prince of
Though by the tenor of our strict edict,
Your exposition misinterpreting,
We might proceed to cancel of your days;
IOOO
PERICLES, PRINCE OF TYRE.
[ACT i.
Yet hope, succeeding from so fair a tree
As your fair self, doth tune us otherwise :
Forty days longer we do respite you ;
If by which time our secret be undone,
This mercy shows we '11 joy in such a son :
And until then your entertain shall be
As doth befit our honour and your worth.
[Exeunt ANT. , his Daughter, and Attendants.
Per. How courtesy would seem to cover sin,
When what is done is like an hypocrite,
The which is good in nothing but in sight !
If it be true that I interpret false,
Then were it certain you were not so bad
As with foul incest to abuse your soul ;
Where now you 're both a father and a son,
By your untimely claspings with your child,
Which pleasure fits an husband, not a father ;
And she an eater of her mother's flesh,
By the defiling of her parent's bed ; [feed
And both like serpents are, who, though they
On sweetest flowers, yet they poison breed.
Antioch, farewell ! for wisdom sees, those men
Blush not in actions blacker than the night
Will shun no course to keep them from the light.
One sin I know another doth provoke ;
Murder 's as near to lust as flame to smoke :
Poison and treason are the hands of sin,
Ay, and the targets to put off the shame :
Then, lest my life be cropp'd to keep you clear,
By flight I '11 shun the danger which I fear.
[Exit.
Re-enter ANTIOCHUS.
Ant. He hath found the meaning, for the
which we mean
To have his head.
He must not live to trumpet forth my infamy,
Nor tell the world Antiochus doth sin
In such a loathed manner ;
And therefore instantly this prince must die;
For by his fall my honour must keep high.
Who attends us there?
Enter THALIARD.
Thai. ' Doth your highness call ?
Ant. Thaliard, you 're of our chamber, and
our mind
Partakes her private actions to your secrecy :
And for your faithfulness we will advance you.
Thaliard, behold here 's poison and here 's gold ;
We hate the Prince of Tyre, and thou must kill
him :
It fits thee not to ask the reason why,
Because we bid it. Say, is it done ?
Thai. My lord,
'Tis done.
Ant. Enough.
Enter a Messenger.
Let your breath cool yourself, telling your haste.
Mess. My lord, Prince Pericles is fled.
[Exit.
Ant. As thou
Wilt live, fly after : and as an arrow shot
From a well-experienc'd archer hits the mark
His eye doth level at, so thou ne'er return
Unless thou say Prince Pericles is dead.
Thai. My lord,
If I can get him once within my pistol's length
I '11 make him sure enough : so, farewell to your
highness.
Ant. Thaliard, adieu! [Exit THAL.] Till
Pericles be dead
My heart can lend no succour to my head.
[Exit.
SCENE II. TYRE. A Room in the Palace.
Enter PERICLES.
Per. [ To thosewithout. ] Let none disturb us.
Why should this change of thoughts,
The sad companion, dull-ey'd melancholy,
Be my so us'd a guest as not an hour
In the day's glorious walk, or peaceful night,
The tomb where grief should sleep, can breed
me quiet ?
Here pleasures court mine eyes, and mine eyes
shun them,
And danger, which I fear'd, is at Antioch,
Whose aim seems far too short to hit me here :
Yet neither pleasure's art can joy my spirits,
Nor yet the other's distance comfort me.
Then it is thus : the passions of the mind,
That have their first conception by mis-dread s
Have after-nourishment and life by care ;
And what was first but fear what might be done,
Grows elder now, and cares it be not done.
And so with me : the great Antiochus,
'Gainst whom I am too little to contend,
Since he 's so great, can make his will his act,
Will think me speaking, though I swear to
silence ;
Nor boots it me to say I honour him,
If he suspect I may dishonour him :
And what may make him blush in being known,
He'll stop the course by which it might be
known ;
With hostile forces he '11 o'erspread the land,
And with the ostent of war will look so huge,
Amazement shall drive courage from the state ;
Our men be vanquish'd ere they do resist,
And subjects punish'd that ne'er thought offence .-
Which care of them, not pity of myself,
Who once no more but as the tops of trees.
SCENE II.]
PERICLES, PRINCE OF TYRE.
1001
Which fence the roots they grow by, and
defend them,
Makes both my body pine and soul to languish,
And punish that before that he would punish.
Enter HELICANUS and other Lords.
1 Lord. Joy and all comfort in your sacred
breast ! [to us,
2 Lord. And keep your mind till you return
Peaceful and comfortable !
Hel. Peace, peace, my lords, and give ex-
perience tongue.
They do abuse the king that flatter him :
For flattery is the bellows blows up sin ;
The thing the which is flatter'd, but a spark,
To which that blast gives heat and stronger
Whereas reproof, obedient, and in order,
Fits kings, as they are men, for they may err.
When Signior Sooth here does proclaim a peace
He flatters you, makes war upon your life.
Prince, pardon me, or strike me if you please ;
I cannot be much lower than my knees.
Per. All leave us else ; but let your cares
o'erlook
What shipping and what lading 's in our haven,
And then return to us. [Exeunt Lords.] Heli-
canus, thou
Hast moved us : what seest thou in our looks ?
Hel. An angry brow, dread lord.
Per. If there be such a dart in princes' frowns,
How durst thy tongue move anger to our face ?
Hel. How dare the plants look up to heaven,
from whence
They have their nourishment ?
Per. Thou know'st I have power
To take thy life from thee. [self ;
Hel. [Kneeling. ] I have ground the axe my-
Do you but strike the blow.
Per. Rise, pr'ythee, rise.
Sit down, sit down: thou art no flatterer :
I thank thee for it ; and heaven forbid
That kings should let their ears hear their
faults chid !
Fit counsellor and servant for a prince,
Who by thy wisdom mak'st a prince thy servant,
What wouldst thou have me do ?
Hel. To bear with patience
Such griefs as you yourself do layupon yourself.
Per. Thou speak'st like a physician, Heli-
canus,
That minister's! a potion unto me
That thou wouldst tremble to receive thyself.
Attend me, then : I went to Antioch,
Where, as thou know'st, against the face of
death,
I sought the purchase of a glorious beauty,
From whence an issue I might propagate,
Are arms to princes, and bring joys to subjects.
Her face was to mine eye beyond all wonder ;
The rest, hark in thine ear, as black as
incest :
Which by my knowledge found, the sinful father
Seem'd not to strike, but smooth : but thou
know'st this,
'Tis time to fear when tyrants seem to kiss.
Which fear so grew in me, I hither fled,
Under the covering of a careful night,
Who seem'd my good protector ; and, being here,
Bethought me what was past, what might
succeed.
I knew him tyrannous ; and tyrants' fears
Decrease not, but grow faster than their years :
And should he doubt it, as no doubt he doth,
That I should open to the listening air
How many worthy princes' bloods were shed
To keep his bed of blackness unlaid ope,
To lop that doubt, he '11 fill this land with arms,
And make pretence of wrong that I have done
him ;
When all, for mine, if I may call offence,
Must feel war's blow, who spares not innocence :
Which love to all, of which thyself art one,
Who now reprov'st me for it,
Hel. Alas, sir !
Per. Drew sleep out of mine eyes, blood from
my cheeks,
Musings into my mind, with thousand doubts
How I might stop this tempest ere it came ;
And, finding little comfort to relieve them,
I thought it princely charity to grieve them.
Hel. Well, my lord, since you have given me
leave to speak,
Freely will I speak. Antiochus you fear,
And justly too, I think, you fear the tyrant,
Who either by public war or private treason
Will take away your life.
Therefore, my lord, go travel for awhile,
Till that his rage and anger be forgot,
Or till the Destinies do cut his thread of life,
Your rule direct to any ; if to me,
Day serves not light more faithful than I '11 be.
Per. I do not doubt thy faith ;
But should he wrong my liberties in my absence?
Hel. We '11 mingle our bloods together in the
earth,
From whence we had our being and our birth.
Per. Tyre, I now look from thee, then, and
to Tharsus
Intend my travel, where I'll hear from thee ;
And by whose letters I '11 dispose myself.
The care I had and have of subjects' good
On thee I lay, whose wisdom's strength can
bear it.
1002
PERICLES, PRINCE OF TYRE.
[ACT i.
I'll take thy word for faith, not ask thine oath :
Who shuns not to break one will sure crack
both:
But in our orbs we '11 live so round and safe,
That time of both this truth shall ne'er convince,
Thou show'dst a subject's shine, I a true prince.
[Exetint.
SCENE III. TYRE. An Ante-chamber in the
Palace.
Enter THALIARD.
Thai. So, this is Tyre, and this the court.
Here must I kill King Pericles ; and if I do it
not, I am sure to be hanged at home : 'tis
dangerous. Well, I perceive he was a wise
fellow, and had good discretion, that, being
bid to ask what he would of the king, desired
he might know none of his secrets. Now do I
see he had some reason for 't : for if a king bid
a man be a villain, he is bound by the indenture
of his oath to be one. Hush ! here come the
lords of Tyre.
, ESCANES, and other Lords.
HeL You shall not need, my fellow peers of
Tyre,
Further to question me of your king's departure :
His seal'd commission, left in trust with me,
Doth speak sufficiently he 's gone to travel.
Thai. [Aside.'} How ! the king gone !
HeL If further yet you will be satisfied,
Why, as it were unlicens'd of your loves,
He would depart, I '11 give some light unto you.
Being at Antioch,
Thai. [Aside.] What from Antioch?
Hel. Royal Antiochus, on what cause I
know not, [so :
Took some displeasure at him ; at leasthe judg'd
And doubting lest that he had err'd or sinn'd,
To show his sorrow, he 'd correct himself ;
So puts himself unto the shipman's toil,
With whom each minute threatens life or death.
Thai. [Aside.'} Well, I perceive
I shall not be hang'd now although I would ;
But since he 's gone, the king's ears it must please
He 'scap'd the land to perish on the seas.
I '11 present myself. Peace to the lords of Tyre !
Hel. Lord Thaliard from Antiochus is wel-
come.
Thai. From him I come
With message unto princely Pericles ;
But since my landing I have understood
Your lord has betook himself to unknown
travels,
My message must return from whence it came.
Hel. We have no reason to desire it,
Commended to our master, not to us :
Yet, ere you shall depart, this we desire,
As friends to Antioch, we may feast in Tyre.
\Exettnt.
SCENE IV. THARSUS. A Room in the
Governor's House.
Enter CLEON, DIONYZA, and Attendants.
Cle. My Dionyza, shall we rest us here,
And by relating tales of others' griefs
See if 'twill teach us to forget our own ?
Dio. That were to blow at fire in hope to
quench it ;
For who digs hills because they do aspire
Throws down one mountain to cast up a higher.
my distressed lord, even such our griefs are;
Here they 're but felt, and seen with mischiefs
eyes,
But like to groves, being topp'd, they higher rise.
Cle. O Dionyza,
Who wanteth food, and will not say he wants it,
Or can conceal his hunger till he famish ?
Our tongues and sorrows do sound deep
Our woes into the air ; our eyes do weep,
Till tongues fetch breath that may proclaim
them louder ; [want,
That, if heaven slumber while their creatures
They may awake their helps to comfort them.
1 '11 then discourse our woes, felt several years,
And, wanting breath to speak, help me with
tears.
Dio. I '11 do my best, sir.
Cle. This Tharsus, o'er which I have the
government,
A city on whom plenty held full hand,
For riches strew'd herself even in the streets ;
Whose towers bore heads so high they kiss'd
the clouds,
And strangers ne'er beheld but wonder'd at ;
Whose men and dames so jetted and adorn'd,
Like one another's glass to trim them by :
Their tables were stor'd full, to glad the sight,
And not so much to feed on as delight ;
All poverty was scorn 'd, and pride so great,
The name of help grew odious to repeat.
Dio. O 'tis too true.
Cle. But see what heaven can do ! By this
our change, [air
These mouths, whom but of late earth, sea, and
Were all too little to content and please,
Although they gave their creatures in abundance,
As houses are defil'd for want of use,
They are now starv'd for want of exercise :
Those palates who, not us'd to savour hunger,
Must have inventions to delight the taste,
SCENE IV.]
PERICLES, PRINCE OF TYRE.
1003
Would now be glad of bread, and beg for it :
Those mothers who, to nousle up their babes,
Thought naught too curious, are ready now
To eat those little darlings whom they lov'd.
So sharp are hunger's teeth, that man and wife
Draw lots who first shall die to lengthen life :
Here stands a lord and there a lady weeping ;
Here many sink, yet those which see them fall
Have scarce strength left to give them burial.
Is not this true ? [it.
Dio. Our cheeks and hollow eyes do witness
Cle. O, let those cities that of Plenty's cup
And her prosperities so largely taste,
With their superfluous riots, hear these tears !
The misery of Tharsus may be theirs.
Enter a Lord.
Lord. Where 's the lord governor ?
Cle. Here. [haste,
Speak out thy sorrows which thou bring'st in
For comfort is too far for us to expect.
Lord. We have descried, upon our neigh-
bouring shore,
A portly sail of ships make hitherward.
Cle. I thought as much.
One sorrow never comes but brings an heir
That may succeed as his inheritor ;
And so in ours : some neighbouring nation,
Taking advantage of our misery, [power,
Hath stufFd these hollow vessels with their
To beat us down, the which are down already ;
And make a conquest of unhappy we,
Whereas no glory 's got to overcome.
Lord. That 's the least fear ; for by the sem-
blance [peace,
Of their white flags display'd, they bring us
And come to us as favourers, not as foes.
Cle. Thou speak'st like him's untutor'd to
repeat :
Who makes the fairest show means most deceit.
But bring they what they will, and what they
can,
What need we fear ? [there.
The ground 's the lowest, and we are half way
Go tell their general we attend him here,
To know for what he comes, and whence he
comes,
And what he craves.
Lord. I go, my lord. [Exit.
Cle. Welcome is peace, if he on peace consist ;
If wars, we are unable to resist.
Enter PERICLES, with Attendants.
Per. Lord governor, for so we hear you are,
Let not our ships and number of our men
Be, like a beacon fir'd, to amaze your eyes.
We have heard your miseries as far as Tyre,
And seen the desolation of your streets :
Nor come we to add sorrow to your tears,
But to relieve them of their heavy load ;
And these our ships, you happily may think
Are like the Trojan horse war-stuff'd within
With bloody veins, expecting overthrow,
Are stor'd with corn to make your needy bread,
And give them life whom hunger starv'd half
dead.
All. The gods of Greece protect you !
And we '11 pray for you.
Per. Rise, I pray you, rise :
We do not look for reverence, but for love,
And harbourage for ourself, our ships, and men.
Cle. The which when any shall not gratify,
Or pay you with unthankfulness in thought,
Be it our wives, our children, or ourselves,
The curse of heaven and men succeed their
evils ! [seen,
Till when, the which I hope shall ne'er be
Your grace is welcome to our town and us.
Per. Which welcome we '11 accept ; feast here
a while,
Until our stars that frown lend us a smile.
[Exeunt.
ACT II.
Enter GOWER.
Gow. Here have you seen a mighty king
His child, I wis, to incest bring ;
A better prince, and benign lord,
That will prove awful both in deed and word.
Be quiet, then, as men should be,
Till he hath pass'd necessity.
I '11 show you those in troubles reign,
Losing a mite, a mountain gain.
The good in conversation,
To whom I give my benison,
Is still at Tharsus, where each man
Thinks all is writ he spoken can ;
And, to remember what he does,
Gild his statue to make him glorious :
But tidings to the contrary
Are brought your eyes : what need speak I ?
Dumb show.
Enter, at one side, PERICLES, talking with
CLEON ; their Trains with them. Enter,
at the other, a Gentleman with a letter to
PERICLES, who shows it to CLEON, then
gives the Messenger a reward, and knirhts
him. Exeunt PERICLES and CLEON -with
their Trains, severally.
Good Helicane hath stay'd at home,
Not to eat honey like a drone
1004
PERICLES, PRINCE OF TYRE.
[ACT ii.
From others' labours ; for though he strive
To killen bad, keep good alive ;
And, to fulfil his prince' desire,
Sends word of all that haps in Tyre :
How Thaliard came full bent with sin
And hid intent to murder him ;
And that in Tharsus was not best
Longer for him to make his rest.
He, knowing so, put forth to seas,
Where when men been, there 's seldom ease ;
For now the wind begins to blow ;
Thunder above and deeps below
Make such unquiet that the ship
Should house him safe is wreck'd and split ;
And he, good prince, having all lost,
By waves from coast to coast is toss'd ;
All perishen of man, of pelf,
Ne aught escapen but himself ;
Till fortune, tir'd with doing bad,
Threw him ashore, to give him glad :
And here he comes. What shall be next,
Pardon old Gower, this longs the text.
SCENE I. PENTAPOLIS. An open Place by
the Sea-side.
Enter PERICLES, -wet.
Per. Yet cease your ire, you angry stars of
heaven ! [man
Wind, rain, and thunder, remember, earthly
Is but a substance that must yield to you ;
And I, as fits my nature, do obey you :
Alas, the sea hath cast me on the rocks,
Wash'd me from shore to shore, and left me
breath
Nothing to think on but ensuing death :
Let it suffice the greatness of your powers
To have bereft a prince of all his fortunes ;
And having thrown him from your watery grave,
Here to have death in peace is all he '11 crave.
Enter three Fishermen.
1 Fish. What, ho, Pilch !
2 Fish. Ho, come and bring away the nets !
i Fish. What, Patchbreech, I say !
3 Fish. What say you, master ?
i Fish. Look how thou stirrest now ! come
away, or I '11 fetch thee with a wanion.
3 Fish. Faith, master, I am thinking of the
poor men that were cast away before us even
now.
I Fish. Alas, poor souls, it grieved my heart
to hear what pitiful cries they made to us to
help them, when, well-a-day, we could scarce
help ourselves.
3 Fish. Nay, master, said not I as much
when I saw the porpus how he bounced and
tumbled ? they say they 're half fish half flesh :
a plague on them, they ne'er come but I look
to be washed. Master, I marvel how the fishes
live in the sea.
1 Fish. Why, as men do a-land, the great
ones eat up the little ones : I can compare our
rich misers to nothing so fitly as to a whale ;
'a plays and tumbles, driving the poor fry before
him, and at last devours them all at a mouth-
ful : such whales have I heard on the land,
who never leave gaping till they 've swallow'd
the whole parish, church, steeple, bells, and
all.
Per. [Aside.] A pretty moral.
3 Fish. But, master, if I had been the sex-
ton, I would have been that day in the belfry.
2 Fish. Why, man?
3 Fish. Because he should have swallowed
me too : and when I had been in his belly I
would have kept such a jangling of the bells
that he should never have left till he cast bells,
steeple, church, and parish up again. But ?f
the good King Simonides were of my mind,
Per. [Aside.] Simonides !
3 Fish. He would purge the land of these
drones that rob the bee of her honey.
Per. [Aside.] How from the finny subject of
the sea
These fishers tell the infirmities of men ;
And from their watery empire recollect
All that may men approve or men detect !
Peace be at your labour, honest fishermen.
2 Fish. Honest ! good fellow, what 's that ?
if it be not a day fits you, scratch it out of the
calendar, and nobody will look after it.
Per. Nay, see the sea hath cast upon your
coast,
2 Fish. What a drunken knave was the sea
to cast thee in our way. [wind
Per. A man, whom both the waters and the
In that vast tennis-court hath made the ball
For them to play upon, entreats you pity him ;
He asks of you that never used to beg.
1 Fish. No, friend, cannot you beg? here's
them in our country of Greece gets more with
begging than we can do with working.
2 Fish. Canst thou catch any fishes, then ?
Per. I never practised it.
2 Fish. Nay, then thou wilt starve, sure ;
for here 's nothing to be got now-a-days unless
thou canst fish for't.
Per. What I have been I have forgot to know;
But what I am want teaches me to think on :
A man throng'd up with cold ; my veins are
chill,
And have no more life than may suffice
SCENE I.]
PERICLES, PRINCE OF TYRE.
1005
To give my tongue that heat to ask your help ;
Which if you shall refuse, when I am dead,
For that I am a man, pray see me buried.
1 Fish. Diequoth-a? Now gods forbid ! I
have a gown here ; come, put it on ; keep thee
warm. Now, afore me, a handsome fellow !
Come, thou shalt go home, and we '11 have
flesh for holidays, fish for fasting-days, and
moreo'er puddings and flapjacks ; and thou
shalt be welcome.
Per. I thank you, sir.
2 Fish. Hark you, my friend, you said you
could not beg.
Per. I did but crave.
2 Fish. But crave! Then 111 turn craver
too, and so I shall scape whipping.
Per. Why, are all your beggars whipped,
then?
2 Fish. O, not all, my friend, not all ; for if
all your beggars were whipped, I would wish
no better office than to be beadle. But, master,
I '11 go draw up the net.
[Exeunt -with Third Fisherman.
Per. [Aside.} How well this honest mirth
becomes their labour !
I Fish. Hark you, sir, do you know where
ye are ?
Per. Not well.
i Fish. Why, I '11 tell you : this is called
Pentapolis, and our king the good Simonides.
Per. The good King Simonides, do you call
him ?
I Fish. Ay, sir ; and he deserves so to be
called for his peaceable reign and good govern-
ment.
_ Per. He is a happy king, since he gains from
his subjects the name of good by his govern-
ment. How far is his court distant from this
shore ?
i Fish. Marry, sir, half a day's journey : and
I '11 tell you, he hath a fair daughter, and to-
morrow is her birthday ; and there are princes
and knights come from all parts of the world
to joust and tourney for her love.
Per. Were but my fortunes equal my desires
I could wish to make one there.
1 Fish. O, sir, things must be as they may ;
and what a man cannot get he may lawfully
deal for his wife 's soul.
Re-enter Second and Third Fishermen, draw-
ing up a net.
2 Fish. Help, master, help ! here 's a fish
hangs in the net like a poor man's right in the
law ; 'twill hardly come out. Ha ! bots on 't,
'tis come at last, and 'tis turned to a rusty
armour.
Per. An armour, friends ! I pray you, let me
see it.
Thanks, fortune, yet, that after all my crosses
Thou giv'st me somewhat to repair myself;
And though it was mine own, part of my heri-
tage,
Which my dead father did bequeath to me,
With this strict charge, even as he left his
life,
Keep it, my Pericles ; it hath been a shield
'Twixt me and death; and pointed to this
brace :
For that it sav'd me, keep it; in like necessity ,
The which gods protect thee from ! may defend
thee.
It kept where I kept, I so dearly lov'd it :
Till the rough seas, that spare not any man,
Took it in rage, though calm'd have given 't
again :
I thank thee for 't : my shipwreck now 's no
ill;
Since I have here my father's gift in 's will.
I Fish. What mean you, sir?
Per. To beg of you, kind friends, this coat
of worth,
For it was sometime target to a king ;
I know it by this mark. He lov'd me dearly,
And for his sake I wish the having of it ;
And that you'd guide me to your sovereign's
court,
Where with it I may appear a gentleman ;
And if that ever my low fortunes better,
I '11 pay your bounties; till then rest your debtor.
I Fish. Why, wilt thou tourney for the lady?
Per. I'll show the virtue I have borne in arms.
1 Fish. Why, do you take it, and the gods
give thee good on 't !
2 Fish. Ay, but hark you, my friend ; 'twas
we that made up this garment through the
rough seams of the waters: there are certain
condolements, certain vails. I hope, sir, if you
thrive, you'll remember from whence you had
it.
Per. Believe 't, I will.
By your furtherance I am cloth'd in steel;
And spite of all the rupture of the sea
This jewel holds his building on my arm:
Unto thy value I will mount myself
Upon a courser, whose delightful steps
Shall make the gazer joy to see him tread.
Only, my friends, I yet am unprovided
Of a pair of bases.
2 Fish. We '11 sure provide : thou shalt have
my best gown to make thee a pair; and I'll
bring thee to the court myself.
Per. Then honour be but a goal to my will;
This day I '11 rise, or else add ill to ill. [Exeunt.
ioo6
PERICLES, PRINCE OF TYRE.
[ACT ii.
SCENE II. PENTAPOLIS. A public Way or
Platform leading to the Lists. A Pavilion
by the side of it for the reception of the King,
Princess, Lords, &c.
Enter SIMONIDES, THAISA, Lords, and
Attendants.
Sim. Are the knights ready to begin the
triumph ?
I Lord. They are, my liege;
And stay your coming to present themselves.
Sim. Return them, we are ready; and our
daughter,
In honour of whose birth these triumphs are,
Sits here, like beauty's child, whom nature gat
For men to see, and seeing wonder at.
[Exit a Lord.
Thai. It pleaseth you, my royal father, to
express
My commendations great, whose merit 's less.
Sim. It's fit it should be so; for princes are
A model which heaven makes like to itself :
As jewels lose their glory if neglected,
So princes their renown if not respected.
'Tis now your labour, daughter, to explain
The honour of each knight in his device.
That. Which, to preserve mine honour,
I '11 perform.
Enter a Knight; he passes over, and his Squire
presents his shield to the Princess.
Sim. Who is the first that doth prefer himself?
7'Aai. A knight of Sparta, my renowned father;
And the device he bears upon his shield
Is a black ^Ethiop reaching at the sun ;
The word, 'Lux tua vita mihi.
Sim. He loves you well that holds his life of
you. \_The Second Knight passes.
Who is the second that presents himself?
Thai. A prince of Macedon, my royal father ;
And the device he bears upon his shield
Is an arm'd knight that 's conquer'd by a lady ;
The motto thus, in Spanish, Piu por dulzura
que porfuerza.
[The Third Knight passes.
Sim. And what's the third?
Thai. The third of Antioch ;
And his device a wreath of chivalry ;
The word, Me pompce provexit apex.
[The Fourth Knight passes.
Sim. What is the fourth?
Thai. A burning torch that 's turned upside
down ;
The word, Quod me atit, me extingiiit.
Sim. Which shows that beauty hath his
power and will,
Which can as well inflame as it can kill.
[The Fifth Knight passes.
ThaL The fifth, an hand environed with
clouds, [tried ;
Holding out gold that's by the touchstone
The motto thus, Sic spectanda fides. v > -ml i
[The Sixth Knight (PERICLES) passes.
Sim. And what's the sixth and last, the
which the knight himself
With such a graceful courtesy deliver'd ?
Thai. He seems to be a stranger; but his
present is
A wither'd branch, that's only green at top;
The motto, In hoc spe vivo.
Sim. A pretty moral ;
From the dejected state wherein he is,
He hopes by you his fortunes yet may flourish.
1 Lord. He had need mean better than his
outward show
Can any way speak in his just commend ;
For, by his rusty outside, he appears [lance.
To have practis'd more the whipstock than the
2 Lord. He well may be a stranger, for he
comes
To an honour'd triumph strangely furnislied.
3 Lord. And on set purpose let his armour
rust
Until this day, to scour it in the dust.
Sim. Opinion's but a fool, that makes us scan
The outward habit by the inward man.
But stay, the knights are coming: we will
withdraw
Into the gallery. [Exeunt.
[Great shouts within , all crying ' ' The
mean knight!"
girf, moii j^-.-'ib >:!jo.j sir: cl i& v/oH .jrarn
SCENE III. PENTAPOLIS. A Hall of State:
A Banquet prepared.
Enter SIMONIDES, THAISA, Lords, Knights,
and Attendants.
Sim. Knights,
To say you are welcome were superfluous.
To place upon the volume of your deeds,
As in a title-page, your worth in arms
Were more than you expect, or more than 's fit,
Since every worth in show commends itself.
Prepare for mirth, for mirth becomes a feast :
You are princes and my guests.
Thai. But you my knight and guest ;
To whom this wreath of victory I give,
And crown you king of this day's happiness.
Per. 'Tis more by fortune, lady, than by
merit. [yours ;
Sim. Call it by what you will, the day is
SCENE III.]
PERICLES, PRINCE OF TYRE.
1007
And here I hope is none that envies it.
In framing an artist, art hath thus decreed,
To make some good, but others to exceed,
And you're her labour'd scholar. Come,
queen o' the feast, [place:
For, daughter, so you are, here take your
Marshal the rest, as they deserve their grace.
Knights. We are honour'd much by good
Simonides. [we love;
Sim. Your presence glads our days : honour
For who hates honour hates the gods above.
Marshal. Sir, yonder is your place.
Per. Some other is more fit.
i Knight. Contend not, sir; for we are
gentlemen
That neither in our hearts nor outward eyes
Envy the great, nor do the low despise.
Per. You are right courteous knights.
Sim. Sit, sir, sit.
_$&Per. By Jove, I wonder, that is king of
thoughts,
These cates resist me, she but thought upon.
K- Thai. By Juno, that is queen
Of marriage, all viands that I eat
Do seem unsavoury, wishing him my meat.
Sure he 's a gallant gentleman.
1^ Sim. He 's but a country gentleman ;
Has done no more than other knights have done;
Has broken a staff or so ; so let it pass.
n Thai. To me he seems like diamond to glass.
^ Per. Yon king 's to me like to my father's
picture,
Which tells me in that glory once he was;
Had princes sit, like stars, about his throne,
And he the sun, for them to reverence;
None that beheld him but, like lesser lights,
Did vail their crowns to his supremacy :
Where now his son 's like a glowworm in the
night,
The which hath fire in darkness, none in light :
Whereby I see that Time 's the king of men,
For he 's their parent, and he is their grave,
And gives them what he will, not what they
crave.
Sim. What, are you merry, knights ?
I Knight. Who can be other in this royal
presence ?
Sim. Here, with a cup that 's stor'd unto the
brim,
As you do love, fill to your mistress' lips,
We drink this health to you.
Knights. We thank your grace.
Sim. Yet pause awhile :
Yon knight, methinks, doth sit too melancholy,
As if the entertainment in our court
Had not a show might countervail his worth.
Note it not you, Thaisa I
Thai. What is it
To me, my ther ?
Sim. O, attend, my daughter:
Princes, in this, should live like gods above,
Who freely give to every one that comes
To honour them :
And princes not doing so are like to gnats,
Which make a sound, but kill'd are wonder'd at.
Therefore to make his entrance more sweet,
Here, say we drink this standing-bowl of wine
to him.
Thai. Alas, my father, it befits not me
Unto a stranger knight to be so bold :
He may my proffer take for an offence,
Since men take women's gifts for impudence.
Sim. How!
Do as I bid you, or you '11 move me else.
That. [Aside.] Now, by the gods, he could
not please me better.
Sim. And furthermore tell him, we desire to
know of him
Of whence he is, his name and parentage.
Thai. The king my father, sir, has drunk
to you.
Per. I thank him.
Thai. Wishing it so much blood unto your
life. [him freely.
Per. I thank both him and you, and pledge
Thai. And further he desires to know of you
Of whence you are, your name and parentage.
Per. A gentleman of Tyre, my name,
Pericles ;
My education been in arts and arms ;
Who, looking for adventures in the world,
Was by the rough seas reft of ships and men,
And after shipwreck driven upon this shore.
Thai. He thanks your grace ; names himself
Pericles,
A gentleman of Tyre,
Who only by misfortune of the seas,
Bereft of ships and men, cast on this shore.
Sim. Now, by the gods, I pity his misfortune,
And will awake him from his melancholy.
Come, gentlemen, we sit too long on trifles,
And waste the time which looks for other revels.
Even in your armours, as you are address'd,
Will very well become a soldier's dance.
I will not have excuse, with saying this
Loud music is too harsh for ladies' heads,
Since they love men in arms as well as beds.
[ The Knights dance.
So, this was well ask'd , 'twas so well perform'd.
Come, sir ;
Here is a lady that wants breathing too :
And I have often heard you knights of Tyre
Are excellent in making ladies trip ;
And that their measures are as excellent.
r measures are as exceen
s re^tVkfc^ # w-
.^.J.i-,.^ * ftu*
ioo8
PERICLES, PRINCE OF TYRE.
[ACT ii.
Per. In those that practise them they are,
my lord. [denied
Sim. O, that's as much as you would be
Of your fair courtesy. {The Knights and
Ladies dance. ] Unclasp, unclasp :
Thanks, gentlemen, to all ; all have done well,
But you the best. [ To PERICLES. ] Pages and
lights, to conduct [Yours, sir,
These knights unto . their several lodgings !
We have given order to be next our own.
Per. I am at your grace's pleasure.
Sim. Princes, it is too late to talk of love,
And that 's the mark I know you level at :
Therefore each one betake him to his rest ;
To-morrow all for speeding do their best.
\_Exeunt.
SCENE IV. TYRE. A Room in the Governor's
House.
Enter HELICANUS and ESCANES.
Hel. No, Escanes, no ; know this of me,
Antiochus from incest liv'd not free:
For which, the most high gods not minding
longer [store,
To withhold the vengeance that they had in
Due to this heinous capital offence,
Even in the height and pride of all his glory,
When he was seated in a chariot [him,
Of an inestimable value, and his daughter with
A fire from heaven came, and shrivell'd up
Their bodies, even to loathing ; for they so stunk
That all those eyes ador'd them ere their fall
Scorn now their hand should give them burial.
Esca. 'Twas very strange.
Hel. And yet but justice ; for though
This king were great, his greatness was no guard
To bar heaven's shaft, but sin had his reward.
Esca. 'Tis very true.
Enter three Lords.
1 Lord. See, not a man in private conference
Or council has respect with him but he.
2 Lord. It shall no longer grieve without
reproof. [second it.
3 Lord. And curs'd be he that will not
i Lord. Follow me, then. Lord Helicane,
a word. [my lords.
Hel. With me ? and welcome : happy day,
I Lord. Know that our griefs are risen to
the top,
And now a.t length they overflow their banks.
Hel. Your griefs ! for what ? wrong not
your prince you love. [Helicane;
I Lord. Wrong Hot yourself, then, noble
But if the prince do live, let us salute him,
Or know what ground 's made happy by his
breath.
If in the world he live, we '11 seek him out ;
If in his grave he rest, we '11 find him there ;
And be resolv'd he lives to govern us,
Or dead, gives cause to mourn his funeral,
And leaves us to our free election.
2 Lord. Whose death 's indeed the strongest
in our censure :
And knowing this kingdom, if without a head,
Like goodly buildings left without a roof,
Will soon to ruins fall, your noble self,
That best know'st how to rule and how to reign,
We thus submit unto, our sovereign.
All. Live, noble Helicane ! [frages :
Hel. For honour's cause, forbear your suf-
If that you love Prince Pericles, forbear.
Take I your wish, I leap into the seas,
Where 's hourly trouble for a minute's ease.
A twelvemonth longer, let me entreat you
To forbear the absence of your king ;
If in which time expir'd, he not return,
I shall with aged patience bear your yoke.
But if I cannot win you to this love,
Go search like nobles, like noble subjects,
And in your search spend your adventurous
worth ;
Whom if you find, and win unto return,
You shall like diamonds sit about his crown.
I Lord. To wisdom he 's a fool that will not
yield ;
And since Lord Helicane enjoineth us,
We with our travels will endeavour it.
Hel. Then you love us, we you, and we J ll
clasp hands :
When peers thus knit, a kingdom ever stands.
[Exeunt.
SCENE V. PENTAPOLIS. A Room in the
Palace.
Enter SIMONIDES, reading a letter ; the
Knights meet him.
1 Knight. Good-morrow to the good Simon-
ides, [you know,
Sim. Knights, from my daughter this I let
That for this twelvemonth she '11 not undertake
A married life.
Her reason to herself is only known,
Which yet from her by no means can I get.
2 Knight. May we not get access to her, my
lord ? [tied her
Sim. Faith, by no means ; she hath so strictly
To her chamber that it is impossible, [livery ;
One twelve moons more she'll wear Diana's
This by the eye of Cynthia hath she vow'd,
And on her virgin honour will not break it.
SCENE V.]
PERICLES, PRINCE OF TYRE.
1009
3 Knight. Loth to bid farewell, we take our
leaves. [Exeunt Knights.
Sim. So, [letter :
They are well despatch'd ; now to my daughter's
She tells me here she '11 wed the stranger knight,
Or never more to view nor day nor light.
'Tis well, mistress ; your choice agrees with
mine
I like that well : nay, how absolute she 's in 't,
Not minding whether I dislike or no !
Well, I do commend her choice ;
And will no longer have it be delay'd.
Soft ! here he comes : I must dissemble it.
Enter PERICLES.
Per. All fortune to the good Simonides !
Sim. To you as much, sir ! I am beholden
to you
For your sweet music this last night : I do
Protest my ears were never better fed
With such delightful pleasing harmony.
Per. It is your grace's pleasure to commend ;
Not my desert.
Sim. Sir, you are music's master.
Per. The worst of all her scholars, my good
lord.
Sim. Let me ask you one thing :
What do you think of my daughter, sir ?
Per. A most virtuous princess.
Sim. And she is fair too, is she not ?
Per. As a fair day in summer, wondrous
fair. [you ;
Sim. Sir, my daughter thinks very well of
Ay, so well that you must be her master, [it.
And she will be your scholar : therefore look to
Per. I am unworthy for her schoolmaster.
Sim. She thinks not so ; peruse this writing
else.
Per. [Aside.] What's here?
A letter, that she loves the knight of Tyre !
'Tis the king's subtil ty to have my life.
O, seek not to entrap me, gracious lord,
A stranger and distressed gentleman,
That never aim'd so high to love your daughter,
But bent all offices to honour her. [thou art
Sim. Thou hast bewitch'd my daughter, and
A villain.
Per. By the gods, I have not :
Never did thought of mine levy offence ;
Nor never did my actions yet commence
A deed might gain her love or your displeasure.
Sim. Traitor, thou liest.
Per. Traitor I
Sim. Ay, traitor.
Per. Even in his throat, unless it be the
king,
That calls me traitor, I return the lie.
Sim. [Aside.] Now, by the gods, I do ap-
plaud his courage.
Per. My actions are as noble as my thoughts,
That never relish'd of a base descent.
I came unto your court for honour's cause,
And not to be a rebel to her state ;
And he that otherwise accounts of me,
This sword shall prove he 's honour's enemy.
Sim. No?
Here comes my daughter, she can witness it.
Enter THAISA.
Per. Then, as you are as virtuous as fair,
Resolve your angry father if my tongue
Did e'er solicit, or my hand subscribe
To any syllable that made love to you.
Thai. Why, sir, say if you had, [glad ?
Who takes offence at that would make me
Sim. Yea, mistress, are you so peremptory?
[Aside.] I am glad on't with all my heart.
I '11 tame you ; I '11 bring you in subjection.
Will you, not having my consent,
Bestow your love and your affections
Upon a stranger? [aside] who, for aught I
know,
May be, nor can I think the contrary,
As great in blood as I myself.
Therefore, hear you, mistress ; either frame
Your will to mine, and you, sir, hear you,
Either be rul'd by me, or I will make you
Man and wife.
Nay, come, your hands and lips must seal it
too : [stroy ;
And being join'd, I'll thus your hopes de-
And for further grief, God give you joy !
What, are you both pleas'd ?
Thai. Yes, if you love me, sir
Per. Even as my life, or blood that fosters it.
Si m. What, are you both agreed ?
Both. Yes, if 't please your majesty.
Sim. It pleaseth me so well that I will see
you wed ;
And then, with what haste you can, get you to
bed. [Exeunt.
ACT III.
Enter GOWER.
Gow. Now sleep yslaked hath the rout ;
No din but snores the house about,
Made louder by the o'er-fed breast
Of this most pompous marriage feast.
The cat, with eyne of burning coal,
Now couches fore the mouse's hole ;
And crickets sing at the oven's mouth,
Aye the blither for their drouth.
IOIO
PERICLES, PRINCE OF TYRE.
[ACT III.
Hymen hath brought the bride to bed,
Where, by the loss of maidenhead,
A babe is moulded. Be attent,
And time that is so briefly spent
With your fine fancies quaintly eche :
What 's dumb in show I '11 plain with speech.
Dumb Show.
Enter PERICLES #m/ SIMONIDES at one side,
with Attendants ; a Messenger meets them,
kneels, and gives PERICLES a letter: he shows
it to SIMONIDES ; the Lords kneel to PERI-
CLES. Then enter THAIS A, with child, and
LYCHORIDA. SIMONIDES shows his daugh-
ter the letter ; she rejoices: she and PERICLES
take leave of her father, and depart with
LYCHORIDA and their Attendants. Then
exeunt SIMONIDES, &c.
By many a dern and painful perch
Of Pericles the careful search,
By the four opposing coigns
Which the world together joins,
Is made with all due diligence
That horse and sail and high expense
Can stead the quest. At last from Tyre,
Fame answering the most strange inquire,
To the court of King Simonides
Are letters brought, the tenor these :
Antiochus and his daughter 's dead ;
The men of Tyrus on the head
Of Helicanus would set on
The crown of Tyre, but he will none :
The mutiny he there hastes t' oppress ;
Says to 'em, if King Pericles
Come not home in twice six moons,
He, obedient to their dooms,
Will take the crown. The sum of this,
Brought hither to Pentapolis,
Y-ravished the regions round,
And every one with claps can sound,
Our heir-apparent is a king!
Who dreanfd, who thought of such a thing?
Brief, he must hence depart to Tyre :
His queen with child makes her desire,
Which who shall cross ? along to go :
Omit we all their dole and woe :
Lychorida, her nurse, she takes,
And so to sea. Their vessel shakes
On Neptune's billow ; half the flood
Hath their keel cut : but fortune's mood
Varies again ; the grizzly north
Disgorges such a tempest forth
That, as a duck for life that dives,
So up and down the poor ship drives :
The lady shrieks, and, well-a-near,
Does fall in travail with her fear :
And what ensues in this fell storm
Shall for itself itself perform.
I nill relate, action may
Conveniently the rest convey ;
Which might not what by me is told.
In your imagination hold
This stage the ship, upon whose deck
The sea-toss'd Pericles appears to speak.
\Exit.
SCENE I. Enter PERICLES, on a ship at sea.
Per. Thou god of this great vast, rebuke
these surges, [that hast
Which wash both heaven and hell ; and thou
Upon the winds command, bind them in brass,
Having call'd them from the deep ! O, still
Thy deafening, dreadful thunders ; gently quench
Thy nimble, sulphurous flashes ! O, how,
Lychorida, [ously ;
How does my queen ? Thou stormest venom-
Wilt thou spit all thyself? The seaman's
whistle
Is as a whisper in the ears of death,
Unheard. Lychorida! Lucina, O
Divinest patroness, and midwife gentle
To those that cry by night, convey thy deity
Aboard our dancing boat ; make swift the pangs
Of my queen's travail !
Enter LYCHORIDA, with an Infant.
Now, Lychorida !
Lye. Here is a thing too young for such a
place,
Who, if it had conceit, would die, as I
Am like to do : take in your arms this piece
Of your dead queen.
Per. How, how, Lychorida !
Lye. Patience, good sir ; do not assist the
storm.
Here 's all that is left living of your queen,
A little daughter : for the sake of it,
Be manly, and take comfort.
Per. O you gods !
Why do you make us love your goodly gifts,
And snatch them straight away? We here
below
Recall not what we give, and therein may
Vie in honour with you.
Lye. Patience, good sir,
Even for this charge.
Per. Now, mild may be thy life !
For a more blusterous birth had never babe :
Quiet and gentle thy conditions ! for
Thou art the rudeliest welcom'd to this world
That ever was prince's child. Happy what
follows !
Thou hast as chiding a nativity
SCENE I."
PERICLES, PRINCE OF TYRE.
10 1 I
As fire, air, water, earth, and heaven can make,
To herald thee from the womb : even at the first
Thy loss is more than can thy portage quit,
With all thou cansL find here. Now, the good
gods
Throw their best eyes upon 't !
Enter tivo Sailors.
I Sail. What courage, sir ? God save you !
Per. Courage enough : I do not fear the flaw;
It hath done to me the worst. Yet, for the love
Of this poor infant, this fresh-new seafarer,
I would it would be quiet.
1 Sail. Slack the bolins there ! Thou wilt
not, wilt thou? Blow, and split thyself.
2 Sail. But sea-room, and the brine and
cloudy billow kiss the moon, I care not.
I Sail. Sir, your queen must overboard: the
sea works high, the wind is loud, and will not
lie till the ship be cleared of the dead.
Per. That 's your superstition.
1 Sail. Pardon us, sir ; with us at sea it hath
been still observed; and we are strong in
custom. Therefore briefly yield her; for she
must ove board straight. [queen !
Per. As you think meet. Most wretched
Lye. Here she lies, sir.
Per. A terrible childbed hast thou had, my
dear;
No light, no fire : the unfriendly elements
Forgot thee utterly ; nor have I time
To give thee hallow'd to thy grave, but straight
Must cast thee, scarcely coffin'd, in the ooze ;
Where, for a monument upon thy bones,
And aye-remaining lamps, the belching whale
And humming water must o'erwhelm thy corpse,
Lying with simple shells. O Lychorida,
Bid Nestor bring me spices, ink and paper,
My casket and my jewels; and bid Nicander
Bring me the satin coffer : lay the babe
Upon the pillow: hie thee, whiles I say
A priestly farewell to her : suddenly, woman.
[Exit LYCHORIDA.
2 Sail. Sir, we have a chest beneath the
hatches, caulked and bitumed ready.
Per. I thank thee. Mariner, say what coast
is this?
2 Sail. We are near Tharsus.
Per. Thither, gentle mariner,
Alter thy course for Tyre. When canst thou
reach it?
2 Sail. By break of day, if the wind cease.
Per. O, make for Tharsus !
There will I visit Cleon, for the babe
Cannot hold out to Tyrus: there I ''11 leave it
At careful nursing. Go thy ways, good mariner:
I '11 bring the body presently. [Exeunt.
SCENE II.- EPHESUS. A Room in
CERIMON'S House.
Enter CERIMON, a Servant, and some persons
who have been shipwrecked.
Cer. Philemon, ho !
Enter PHILEMON.
Phil. Doth my lord call?
Cer. Get fire and meat for these poor men :
It has been a turbulent and stormy night.
Serv. I have been in many ; but such a night
as this,
Till now, I ne'er endur'd. [turn ;
Cer. Your master will be dead ere you re-
There 's nothing can be minister'd to nature
That can recover him. Give this to the 'pothe-
cary,
And tell me how it works. \To PHILEMON.
[Exeunt all but CERIMON.
Enter two Gentlemen.
1 Gent. Good-morrow, sir.
2 Gent. Good-morrow to your lordship.
Cer. Gentlemen,
Why do you stir so early ?
1 Gent. Sir,
Our lodgings, standing bleak upon the sea,
Shook as the earth did quake ;
The very principals did seem to rend,
And all to topple : pure surprise and fear
Made me to quit the house. [early ;
2 Gent. That is the cause we trouble you so
'Tis not our husbandry.
Cer. O, you say well.
I Gent. But I much marvel that your lord-
ship, having
Rich tire about you, should at these early hours
Shake off the golden slumber of repose.
It is most strange
Nature should be so conversant with pain,
Being thereto not compell'd.
Cer. I held it ever,
Virtue and cunning were endowments greater
Than nobleness and riches : careless heirs
May the two latter darken and expend ;
But immortality attends the former,
Making a man a god. 'Tis known I ever
Have studied physic, through which secret art,
By turning o'er authorities, I have,
Together with my practice, made familiar
To me and to my aid the blest infusions
That dwell in vegetives, in metals, stones ;
And I can speak of the disturbances
That nature works, and of her cures ; which
give me
IOI2
PERICLES, PRINCE OF TYRE.
[ACT in.
A more content in course of true delight
Than to be thirsty after tottering honour,
Or tie my treasure up in silken bags,
To please the fool and death. [pour'd forth
2 Gent. Your honour has through Ephesus
Your charity, and hundreds call themselves
Your creatures, who by you have been restor'd :
And not your knowledge, your personal pain,
but even
Your purse, still open, hath built Lord Cerimon
Such strong renown as time shall never raze.
Enter two Servants with a chest.
I Serv. So ; lift there.
Cer. What is that?
1 Serv. Sir, even now
Did the sea toss upon our shore this chest :
'Tis of some wreck.
Cer. Set 't down, let 's look upon 't.
2 Gent. 'Tis like a coffin, sir.
Cer. Whate'er it be,
'Tis wondrous heavy. Wrench it open straight :
If the sea's stomach be o'ercharg'd with gold,
It is a good constraint of fortune that
It belches upon us.
2 Gent. 'Tis so, my lord.
Cer. How close 'tis caulk'd and bitum'd !
Did the sea cast it up ?
1 Serv. I never saw so huge a billow, sir,
As toss'd it upon shore.
Cer. Wrench it open ;
Soft ! it smells most sweetly in my sense.
2 Gent. A delicate odour.
Cer. As ever hit my nostril. So, up with
it.
O you most potent gods ! what 's here ? a
corse !
1 Gent. Most strange! [entreasur'd
Cer. Shrouded in cloth of state ; balm'cl and
With bags of spices full ! A passport too !
Apollo, perfect me in the characters !
[Reads from a scroll.
Here I give to understand,
If e'er this coffin drive a-land,
I, King Pericles, have lost
This queen, worth all our mundane cost.
Who finds her, give her burying ;
She^was the daughter of a king :
Besides this treasure for a fee,
The gods requite his charity?
lthou liv'st, Pericles, thou hast a heart
That even cracks for woe ! This chanc'd to-
night.
2 Gent. Most likely, sir.
Cer. Nay, certainly to-night ;
r For look how fresh she looks ! They were too
rough
That threw her in the sea. Make a fire within:
Fetch hither all my boxes in my closet.
[Exit a Servant.
Death may usurp on nature many hours,
And yet the fire of life kindle again
The o'erpress'd spirits. I heard of an Egyptian
That had nine hours lien dead,
Who was by good appliances recover'd.
Re-enter a Servant, with boxes, napkins, and
fire.
Well said, well said; the fire and cloths.
The rough and woeful music that we have,
Cause it to sound, beseech you. [block !
The viol once more : how thou stirr'st, thou
The music there ! I pray you, give her air. -
Gentlemen,
This queen will live : nature awakes ; a warmth
Breathes out of her : she hath not been en-
tranc'd
Above five hours : see how she 'gins to blow
Into life's flower again !
1 Gent. The heavens,
Through you, increase our wonder, and set up
Your fame for ever.
Cer. She is alive ; behold,
Her eyelids, cases to those heavenly jewels
Which Pericles hath lost,
Begin to part their fringes of bright gold;
The diamonds of a most praised water
Do appear, to make the world twice rich. Live,
And make us weep to hear your fate, fair
creature,
Rare as you seem to be. [She moves.
Thai. O dear Diana,
Where am I? Where's my lord? What
world is this?
2 Gent. Is not this strange?
I Gent. Most rare.
Cer. Hush, my gentle neighbours!
Lend me your hands ; to the next chamber bear
her.
Get linen : now this matter must be look'd to,
For her relapse is mortal. Come, come ;
And ^Esculapius guide us !
[Exeunt, carrying out THAISA*
SCENE III. THARSUS. A Room in CLEON'S
House.
Enter PERICLES, CLEON, DIONYZA, and LY-
CHORIDA with MARINA in her arms.
Per. Most honour'd Cleon, I must needs be
gone;
My twelvemonths are expir'd, and Tyrus stands
In a litigious peace. You and your lady
SCENE III.]
PERICLES, PRINCE OF TYRE.
1013
Take from my heart all thankfulness! The
gods
Make up the rest upon you !
Cle. Your shafts of fortune, though they hurt
you mortally,
Yet glance full wanderingly on us.
Dion. O your sweet queen !
That the strict fates had pleas d you had brought
her hither,
To have bless'd mine eyes !
Per. We cannot but obey
The powers above us. Could I rage and roar
As doth the sea she lies in, yet the end
Must be as 'tis. My gentle babe Marina,
whom,
For she was born at sea, I have nam'd so,
here
I charge your charity withal, leaving her
The infant of your care ; beseeching you
To give her princely training, that she may
be
Manner'd as she is born.
Cle. Fear not, my lord, but think
Your grace, that fed my country with your
corn,
For which the people's prayers still fall upon
you,
Must in your child be thought on. If neglection
Should therein make me vile, the common body,
By you reliev'd, would force me to my duty :
But if to that my nature need a spur,
The gods revenge it upon me and mine
To the end of generation !
Per. I believe you ;
Your honour and your goodness teach me to 't
Without your vows. Till she be married,
madam,
By bright Diana, whom we honour, all
Unscissar'd shall this hair of mine remain,
Though I show ill in 't. So I take my leave.
Good madam, make me blessed in your care
In bringing up my child.
Dion. I have one myself,
Who shall not be more dear to my respect
Than yours, my lord.
Per. Madam, my thanks and prayers.
Cle. We '11 bring your grace e'en to the edge
o' the shore,
Then give you up to the vast Neptune and
The gentlest winds of heaven.
Per. I will embrace
Your offer. Come, dearest madam. O, no
tears,
Lychorida, no tears:
Look to your little mistress, on whose grace
You may depend hereafter. Come, my lord.
[Exeunt.
SCENE IV. EPHESUS. A Room in CERI-
MON'S House.
Enter CERIMON and THAISA.
Cer. Madam, this letter, and some certain
jewels,
Lay with you in your coffer : which are now
At your command. Know you the character?
Thai. It is my lord's.
That I was shipp'd at sea I well remember,
Even on my eaning time ; but whether there
Deliver'd, by the holy gods,
I cannot rightly say. But since King Pericles,
My wedded lord, I ne'er shall see again,
A vestal livery will I take me to,
And never more have joy.
Cer. Madam, if this you purpose as you speak,
Diana's temple is not distant far,
Where you may abide till your date expire.
Moreover, if you please, a niece of mine
Shall there attend you.
Thai. My recompense is thanks, that 's all ;
Yet my good-will is great, though the gift
small. [Exeunt.
ACT IV.
Enter GOWER.
Gow. Imagine Pericles arriv'd at Tyre,
Welcom'd and settled to his own desire.
His woeful queen we leave at Ephesus,
Unto Diana there a votaress.
Now to Marina bend your mind,
Whom our fast growing scene must find
At Tharsus, and by Cleon train'd
In music, letters ; who hath gain'd
Of education all the grace,
Which makes her both the heart and place
Of general wonder. But, alack,
That monster envy, oft the wrack
Of earned praise, Marina's life
Seeks to take off by treason's knife.
And in this kind hath our Cleon
One daughter, and a wench full grown,
Even ripe for marriage-rite ; this maid
Hight Philoten : and it is said
For certain in our story, she
Would ever with Marina be :
Be 't when she weav'd the sleided silk
With fingers long, small, white as milk ;
Or when she would with sharp needle wound
The cambric, which she made more sound
By hurting it ; or when to the lute
She sung, and made the night-bird mute,
That still records with moan ; or when
PERICLES, PRINCE OF TYRE.
[ACT iv.
She would with rich and constant pen
Vail to her mistress Dian ; still
This Philoten contends in skill
With absolute Marina : so
With the dove of Paphos might the crow
Vie feathers white. Marina gets
All praises, which are paid as debts,
And not as given. This so darks
In Philoten all graceful marks
That Cleon's wife, with envy rare,
A present murderer does prepare
For good Marina, that her daughter
Might stand peerless by this slaughter.
The sooner her vile thoughts to stead,
Lychorida, our nurse, is dead :
And cursed Dionyza hath
The pregnant instrument of wrath
Prest for this blow. The unborn event
I do commend to your content :
Only I carry winged time
Post on the lame feet of my rhyme-,
Which never could I so convey
Unless your thoughts went on my way.
Dionyza does appear,
With Leonine, a murderer. [Exit.
SCENE I. THARSUS. An open Place near
the Sea-shore,
Enter DIONYZA and LEONINE.
Dion. Thy oath remember ; thou hast sworn
to do 't.
'Tis but a blow, which never shall be known.
Thou canst not do a thing i' the world so soon
To yield thee so much profit. Let not con-
science, [bosom,
Which is but cold, inflaming love in thy
Inflame too nicely ; nor let pity, which
Even women have cast off, melt thee, but be
A soldier to thy purpose.
Leon. I will do't; but yet she is a goodly
creature. [her.
Dion. The fitter, then, the gods should have
Here she comes weeping for her only mistress'
death.
Thou art resolv'd?
Leon. I am resolv'd.
Enter MARINA with a basket of flowers.
Mar. No, I will rob Tellus of her weed,
To strew thy green with flowers: the yellows,
blues,
The purple violets, and marigolds
Shall as a carpet hang upon thy grave [maid,
While summer-days do last. Ay me ! poor
Born in a tempest, when my mother died,
This world to me is like a lasting storm,
Whirring me from my friends.
Dion. How now, Marina ! why do you keep
alone?
How chance my daughter is not with you?
Do not [have
Consume your blood with sorrowing : you
A nurse of me. Lord, how your favour's
chang'd
With this unprofitable woe ! Come,
Give me your flowers ere the sea mar them.
Walk with Leonine ; the air is quick there,
And it pierces and sharpens the stomach.
Come,
Leonine, take her by the arm, walk with her.
Mar. No, I pray you ;
I '11 not bereave you of your servant.
Dion. Come, come;
I love the king your father, and yourself,
With more than foreign heart. We every day
Expect him here : when he shall come, and find
Our paragon to all reports thus blasted,
He will repent the breadth of this great voyage ;
Blame both my lord and me that we have taken
No care to your best courses. Go, I pray you,
Walk, and be cheerful once again ; reserve
That excellent complexion, which did steal
The eyes of young and old. Care not for me
I can go home alone.
Mar. Well, I will go ;
But yet I have no desire to it. [you.-- .
Dion. Come, come, I know 'tis good for
Walk half an hour, Leonine, at the least :
Remember what I have said.
Leon. I warrant you, madam.
Dion. I'll leave you, my sweet lady, for
awhile :
Pray, walk softly, do not heat your blood :
What ! I must have a care of you.
Mar. My thanks, sweet madam.
[Exit. DIONYZA.
Is this wind westerly that blows?
Leon. South-west.
Mar. When I was born the wind was north.
Leon. Was 't so ?
Mar. My father, as nurse said, did never fear,
But cried, Good seamen! to the sailors, galling
His kingly hands with hauling of the ropes ;
And, clasping to the mast, endur'd a sea
That almost burst the deck.
Leon. When was this?
Mar. When I was born :
Never was waves nor wind more violent ;
And from the ladder-tackle washes off
A canvas-climber: Ha! says one, wilt out?
And with a dropping industry they skip
From stem to stern : the boatswain whistles, and
The master calls, and trebles their confusion.
Leon. Come, say your prayers.
SCENE II.]
PERICLES, PRINCE OF TYRE.
101?
Mar. What mean you?
Leon. If you require a little space for prayer,
I grant it : pray ; but be not tedious,
For the gods are quick of ear, and I am sworn
To do my work with haste.
Mar. Why will you kill me?
Leon. To satisfy my lady.
Mar. Why would she have me kill'd?
Now, as I can remember, by my troth,
I never did her hurt in all my life :
I never spake bad word, nor did ill turn
To any living creature : believe me, la,
I never kill'd a mouse, nor hurt a fly :
I trod upon a worm against my will,
But I wept for it. How have I offended,
Wherein my death might yield her profit,
Or my life imply her danger?
Leon. My commission
Is not to reason of the deed, but do it. [hope.
Mar. You will not do 't for all the world, I
You are well-favour'd, and your looks foreshow
You have a gentle heart. I saw you lately
When you caught hurt in parting two that
fought :
Good sooth, it show'd well in you : do so now :
Your lady seeks my life; come you between,
And save poor me, the weaker.
Leon. I am sworn,
And will despatch.
Enter Pirates "whilst MARINA is struggling.
1 Pirate. Hold, villain !
[LEONINE runs away.
2 Pirate. A prize ! a prize !
3 Pirate. Half-part, mates, half-part. Come,
let 's have her aboard suddenly.
[Exeunt Pirates with MARINA.
Re-enter LEONINE.
Leon. These roving thieves serve the great
pirate Valdes,
And they have seiz'd Marina. Let her go :
There 's no hope she will return. I '11 swear
she 's dead
And thrown into the sea. But I '11 see further :
Perhaps they will but please themselves upon
her,
Not carry her aboard. If she remain,
Whom they have ravish'd must by me be slain.
[Exit.
SCENE II. MITYLENE. A Room in a Brothel.
Enter Pander, Bawd, and BOULT.
Pand. Boult,
Boult. Sir?
Pand. Search the market narrowly; Mity-
lene is full of gallants. We lost too much
money this mart by being too wenchless.
Bawd. We were never so much out of
creatures. We have but poor three, and they
can do no more than they can do; and they
with continual action are even as good as rotten.
Pand. Therefore let's have fresh ones,
whate'er we pay for them. If there be not
a conscience to be used in every trade we
shall never prosper.
Bawd. Thou sayest true ; 'tis not our bringing
up of poor bastards, as, I think, I have
brought up some eleven,
Boult. Ay, to eleven ; and brought them
down again. But shall I search the market?
Bawd. What else, man? The stuff we have,
a strong wind will blow it to pieces, they are
so pitifully sodden.
Pand. Thou sayest true; they are too un-
wholesome, o' conscience. The poor Tran-
sylvanian is dead, that lay with the little
Boult. Ay, she quickly pooped him; she
made him roast-meat for worms. But I '11 go
search the market. [Exit.
Pand. Three or four thousand chequins were
as pretty a proportion to live quietly, and so
give over.
Bawd. Why to give over, I pray you? is it
a shame to get when we are old?
Pand. O, our credit comes not in like the
commodity ; nor the commodity wages not with
the danger: therefore, if in our youths we
could pick up some pretty estate, 'twere not
amiss to keep our door hatch'd. Besides, the
sore terms we stand upon with the gods will be
strong with us for giving over.
Bawd. Come, other sorts offend as well as we.
Pand. As well as we! ay, and better too;
we offend worse. Neither is our profession any
trade; it's no calling. But here comes Boult.
Re-enter Boult, with MARINA and the Pirates.
Boult. [To MARINA.] Come your ways.
My masters, you say she 's a virgin?
I Pirate. O, sir, we doubt it not.
Boult. Master, I have gone through for this
piece, you see : if you like her, so ; if not, I
have lost my earnest.
Bawd. Boult, has she any qualities?
Boult. She has a good face, speaks well,
and has excellent good clothes: there's no
further necessity of qualities can make her be
refused.
Bawd. What's her price, Boult?
Boult. It cannot be bated one doit of a
thousand pieces.
ioi6
PERICLES, PRINCE OF TYRE.
[ACT iv.
Pand. Well, follow me, my masters; you
shall have your money presently. Wife, take
her in ; instruct her what she has to do, that
she may not be raw in her entertainment.
[Exeunt Pander and Pirates.
Bawd. Boult, take you the marks of her,
the colour of her hair, complexion, height, age,
with warrant of her virginity ; and cry, He that
-will give most shall have her first. Such a
maidenhead were no cheap thing, if men were
as they have been. Get this done as I
command you.
Boult. Performance shall follow. [Exit.
Mar. Alack, that Leonine was so slack, so
slow ! [these pirates,
He should have struck, not spoke; or that
Not enough barbarous, had not o'erboard
thrown me
For to seek my mother !
Bawd. Why lament you, pretty one?
Mar. That I am pretty. [in you.
Bawd. Come, the gods have done their part
Mar. I accuse them not.
Bawd. You are lit into my hands, where
you are like to live.
Mar. The more my fault
To 'scape his hands where I was like to die.
Bawd. Ay, and you shall live in pleasure.
Mar. No.
Bawd. Yes, indeed shall you, and taste
gentlemen of all fashions. You shall fare
well : you shall have the difference of all com-
plexions. What ! do you stop your ears?
Mar. Are you a woman ?
Bawd. What would you have me be, an I
be not a woman ?
Mar. An honest woman, or not a woman.
Bawd. Marry, whip thee, gosling: I think
I shall have something to do with you. Come,
you are a young foolish sapling, and must be
bowed as I would have you.
Mar. The gods defend me !
Bawd. If it please the gods to defend you by
men, then men must comfort you, men must
feed you, men must stir you up. Boult 's
returned.
Re-enter BOULT.
Now, sir, hast thou cried her through the
market ?
Boult. I have cried her almost to the number
of her hairs ; I have drawn her picture with
my voice.
Bawd. And I pr'ythee tell me, how dost
thou find the inclination of the people, especi-
ally of the younger sort ?
Boult. Faith, they listened to me as they
would have hearkened to their father's testa-
ment. There was a Spaniard's mouth so
watered that he went to bed to her very
description.
Bawd. We shall have him here to-morrow
with his best ruff on.
Boult. To-night, to-night. But, mistress, do
you know the French knight that cowers i' the
hams?
Bawd. Who ? Monsieur Veroles ?
Boult. Ay : he offered to cut a caper at the
proclamation ; but he made a groan at it, and
swore he would see her to-morrow.
Bawd. Well, well ; as for him, he brought
his disease hither : here he does but repair it.
I know he will come in our shadow to scatter
his crowns in the sun.
Boult. Well, if we had of every nation a
traveller, we should lodge them with this
sign.
Bawd. [To MAR.] Pray you, come hither
awhile. You have fortunes coming upon you.
Mark me : you must seem to do that fearfully
which you commit willingly ; to despise profit
where you have most gain. To weep that you
live as you do makes pity in your lovers : sel-
dom but that pity begets you a good opinion,
and that opinion a mere profit.
Mar. I understand you not.
Boult. O, take her home, mistress, take her
home : these blushes of hers must be quenched
with some present practice.
Bawd. Thou sayest true, i' faith, so they
must ; for your bride goes to that with shame
which is her way to go with warrant.
Boult. Faith, some do, and some do not.
But, mistress, if I have bargained for the
joint,
Bawd. Thou mayst cut a morsel off the spit.
Boult. I may so.
Bawd. Who should deny it ? Come, young
one, I like the manner of your garments well.
Boult. Ay, by my faith, they shall not be
changed yet.
Bawd. Boult, spend thou that in the town :
report what a sojourner we have ; you'll lose
nothing by custom. When nature framed this
piece she meant thee a good turn ; therefore
say what a paragon she is, and thou hast the
harvest out of thine own report.
Boult. I warrant you, mistress, thunder shall
not so awake the beds of eels as my giving out
her beauty stir up the lewdly inclined. I'll
bring home some to-night.
Bawd. Come your ways ; follow me.
Mar. If fires be hot, knives sharp, or waters
deep,
SCENE III.]
PERICLES, PRINCE OF TYRE.
1017
Untied I still my virgin knot will keep.
Diana, aid my purpose !
Bawd. What have we to do with Diana?
Pray you, will you go with us ? [Exeunt.
SCENE III. THARSUS. A Room in CLEON'S
House.
Enter CLEON and DIONYZA.
Dion. Why, are you foolish ? Can it be un-
done?
Cle. O Dionyza, such a piece of slaughter
The sun and moon ne'er look'd upon !
Dion. I think
You '11 turn a child again. [world,
Cle. Were I chief lord of all the spacious
I 'd give it to undo the deed. O lady,
Much less in blood than virtue, yet a princess
To equal any single crown o' the earth
I' the justice of compare ! O villain Leonine !
Whom thou hast poison'd too : [ness
If thou hadst drunk to him, 't had been a kind-
Becoming well thy fact : what canst thou say
When noble Pericles shall demand his child ?
Dion. That she is dead. Nurses are not the
fates,
To foster it, nor ever to preserve. [it?
She died at night ; I '11 say so. Who can cross
Unless you play the pious innocent,
And for an honest attribute cry out,
She died by foul play.
Cle. O, go to. Well, well.
Of all the faults beneath the heavens the gods
Do like this worst.
Dion. Be one of those that think
The petty wrens of Tharsus will fly hence,
And open this to Pericles. I do shame
To think of what a noble strain you are,
And of how coward a spirit.
Cle. To such proceeding
Who ever but his approbation added,
Though not his pre-consent, he did not flow
From honourable sources.
Dion. Be it so, then :
Yet none does know, but you, how she came
dead,
Nor none can know, Leonine being gone.
She did distain my child, and stood between
Her and her fortunes : none would look on her,
But cast their gazes on Marina's face ;
Whilst ours was blurted at, arid held a malkin,
Not worth the time of day. It pierc'd me
thorough ;
And though you call my course unnatural,
You not your child well loving, yet I find
It greets me as an enterprise of kindness
Perform'd to your sole daughter.
Cle. Heavens forgive it !
Dion. And as for Pericles, [hearse,
What should he say? We wept after her
And yet we mourn : her monument
Is almost finish'd, and her epitaphs
In glittering golden characters express
A general praise to her, and care in us
At whose expense 'tis done.
Cle. Thou art like the harpy
Which, to betray, dost, with thine angel's face,
Seize with thine eagle's talons.
Dion. You are like one that superstitiously
Doth swear to the gods that winter kills the
flies:
But yet I know you '11 do as I advise.
[Exeunt.
Enter GOWER, before the Monument of
MARINA at ThSrsus.
Cow. Thus time we waste, and longest
leagues make short ;
Sail seas in cockles, have an wish but for } t ;
Making, to take your imagination,
From bourn to bourn, region to region.
By you being pardon'd, we commit no crime
To use one language in each several clime,
Where our scenes seem to live. I do beseech
you [you
To learn of me, who stand i' the gaps to teach
The stages of our story. Pericles
Is now again thwarting the wayward seas,
Attended on by many a lord and knight,
To see his daughter, all his life's delight.
Old Escanes, whom Helicanus late
Advanc'd in time to great and high estate,
Is left to govern. Bear you it in mind,
Old Helicanus goes along behind. [brought
Well-sailing ships and bounteous winds have
This king to Tharsus, think his pilot thought;
So with his steerage shall your thoughts grow
on,
To fetch his daughter home, who first is gone.
Like motes and shadows see them move awhile ;
Your ears unto your eyes I '11 reconcile.
Dumb show.
Enter, at one side, PERICLES with his Train ;
CLEON and DIONYZA at the other. CLEON
shows PERICLES the Tomb of MARINA,
whereat PERICLES makes lamentation, puts
on sackcloth, and in a mighty passion departs.
Then exeunt CLEON and DIONYZA.
See how belief may suffer by foul show !
This borrow'd passion stands for true old woe ;
And Pericles, in sorrow all devour'd,
With sighs shot through and biggest tears o'er-
showerM,
IOI&
PERICLES, PRINCE OF TYRE.
[ACT iv.
Leaves Tharsus, and again embarks. He
swears
Never to wash his face nor cut his hairs ;
He puts on sackcloth, and to sea. He bears
A tempest which his mortal vessel tears,
And yet he rides it out. Now please you wit
The epitaph is for Marina writ
By wicked Dionyza.
[Reads the inscription on MARINA'S
Monument.
The fairest, sweet'st, and best lies here,
Who wither'd in her spring of year.
She was of Tyrus the king's daughter,
On whom foul death hath made this slaughter ;
Marina was she call'd ; and at her birth,
Thetis, being proud, swallow'dsome part o' the earth :
Therefore the earth, fearing to be o'erflow'd,
Hath Thetis' birth-child on the heavens bestow'd :
Wherefore she does, and swears she '11 never stint,
Make raging battery upon shores of flint.
No visard does become black villany
So well as soft and tender flattery.
Let Pericles believe his daughter 's dead,
And bear his courses to be ordered
By Lady Fortune ; while our scene must play
His daughter's woe and heavy well-a-day
In her unholy service. Patience, then,
And think you now are all in Mitylen.
[Exit.
SCENE IV. MITYLENE. A Street before the
Brothel.
Enter, from the Brothel, two Gentlemen.
1 Gent. Did you ever hear the like ?
2 Gent. No, nor never shall do in such a
place as this, she being once gone.
1 Gent. But to have divinity preached there !
did you ever dream of such a thing ?
2 Gent. No, no. Come, I am for no more
bawdy-houses : shall 's go hear the vestals
sing?
i Gent. I Ml do anything now that is virtu-
ous ; but I am out of the road of rutting for
ever. [Exeunt.
SCENE V. MITYLENE. A Room in the
Brothel.
Enter Pander, Bawd, and BOULT.
Pand. Well, I had rather than twice the
worth of her she had ne'er come here.
Bawd. Fie, fie upon her ! she is able to
freeze the god Priapus, and undo a whole
generation. We must either get her ravished
or be rid of her. When she should do for
clients her fitment, and do me the kindness of
our profession, she has me her quirks, her
reasons, her master-reasons, her prayers, her
knees ; that she would make a puritan of the
devil, if he should cheapen a kiss of her.
Boult. Faith, I must ravish her, or she'll
disfurnish us of all our cavaliers, and make all
our swearers priests. [for me !
Pand. Now, the pox upon her green-sickness
Bawd. Faith there 's no way to be rid on 't
but by the way to the pox. Here comes the
Lord Lysimachus disguised.
Boult. We should have both lord and lown
if the peevish baggage would but give way to
customers.
Enter LYSIMACHUS.
Lys. How now ! How a dozen of virgini-
ties?
Bawd. Now, the gods to-bless your honour !
Boult. I am glad to see your honour in good
health.
Lys. You may so ; 'tis the better for you that
your resorters stand upon sound legs. How
now, wholesome iniquity? Have you that a
man may deal withal, and defy the surgeon ?
Bawd. We have here one, sir, if she would
but there never came her like in Mitylene.
Lys. If she 'd do the deed of darkness, thou
wouldst say. [well enough.
Bawd. Your honour knows what 'tis to say
Lys. Well, call forth, call forth.
Boult. For flesh and blood, sir, white and
red, you shall see a rose ; and she were a rose
indeed, if she had but,
Lys. What, pr'ythee?
Boult. O, sir, I can be modest.
Lys. That dignifies the renown of a bawd no
less than it gives a good report to a number to
be chaste. [Exit BOULT.
Bawd. Here comes that which grows to the
stalk, never plucked yet, I can assure you.
Re-enter BOULT with MARINA.
Is she not a fair creature ?
Lys. Faith, she would serve after a long
voyage at sea. Well, there 's for you : leave
us.
Bawd. I beseech your honour, give me leave:
a word, and I '11 have done presently.
Lys. I beseech you, do.
Bawd. First, I would have you note this is
an honourable man.
[ To MAR. , whom she takes aside.
Mar. I desire to find him so, that I may
worthily note him.
Bawd. Next, he's the governor of this
country, and a man whom I am bound to.
SCENE V.]
PERICLES, PRINCE OF TYRE.
1019
Mar. If he govern the country you are bound
to him indeed; but how honourable he is in
that I know not.
Bawd. Pray you, without any more virginal
fencing, will you use him kindly? He will line
your apron with gold.
Mar. What he will do graciously I will
thankfully receive.
Lys. Ha' you done?
Bawd. My lord, she 's not paced yet : you
must take some pains to work her to your
manage. Come, we will leave his honour and
her together. Go thy ways.
[Exeunt Bawd, Pander, and BOULT.
Lys. Now, pretty one, how long have you
been at this trade?
Mar. What trade, sir?
Lys. What I cannot name but I shall offend.
Mar. I cannot be offended with my trade.
Please you to name it. [sion ?
Lys, How long have you been of this profes-
Mar. E'er since I can remember.
Lys. Did you go to 't so young? Were you
a gamester at five or at seven?
Mar. Earlier too, sir, if now I be one.
Lys. Why, the house you dwell In proclaims
you to be a creature of sale.
Mar. Do you know this house to be a place
of such resort, and will come into't? I hear
say you are of honourable parts, and are the
governor of this place.
Lys. Why, hath your principal made known
unto you who I am ?
Mar. Who is my principal?
Lys. Why, your herb- woman ; she that sets
seeds and roots of shame and iniquity. O, you
have heard something of my power, and so
stand aloof for more serious wooing. But I
protest to thee, pretty one, my authority shall
not see thee, or else look friendly upon thee.
Come, bring me to some private place : come,
come. [now ;
Mar. If you were born to honour, show it
If put upon you, make the judgment good
That thought you worthy of it.
Lys. How 's this? how's this? Some more;
be sage.
Mar. For me,
That am a maid, though most ungentle fortune
Hath plac'd me in this sty,
Where, since I came,
Diseases have been sold dearer than physic,
O that the good gods
Would set me free from this unhallow'd place,
Though they did change me to the meanest bird
That flies i' the purer air !
Lys. I did not think
Thou couldst have spoke so well ; ne'er dream'd
thou couldst.
Had I brought hither a corrupted mind,
Thy speech had alter'd it. Hold, here 's gold
for thee :
Perse ver in that clear way thou goest,
And the gods strengthen thee !
Mar. The good gods preserve you !
Lys. For me, be you thoughten
That I came with no ill intent ; for to me
The very doors and windows savour vilely.
Fare thee well. Thou art a piece of virtue, and
I doubt not but thy training hath been noble.
Hold, here's more gold for thee.
A curse upon him, die he like a thief,
That robs thee of thy goodness ! If thou dost
hear from me
It shall be for thy good.
Re-enter BOULT as LYSIMACHUS is putting up
his purse.
Boult. I beseech your honour, one piece for
me. [house,
Lys. Avaunt, thou damned doorkeeper ! Your
But for this virgin that doth prop it,
Would sink and overwhelm you. Away !
[Exit.
Boult. How 's this ? We must take another
course with you. If your peevish chastity,
which is not worth a breakfast in the cheapest
country under the cope, shall undo a whole
household, let me be gelded like a spaniel.
Come your ways.
Mar. Whither would you have me?
Boult. I must have your maidenhead taken
off, or the common hangman shall execute it.
Come your ways. We '11 have no more gentle-
men driven away. Come your ways, I say.
Re-enter Bawd.
Bawd. How now ! What 's the matter?
Boult. Worse and worse, mistress ; she has
here spoken holy words to the Lord Lysima-
chus.
Bawd. O abominable !
Boult. She makes our profession as it were
to stink afore the face of the gods.
Bawd. Marry, hang her up for ever !
Boult. The nobleman would have dealt with
her like a nobleman, and she sent him away
as cold as a snowball ; saying his prayers too.
Bawd. Boult, take her away; use her at thy
pleasure : crack the glass of her virginity, and
make the rest malleable.
Boult. An if she were a thornier piece of
ground than she is, she shall be ploughed.
Afar. Hark, hark, you gods !
IO2O
PERICLES, PRINCE OF TYRE.
[ACT v.
Bawd. She conjures : away with her ! Would
she had never come within my doors ! Marry,
hang you ! She 's born to undo us. Will you
not go the way of womenkind? Marry, come
up, my dish of chastity with rosemary and
bays ! [Exit.
Boult. Come, mistress ; come your ways with
me.
Mar. Whither wilt thou have me? [so dear.
Boult. To take from you the jewel you hold
Mar. Pr'ythee, tell me one thing first.
Boult. Come now, your one thing. [be?
Mar. What canst thou wish thine enemy to
Boult. Why, I could wish him to be my
master, or, rather, my mistress.
Mar. Neither of these are Sb bad as thou art,
Since they do better thee in their command.
Thou hold'st a place for which the pained'st fiend
Of hell would not in reputation change :
Thou 'rt the damn'd doorkeeper to every
Coistrel that comes inquiring for his tib;
To the choleric fisting of every rogue
Thy ear is liable ; thy very food is such
As hath been belch'd on by infected lungs.
Boult. What would you have me do? go to
the wars, would you? where a man may serve
seven years for the loss of a leg, and have not
money enough in the end to buy him a wooden
one? [Empty
Mar. Do anything but this thou doest.
Old receptacles, or common sewers, of filth ;
Serve by indenture to the common hangman :
Any of these ways are yet better than this ;
For what thou professest, a baboon, could he
speak,
Would own a name too dear. O that the gods
Would safely deliver me from this place !
Here, here 's gold for thee.
If that thy master would gain by me,
Proclaim that I can sing, weave, sew, and dance,
With other virtues which I '11 keep from boast ;
And I will undertake all these to teach.
I doubt not but this populous city will
Yield many scholars. [of?
Boult. But can you teach all this you speak
Mar. Prove that I cannot, take me home
again,
And prostitute me to the basest groom
That doth frequent your house.
Boult. Well, I will see what I can do for
thee : if I can place thee, I will.
Mar. But amongst honest women?
Boult. Faith, my acquaintance lies little
amongst them. But since my master and mis-
tress have bought you, there 's no going but by
their consent: therefore I will make them ac-
quainted with your purpose, and I doubt not
but I shall find them tractable enough. Come,
I '11 do for thee what I can ; come your ways.
[Exeunt*
ACT V.
Enter GOWER.
Gow. Marina thus the brothel scapes, and
chances
Into an honest house, our story says.
She sings like one immortal, and she dances
As goddess-like to her admired lays ;
Deep clerks she dumbs; and with her needle
composes [berry,
Nature's own shape, of bud, bird, branch, or
That even her art sisters the natural roses;
Her inkle, silk, twin with the rubied cherry :
That pupils lacks she none of noble race,
Who pour their bounty on her ; and her gain
She gives the cursed bawd. Here we her place ;
And to her father turn our thoughts again,
Where we left him, on the sea. We there him
lost;
Whence, driven before the winds, he is arriv'd
Here where his daughter dwells; and on this
coast
Suppose him now at anchor. The city striv'd
God Neptune's annual feast to keep: from
whence
Lysimachus our Tyrian ship espies,
His banners sable, trimm'd with rich expense ;
And to him in his barge with fervour hies.
In your supposing once more put your sight
Of heavy Pericles , think this his bark :
Where what is done in action, more, if might,
Shall be discover'd ; please you, sit, and hark.
[Exit.
SCENE L On board PERICLES' ship, off Mity-
lene. A Pavilion on deck with a curtain
before it; PERICLES within it, reclining on
a couch. A barge lying beside the Tyrian
vessel.
Enter two Sailors, one belonging to the Tyrian
-vessel, the other to the barge ; to them HELI-
Tyr. Sail.. Where is Lord Helicanus ? he
can resolve you.
[To the Sailor of Mitylene.
O, here he is.
Sir, there 's a barge put off from Mitylene,
And in it is Lysimachus the governor, [will?
Who craves to come aboard. What is your
Hel. That he have his. Call up some
gentlemen.
Tyr. Sail. Ho, gentlemen ! my lord calls.
SCENE I.]
PERICLES, PRINCE OF TYRE.
102 1
Enter two or three Gentlemen.
I Gent. Doth your lordship call?
Hel. Gentlemen, [pray,
There is some of worth would come aboard ; I
Greet them fairly.
[The Gentlemen and the two Sailors
descend, and go on board the barge.
Enter, from thence, LYSIMACHUS and Lords,
with the Gentlemen and the two Sailors.
Tyr. Sail. Sir,
This is the man that can, in aught you would,
Resolve you.
Lys. Hail, reverend sir ! The gods preserve
you!
Hel. And you, sir, to outlive the age I am,
And die as I would do.
Lys. You wish me well.
Being on shore, honouring ofNeptune's triumphs,
Seeing this goodly vessel ride before us,
I made to it, to know of whence you are.
Hel. First, what is your place?
Lys. I am the governor
Of this place you lie before.
Hel. Sir,
Our vessel is of Tyre, in it the king ; [spoken
A man who for this three months hath not
To any one, nor taken sustenance,
But to prorogue his grief. [ture?
Lys. Upon what ground is his distempera-
Hel. 'Twould be too tedious to repeat ;
But the main grief springs from the loss
Of a beloved daughter and a wife.
Lys. May we not see him?
Hel. You may;
But bootless is your sight, he will not speak
To any.
Lys. Yet let me obtain my wish.
Hel. Behold him [PERICLES discovered^.
This was a goodly person
Till the disaster that one mortal night
Drove him to this.
Lys. Sir king, all hail ! the gods preserve
you !
Hail, royal sir!
Hel. It is in vain ; he will not speak to you.
i Lord. Sir, we have a maid in Mitylene, I
durst wager,
Would win some words of him.
Lys. 'Tis well bethought.
She, questionless, with her sweet harmony
And other choice attractions, would allure,
And make a battery through his deafen'd parts,
Which now are midway stopp'd :
She is all happy as the fairest of all,
And, with her fellow maids, is now upon
The leafy shelter that abuts against
The island's side.
[He whispers first Lord, who goes off
in the barge of LYSIMACHUS.
Hel. Sure, all 's effectless ; yet nothing we '11
omit [kindness
That bears recovery's name. But, since your
We have stretch'd thus far, let us beseech you
That for our gold we may provision have,
Wherein we are not destitute for want,
But weary for the staleness.
Lys. O, sir, a courtesy
Which if we should deny, me most just gods
For every graff would send a caterpillar,
And so afflict our province. Yet once more
Let me entreat to know at large the cause
Of your king's sorrow.
Hel. Sit, sir, I will recount it to you :
But, see, I am prevented.
Re-enter, from the barge, First Lord, with
MARINA and a young Lady.
Lys. O, here is
The lady that I sent for. Welcome, fair one !
Is't not a goodly presence?
Hel. She 's a gallant lady.
Lys. She's such a one that, were I well
assur'd
Came of gentle kind and noble stock, [wed.
I 'd wish no better choice, and think me rarely 1
Fair one, all goodness that consists in bounty
Expect even here, where is a kingly patient :
If that thy prosperous and artificial feat
Can draw him but to answer thee in aught,
Thy sacred physic shall receive such pay
As thy desires can wish.
Mar. Sir, I will use
My utmost skill in his recovery,
Provided
That none but I and my companion maid
Be suffer'd to come near him.
Lys. Come, let us leave her;
And the gods make her prosperous i
[MARINA sings.
Lys. Mark'd he your music?
Mar. No, nor look'd on us.
Lys. See, she will speak to him.
Mar. Hail, sir ! my lord, lend ear.
Per. Hum, ha !
Mar. I am a maid,
My lord, that ne'er before invited eyes,
But have been gaz'd on like a comet : she speaks,
My lord, that, may be, hath endur'd a grief
Might equal yours, if both were justly weigh'd.
Though wayward fortune did malign my state,
My derivation was from ancestors
Who stood equivalent with mighty kings:
IO22
PERICLES, PRINCE OF TYRE.
[ACT v.
But time hath rooted out my parentage.
And to the world and awkward casualties
Bound me in servitude. [Aside. ] I will desist ;
But there is something glows upon my cheek,
And whispers in mine ear, Go not till he speak.
Fer. My fortunes parentage good parent-
age [you ?
To equal mine ! was it not thus ? what say
Alar. I said, my lord, if you did know my
parentage
You would not do me violence.
Per. j I do think so.
I pray you, turn your yes upon me. [woman?
You are like something that What country-
Here of these shores ?
Mar. No, nor of any shores :
Yet I was mortally brought forth, and am
No other than I appear. [weeping.
Per. I am great with woe, and shall deliver
My dearest wife was like this maid, and such
a one [square brows ;
My daughter might have been : my queen's
Her stature to an inch ; as wand-like straight ;
As silver voic'd ; her eyes as jewel-like,
And cas'd as richly ; in pace another Juno ;
Who starves the ears she feeds, and makes
them hungry [you live?
The more she gives them speech. Where do
Mar. Where I am but a stranger : from the
deck
You may discern the place.
Per. Where were you bred?
And how achiev'd you these endowments, which
You make more rich to owe? [seem
Mar. If I should tell my history, it would
Like lies, disdain'd in the reporting.
Per. Pr'ythee, speak:
Falseness cannot come from thee; forthou look'st
Modest as Justice, and thou seem'st a palace
For the crown'd Truth to dwell in: I will
believe thee,
And make my senses credit thy relation
To points that seem impossible ; for thou look'st
Like one I lov'd indeed. What were thy friends ?
Didst thou not say, when I did push thee
back,
Which was when I perceiv'd thee, that thou
cam'st
From good descending?
Mar. So indeed I did.
Per. Report thy parentage. I think thou
said'st
Thou hadst been toss'd from wrong to injury,
And that thou thought'st thy griefs might
equal mine,
If both were open'd.
Some such thing
I said, and said no more but what my thoughts
Did warrant me was likely.
Per. Tell thy story ;
If thine consider'd prove the thousandth part
Of my endurance, thou art a man, and I
Have suffer'd like a girl : yet thou dost look
Like Patience gazing on kings' graves, and
smiling
Extremity out of act. What were thy friends?
How lost thou them? Thy name, my most
kind virgin?
Recount, I do beseech thee : come, sit by me.
Mar. My name is Marina.
Per. O, I am mock'd,
And thou by some incensed god sent hither
To make the world to laugh at me.
Mar. Patience, good sir,
Or here I '11 cease.
Per. Nay, I '11 be patient.
Thou little know'st how thou dost startle me,
To call thyself Marina.
Afar. The name
Was given me by one that had some power,
My father, and a king.
Per. How ! a king's daughter?
And call'd Marina?
Mar. You said you would believe me ;
But, not to be a troubler of your peace,
I will end here.
Per. But are you flesh and blood?
Have you a working pulse? and are no fairy?
Motion ! Well ; speak on. Where were you
born?
And wherefore call'd Marina?
Mar. Call'd Marina
For I was born at sea.
Per. At sea ! what mother ?
Mar. My mother was the daughter of a king ;
Who died the minute I was born,
As my good nurse Lychorida hath oft
Deliver'd weeping.
Per. O, stop there a little !
[Aside.'] This is the rarest dream that e'er dull
sleep
Did mock sad fools withal : this cannot be :
My daughter's buried. Well: where were
you bred?
I '11 hear you more, to the bottom of your story,
And never interrupt you.
Mar. You '11 scarce believe me : 'twere best I
did give o'er.
Per. I will believe you by the syllable
Of what you shall deliver. Yet give me leave,
How came you in these parts? where were you
bred ? [leave me ;
Mar. The king my father did in Tharsus
Till cruel Cleon, with his wicked wife,
SCENE I.]
PERICLES, PRINCE OF TYRE.
1023
Did seek to murder me : and having woo'd
A villain to attempt it, who having drawn todo 't,
A crew of pirates came and rescu'd me
Brought me to Mitylene. But, good sir,
Whither will you have me? Why do you weep?
It may be
You think me an imposter : no, good faith ;
I am the daughter to King Pericles,
If good King Pericles be.
Per. Ho, Helicanus !
Hel. Calls my lord?
Per. Thou art a grave and noble counsellor,
Most wise in general : tell me, if thou canst,
What this maid is, or what is like to be,
That thus hath made me weep?
Hel. I know not; but
Here is the regent, sir, of Mitylene
Speaks nobly of her.
Lys. She would never tell
Her parentage ; being demanded that,
She would sit still and weep.
Per. O Helicanus, strike me, honour'd sir ;
Give me a gash, put me to present pain;
Lest this great sea of joys rushing upon me
O'erbear the shores of my mortality, [hither,
And drown me with their sweetness. O, come
Thou that begett'st him that did thee beget ;
Thou that was born at sea, buried at Tharsus,
And found at sea again ! O Helicanus,
Down on thy knees, thank the holy gods as loud
As thunder threatens us: this is Marina.
What was thy mother's name? tell me but that,
For truth can never be confirm'd enough,
Though doubts did ever sleep.
Mar. First, sir, I pray,
What is your title?
Per. I am Pericles of Tyre : but tell me now
My drown'd queen's name, as in the rest you
said [of kingdoms,
Thou 'st been godlike perfect, thou 'rt the heir
And another life to Pericles thy father.
Mar. Is it no more to be your daughter than
To say my mother's name was Thaisa?
Thaisa was my mother, who did end
The minute I began. [my child.
Per. Now, blessing on thee! rise; thou art
Give me fresh garments. Mine own Heli-
canus,
She is not dead at Tharsus, as she should have
been
By savage Cleon : she shall tell thee all ;
When thou shalt kneel, and justify in knowledge
She is thy very princess. Who is this?
Hel. Sir, 'tis the governor of Mitylene,
Who, hearing of your melancholy state,
Did come to see you.
Per. I embrace you.
Give me my robes. I am wild in my behold-
ing. [music?
heavens bless my girl! But, hark, what
Tell Helicanus, my Marina, tell him
O'er, point by point, for yet he seems to doubt,
How sure you are my daughter. But, what
music?
Hel. My lord, I hear none.
Per. None!
The music of the spheres ! List, my Marina.
Lys. It is not good to cross him ; give him way.
Per. Rarest sounds ! Do ye not hear?
Lys. My lord, I hear. [Music.
Per. Most heavenly music !
It nips me into listening, and thick slumber
Hangs upon mine eyes : let me rest. [Sleeps.
Lys. A pillow for his head :
So, leave himall. Well, my companion -friends,
If this but answer to my just belief,
1 '11 well remember you.
[Exeunt all but PERICLES.
DIANA appears to PERICLES as in a vision.
Dia. My temple stands in Ephesus : hie thee
thither,
And do upon mine altar sacrifice. [gether,
There, when my maiden priests are met to-
Before the people all,
Reveal how thou at sea didst lose thy wife :
To mourn thy crosses, with thy daughter's, call,
And give them repetition to the life.
Or perform my bidding or thou liv'st in woe;
Do it, and happy ; by my silver bow !
Awake and tell thy dream. [Disappears.
Per. Celestial Dian, goddess argentine,
I will obey thee. Helicanus !
Re-enter HELICANUS, LYSIMACHUS,
MARINA, &>c.
Hel. Sir? [strike
Per. My purpose was for Tharsus, there to
The inhospitable Cleon ; but I am
For other service first : toward Ephesus
Turn our blown sails ; eftsoons I '11 tell thee
why. [To HELICANUS.
Shall we refresh us, sir, upon your shore,
[To LYSIMACHUS.
And give you gold for such provision
As our intents will need?
Lys. Sir,
With all my heart ; and when you come ashore
I have another suit.
Per. You shall prevail,
Were it to woo my daughter ; for it seems
You have been noble towards her.
Lys. Sir, lend me your arm.
Per. Come, my Marina, [Exeunt.
IO24
PERICLES, PRINCE OF TYRE.
[ACT v.
Enter GOWER, before the Temple of DIANA at
Ephesus.
Cow. Now our sands are almost run ;
More a little, and then done.
This, my last boon, give me,
For such kindness must relieve me,
That you aptly will suppose
What pageantry, what feats, what shows,
What minstrelsy, and pretty din,
The regent made in Mitylin,
To greet the king. So he thriv'd,
That he is promis'd to be wiv'd
To fair Marina ; but in no wise
Till he had done his sacrifice,
As Dian bade : whereto being bound
The interim, pray you, all confound.
In feather'd briefness sails are fill'd,
And wishes fall out as they're will'd.
At Ephesus the temple see,
Our king, and all his company.
That he can hither come so soon,
Is by your fancy's thankful boon. [Exit.
SCENE \\.-The Temple 0/DiANA at Ephesus;
THAISA standing near the altar as high
priestess ; a number of Virgins on each side ;
CERIMON and other Inhabitants of Ephesus
attending.
Enter PERICLES, with his Train; LYSIMA-
CHUS, HELICANUS, MARINA, and a Lady.
Per. Hail, Dian ! to perform thy just com-
mand,
I here confess myself the King of Tyre ;
Who, frighted from my country, did wed
At Pentapolis the fair Thaisa.
At sea in childbed died she, but brought forth
A maid-child, call'd Marina ; who, O goddess,
Wears yet thy silver livery. She at Tharsus
Was nurs'd with Cleon ; who at fourteen years
He sought to murder : but her better stars
Brought her to Mitylene ; 'gainst whose shore
Riding, her fortunes brought the maid aboard
us, [she
Where, by her own most clear remembrance,
Made known herself my daughter.
Thai. Voice and favour !
You are, you are O royal Pericles ! [Faints.
Per. What means the woman? she dies!
help, gentlemen !
Cer. Noble sir,
If you have told Diana's altar true,
This is your wife.
Per. Reverend appearer, no ;
I threw her o'erboard with these very arms.
Cer. Upon this coast, I warrant you.
Per. 'Tis most certain.
Cer. Look to the lady; O, she's but o'ei-
joy'd.
Early in blustering morn this lady was
Thrown upon this shore. I op'd the coffin.
Found there rich jewels; recover'd her, and
plac'd her
Here in Diana's temple.
Per. May we see them ?
Cer. Great sir, they shall be brought you to
my house,
Whither I invite you. Look, Thaisa is
Recover'd.
Thai. O, let me look !
If he be none of mine, my sanctity
Will to my sense bend no licentious ear,
But curb it, spite of seeing. O, my lord,
Are you not Pericles? Like him you speak,
Like him you are : did you not name a tempest,
A birth and death?
Per. The voice of dead Thaisa !
Thai. That Thaisa am I, supposed dead
And drown'd.
Per. Immortal Dian !
Thai. Now I know you better.
When we with tears parted Pentapolis,
The king my father gave you such a ring.
[Shows a ring.
Per. This, this : no more, you gods ! your
present kindness [well,
Makes my past miseries sport : you shall do
That on the touching of her lips I may
Melt, and no more be seen. O, come, be buried
A second time within these arms.
Mar. My heart
Leaps to be gone into my mother's bosom.
\Kneels to THAISA.
Per. Look, who kneels here ! Flesh of thy
flesh, Thaisa ;
Thy burden at the sea, and call'd Marina
For she was yielded there.
Thai. Bless'd, and mine own !
Hel. Hail, madam, and my queen !
Thai. I know you not.
Per. You have heard me say, when I did fly
from Tyre,
I left behind an ancient substitute :
Can you remember what I call'd the man ?
I have nam'd him oft.
Thai. 'Twas Helicanus then.
Per. Still confirmation :
Embrace him, dear Thaisa ; this is he.
Now do I long to hear how you were found ;
How possibly preserv'd ; and who to thank,
Besides the gods, for this great miracle.
Thai. Lord Cerimon, my lord ; this man,
throueh whom
SCENE II.]
PERICLES, PRINCE OF TYRE.
1025
The gods have shown their power ; 'tis he
That can from first to last resolve you.
Per. Reverend sir,
The gods can have no mortal officer
More like a god than you. Will you deliver
How this dead queen re-lives ?
Cer. I will, my lord.
Beseech you, first go with me to my house,
Where shall be shown you all was found with her;
How she came placed here in the temple ;
No needful thing omitted. [I
Per. Pure Dian, bless thee for thy vision*.
Will offer night-oblations to thee. Thaisa,
This prince, the fair-betrothed of your daughter,
Shall marry her at Pentapolis. And now,
This ornament
Makes me look dismal will I clip to form ;
And what this fourteen years no razor touch'd,
To grace thy marriage-day I '11 beautify.
Thai. Lord Cerimon hath letters of good
credit, sir,
My father 's dead.
Per. Heavens ma ke a star of him ! Yet there,
my queen,
We '11 celebrate their nuptials, and ourselves
Will in that kingdom spend our following days :
Our son and daughter shall in Tyrus reign.
Lord Cerimon, we do our longing stay
To hear the rest untold : sir, lead 's the way.
[Exeunt.
Enter GOWER.
Gow. In Antiochus and his daughter you
have heard
Of monstrous lust the due and just reward :
In Pericles, his queen and daughter, seen,
Although assail'd with fortune fierce and keen,
Virtue preserv'd from fell destruction's blast,
Led on by heaven, and crown'd with joy at last :
In Helicanus may you well descry
A figure of truth, of faith, of loyalty :
In reverend Cerimon there well appears
The worth that learned charity aye wears :
For wicked Cleon and his wife, when fame
Had spread their cursed deed, and honour'd name
Of Pericles, to rage the city turn,
That him and his they in his palace burn ;
The gods for murder seemed so content
To punish them, although not done, but meant.
So, on your patience evermore attending,
New joy wait on you ! Here our play has end-
ing. {Exit.
2 K
KT XT C* T T7 A "D
1 IN LJ JL, H, A K.
PERSONS REPRESENTED.
LEAR, King of Britain.
KING OF FRANCE.
DUKE OF BURGUNDY.
DUKE OF CORNWALL.
DUKE OF ALBANY.
EARL OF KENT.
EARL OF GLOSTER.
EDGAR, Son to GLOSTER.
EDMUND, Bastaid Son to GLOSTER.
CURAN, a Courtier.
Old Man, Tenant to GLOSTER.
Physician.
Fool.
no fat
OSWALD, Steward to GONERIL.
An Officer employed by EDMUND.
Gentleman attendant on CORDELIA.
A Herald.
Servants to CORNWALL.
,tsf\
,E2LBrfT .osrfJ oJ oioiisldo-lrfgin ttjfto IliW
GONERIL, )
REGAN, > Daughters to LEAR.
CORDELIA, J
Knights attending on the KING, Officers, Mes
sengers, Soldiers, and Attendants.
SCENE, BRITAIN.
ACT I.
SCENE I. A Room of State in KING LEAR'S
Palace.
Enter KENT, GLOSTER, and EDMUND.
Kent. I thought the king had more affected
the Duke of Albany than Cornwall.
Glo. It did always seem so to us : but now,
in the division of the kingdom, it appears not
which of the dukes he values most ; for equali-
ties are so weighed that curiosity in neither can
make choice of cither's moiety.
Kent. Is not this your son, my lord ?
Glo. His breeding, sir, hath been at my
charge : I have so often blushed to acknow-
ledge him that now I am brazed to it.
Kent. I cannot conceive you.
Glo. Sir, this young fellow's mother could :
whereupon she grew round- wombed, and had
indeed, sir, a son for her cradle ere she had a
husband for her bed. Do you smell a fault ?
Kent. I cannot wish the fault undone, the
issue of it being so proper.
Glo. But I have a son, sir, by order of law,
some year elder than this, who yet is no dearer
in my account : though this knave came some-
thing saucily into the world before he was sent
for, yet was his mother fair ; there was good
sport at his making, and the whoreson must be
acknowledged. Do you know this noble gentle-
man, Edmund?
Edm. No, my lord.
Glo. My Lord of Kent : remember him here-
after as my honourable friend.
- '-' "' jiia ,:
Edm. My services to your lordship.
Kent. I must love you, and sue to know you
better.
Edm. Sir, I shall study deserving.
Glo. He hath been out nine years, and away
he shall again. The king is coming.
\Sennet within.
Enter LEAR, CORNWALL, ALBANY, GONERIL,
REGAN, CORDELIA, and Attendants.
Lear. Attend the Lords of France and Bur-
gundy,
Gloster.
Glo. I shall, my liege.
[Exeunt GLO. and EDM.
Lear. Meantime we shall express our darker
purpose. [divided
Give me the map there. Know that we have
In three our kingdom : and 'tis our fast intent
To shake all cares and business from our age ;
Conferring them on younger strengths, while we
Unburden'd crawl toward death. Our son of
Cornwall,
And you, our no less loving son of Albany,
We have this hour a constant will to publish
Our daughters' several dowers, that future strife
May be prevented now. The princes, France
and Burgundy,
Great rivals in our youngest daughter's love,
Long in our court have made their amorous
sojourn, [daughters,
And here are to be answerM. Tell me, my
Since now we will divest us both of rule,
Interest of territory, ceres of state,
SCENE I.]
KING LEAR.
1027
Which of you shall we say doth love us most ?
That we our largest bounty may extend
Where nature doth with merit challenge.
Goneril,
Our eldest-born, speak first.
Gon. Sir, I love you more than words can
wield the matter ;
Dearer than eyesight, space, and liberty ;
Beyond what can be valu'd, rich or rare ;
No less than life, with grace, health, beauty,
honour ;
As much as child e'er lov'd, or father found ;
A love that makes breath poor and speech unable;
Beyond all manner of so much I love you.
Cor. [Aside.] What shall Cordelia do? Love,
and be silent. [to this,
Lear. Of all these bounds, even from this line
With shadowy forests and withchampains rich'd,
With plenteous rivers and wide-skirted meads,
We make thee lady : to thine and Albany's issue
Be this perpetual. What says our second
daughter,
Our dearest Regan, wife to Cornwall? Speak.
Reg. I am made of that self metal as my sister,
And prize me at her worth. In my true heart
I find she names my very deed of love ;
Only she comes too short, that I profess
Myself an enemy to all other joys [possesses ;
Which the most precious square of sense
And find I am alone felicitate
In your dear highness' love.
Car. [Aside.] Then poor Cordelia !
And yet not so ; since, I am sure, my love 's
More ponderous than my tongue.
Lear. To thee and thine hereditary ever
Remain this ample third of our fair kingdom ;
No less in space, validity, and pleasure
Than that conferr'd on Goneril. Now, our joy,
Although the last, not least ; to whose young
love
The vines of France and milk of Burgundy
Strive to be interess'd ; what can you say to
draw [Speak.
A third more opulent than your sisters?
Cor. Nothing, my lord.
Lear. Nothing!
Cor. Nothing. [again.
Lear. Nothing will come of nothing: speak
Cor. Unhappy that I am, I cannot heave
My heart into my mouth : I love your majesty
According to my bond ; nor more nor less.
Lear. How, how, Cordelia ! mend your
speech a little,
Lest you may mar your fortunes.
Cor. Good my lord,
You have begot me, bred me, lov'd me: I
Return those duties back as are right fit,
Obey you, love you, and most honour you.
Why have my sisters husbands if they say
They love you all? Haply, when I shall wed,
That lord whose hand must take my plight
shall carry
Half my love with him, half my care and duty:
Sure I shall never marry like my sisters,
To Ifove my father all.
Lear. But goes thy heart with this?
Cor. Ay, good my lord.
Lear. So young and so untender?
Cor. So young, my lord, and true.
Lear. Let it be so, thy truth, then, be thy
dower:
For by the sacred radiance of the sun,
The mysteries of Hecate, and the night;
By all the operation of the orbs,
From whom we do exist and cease to be ;
Here I disdain all my paternal care,
Propinquity, and property of blood,
And as a stranger to my heart and me
Hold thee, from this for ever. The barbarous
Scythian,
Or he that makes his generation messes
To gorge his appetite, shall to my bosom
Be as well neighbour'd, pitied, and reliev'd,
As thou my sometime daughter.
Kent. Good my liege,
Lear. Peace, Kent !
Come not between the dragon and his wrath.
I lov'd her most, and thought to set my rest
On her kind nursery. Hence, and avoid my
sight ! [ To CORDELIA.
So be my grave my peace, as here I give
Her father's heart from her ! Call France ;
who stirs?
Call Burgundy. Cornwall and Albany,
With my two daughters' dowers digest th ithird:
Let pride, which she calls plainness, marry her.
I do invest you jointly with my power,
Pre-eminence, and all the large effects
That troop with majesty. Ourself, by monthly
course,
With reservation of an hundred knights,
By you to be sustain'd, shall our abode
Make with you by due turns. Only we still
retain
The name, and all the additions to a king ;
The sway,
Revenue, execution of the rest,
Beloved sons, be yours : which to confirm,
This coronet part between you.
[Giving 1 the frown.
Kent. Royal Lear,
Whom I have ever honour'd as my king,
Lov'd as my father, as my master follow'd,
As my greit patron thought on in my prayers.
1028
KING LEAR.
[ACT i.
Lear. The bow is bent and drawn, make
from the shaft.
Kent. Let it fall rather, though the fork invade
The region of my heart : be Kent unmannerly
When Lear is mad. What wouldst thou do,
old man? [speak
Think'st thou that duty shall have dread to
When power to flattery bows? To plainness
honour's bound
When majesty falls to folly. Reserve thy state ;
And in thy best consideration check
This hideous rashness : answer my life my judg-
ment,
Thy youngest daughter does not love thee least ;
Nor are those empty-hearted whose low sound
Reverbs no hollowness.
Lear. Kent, on thy life, no more.
Kent. My life I never held but as a pawn
To wage against thine enemies; nor fear to
lose it,
Thy safety being the motive.
Lear. Out of my sight !
Kent. See better, Lear; and let me still
remain
The true blank of thine eye.
Lear. Now, by Apollo,
Kent. Now, by Apollo, king,
Thou swear'st thy gods in vain.
Lear. O, vassal ! miscreant !
\Laying his hand on his sword.
Alb. and Corn. Dear sir, forbear.
Kent. Do;
Kill thy physician, and the fee bestow
Upon the foul disease. Revoke thy gift;
Or, whilst I can vent clamour from my throat,
I '11 tell thee thou dost evil.
Lear. Hear me, recreant !
On thine allegiance, hear me!
Since thou hast sought to make us break our
vow,
Which we durst never yet, and with strain'd
pride
To come betwixt our sentence and our power,
Which nor our nature nor our place can bear,
Our potency made good, take thy reward.
Five days we do allot thee for provision
To shield thee from disasters of the world ;
And on the sixth to turn thy hated back
Upon our kingdom: if, on the tenth day following,
Thy banish'd trunk be found in our dominions,
The moment is thy death. Away ! by Jupiter,
This shall not be revok'd.
Kent. Fare thee well, king: sith thus thou
wilt appear,
Freedom lives hence, and banishment is here.
The gods to their dear shelter take thee, maid,
\To CORDELIA.
That justly think'st, and hast most rightly said !
And your large speeches may your deeds approve,
jnsn [Ta REGAN aw^GoNERiL.
That good effects may spring from words of
love.
Thus Kent, O princes, bids you all adieu ;
He '11 shape his old course in a country new.
{Exit.
Flourish. Re-enter GLOSTER, with FRANCE,
BURGUNDY, and Attendants.
Glo. Here's France and Burgundy, my
noble lord.
Lear. My lord of Burgundy,
We first address toward you, who with this king
Hath rivall'd for our daughter : what in the least
Will you require in present dower with her,
Or cease your quest of love?
Bur. Most royal majesty,
I crave no more than hath your highness offer'd,
Nor will you tender less.
Lear. Right noble Burgundy,
When she was dear to us we did hold her so ;
But now her price is fall'n. Sir, there she
stands:
If aught within that little seeming substance,
Or all of it, with our displeasure piec'd,
And nothing more, may fitly like your grace,
She 's there, and she is yours.
Bur. I know no answer.
Lear. Will you, with those infirmities she
owes,
Unfriended, new-adopted to our hate, [oath,
Dower'd with our curse, and stranger'd with our
Take her or leave her?
Bur. Pardon me, royal sir ;
Election makes not up on such conditions.
Lear. Then leave her, sir ; for, by the powei
that made me,
I tell you all her wealth. For you, great king,
\To FRANCE.
I would not from your love make such a stray,
To match you where I hate ; therefore beseech
you
To avert your liking a more worthier way
Than on a wretch whom nature is asham'd
Almost to acknowledge hers.
France. This is most strange,
That she, who even but now was your best
object,
The argument of your praise, balm of your age,
Most best, most dearest, should in this trice of
time
Commit a thing so monstrous, to dismantle
So many folds of favour. Sure her offence
Must be of such unnatural degree
That monsters it, or your fore-vouch'd affection
SCENE I.]
KING LEAR.
1029
Fall into taint : which to believe of her
Must be a faith that reason without miracle
Could never plant in me.
Cor. I yet beseech your majesty,
If for I want that glib and oily art [intend,
To speak and purpose not ; since what I well
I '11 do 't before I speak, that you make known
It is no vicious blot, murder, or foulness,
No unchaste action or dishonour'd step,
That hath depriv'd me of your grace and
favour ; [richer,
But even for want of that for which I am
A still-soliciting eye, and such a tongue [it
That I am glad I have not, though not to have
Hath lost me in your liking.
Lear. Better thou
Hadst not been born than not to have pleas'd
me better.
France. Is it but this, a tardiness in nature,
Which often leaves the history unspoke
That it intends to do? My lord of Burgundy,
What say you to the lady? Love 's not love
When it is mingled with regards that stand
Aloof from the entire point. Will you have her?
She is herself a dowry.
Bur. Royal king,
Give but that portion which yourself propos'd,
And here I take Cordelia by the hand,
Duchess of Burgundy.
Lear. Nothing : I have sworn ; I am firm.
Bur. I am sorry, then, you have so lost a father
That you must lose a husband.
Cor. Peace be with Burgundy !
Since that respects of fortune are his love
I shall not be his wife. [being poor ;
France. Fairest Cordelia, that art most rich,
Most choice, forsaken ; and most lov'd, despis'd !
Thee and thy virtues here I seize upon :
Be it lawful, I take up what 's cast away.
Gods, gods ! 'tis strange that from their cold'st
neglect
My love should kindle to inflam'd respect.
Thy dowerless daughter, king, thrown to my
chance,
Is queen of us, of ours, and our fair France :
Not all the dukes of waterish Burgundy
Can buy this unpriz'd precious maid of me.
Bid them farewell, Cordelia, though unkind :
Thou losest here, a better where to find.
Lear. Thou hast her, France : let her be thine;
for we
Have no such daughter, nor shall ever see
That face of hers again. Therefore be gone
Without our grace, our love, our benison.
Come, noble Burgundy.
[Flourish, Exeunt LEAR, BURGUNDY, CORN-
WALL, ALBANY, GLOSTER, and Attendants.
France. Bid farewell to your sisters.
Cor. Ye jewels of our father, with wash'd
eyes
Cordelia leaves you : I know you what you are ;
And, like a sister, am most loth to call
Your faults as they are nam'd. Love well our
father :
To your professed bosoms I commit him :
But yet, alas, stood I within his grace,
I would prefer him to a better place.
So, farewell to you both.
Reg. Prescribe not us our duty.
Gon. Let your study
Be to content your lord, who hath receiv'd you
At fortune's alms. You have obedience scanted,
And well are worth the want that you have
wanted. [hides :
Cor. Time shall unfold what plighted cunning
Who cover faults, at last shame them derides.
Well may you prosper !
France. Come, my fair Cordelia.
\Exeuiit FRANCE and CORDELIA.
Gon. Sister, it is not little I have to say of
what most nearly appertains to us both. I
think our father will hence to-night.
Reg. That 's most certain, and with you ;
next month with us.
Gon. You see how full of changes his age is ;
the observation we have made of it hath not
been little : he always loved our sister most ;
and with what poor judgment he hath now cast
her off appears too grossly.
Reg. 'Tis the infirmity of his age : yet he
hath ever but slenderly known himself.
Gon. The best and soundest of his time hath
been but rash ; then must we look to receive
from his age not alone the imperfections of long-
engraffed condition, but therewithal the unruly
waywardness that infirm and choleric years
bring with them.
Reg. Such unconstant starts are we like to
have from him as this of Kent's banishment.
Gon. There is further compliment of leave-
taking between France and him. Pray you, let
us hit together : if our father carry authority
with such dispositions as he bears, this last
surrender of his will but offend us.
Reg. We shall further think of it.
Gon. We must do something, and i' the heat.
[Exettnt.
SCENE II. A Hallin the EARL OF
GLOSTER'S Castle.
Enter EDMUND with a letter.
Edm. Thou, nature, art my goddess ; to thy
1030
KING LEAR.
[ACT i.
My services are bound. Wherefore should I
Stand in the plague of custom, and permit
The curiosity of nations to deprive me,
For that I am some twelve or fourteen moon-
shines [base ?
Lag of a brother? Why bastard? wherefore
When my dimensions are as well compact,
My mind as generous, and my shape as true
As honest madam's issue ? Why brand they us
With base? with baseness? bastardy? base,
base?
WTio, in the lusty stealth of nature, take
More composition and fierce quality
Than doth, within a dull, stale, tired bed,
Go to the creating a whole tribe of fops
Got 'tween asleep and wake ? Well, then,
Legitimate Edgar, I must have your land :
Our father's love is to the bastard Edmund.
As to the legitimate : fine word, legitimate !
Well, my legitimate, if this letter speed,
And my invention thrive, Edmund the base
Shall top the legitimate. I grow; I prosper.
Now, gods, stand up for bastards !
Enter GLOSTER.
Glo. Kent banish'd thus ! and France in
choler parted ! [power !
And the king gone to-night ! subscrib'd his
Confin'd to exhibition 1 All this done
Upon the gad ! Edmund, how now ! what
news?
Edm. So please your lordship, none.
[Putting up the letter.
Glo. Why so earnestly seek you to put up
that letter ?
Edm. I know no news, my lord.
Glo. What paper were you reading ?
Edm. Nothing, my lord.
Glo. No ? What needed, then, that terrible
despatch of it into your pocket ? the quality of
nothing hath not such need to hide itself. Let 's
see : come, if it be nothing, I shall not need
spectacles.
Edm. I beseech you, sir, pardon me : it is a
letter from my brother that I have not all o'er-
read ; and for so much as I have perused, I
find it not fit for your over-looking.
Glo. Give me the letter, sir.
Edm. I shall offend either to detain or give
it. The contents, as in part I understand them,
are to blame.
Glo. Let 's see, let 's see.
Edm. I hope, for my brother's justification,
he wrote this but as an essay or taste of my
virtue.
Glo. [Reads.] This policy and reverence of
age. makes the world bitter to the best of our
times ; keeps our fortunes from us till otir old*
ness cannot relish them. I begin to find an idle
and fond bondage in the oppression of aged
tyranny ; who sways, not as it hath power ; but
as it is suffered. Come to me, that of this I
may speak more. If our father would sleep till
I waked him, you should enjoy half his revenue
for ever, and live the beloved of your brother,
EDGAR.
Hum Conspiracy ! Sleep till I waked him,
you should enjoy half his revenue, My son
Edgar ! Had he a hand to write this ? a heart
and a brain to breed it in ? When came this to
you ? who brought it ?
Edm. It was not brought me, my lord,
there 's the cunning of it ; I found it thrown in
at the casement of my closet. [brother's ?
Glo. You know the character to be your
Edm. If the matter were good, my lord, I
durst swear it were his ; but in respect of that,
I would fain think it were not.
Glo. It is his.
Edm. It is his hand, my lord ; but I hope
his heart is not in the contents.
Glo. Hath he never before sounded you in
this business?
Edm. Never, my lord : but I have heard
him oft maintain it to be fit that sons at perfect
age and fathers declined, the father should be
as ward to the son, and the son manage his
revenue.
Glo. O villain, villain ! His very opinion
in the letter ! Abhorred villain ! Unnatural,
detested, brutish villain ! worse than brutish !
Go, sirrah, seek him ; I '11 apprehend him.
Abominable villain ! Where is he ?
Edm. I do not well know, my lord. If it
shall please you to suspend your indignation
against my brother till you can derive from him
better testimony of his intent, you shall run a
certain course ; where, if you violently proceed
against him, mistaking his purpose, it would
make a great gap in your own honour, and
shake in pieces the heart of his obedience. I
dare pawn down my life for him that he hath
writ this to feel my affection to your honour,
and to no other pretence of danger.
Glo. Think you so?
Edm. If your honour judge it meet, I will
place you where you shall hear us confer of
this, and by an auricular assurance have your
satisfaction ; and that without any further de-
lay than this very evening.
Glo. He cannot be such a monster.
Edm. Nor is not, sure.
Glo. To his father, that so tenderly and
entirely loves him. Heaven and earth 1
SCENE II.]
KING LEAR.
1031
Edmund, seek him out ; wind me into him, 1
pray you : frame the business after your own
wisdom. I would unstate myself to be in a
due resolution.
Edm. I will seek him, sir, presently ; convey
the business as I shall find means, and acquaint
you withal.
Glo. These late eclipses in the sun and moon
portend no good to us : though the wisdom of
nature can reason it thus and thus, yet nature
finds itself scourged by the sequent effects: love
cools, friendship falls off, brothers divide : in
cities, mutinies ; in countries, discord ; in
palaces, treason ; and the bond cracked 'twixt
son and father. This villain of mine comes
under the prediction ; there 's son against
father : the king falls from bias of nature ;
there 's father against child. We have seen
the best of our time: machinations, hollow -
ness, treachery, and all ruinous disorders, fol-
low us disquietly to our graves. Find out this
villain, Edmund ; it shall lose thee nothing ;
do it carefully. And the noble and true-
hearted Ker;t banished! his offence, honesty!
'Tis strange. [Exit.
Edm. This is the excellent foppery of the
world, that, when we are sick in fortune,
often the surfeit of our own behaviour, we
make guilty of our disasters the sun, the moon,
and the stars : as i) we were villains by neces-
sity ; fools by heavenly compulsion ; knaves,
thieves, and treachers by spherical predomin-
ance ; drunkards, liars, and adulterers by an
enforced obedience ot planetary influence ; and
all that we are evil in, by a divine thrusting
on: an admirable evasion of whoremaster man,
to lay his goatish disposition to the charge of a
star ! My father compounded with my mother
under the dragon's tail, and my nativity was
under ursa major ; so that it follows I am
rough and lecherous. Tut, I should have been
that I am, had the maiden liest star in the
firmament twinkled on my bastardizing.
Enter EDGAR.
Pat ! he comes like the catastrophe of the old
comedy : my cue is villanous melancholy, with
a sigh like Tom o' Bedlam. O, these eclipses
do portend these divisions ! fa, sol, la, mi.
Edg. How now, brother Edmund ! what
serious contemplation are you in ?
Edm. I am thinking, brother, of a prediction
I read this other day, what should follow these
eclipses.
Edg. Do you busy yourself with that ?
Edm. I promise you, the effects he writes of
succeed unhappily ; as of unnaturalness between
the child and the parent ; death, dearth, dis-
solutions of ancient amities ; divisions in state,
menaces and maledictions against king and
nobles ; needless diffidences, banishment of
friends, dissipation of cohorts, nuptial breaches,
and I know not what.
Edg. How long have you been a sectary
astronomical? [father last?
Edm. Come, come; when saw you my
Edg. The night gone by.
Edm. Spake you with him ?
Edg. Ay, two hours together.
Edm. Parted you in good terms? Found
you no displeasure in him by word nor coun-
tenance?
Edg. None at all.
Edm. Bethink yourself wherein you may
have offended him : and at my entreaty forbear
his presence till some little time hath qualified
the heat of his displeasure ; which at this in-
stant so rageth in him that with the mischief of
your person it would scarcely allay.
Edg. Some villain hath done me wrong.
Edm. That's my fear. I pray you, have a
continent forbearance till the speed of his rage
goes slower ; and, as I say, retire with me to
my lodging, from whence I will fitly bring you
to hear my lord speak : pray you, go; there's
my key. If you do stir abroad, go armed.
Edg. Armed, brother !
Edm. Brother, I advise you to the best ; I
am no honest man if there be any good mean-
ing toward you : I have told you what I have
seen and heard but faintly; nothing like the
image and horror of it : pray you, away.
Edg. Shall I hear from you anon ?
Edm. I do serve you in this business.
[Exit EDGAR.
A credulous father ! and a brother noble,
Whose nature is so far from doing harms
That he suspects none ; on whose foolish honesty
My practices ride easy ! I see the business.
Let me, if not by birth, have lands by wit :
All with me 's meet that I can fashion fit.
[Exit.
!v/oawoH [,KTRfai3sfc.Sktrj;a3 -^bssnliitss
SCENE III. A Room in the DUKE OF
ALBANY'S Palace.
Enter GONERIL and OSWALD.
Gon. Did my father strike my gentleman
for chiding of his fool ?
Osw. Ay, madam. [hour
Gon. By day and night, he wrongs me ; every
He flashes into one gross crime or other,
That sets us all at odds : I '11 not endure it :
1032
KING LEAR.
[ACT
His knights grow riotous, and himself upbraids
us [ing
On every trifle. When he returns from hunt-
I will not speak with him ; say I am sick.
If you come slack of former services
You shall do well ; the fault of it I '11 answer.
Osw. He 's coming, madam : I hear him.
[Horns within.
Gon. Put on what weary negligence you
please, [question :
You and your fellows ; I 'd have it come to
If he distaste it, let him to my sister,
Whose mind and mine, I know, in that are one,
Not to be overruled. Idle old man,
That still would manage those authorities
That he hath given away ! Now, by my life,
Old fools are babes again ; and must be us'd
With checks as flatteries, when they are seen
abus'd.
Remember what I have said.
Osw. Well, madam.
Gon. And let his knights have colder looks
among you ; [so :
What grows of it, no matter ; advise your fellows
I would breed from hence occasions, and I
shall, [sister
That I may speak. I '11 write straight to my
To hold my course. Prepare for dinner.
[Exeunt.
SCENE IV. A Hall in ALBANY'S Palace.
Enter KENT, disguised.
Kent. If but as well I other accents borrow,
That can my speech diffuse, my good intent
May carry through itself to that full issue
For which I rais'd my likeness. Now, ban-
ish'd Kent, [demn'd,
If thou canst serve where thou dost stand con-
So may it come, thy master, whom thou lov'st,
Shall find thee full of labours.
Horns within. Enter KING LEAR, Knights,
and Attendants.
Lear. Let me not stay a jot for dinner ; go
get it ready. [Exit an Attendant. ] How now !
what art thou?
Kent. A man, sir.
Lear. What dost thou profess? What
wouldst thou with us ?
Kent. I do profess to be no less than I seem ;
to serve him truly that will put me in trust ; to
love him that is honest ; to converse with him
that is wise and says little ; to fear judgment ;
to fight when I cannot choose ; and to eat no
fish.
Lear. What art thou?
Kent. A very honest-hearted fellow, and as
poor as the king.
Lear. If thou be'st as poor for a subject as
he 's for a king, thou art poor enough. What
wouldst thou?
Kent. Service.
Lear. Who wouldst thou serve?
Kent. You.
Lear. Dost thou know me, fellow?
Kent. No, sir; but you have that in your
countenance which I would fain call master.
Lear. What's that?
Kent. Authority.
Lear. What services canst thou do?
Kent. I can keep honest counsel, ride, run,
mar a curious tale in telling it, and deliver a
plain message bluntly : that which ordinary men
are fit for, I am qualified in : and the best ot
me is diligence.
Lear. How old art thou?
Kent. Not so young, sir, to love a woman
for singing ; nor so old to dote on her for any-
thing : I have years on my back forty-eight.
Lear. Follow me ; thou shalt serve me : if I
like thee no worse after dinner, I will not part
from thee yet. Dinner, ho, dinner ! Where 's
my knave? my fool? Go you and call my fool
hither. [Exit an Attend.
Enter OSWALD.
You, you, sirrah, where 's my daughter?
Osw. So please you, [Exit.
Lear. What says the fellow there? Call the
clotpoll back. [Exit a Knight. ] Where 's my
fool, ho? I think the world 's asleep.
Re-enter Knight.
How now ! where 's that mongrel ?
Knight. He says, my lord, your daughter is
not well.
Lear. Why came not the slave back to me
when I called him?
Knight. Sir, he answered me in the roundest
manner, he would not.
Lear. He would not !
Knight. My lord, I know not what the
matter is ; but, to my judgment, your highness
is not entertained with that ceremonious affec-
tion as you were wont ; there 's a great abate-
ment of kindness appears as well in the general
dependants as in the duke himself also and your
daughter.
Lear. Ha ! sayest thou so ?
Knight. I beseech you, pardon me, my lord,
if I be mistaken ; for my duty cannot be silent
when I think your highness wronged.
Lear. Thou but rememberest me of mine
SCENE IV.]
KING LEAR.
1033
own conception : I have perceived a most faint
neglect of late ; which I have rather blamed as
mine own jealous curiosity than as a very pre-
tence and purpose of unkindness : I will look
further into't. But where 's my fool? I have
not seen him this two days.
Knight. Since my young lady's going into
France, sir, the fool hath much pined away.
Lear. No more of that ; I have noted it
well. Go you and tell my daughter I would
speak with her. [Exit an Attendant.] Go
you, call hither my fool.
[Exit another Attendant.
Re-enter OSWALD.
0, you sir, you, come you hither, sir : who am
1, sir?
Osw. My lady's father.
Lear. My lady's father ! my lord's knave :
you whoreson dog ! you slave ! you cur !
Osw. I am none of these, my lord ; I be-
seech your pardon.
Lear. Do you bandy looks with me, you
rascal ? [Striking him.
Osw. I '11 not be struck, my lord.
Kent. Nor tripped neither, you base football
player. [Tripping up his heels.
Lear. I thank thee, fellow ; thou servest
me, and I '11 love thee.
Kent. Come, sir, arise, away ! I '11 teach
you differences : away, away ! If you will
measure your lubber's length again, tarry : but
away ! go to ; have you wisdom ? so.
[Pushes OSWALD out.
JLear. Now, my friendly knave, I thank thee :
there 's earnest of thy service.
[Giving KENT money.
Enter FOOL.
Fool. Let me hire him too ; here 's my cox-
comb. [Giving KENT his cap.
Lear. How now, my pretty knave ! how dost
thou?
Fool. Sirrah, you were best take my coxcomb.
Kent. Why, fool?
Fool. Why, for taking one's part that 's out
of favour. Nay, an thou canst not smile as the
wind sits, thou 'It catch cold shortly: there,
take my coxcomb : why, this fellow has ban-
ish'd two on 's daughters, and did the third a
blessing against his will ; if thou follow him,
thou must needs wear my coxcomb. How now,
nuncle ! Would I had two coxcombs and two
daughters !
Lear. Why, my boy ?
Fool. If I gave them all my living, I 'd keep
my coxcombs myself. There 's mine ; beg
another of thy daughters.
Lear. Take heed, sirrah, the whip.
Fool. Truth 's a dog must to kennel ; he
must be whipped out, when the lady brach may
stand by the fire and stink.
Lear. A pestilent gall to me !
Fool. Sirrah, I '11 teach thee a speech.
Lear. Do.
Fool. Mark it, nuncle :
Have more than thou showest,
Speak less than thou knowest,
Lend less than thou owest,
Ride more than thou goest,
Learn more than thou trowest,
Set less than thou throwest ;
Leave thy drink and thy whore,
And keep in-a-door,
And thou shall have more
Than two tens to a score.
Kent. This is nothing, fool.
Fool. Then 'tis like the breath of an unfee'd
lawyer, you gave me nothing for 't. Can you
make no use of nothing, nuncle ?
Lear. Why, no, boy ; nothing can be made
out of nothing.
Fool. Pr'ythee, tell him, so much the rent of
his land comes to : he will not believe a fool.
[To KENT.
Lear. A bitter fool !
Fool. Dost thou know the difference, my
boy, between a bitter fool and a sweet one ?
Lear. No, lad ; teach me.
Fool. That lord that counsell'd thee
To give away thy land,
Come place him here by me,
Do thou for him stand :
The sweet and bitter fool
Will presently appear ;
The one in motley here,
The other found out there.
Lear. Dost thou call me fool, boy?
Fool. All thy other titles thou hast given
away ; that thou wast born with.
Kent. This is not altogether fool, my lord.
Fool. No, faith, lords and great men will not
let me ; if I had a monopoly out, they would
have part on 't, and loads too : they will not let
me have all fool to myself ; they '11 be snatch-
ing. Nuncle, give me an egg, and I '11 give
thee two crowns.
Lear. What two crowns shall they be ?
Fool. Why, after I have cut the egg i' the
middle, and eat up the meat, the two crowns
of the egg. When thou clovest thy crown i'
the middle, and gavest away both parts, thou
borest thine ass on thy back o'er the dirt : thou
1034
KING LEAR.
[ACT I.
hadst little wit in thy bald crown when them
gavest thy golden one away. If I speak like
myself in this, let him be whipped that first
finds it so.
Fools had ne'er less grace in a year ; [Singing,
For wise men are grown foppish,
And know not how their wits to wear,
Their manners are so apish.
Lear. When were you wont to be so full of
songs, sirrah?
Fool. I have used it, nuncle, e'er since thou
madest thy daughters thy mothers : for when
thou gavest them the rod, and puttest down
thine own breeches,
Then they for sudden joy did weep, \Singing.
And I for sorrow sung,
That such a king should play bo-peep,
And go the fools among.
Pr'ythee, nuncle, keep a schoolmaster that can
teach thy fool to lie : I would fain learn to
lie. [whipped.
Lear. An you lie, sirrah, we'll have you
Fool. I marvel what kin thou and thy
daughters are : they '11 have me whipped for
speaking true, thou 'It have me whipped for ly-
ing ; and sometimes I am whipped for holding
my peace. I had rather be any kind o' thing
than a fool : and yet I would not be thee,
nuncle ; thou hast pared thy wit o' both sides,
and left nothing i' the middle: here comes
one o' the parings.
Enter GONERIL.
Lear. How now, daughter ! what makes
that frontlet on ? Methinks you are too much
of late i' the frown.
Fool. Thou wast a pretty fellow when thou
hadst no need to care for her frowning ; now
thou art an O without a figure: I am better
than thou art ; I am a fool, thou art nothing.
Yes, forsooth, I will hold my tongue } so your
face [ to GON.] bids me, though you say nothing.
Alum, mum,
He that keeps nor crust nor crumb,
Weary of all, shall want some.
That 's a shealed peascod. \_Pointingto LEAR.
Gon. Not only, sir, this your all-licens'd fool,
But other of your insolent retinue
Do hourly carp and quarrel ; breaking forth
in rank and not-to-be-endured riots. Sir,
I had thought, by making this well known unto
you, [fearful,
To have found a safe redress ; but now grow
By what yourself too late have spoke and done,
That you protect this course, and put it on
By your allowance ; which if you should, the
fault
Would netscape censure, nor the redresses sleep,
Which, in the tender of a wholesome weal,
Might in their working do you that offence,
Which else were shame, that then necessity
Will call discreet proceeding.
Fool. For, you know, nuncle,
The hedge-sparrow fed the cuckoo so long
That it had its head bit off by its young.
So, out went the candle, and we were left
darkling.
Lear. Are you our daughter ?
Gon. I would you would make use of your
food wisdom,
know you are fraught ; and put away
These dispositions, which of late transport you
From what you rightly are.
Fool. May not an ass know when the cart
draws the horse ? Whoop, Jug ! I love thee.
Lear. Does any here know me ? This is not
Lear : [his eyes ?
Does Lear walk thus ? speak thus? Where are
Either his notion weakens, his discernings
Are lethargied. Ha ! waking? 'tis not so.
Who is it that can tell me who I am ?
Fool. Lear's shadow. [of sovereignty,
Lear. I would learn that ; for, by the marks
Knowledge, and reason,
I should be false persuaded I had daughters.
Fool. Which they will make an obedient
father.
Lear. Your name, fair gentlewoman ?
Gon. This admiration, sir, is much o' the
favour
Of other your new pranks. I do beseech you
To understand my purposes aright :
As you are old and reverend, should be wise.
Here do you keep a hundred knights and
squires ;
Men so disorder'd, so debosh'd and bold,
That this our court, infected with their manners.
Shows like a riotous inn : epicurism and lust
Make it more like a tavern or a brothel
Than &. grac'd palace. The shame itself doth
speak
For instant remedy : be, then, desir'd
By her that else will take the thing she begs,
A little to disquantity your train ;
And the remainder, that shall still depend,
To be such men as may besort your age,
Which know themselves and you.
Lear. Darkness and devils !
Saddle my horses ; call my train together.
Degenerate bastard ! I '11 not trouble thee :
Yet have I left a daughter.
Gon. You strike my people ; and your dis
order'd rabble
Make servants of their betters.
SCENE IV.]
KING LEAR.
1035
Enter ALBANY.
Lear. Woe, that too late repents, \to ALB.]
O, sir, are you come? [horses.
Is it your will? Speak, sir. Prepare my
Ingratitude, thou marble-hearted fiend,
More hideous when thou show'st thee in a child
Than the sea-monster !
Alb. Pray, sir, be patient.
Lear. Detested kite ! thou liest :
\To GONERIL.
My train are men of choice and rarest parts,
That all particulars of duty know ;
And in the most exact regard support [fault,
The worships of their name. O most small
How ugly didst thou in Cordelia show !
Which, like an engine, wrench'd my frame of
nature [love,
From the fix'd place ; drew from my heart all
And added to the gall. O Lear, Lear, Lear !
Beat at this gate, that let thy folly in
{Striking his head.
And thy dear judgment out ! Go, go, my
people. [ignorant
Alb. My lord, I am guiltless, as I am
Of what hath mov'd you.
Lear. It may be so, my lord.
Hear, nature, hear ; dear goddess, hear
Suspend thy purpose if thou didst intend
To make this creature fruitful !
Into her womb convey sterility !
Dry up in her the organs of increase;
And from her derogate body never spring
A babe to honour her ! If she must teem,
Create her child of spleen, that it may live
And be a thwart disnatur'd torment to her !
Let it stamp wrinkles in her brow of youth ;
With cadent tears fret channels in her cheeks ;
Turn all her mother's pains and benefits
To laughter and contempt ; that she may feel
How sharper than a serpent's tooth it is
To have a thankless child ! Away, away !
[Exit.
Alb. Now, gods that we adore, whereof
comes this ? [it ;
Gon. Never afflict yourself to know more of
But let his disposition have that scope
That dotage gives it.
Re-enter LEAR.
Lear. What, fifty of my followers at a clap !
Within a fortnight !
Alb. What's the matter, sir?
Lear. I '11 tell thee, Life and death ! I am
asham'd [To GONERIL.
That thou hast power to shake my manhood
thus;
That these hot tears, which break from me
perforce,
Should make thee worth them. Blasts and
fogs upon thee !
The untented woundings of a father's curse,
Pierce every sense about thee ! Old fond eyes,
Beweep this cause again, I '11 pluck you out,
And cast you, with the waters that you lose,
To temper clay. Ha!
Let it be so : I have another daughter,
Who, I am sure, is kind and comfortable:
When she shall hear this of thee, with her nails
She '11 flay thy wolfish visage. Thou shalt find
That I'll resume the shape which thou dost
think
I have cast off for ever.
\Exeunt LEAR, KENT, and Attendants.
Gon. Do you mark that?
Alb. I cannot be so partial, Goneril,
To the great love I bear you, [ho !
Gon. Pray you, content. What, Oswald,
You, sir, more knave than fool, after your
master. [To the Fool.
Fool. Nuncle Lear, nuncle Lear, tarry,' take
the fool with thee.
A fox, when one has caught her,
And such a daughter,
Should sure to the slaughter,
If my cap would buy a halter:
So the fool follows after. [Exit.
Gon. This man hath had good counsel. A
hundred knights!
'Tis politic and safe to let him keep [dream,
At point a hundred knights : yes, that on every
Each buzz, each fancy, each complaint, dislike,
He may enguard his dotage with their powers,
And hold our lives in mercy. Oswald, I say !
Alb. Well, you may fear too far.
Gon. Safer than trust too far :
Let me still take away the harms I fear,
Not fear still to be taken : I know his heart.
What he hath utter'd I have writ my sister:
If she sustain him and his hundred knights,
When I have show'd the unfitness,
Re-enter OSWALD.
How now, Oswald !
What, have you writ that letter to my sister?
Osw. Ay, madam. [horse:
Gon. Take you some company, and away to
Inform her full of my particular fear ;
And thereto add such reasons of your own
As may compact it more. Get you gone ;
And hasten your return. [Exit OSWALD.]
No, no, my lord,
This milky gentleness and course of yours,
Though I condemn it not, yet, under pardon,
1036
KING LEAR.
[ACT n.
You are much more attask'd for want of wisdom
Than prais'd for harmful mildness. [tell :
Alb. How far your eyes may pierce I cannot
Striving to better, oft we mar what 's well.
Gon. Nay, then,
Alb. Well, well ; the event. {Exeunt.
SCENE V. Court before the DUKE OF
ALBANY'S Palace.
Enter LEAR, KENT, and Fool.
Lear. Go you before to Gloster with these
letters : acquaint my daughter no further with
anything you know than comes from her demand
out of the letter. If your diligence be not
speedy, I shall be there afore you.
Kent. I will not sleep, my lord, till I have
delivered your letter. {Exit.
Fool. If a man's brains were in 's heels,
were't not in danger of kibes?
Lear. Ay, boy.
Fool. Then, I pr'ythee, be merry; thy wit
shall not go slipshod.
Lear. Ha, ha, ha!
Fool. Shalt see thy other daughter will use
thee kindly ; for though she 's as like this as a
crab 's like an apple, yet I can tell what I can
tell.
Lear. What canst tell, boy?
Fool. She will taste as like this as a crab does
to a crab. Thou canst tell why one's nose
stands i' the middle on's face?
Lear. No.
Fool. Why to keep one's eyes of either side 's
nose, that what a man cannot smell out, he may
spy into.
Lear. I did her wrong,
Fool. Canst tell how an oyster makes his
shell?
Lear. No.
Fool. Nor I neither ; but I can tell why a
snail has a house.
Lear. Why?
Fool. Why, to put his head in ; not to give
it away to his daughters, and leave his horns
without a case.
Lear. I will forget my nature. So kind a
father ! Be my horses ready?
Fool. Thy asses are gone about 'em. The
reason why the seven stars are no more than
seven is a pretty reason.
Lear. Because they are not eight?
Fool. Yes, indeed: thou wouldst make a
good fool.
Lear. To take't again perforce! Monster
ingratitude !
Fool. If thou wert my fool, nuncle, I 'd have
thee beaten for being old before thy time.
Lear. How's that?
Fool. Thou shouldst not have been old till
thou hadst been wise. [heaven !
Lear. O, let me not be mad, not mad, sweet
Keep me in temper : I would not be mad !
Enter Gentleman.
How now! are the horses ready?
Gent. Ready, my lord.
Lear. Come, boy. [my departure,
Fool. She that 's a maid now, and laughs at
Shall not be a maid long, unless things be cut
shorter. {Exeunt.
ACT II.
SCENE I. A Court within the Castle of the
EARL OF GLOSTER.
Enter EDMUND and CURAN, meeting.
Edm. Save thee, Curan.
Cur. And you, sir. I have been with your
father, and given him notice that the Duke of
Cornwall and Regan his duchess will be here
with him this night.
Edm. How comes that?
Cur. Nay, I know not. You have heard of
the news abroad; I mean, the whispered ones,
for they are yet but ear-kissing arguments?
Edm. Not I: pray you, what are they?
Cur. Have you heard of no likely wars
toward, 'twixt the Dukes of Cornwall and
Albany?
Edm. Not a word.
Cur. You may, then, in time. Fare you
well, sir. [Exit.
Edm. The duke be here to-night? The
better! best!
This weaves itself perforce into my business.
My father hath set guard to take my brother ;
And I have one thing, of a queasy question,
Which I must act : briefness and fortune
work !
Brother, a word ; descend : brother, I say !
Enter EDGAR.
My father watches : O sir, fly this place ;
Intelligence is given where you are hid ;
You have now the good advantage of the
night. [wall?
Have you not spoken 'gainst the Duke of Corn-
He 's coming hither ; now, i' the night, i' the
haste,
And Regan with him : have you nothing said
SCENE I.]
KING LEAR.
1037
Upon his party 'gainst the Duke of Albany?
Advise yourself.
Edg. I am sure on J t, not a word.
Edm. I hear my father coming: pardon me;
In cunning I must draw my sword upon you :
Draw: seem to defend yourself: now quit you
well. [here !
Yield: come before my father. Light, ho,
Fly, brother. Torches, torches ! So, farewell.
[Exit EDGAR.
Some blood drawn on me would beget opinion
[ Wounds his arm.
Of my more fierce endeavour: I have seen
drunkards
Do more than this in sport. Father, father !
Stop, stop! No help?
Enter GLOSTER, and Servants with torches.
Glo. Now, Edmund, where 's the villain?
Edm. Here stood he in the dark, his sharp
sword out, [moon
Mumbling of wicked charms, conjuring the
To stand auspicious mistress,
Glo. But where is he?
Edm. Look, sir, I bleed.
Glo. Where is the villain, Edmund?
Edm. Fled this way, sir. When by no means
he could,
Glo. Pursue him, ho! Go after. [Exeunt
Servants.] By no means what?
Edm. Persuade me to the murder of your
lordship ;
But that I told him the revenging gods
'Gainst parricides did all their thunders bend ;
Spoke with how manifold and strong a bond
The child was bound to the father ; sir, in fine,
Seeing how loathly opposite I stood
To his unnatural purpose, in fell motion,
With his prepared sword, he charges home
My unprovided body, lanc'd mine arm :
But when he saw my best alarum'd spirits,
Bold in thequarrel's right, rous'd to the encounter,
Or whether gasted by the noise I made,
Full suddenly he fled.
Glo. Let him fly far :
Not in this land shall he remain uncaught ;
And found, despatch'd. The noble duke my
master,
My worthy arch and patron, comes to-night :
By his authority I will proclaim it, [thanks,
That he which finds him shall deserve our
Bringing the murderous coward to the stake ;
He that conceals him, death.
Edm. When I dissuaded him from his intent,
And found him pight to do it, with curst speech
I threaten'd to discover him : he replied,
Thou unpossessing bastard I dost thou think ,
If I would stand against thee, would the reposal
Of any trust ', virtue or worth , in thee [deny,
Make thy words faith 1 d? No: what I should
As this I would ; ay, though thou didst produce
My very character ; fd turn it all
To thy suggestion^ plot, and damned practice :
And thou must make a dullard of the world,
If they not thought the profits of my death
Were very pregnant and potential spurs
To make thee seek it.
Glo. O strong and fasten'd villain !
Would he deny his letter? I never got him.
[Trumpets within.
Hark, the duke's trumpets ! I know not why
he comes.
All ports I '11 bar ; the villain shall not scape ;
The duke must grant me that: besides, his
picture
I will send far and near, that all the kingdom
May have due note of him ; and of my land,
Loyal and natural boy, I '11 work the means
To make thee capable.
Enter CORNWALL, REGAN, and Attendants.
Corn. How now, my noble friend ! since I
came hither,
Which I xn call but now, I have heard
strange news. [short
Reg. If it be true, all vengeance comes too
Which can pursue the offender. How dost,
my lord?
Glo. O, madam, my old heart is crack'd,
it'scrack'd! [life?
Reg. What, did my father's godson seek your
He whom my father nam'd ? your Edgar ?
Glo. O lady, lady, shame would have it hid !
Reg. Was he not companion with the riotous
knights
That tend upon my father ?
Glo. I know not, madam :
It is too bad, too bad.
Edm. Yes, madam, he was of that consort.
Reg. No marvel, then, though he were ill
affected :
'Tis they have put him on the old man's death,
To have the expense and waste of his revenues.
I have this present evening from my sister
Been well inform'd of them ; and with such
cautions,
That if they come to sojourn at my house,
I '11 not be there.
Corn. Nor I, assure thee, Regan.
Edmund, I hear that you have shown your father
A child-like office.
Edm. 'Twas my duty, sir.
Glo. He did bewray his practice ; and receiv'd
This hurt you see, striving to apprehend him.
1038
KING LEAR.
[ACT ii.
Corn. Is he pursu'd ?
Glo. Ay, my good lord.
Corn. If he be taken he shall never more
Be fear'd of doing harm : make your own
purpose, [Edmund,
How in my strength you please. For you,
Whose virtue and obedience doth this instant
So much commend itself, you shall be ours :
Natures of such deep trust we shall much need ;
You we first seize on.
Edm. I shall serve you, sir,
Truiy, however else.
Glo. For him I thank your grace.
Corn. You know not why we came to visit
you, [night :
Reg. Thus out of season, threading dark-ey'd
Occasions, noble Gloster, of some poise,
Wherein we must have use of your advice :
Our father he hath writ, so hath our sister,
Of differences, which I best thought it fit
To answer from our home ; the several mes-
sengers [friend,
From hence attend despatch. Our good old
Lay comforts to your bosom ; and bestow
Your needful counsel to our businesses,
Which crave the instant use.
Glo. I serve you, madam :
Your graces are right welcome. [Exeunt.
SCENE II. Before OLDSTER'S Castle.
Enter KENT and OSWALD severally.
Osw. Good dawning to thee, friend : art of
this house ?
Kent. Ay.
Osw. Where may we set our horses ?
A'ent. I' the mire.
Osw. Pr'ythee, if thou lovest me, tell me.
Kent I love thee not.
Osw.- Why, then, I care not for thee.
Kent. If I had thee in Lipsbury pinfold I
would make thee care for me. [thee not.
Osw. Why dost thou use me thus ? I know
Kent. Fellow, I know thee.
Osw. What dost thou know me for ?
Kent. A knave, a rascal, an eater of broken
meats ; a base, proud, shallow, beggarly, three-
suited, hundred-pound, filthy, worsted-stocking
knave ; a lily-livered, action-taking whoreson,
glass-gazing, superserviceable, finical rogue ;
one-trunk-inheriting slave ; one that wouldst be
a bawd, in way of good service, and art nothing
but the composition of a knave, beggar, coward,
pander, and the son and heir of a mongrel
bitch : one whom I will beat into clamorous
whining, if thou denyest the least syllable of
thy addition.
Osw. Why, what a monstrous fellow art thou,
thus to rail on one that is neither known of
thee nor knows thee?
Kent. What a brazen-faced varlet art thou,
to deny thou knowest me ! Is it two days since
I tripped up thy heels and beat thee before the
king ? Draw, you rogue : for, though it be
night, yet the moon shines ; I '11 make a sop o'
the moonshine of you : draw, you whoreson
cullionly barber-monger, draw.
{Drawing his sword.
Osw. Away ! I have nothing to do with thee.
Kent. Draw, you rascal : you come with
letters against the king ; and take vanity the
puppet's part against the royalty of her father :
draw, you rogue, or I '11 so carbonado your
shanks: draw, you rascal ; come your ways.
Osw. Help, ho ! murder ! help.
Kent. Strike, you slave; stand, rogue, stand;
you neat slave, strike. [Beating him.
Osw. Help, ho ! murder ! murder !
Enter EDMUND, CORNWALL, REGAN,
GLOSTER, and Servants.
Edm. How now ! What 's the matter ?
Kent. With you, goodman boy, if you please :
come, I '11 flesh you ; come on, young master.
Glo. Weapons ! arms ! What 's the mattei
here?
Corn. Keep peace, upon your lives ;
He dies that strikes again. What is the
matter? [king.
Reg. The messengers from our sister and the
Corn. What is your difference ? speak.
Osw. I am scarce in breath, my lord.
Kent. No marvel, you have so bestirr'd your
valour. You cowardly rascal, nature disclaims
in thee : a tailor made thee.
Corn. Thou art a strange fellow : a tailor
make a man ?
Kent. Ay, a tailor, sir : a stone-cutter or a
painter could not have made him so ill, though
they had been but two hours at the trade.
Corn. Speak yet, how grew your quarrel ?
Osw. This ancient ruffian, sir, whose life I
have spared at suit of his gray beard,
Kent. Thou whoreson zed ! thou unnecessary
letter ! My lord, if you will give me leave, I
will tread this unbolted villain into mortar, and
daub the wall of a jakes with him. Spare my
gray beard, you wagtail ?
Corn. Peace, sirrah!
You beastly knave, know you no reverence ?
Kent. Yes, sir ; but anger hath a privilege.
Corn. Why art thou angry ?
Kent. That such a slave as this should wear
a sword,
SCENE II.]
KING LEAR.
1039
Who wears no honesty. Such smiling rogues
as these,
Like rats, oft bite the holy cords a-twain
Which are too intrinse t' unloose ; smooth every
passion
That in the natures of their lords rebel ;
Bring oil to fire, snow to their colder moods ;
Renege, affirm, and turn their halcyon beaks
With every gale and vary of their masters,
Knowing naught, like dogs, but following.
A plague upon your epileptic visage !
Smile you my speeches, as I were a fool ?
Goose, if I had you upon Sarum plain
I 'd drive ye cackling home to Camelot.
Corn. What, art thou mad, old fellow ?
Glo. How fell you out ?
Say that.
Kent, No contraries hold more antipathy
Than I and such a knave. [is his fault ?
Corn. Why dost thcu call him knave ? What
Kent. His countenance likes me not.
Corn. No more, perchance, does mine, nor
his, nor hers.
Kent. Sir, 'tis my occupation to be plain :
I have seen better faces in my time
Than stands on any shoulder that I see
Before me at this instant.
Corn. This is some fellow
Who, having been prais'd for bluntness, doth
affect
A saucy roughness, and constrains the garb
Quite from his nature : he cannot flatter, he,
An honest mind and plain, he must speak
truth !
An they will take it, so ; if not, he 's plain.
These kind of knaves I know, which in this
plainness
Harbour more craft and more corrupter ends
Than twenty silly ducking observants
That stretch their duties nicely.
Kent. Sir, in good faith, in sincere verity,
Under the allowance of your great aspect,
Whose influence, like the wreath of radiant fire
On flickering Phoebus' front,
Corn. What mean'st by this ?
Kent. To go out of my dialect, which you
discommend so much. I know, sir, I am no
flatterer : he that beguiled you in a plain accent
was a plain knave ; which, for my part, I will
not be, though I should win your displeasure to
entreat me to *t.
Corn. What was the offence you gave him ?
Osw. \ never gave him any :
It pleas'd the king his master very late
To strike at me, upon his misconstruction ;
When he, compact, and flattering his displea-
sure,
Tripp'd me behind ; being down, insulted,
rail'd,
And put upon him such a deal of man,
That worthied him, got praises of the king
For him attempting who was self-subdu'd ;
And, in the fleshment of this dread exploit,
Drew on me here again.
Kent. None of these rogues and cowards
But Ajax is their fool.
Com. Fetch forth the stocks !
You stubborn ancient knave, you reverend
braggart,
We '11 teach you,
Kent. Sir, I am too old to learn :
Call not your stocks for me : I serve the king ;
On whose employment I was sent to you :
You shall do small respect, show too bold malice
Against the grace and person of my master,
Stocking his messenger.
Corn. Fetch forth the stocks !
As I have life and honour, there shall he sit
till noon. [night too.
Reg. Till noon ! till night, my lord ; and all
Kent. Why, madam, if I were your father's
dog
You should not use me so.
Reg. Sir, being his knave, I will.
Corn. This is a fellow of the self-same colour
Our sister speaks of. Come, bring away the
stocks ! [Stocks brought out.
Glo. Let me beseech your grace not to do
so:
His fault is much, and the good king his
master [rection
Will check him for't : your purpos'd low cor-
Is such as basest and contemned'st wretches,
For pilferings and most common trespasses,
Are punish'd with : the king must take it ill
That he, so slightly valu'd in his messenger,
Should have him thus restrain'd.
Corn. I '11 answer that.
Reg: My sister may receive it much more
worse
To have her gentleman abus'd, assaulted,
For following her affairs. Put in his legs.
[KENT is put in the stocks.
Come, my lord, away.
[Exeunt all but GLOSTER and KENT.
Glo. I am sorry for thee, friend ; 'tis the
duke's pleasure,
Whose disposition, all the world well knows,
Will not be rubb'd nor stopp'd : I '11 entreat
for thee.
Kent. Pray, do not, sir : I have watch'd,
and travell'd hard ;
Some time I shall sleep out, the rest I'll
whistle.
1040
KING LEAR.
[ACT II.
A good man's fortune may grow out at heels :
Give you good -morrow !
670. The duke 's to blame in this ; 'twill be
ill taken. [Exit.
Kent. Good king, that must approve the
^r ,iiol common saw,
Thou out of heaven's benediction com'st
To the warm sun !
Approach, thou beacon to this under globe,
That by thy comfortable beams I may
Peruse this letter ! Nothing almost sees
miracles
But misery : I know 'tis from Cordelia,
Who hath most fortunately been inform'd
Of my obscured course ; and shall find time
From this enormous state, seeking to give
Losses their remedies, All weary and o'er-
watch'd,
Take vantage, heavy eyes, not to behold
This shameful lodging.
Fortune, good-night: smile once more; turn
thy wheel ! \He sleeps.
SCENE III. The open Country.
Enter EDGAR.
Edg. I heard myself proclaim'd ;
And by the happy hollow of a tree
Escap'd the hunt. No port is free ; no place,
That guard and most unusual vigilance
Does not attend my taking. While I may scape
I will preserve myself: and am bethought
To take the basest and most poorest shape
That ever penury, in contempt of man, [filth ;
Brought near to beast : my face I '11 grime with
Blanket my loins; elf all my hair in knots;
And with presented nakedness outface
The winds and persecutions of the sky.
The country gives me proof and precedent
Of Bedlam beggars, who, with roaring voices,
Strike in their numb'd and mortified bare arms
Pins, wooden pricks, nails, sprigs of rosemary ;
And with this horrible object, from low farms,
Poor pelting villages, sheep-cotes, and mills,
Sometime with lunatic bans, sometime with
prayers, [Tom !
Enforce their charity. Poor Turlygod ! poor
That's something yet: Edgar I nothing am.
[Exit.
SCENE IV. Before GLOSTER'S Castle. KENT
in the Stocks.
Enter LEAR, Fool, and Gentleman.
Lea)'. 'Tis strange that they should so depart
from home,
And not send back my messenger.
Gent. As I learn'd,
The night before there was no purpose in them
Of this remove.
Kent. Hail to thee, noble master !
Lear. Ha!
Mak'st thou this shame thy pastime?
Kent. No, my lord.
Fool. Ha, ha ! he wears cruel garters. . Horses
are tied by the head ; dogs and bears by the
neck, monkeys by the loins, and men by the
legs : when a man is over-lusty at legs, then he
wears wooden nether-stocks.
Lear. What 's he that hath so much thy place
mistook
To set thee here?
Kent. It is both he and she,
Your son and daughter.
Lear. No.
Kent. Yes.
Lear. No, I say.
Kent. I say, yea.
Lear. No, no ; they would not.
Kent. Yes, they have.
Lear. By Jupiter, I swear, no.
Kent. By Juno, I swear, ay.
Lear. They durst not do 't.
They could not, would not do't; 'tis worse
than murder,
To do upon respect such violent outrage :
Resolve me, with all modest haste, which way
Thou might'st deserve or they impose this usage,
Coming from us.
Kent. My lord, when at their home
I did commend your highness' letters to them,
Ere I was risen from the place that show'd
My duty kneeling, came there a reeking post,
Stew'd in his haste, half breathless, panting forth
From Goneril his mistress salutations ;
Deliver'd letters, spite of intermission,
Which presently they read : on whose contents
They summon'd up their meiny, straight took
horse;
Commanded me to follow, and attend
The leisure of their answer ; gave me cold looks :
And meeting here the other messenger,
Whose welcome I perceiv'd had poison'd
mine,
Being the very fellow which of late
Display'd so saucily against your highness,
Having more man than wit about me, drew :
He rais'd the house with loud and coward cries.
Your son and daughter found this trespass worth
The shame which here it suffers.
Fool. Winter's not gone yet, if the wild-
geese fly that way.
Fathers that wear rags
Do make their children blind ;
SCENE IV.]
KING LEAR.
1041
But fathers that bear bags
Shall see their children kind.
Fortune, that arrant whore,
Ne'er turns the key to the poor.
But, for all this, thou shalt have as many dolours
for thy daughters as thou canst tell in a year.
Lear. O, how this mother swells up toward
my heart !
Hystericapassio, down, thou climbing sorrow,
Thy element's below ! Where is this daughter?
Kent. With the earl, sir, here within.
Lear. Follow me not ;
Stay here. [Exit.
Gent. Made you no more offence but what
you speak of?
Kent. None. [number?
How chance the king comes with so small a
Fool. An thou hadst been set i' the stocks for
that question, thou hadst well deserved it.
Kent. Why, fool ?
Fool. We Ml set thee to school to an ant, to
teach thee there 's no labouring in the winter.
All that follow their noses are led by their eyes
but blind men ; and there 's not a nose among
twenty but can smell him that 's stinking. Let
go thy hold when a great wheel runs down a
hill, lest it break thy neck with following it ;
but the great one that goes up the hill, let him
draw thee after. When a wise man gives thee
better counsel, give me mine again: I would
have none but knaves follow it, since a fool
gives it.
That sir which serves and seeks for gain,
And follows but for form,
Will pack when it begins to rain,
And leave thee in the storm.
But I will tarry ; the fool will stay,
And let the wise man fly :
The knave turns fool that runs away
The fool no knave, perdy.
Kent. Where learn'd you this, fool?
Fool. Not i' the stocks, fool.
Re-enter LEAR, with GLOSTKR.
Lear. Deny to speak with me? They are
sick? they are weary?
They have travell'd all the night ? Mere fetches ;
The images of revolt and flying off.
Fetch me a better answer.
Glo. My dear lord.
You know the fiery quality of the duke ;
How unremovable and fix'd he is
In his own course. [fusion !
Lear. Vengeance ! plague ! death ! con-
Fiery? what quality? why, Gloster, Gloster,
I 'd speak with the Duke of Cornwall and his
wife.
Glo. Well, my good lord, I have inform'd
them so.
Lear. Inform'd them ! Dost thou understand
me, man?
Glo. Ay, my good lord.
Lear. The king would speak with Cornwall ;
the dear father [service :
Would with his daughter speak, commands her
Are they inform'd of this? My breath and
blood ! [that-
Fiery? the fiery duke? Tell the hot duke
No, but not yet : may be he is not well :
Infirmity doth still neglect all office
Whereto our health is bound ; we are not our-
selves [mind
When nature, being oppress'd, commands the
To suffer with the body : I '11 forbear;
And am fall'n out with my more headier will
To take the indispos'd and sickly fit
For the sound man. Death on my state!
wherefore [Looking on KENT.
Should he sit here? This act persuades me
That this remotion of the duke and her
Is practice only. Give me my servant forth.
Go tell the duke and's wife I'd speak with
them,
Now, presently: bid them come forth and hear
me,
Or at their chamber door I '11 beat the drum
Till it cry Sleep to death.
Glo. I would have all well betwixt you.
[Exit.
Lear. O me, my heart, my rising heart !
but, down !
Fool. Cry to it, nuncle, as the cockney did
to the eels when she put them i' the paste
alive ; she knapped 'em o' the coxcombs with
a stick, and cried, Down^ wantons, down!
'Twas her brother that, in pure kindness to his
horse, buttered his hay.
Enter CORNWALL, REGAN, GLOSTER, and
Servants.
Lear. Good -morrow to you both.
Corn. Hail to your grace !
[KENT is set at liberty.
Reg. I am glad to see your highness.
Lear. Regan, I think you are; I know what
reason
I have to think so: if thou shouldst not be glad,
I would divorce me from thy mother's tomb,
Sepulchring an adultress. O, are you free?
[To KENT.
Some other time for that. Beloved Regan,
Thy sister 's naught : O Regan, she hath tied
Sharp-tooth'd unkindness, like a vulture,
here, - [Points to his heart.
1042
KING LEAR.
TACT n.
I can scarce speak to thee ; them 'It not believe
With how deprav'd a quality O Regan ! [hope
Reg. I pray you sir, take patience: I have
You less know how to value her desert
Than she to scant her duty.
Lear. Say, how is that?
Reg. I cannot think my sister in the least
Would fail her obligation : if, sir, perchance
She have restrain'd the riots of your followers,
'Tis on such ground, and to such wholesome end,
As clears her from all blame.
Lear. My curses on her !
Reg. O, sir, you are old j
Nature in you stands on the very verge
Of her confine : you should be rul'd and led
By some discretion, that discerns your state
Better than you yourself. Therefore, I pray you,
That to our sister you do make return ;
Say you have wrong'd her, sir.
Lea r. Ask her forgiveness ?
Do you but mark how this becomes the house :
Dear daughter \ I confess that I am old ;
{Kneeling.
Age is unnecessary : on tny knees I beg
That you ' II vouchsafe me raiment, bed, and food.
Reg. Good sir, no more ; these are unsightly
tricks :
Return you to my sister.
Lear. {Rising.] Never, Regan:
She hath abated me of half my train ;
Look'd black upon me ; struck me with her
tongue,
Most serpent-like, upon the very heart :
All the stor'd vengeances of heaven fall
On her ingrateful top ! Strike her young bones,
You taking airs, with lameness !
Corn. Fie, sir, fie !
Lear. You nimble ligntnings, dart your
blinding flames
Into her scornful eyes ! Infect her beauty,
You fen-suck'd fogs, drawn by the powerful sun,
To fall and blast her pride I
Reg. O the blest gods !
So will you wish on me when the rash mood is
on.
Lear. No, Regan, thou shalt never have my
curse:
Thy tender -hefted nature shall not give
Thee o'er to harshness : her eyes are fierce ;
but thine
Do comfort, and not burn. 'Tis not in thee
To grudge my pleasures, to cut off my train,
To bandy hasty words, to scant my sizes,
And, in conclusion, to oppose the bolt
Against my coming in : thou better know'st
The offices of nature, bond of childhood,
Effects of courtesy, dues of gratitude;
Thy half o' the kingdom hast thou not forgot,
Wherein I thee endov/'d.
Reg. Good sir, to the purpose.
Lear. Who put my man i' the stocks?
[Tucket within.
Com. What trumpet 's that ?
Reg. I know't, my sister's: this approves
her letter,
That she would soon be here.
Enter OSWALD.
Is your lady come ?
Lear. This is a slave whose easy-borrow'd
pride
Dwells in the fickle grace of her he follows.
Out, varlet, from my sight!
Corn. What means your grace ?
Lear. Who stock'd my servant ? Regan, I
have good hope [O heavens,
Thou didst not know on 't. Who comes here?
Enter GONERIL.
If you do love old men, if your sweet sway
Allow obedience, if yourselves are old, [part :
Make it your cause ; send down, and take my
Art not asham'd to look upon this beard ?
[To GONERIL.
Regan, wilt thou take her by the hand ?
Gon. Why not by the hand, sir ? How have
I offended?
All 's not offence that indiscretion finds,
And dotage terms so.
Lear. O sides, you are too tough !
Will you yet hold? How came my man i' the
stocks? [orders
Corn. I set him there, sir : but his own dis-
Deserv'd much less advancement.
Lear. You! did you?
Reg. I pray you, father, being weak, seem so.
If, till the expiration of your month,
You will return and sojourn with my sister,
Dismissing half your train, come then to me:
1 am now from home, and out of that provision
Which shall be needful for your entertainment.
Lear. Return to her, and fifty men dismiss'd?
No, rather I abjure all roofs, and choose
To wage against the enmity o' the air;
To be a comrade with the wolf and owl,
Necessity's sharp pinch ! Return with her?
Why, the hot-blooded France, that dowerless
took
Our youngest born, I could as well be brought
To knee his throne, and, squire-like, pension beg-
To keep base life a-foot. Return with her?
Persuade me rather to be slave and sumpter
To this detested groom. [ Pointing to OSWALD.
Gon. At your choice, sir.
SCENE IV.]
KING LEAR.
1043
Lear* I pr'ythee, daughter, do not make me
mad:
I will not trouble thee, my child ; farewell :
We '11 no more meet, no more see one another :
But yet thou art my flesh, my blood, my
daughter ;
Or rather a disease that 's in my flesh,
Which I must needs call mine : thou art a boil,
A plague-sore, an embossed carbuncle
In my corrupted blood. But I '11 not chide thee ;
Let shame come when it will, I do not call it :
I do not bid the thunder-bearer shoot,
Nor tell tales of thee to high-judging Jove :
Mend when thou canst ; be better at thy leisure :
I can be patient ; I can stay with Regan,
I and my hundred knights.
Reg. Not altogether so :
I look'd not for you yet, nor am provided
For your fit welcome. Give ear, sir, to my
sister ;
For those that mingle reason with your passion
Must l>e content to think you old, and so
But she knows what she does.
Lear. Is this well spoken?
Reg. I dare avouch it, sir: what, fifty
followers?
Is it not well ? What should you need of more?
Yea, or so many, sith that both charge and
danger [house
Speak 'gainst so great a number? How in one
Should many people under two commands
Hold amity? 'Tis hard; almost impossible.
Gon. Why might not you, my lord, receive
attendance [mine?
From those that she calls servants, or from
Reg. Why not, my lord? If then they
chanc'd to slack you, [me,
We could control them. If you will come to
For now I spy a danger, I entreat you
To bring but five-and-twenty : to no more
Will I give place or notice.
Lear. I gave you all,
Reg. A.nd in good time you gave it.
Lear. Made you my guardians, my deposi-
taries ;
But kept a reservation to be follow'd [you
With such a number. What, must I come to
With five-and-twenty, Regan? said you so?
Reg. And speak 't again, my lord ; no more
with me. [well-favour'd
Lear. Those wicked creatures yet do look
When others are more wicked ; not being the
worst [thee:
Stands in some rank of praise. I'll go with
[To GONERIL.
Thy fifty yet doth double five-and-twenty,
And thou art twice her love.
Gon. Hear me, my lord :
What need you five-and-twenty, ten, or five,
To follow in a house where twice so many
Have a command to tend you?
Reg. What need one?
Lear. O, reason not the need: our basest
beggars
Are in the poorest thing superfluous :
Allow not nature more than nature needs,
Man's life is cheap as beast's : thou art a lady ;
If only to go warm were gorgeous, [wear'st,
Why, nature needs not what thou gorgeous
Which scarcely keeps thee warm. But, for
true need, [need !
You heavens, give me that patience, patience I
You see me here, you gods, a poor old man,
As full of grief as age ; wretched in both !
If it be you that stir these daughters' hearts
Against their father, fool me not so much
To bear it tamely ; touch me with noble anger,
And let not women's weapons, water-drops,
Stain my man's cheeks ! No, you unnatural
hags,
I will have such revenges on you both
That all the world shall, I will do such
things, [be
What they are yet I know not ; but they shall
The terrors of the earth. You think I '11 weep ;
No, I'll not weep:
I have full cause of weeping ; but this heart
Shall break into a hundred thousand flaws
Or ere .1 '11 weep. O fool, I shall go mad !
[Exeunt LEAR, GLOSTER, KENT, and Fool.
Storm heard at a distance.
Corn. Let us withdraw ; 'twill be a storm.
Reg. This house is little : the old man and
his people
Cannot be well bestow'd. [from rest,
Gon. 'Tis his own blame ; hath put himself
And must needs taste his folly. [gladly,
Reg. For his particular, I '11 receive him
But not one follower.
Gon. So am I purpos'd.
Where is my lord of Gloster? [turn'd.
Corn. Follow'd the old man forth : he is re-
Re-enter GLOSTER.
Glo. The king is in high rage.
Corn. Whither is he going?
Glo. He calls to horse ; but will I know not
whither. [himself.
Corn. 'Tis best to give him way; he leads
Gon. My lord, entreat him by no means to
stay. [winds
Glo. Alack, the night comes on, and the high
Do sorely ruffle ; for many miles about
There 's scarce a bush.
1044
KING LEAR.
[ACT in.
Reg. O, sir, to wilful men
The injuries that they themselves procure
Must be their schoolmasters. Shut up your
doors :
He is attended with a desperate train ;
And what they may incense him to, being apt
To have his ear abus'd, wisdom bids fear.
Corn. Shut up your doors, my lord; 'tis a
wild night :
My Regan counsels well : come out o' the storm.
[Exeunt.
ACT III.
SCENE I. A Heath.
A storm, with thunder and lightning. Enter
KENT and a Gentleman, meeting.
Kent. Who's there, besides foul weather?
Gent. One minded like the weather, most
unquietly.
Kent. I know you. Where's the king?
Gent. Contending with the fretful elements;
Bids the wind blow the earth into the sea,
Or swell the curled waters 'bove the main,
That things might change or cease ; tears his
white hair,
Which the impetuous blasts, with eyeless rage,
Catch in their fury, and make nothing of;
Strives in his little world of man to out-scorn
The to-and-fro conflicting wind and rain.
This night, wherein the cub-drawn bear would
couch,
The lion and the belly-pinched wolf
Keep their fur dry, unbonneted he runs,
And bids what will take all.
Kent. But who is with him?
Gent. None but the fool; who labours to
out-jest
His heart-struck injuries.
Kent. Sir, I do know you ;
And dare, upon the warrant of my note,
Commend a dear thing to you. There is division,
Although as yet the face of it be cover'd
With mutual cunning, 'twixt Albany and Corn-
wall ; [stars
Who have, as who have not, that their great
Throne and set high? servants who seem no
less,
Which are to France the spies and speculations
Intelligent of our state ; what hath been seen,
Either in snuffs and packings of the dukes ;
Or the hard rein which both of them have borne
Against the old kind king ; or something deeper,
Whereof perchance these are but furnishings ;
But true it is, from France there comes a power
Into this scatter'd kingdom; who already,
Wise in our negligence, have secret feet
In some of our best ports, and are at point
To show their open banner. Now to you:
If on my credit you dare build so far
To make your speed to Dover, you shall find
Some that will thank you making just report
Of how unnatural and bemadding sorrow
The king hath cause to plain.
I am a gentleman of blood and breeding;
And from some knowledge and assurance offer
This office to you.
Gent. I will talk further with you.
Kent. No, do not.
For confirmation that I am much more
Than my out wall, open this purse, and take
What it contains. If you shall see Cordelia,
As fear not but you shall, show her this ring;
And she will tell you who your fellow is
That yet you do not know. Fie on this storm !
I will go seek the king. [to say?
Gent. Give me your hand : have you no more
Kent. Few words, but, to effect, more than
all yet, [your pain
That when we have found the king, in which
That way, I '11 this, he that first lights on him
Holla the other. [Exeunt severally.
SCENE II. Another part of the Heath.
Storm continues.
Enter LEAR and Fool.
Lear. Blow, winds, and crack your cheeks !
rage ! blow !
You cataracts and hurricanoes, spout
Till you have drench'd our steeples, drown'd
the cocks !
You sulphurous and thought-executing fires,
Vaunt couriers of oak-cleaving thunderbolts,
Singe my white head ! And thou, all-shaking
thunder,
Strike flat the thick rotundity o' the world !
Crack nature's moulds, all germens spill at once,
That make ingrateful man !
Fool. O nuncle, court holy water in a dry
house is better than this rain-water out o' door.
Good nuncle, in ; ask thy daughters' blessing :
here 's a night pities neither wise men nor fools.
Lear. Rumble thy bellyful! Spit, fire!
spout, rain !
Nor rain, wind, thunder, fire, are my daughters:
I tax not you, you elements, with unkindness ;
I never gave you kingdom, call'd you children;
You owe me no subscription : then let fall
Your horrible pleasure ; here I stand, your slave,
A poor, infirm, weak, and despis'd old man :
But yet I call you servile ministers,
That will with two pernicious daughters join
SCENE II.]
KING LEAK.
1045
Your high-engender'd battles 'gainst a head
So old and white as this. O ! O ! 'tis foul !
Fool. He that has a house to put 's head in
has a good head-piece.
The cod-piece that will house
Before the head has any,
The head and he shall louse ;
So beggars marry many.
The man that makes his toe
What he his heart should make
Shall of a corn cry woe,
And turn his sleep to wake.
for there was never yet fair woman but she
made mouths in a glass. [patience ;
Lear. No, I will be the pattern of all
I will say nothing.
Enter KENT.
Kent. Who's there?
Fool. Marry, here 's grace and a cod-piece ;
that 's a wise man and a fool. [love night
Kent. Alas, sir, are you here? things that
Love not such nights as these ; the wrathful skies
Gallovv the very wanderers of the dark,
And make them keep their caves: since I was
man,
Such sheets of fire, such bursts of horrid thun-
der,
Such groans of roaring wind and rain I never
Remember to have heard : man's nature cannot
carry
The affliction nor the fear.
Lear. Let the great gods,
That keep this dreadful pother o'er our heads,
Find out their enemies now. Tremble, thou
wretch,
That hast within thee undivulged crimes,
Unwhipp'd of justice: hide thee, thou bloody
hand;
Thou perjur'd, and thou simular of virtue
That art incestuous : caitiff, to pieces shake,
That under covert and convenient seeming
Hast practis'd on man's life : close pent-up
guilts,
Rive your concealing continents, and cry
These dreadful summoners grace. I am a man
More sinn'd against than sinning.
Kent. Alack, bare-headed !
Gracious my lord, hard by here is a hovel ;
Some friendship will it lend you 'gainst the
tempest :
Repose you there, while I to this hard house,
More harder than the stones whereof 'tis rais'd ;
Which even but now, demanding after you,
Denied me to come in, return, and force
Their scanted courtesy.
Lear. My wits begin to turn.
Come on, my boy: how dost, my boy? art
cold? [fellow?
I am cold myself. Where is this straw, my
The art of our necessities is strange,
That can make vile things precious. Come,
your hovel. [heart
Poor fool and knave, I have one part in my
That 's sorry yet for thee.
FooL He that has and a little tiny wit, [Singinf.
With heigh, ho, the wind and the rain,
Must make content with his, fortunes fit,
Though the rain it raineth every day.
Lear. True, boy. Come, bring us to this
hovel. [Exeunt LEAR and KENT.
Fool. This is a brave night to cool a courte-
zan.
I '11 speak a prophecy ere I go :
When priests are more in word than matter ;
When brewers mar their malt with water ;
When nobles are their tailors' tutors ;
No heretics burn'd, but wenches' suitors ;
When every case in law is right ;
No squire in debt, nor no poor knight ;
When slanders do not live in tongues ;
Nor cutpurses come not to throngs ;
When userers tell their gold i' the field;
And bawds and whores do churches build ;
Then shall the realm of Albion
Come to great confusion :
Then comes the time, who lives to see 't,
That going shall be us'd with feet.
This prophecy Merlin shall make ; for I live
before his time. [Exit.
SCENE III. A Room in GLOSTER'S Castle.
Enter GLOSTER and EDMUND.
Glo. Alack, alack, Edmund, I like not this
unnatural dealing. When I desired their leave
that I might pity him, they took from me the
use of mine own house ; charged me, on pain
of perpetual displeasure, neither to speak of
him, entreat for him, nor any way sustain him.
Edm. Most savage and unnatural !
Glo. Go to ; say you nothing. There is
division between the dukes ; and a worse mat-
ter than that: I have received a letter this
night ; 'tis dangerous to be spoken ; I have
locked the letter in my closet : these injuries
the king now bears will be revenged home ;
there is part of a power already footed : we
must incline to the king. I will seek him, and
privily relieve him : go you and maintain talk
with the duke, that my charity be not of him
perceived : if he ask for me, I am ill, and gone
to bed. If I die for it, as no less is threatened
1046
KING LEAR.
[ACT in.
me, the king my old master must be relieved.
There is strange things toward, Edmund ; pray
you, be careful. [Exit.
Edm. This courtesy, forbid thee, shall the
duke
Instantly know ; and of that letter too :
This seems a fair deserving, and must draw me
That which my father loses, no less than all :
The younger rises when the old doth fall.
{Exit.
SCENE IV. A part of the Heath with a Hovel.
Storm continues.
Enter LEAR, KENT, and Fool.
Kent. Here is the place, my lord ; good my
lord, enter :
The tyranny of the open night 's too rough
For nature to endure.
Lear. Let me alone.
Kent. Good my lord, enter here.
Lear. Wilt break my heart ?
Kent. I had rather break mine own. Good
my lord, enter. [tentious storm
Lear. Thou think'st 'tis much that this con-
Invades us to the skin : so 'tis to thee
But where the greater malady is fix'd, [bear ;
The lesser is scarce felt. Thou 'dst shun a
But if thy flight lay toward the roaring sea,
Thou 'dst meet the bear i' the mouth. When
the mind 's free
The body 's delicate : the tempest in my mind
Doth from my senses take all feeling else
Save what beats there. Filial ingratitude !
Is it not as this mouth should tear this hand
For lifting food to't? But I will punish home :
No, I will weep no more. In such a night
To shut me out ! Pour on ; I will endure :
In such a night as this ! O Regan, Goneril !
Your old kind father, whose frank heart gave
all,-
O, that way madness lies ; let me shun that ;
No more of that.
Kent. Good my lord, enter here.
Lear. Pr'ythee, go in thyself; seek thine
own ease :
This tempest will not give me leave to ponder
On things would hurt me more. But I'll go
r/firf I i n [poverty,
In, boy ; go first {to the Fool]. You houseless
Nay, get thee in. I'll pray, and then I'll
sleep. [Fool goes in.
Poor naked wretches, wheresoe'er you are,
That bide the pelting of this pitiless storm,
How shall your houseless heads and unfed sides,
Your loop'd and window'd ragged ness, defend
you
From seasons such as these? O, I have ta'en
Too little care of this ! Take physic, pomp ;
Expose thyself to feel what wretches feel,
That thou mayst shake the superflux to them,
And show the heavens more just.
Edg. {Within.} Fathom and half, fathom
and half ! Poor Tom !
[ The Fool runs out from the hovel.
Fool. Come not in here, nuncle, here's a
spirit.
Help me, help me !
Kent. Give me thy hand. Who 's there ?
Fool. A spirit, a spirit : he says his name 's
poor Tom. [i } the straw ?
Kent. What art thou that dost grumble there
Come forth.
Enter EDGAR, disguised as a madman.
Edg. Away ! the foul fiend follows me !
Through the sharp hawthorn blows the cold
wind.
Hum ! go to thy cold bed and warm thee.
Lear. Didst thou give all to thy daughters ?
And art thou come to this ?
Edg. Who gives anything to poor Tom ?
whom the foul fiend hath led through fire and
through flame, through ford and whirlpool, o'er
bog and quagmire ; that hath laid knives under
his pillow, and halters in his pew ; set ratsbane
by his porridge ; made him proud of heart, to
ride on a bay trotting-horse over four-inched
bridges, to course his own shadow for a traitor.
Bless thy five wits ! Tom 's a-cold. O, do
de, do de, do de. Bless thee from whirlwinds,
star-blasting, and taking! Do poor Tom some
charity, whom the foul fiend vexes : there
could I have him now, and there, and there,
and there again, and there.
{Storm continues.
Lear. What, have his daughters brought him
to this pass ? ['em all ?
Couldst thou save nothing ? Didst thou give
Fool. Nay, he reserved a blanket, else we
had been all shamed.
Lear. Now, all the plagues that in the pendu-
lous air [daughters !
Hang fated o'er men's faults light on thy
Kent. He hath no daughters, sir.
Lear. Death, traitor ! nothing could have
subdu'd nature
To such a lowness but his unkind daughters.
Is it the fashion that discarded fathers
Should have thus little mercy on their flesh ?
Judicious punishment ! 'twas this flesh begot
Those pelican daughters.
Edg. Pillicock sat on Pillicock-hill :
Halloo, halloo, loo loo 1
SCENE IV.]
KING LEAR.
1047
Fool. This cold night will turn us all to fools
and madmen.
Edg. Take heed o' the foul fiend : obey thy
parents ; keep thy word justly ; swear not ;
commit not with man's sworn spouse ; set not
thy sweet heart on proud array. Tom 's a-cold.
Lear. What hast thou been?
Edg. A serving-man, proud in heart and
mind ; that curled my hair ; wore gloves in my
cap ; served the lust of my mistress's heart, and
did the act of darkness V/ith her ; swore as
many oaths as I spake words, and broke them
in the sweet face of heaven : one that slept in
the contriving of hist, and waked to do it :
wine loved I deeply, dice dearly ; and in women
out-paramoured the Turk : false of heart, light
of ear, bloody of hand ; hog in sloth, fox in
stealth, wolf in greediness, dog in madness,
lion in prey. Let not the creaking of shoes nor
the rustling of silks betray thy poor heart to
woman: keep thy foot out of brothels, thy hand
out of plackets, thy pen from lenders' books,
and defy the foul fiend. Still through the
hawthorn blows the cold wind: says suum,
mun, nonny. Dolphin my boy, boy, sessa !
let him trot by. [Storm still continues.
Lear. Why, thou wert better in thy grave
than to answer with thy uncovered body this
extremity of the skies. Is man no more than
this? Consider him well. Thou owest the
worm no silk, the beast no hide, the sheep no
wool, the cat no perfume. Ha! here's three
on 's are sophisticated ! Thou art the thing
itself: unaccommodated man is no more but
such a poor, bare, forked animal as thou art.
Off, off, you leadings ! Come, unbutton here.
[ Tearing off his clothes.
Fool. Pr'ythee, nuncle, be contented; 'tis a
naughty night to swim in. Now a little fire in
a wild field were like an old lecher's heart, a
small spark, all the rest on 's body cold.
Look, here comes a walking fire.
Edg. This is the foul fiend Flibbertigibbet :
he begins at curfew, and walks till the first
cock; he gives the web and the pin, squints
the eye, and makes the hare-lip ; mildews the
white wheat, and hurts the poor creature of earth.
Swithold footed thrice the old ;
He met the nightmare and her nine-fold ;
Bid her alight,
And her troth plight,
And, aroint thee, witch, aroint thee !
Kent. How fares your grace?
Enter GLOSTER with a torch.
tear. What 'she?
Kent. Who 's there ? What is 't you seek ?
Glo. What are you there? Your names?
Edg. Poor Tom; that eats the swimming
frog, the toad, the tadpole, the wall-newt, and
the water ; that in the fury of his heart, when
the foul fiend rages, eats cow-dung for sallets ;
swallows the old rat and the ditch-dog ; drinks
the green mantle of the standing pool ; who is
whipped from tithing to tithing, and stocked,
punished, and imprisoned; who hath had three
suits to his back, six shirts to his body, horse
to ride, and weapon to wear ;
But mice and rats, and such small deer,
Have been Tom's food for seven long year.
Beware my follower. Peace, Smulkin; peace,
thou fiend ! [pany?
Glo. What, hath your grace no better com-
Edg. The prince of darkness is a gentleman :
Modo he's call'd, and Mahu. [so vile
Glo. Our flesh and blood, my lord, is grown
That it doth hate what gets :t.
Edg. Poor Tom 's a-cold.
Glo. Go in with me : my duty cannot suffer
To obey in all your daughters' hard commands :
Though their injunction be to bar my doors,
And let this tyrannous night take hold upon you,
Yet have I ventur'd to come seek you out,
And bring you where both fire and food is ready.
Lear. First let me talk with this philoso-
pher.
What is the cause of thunder ?
Kent. Good my lord, take his offer ;
Go into the house. [Theban,
Lear. I '11 talk a word with this same learned
What is your study? [vermin.
Edg. How to prevent the fiend and to kill
Lear. Let me ask you one word in private.
Kent. Importune him once more to go, my
lord;
His wits begin to unsettle.
Glo. Canst thou blame him?
His daughters seek his death : ah, that good
Kent !
He said it would be thus, poor, banish'd
man ! [friend,
Thou say'st the king grows mad ; I '11 tell thee,
I am almost mad myself: I had a son, [life
Now outlaw'd from my blood ; he sought my
But lately, very late : I lov'd him, friend,
No father his son dearer : true to tell thee,
[Storm continues.
The grief hath craz'd my wits. What a night 's
this !
I do beseech your grace,
Lear. O, cry you mercy, sir.
Noble philosopher, your company.
Edg. Tom 's a-coW. [thee warm.
Glo. In, fellow, there, into the hovel : keep
1048
KING LEAR.
[ACT m.
Lear. Come, let 's in all.
Kent. This way, my lord.
Lear. With him ;
I will keep still with my philosopher.
Kent. Good my lord, soothe him; let him
take the fellow.
Glo. Take him you on.
Kent. Sirrah, come on ; go along with us.
Lear. Come, good Athenian.
Glo. No words, no words :
Hush.
Edg. Child Rowland to the dark tower came,
His word was still, Fie, foh, and fum,
I smell the blood of a British man.
[Exeunt.
SCENE V- A Room in GLOSTER'S Castle.
Enter CORNWALL and EDMUND.
Corn. I will have my revenge ere I depart
his house.
Edm. How, my lord, I may be censured,
that nature thus gives way to loyalty, something
fears me to think of.
Corn. I now perceive, it was not altogether
your brother's evil disposition made him seek
his death; but a provoking merit, set a- work
by a reprovable badness in himself.
Edm. How malicious is my fortune, that I
must repent to be just ! This is the letter he
spoke of, which approves him an intelligent
party to the advantages of France. O heavens!
that this treason were not, or not I the de-
tector !
Corn. Go with me to the duchess.
Edm. If the matter of this paper be certain,
you have mighty business in hand.
Corn. True or false, it hath made thee earl
of Gloster. Seek out where thy father is, that
he may be ready for our apprehension.
Edm. [Aside.'] If I find him comforting the
king, it will stuff his suspicion more fully. I
will persevere in my course of loyalty, though
the conflict be sore between that and my blood.
Corn. I will lay trust upon thee ; and thou
shalt find a dearer father in my love. [Exeunt.
SCENE VI. A Chamber in a Farm-house
adjoining the Castle.
Enter GLOSTER, LEAR, KENT, Fool, and
EDGAR.
Glo. Here is better than the open air ; take
it thankfully. I will piece out the comfort with
what addition I can : I will not be long from
you.
Kent. All the power of his wits have given
way to his impatience : the gods reward your
kindness ! [Exit GLOSTER.
Edg. Frateretto calls me ; and tells me Nero
is an angler in the lake of darkness. Pray,
innocent, and beware the foul fiend.
Fool. Pr'ythee, nuncle, tell me whether a
madman be a gentleman or a yeoman ?
Lear. A king, a king !
Fool. No ; he 's a yeoman that has a gentle-
man to his son ; for he 's a mad yeoman that
sees his son a gentleman before him. [spits
Lear. To have a thousand with red burning
Come hissing in upon 'em,
Edg. The foul fiend bites my back.
Fool. He 's mad that trusts in the lameness
of a wolf, a horse's health, a boy's love, or a
whore's oath. [straight.
Lear. It shall be done ; I will arraign them
Come, sit thou here, most learned justicer;
[To EDGAR.
Thou, sapient sir, sit here [To the Fool]. Now,
you she-foxes !
Edg. Look, where he stands and glares !
Wantest thou eyes at trial, madam?
Come o'er the bourn, Bessy, to me,
Fool. Her boat hath a leak,
And she must not speak
Why she dares not come over to thee.
Edg. The foul fiend haunts poor Tom in the
voice of a nightingale. Hopdance cries in Tom's
belly for two white herring. Croak not, black
angel ; I have no food for thee. [amaz'd :
Kent. How do you, sir? Stand you not so
Will you lie down and rest upon the cushions?
Lear. I '11 see their trial first. Bring in the
evidence.
Thou robed man of justice, take thy place;
[To EDGAR.
And thou, his yoke-fellow of equity,
[To the Fool.
Bench by his side : you are o' the commission,
Sit you too. [To KENT.
Edg. Let us deal justly.
Sleepest or wakest thou, jolly shepherd?
Thy sheep be in the corn ;
And for one blast of thy minikin mouth
Thy sheep shall take no harm.
Pur ! the cat is gray.
Lear. Arraign her first ; 'tis Goneril. I here
take my oath before this honourable assembly,
she kicked the poor king her father.
Fool. Come hither, mistress. Is your name
Goneril?
Lear. She cannot deny it.
Fool. Cry you mercy, I took you for a joint-
stool.
SCENE VI.]
KING LEAR.
1049
Lear. And here 's another, whose warp'd
looks proclaim [there !
What store her heart is made on. Stop her
Arms, arms, sword, fire ! Corruption in the
place !
False justicer, why hast thou let her 'scape?
Edg. Bless thy five wits !
Kent. O pity ! Sir, where is the patience now
That you so oft have boasted to retain?
Edg. [Aside.] My tears begin to take his
part so much,
They '11 mar my counterfeiting.
Lear. The little dogs and all, [at me.
Tray, Blanch, and Sweetheart, see, they bark
Edg. Tom will throw his head at them.
A vaunt, you curs !
Be thy mouth or black or white,
Tooth that poisons if it bite ;
Mastiff, greyhound, mongrel grim,
Hound or spaniel, brach or lym,
Or bobtail tike or trundle-tail,
Tom will make them weep and wail :
For, with throwing thus my head,
Dogs leap the hatch, and all are fled.
Do de, de, de. Sessa ! Come, march to
wakes and fairs and market-towns. Poor Tom,
thy horn is dry.
Lear. Then let them anatomize Regan ; see
what breeds about her heart. Is there any
cause in nature that makes these hard hearts ?
\_To EDGAR.] You, sir, I entertain you for one
of my hundred ; only I do not like the fashion
of your garments : you will say they are Per-
sian ; but let them be changed. [awhile.
Kent. Now, good my lord, lie here and rest
Lear. Make no noise, make no noise ; draw
the curtains :
So, so. We '11 go to supper i' the morning.
Fool. And I '11 go to bed at noon.
Re-enter GLOSTER.
Glo. Come hither, friend : where is the king
my master ? [wits are gone.
Kent. Here, sir; but trouble him not, his
Glo. Good friend, I pr'ythee, take him in
thy arms ;
I have o'erheard a plot of death upon him i
There is a litter ready ; lay him in 't,
And drive toward Dover, friend, where thou
shalt meet [master :
Both welcome and protection. Take up thy
If thou shouldst dally half an hour, his life,
With thine, and all that offer to defend him,
Stand in assured loss : take up, take up ;
And follow me, that will to some provision
Give thee quick conduct.
Kent. Oppress'd nature sleeps :
This rest might yet have balm'd thy broken
sinews,
Which, if convenience will not allow,
Stand in hard cure. Come, help to bear thy
master ;
Thou must not stay behind. [To the Fool.
Glo. Come, come, away.
[Exeunt KENT, GLOSTER, and the Fool,
bearing o/ "LEAR.
Edg. When we our betters see bearing our
woes,
We scarcely think our miseries our foes.
Who alone suffers suffers most i' the mind,
Leaving free things and happy shows behind :
But then the mind much sufferance doth o'erskip
When grief hath mates and bearing fellowship.
How light and portable my pain seems now,
When that which makes me bend makes the
king bow ;
He childed as I father'd ! Tom, away !
Mark the high noises ; and thyself bewray,
When false opinion, whose wrong thought
defiles thee,
In thy just proof repeals and reconciles thee.
What will hap more to-night, safe 'scape the
king !
Lurk, lurk. [Exit.
SCENE VII. A Room in GLOSTER'S Castle.
Enter CORNWALL, REGAN, GONERIL,
EDMUND, and Servants.
Corn. Post speedily to my lord your hus-
band ; show him this letter: the army of
France is landed. Seek out the traitor Gloster.
[Exeunt some of the Servants.
Reg. Hang him instantly.
Gon. Pluck out his eyes.
Corn. Leave him to my displeasure. Ed-
mund, keep you our sister company : the re-
venges we are bound to take upon your traitor-
ous father are not fit for your beholding. Advise
the duke, where you are going, to a most
festinate preparation : we are bound to the like.
Our posts shall be swift and intelligent betwixt
us. Farewell, dear sister : farewell, my lord
of .Gloster.
Enter OSWALD.
How now ! where 's the king ? [hence :
Osw. My lord of Gloster hath convey'd him
Some five or six and thirty of his knights,
Hot questrists after him, met him at gate ;
W T ho, with some other of the lord's dependents,
Are gone with him toward Dover ; where they
boast
To have well-armed friends.
1050
KING LEAR.
[ACT in.
Corn. Get horses for your mistress.
Gon. Farewell, sweet lord and sister.
Corn. Edmund, farewell.
[Exeunt GON., EDM., and Osw.
Go seek the traitor Gloster,
Pinion him like a thief, bring him before us.
[Exeunt other Servants.
Though well we may not pass upon his life
Without the form of justice, yet our power
Shall do a courtesy to our wrath, which men
May blame, but not control. Who's there?
the traitor ?
Re-enter Servants, with GLOSTER.
Reg. Ingrateful fox ! 'tis he.
Corn. Bind fast his corky arms.
Glo. What mean your graces? Good my
friends, consider
You are my guests : do me no foul play, friends.
Corn. Bind him, I say. [Servants bind him.
Reg. Hard, hard. O filthy traitor !
Glo. Unmerciful lady as you are, I 'm none.
Corn. To this chair bind him. Villain, thou
shall find, [REGAN///*rr his beard.
Glo. By the kind gods, 'tis most ignobly done
To pluck me by the beard.
Reg. So white, and such a traitor !
Glo. Naughty lady,
These hairs which thou dost ravish from my
chin
Will quicken, and accuse thee : I am your host :
With robbers' hands my hospitable favours
You should not ruffle thus. What will you do?
Corn. Come, sir, what letters had you late
from France? [truth.
Reg. Be simple-answer'd, for we know the
Corn. And what confederacy have you with
the traitors
Late footed in the kingdom ? [lunatic king ?
Reg. To whose hands have you sent the
Speak.
Glo. I have a letter guessingly set down,
Which came from one that 's of a neutral heart,
And not from one oppos'd.
Corn. Cunning.
Reg. And false.
Corn. Where hast thou sent the king ? .
Glo. To Dover.
Reg. Wherefore to Dover ? Wast thou not
charg'd at peril,
Corn. Wherefore to Dover? Let him answer
that. [the course.
Glo. I am tied to the stake, and I must stand
Reg. Wherefore to Dover?
Glo. Because I would not see thy cruel nails
Pluck out his poor old eyes ; nor thy fierce sister
In his anointed flesh stick boarish fangs.
The sea, with such a storm as his bare head
In hell-black night endur'd, would have buoy'd
up,
And quench'd the stelled fires: yet, poor old
heart,
He holp the heavens to rain.
If wolves had at thy gate howl'd that stern
tune {the key,
Thou shouldst have said, Good porter, turn
All cruels else subscrib'd : but I shall see
The winged vengeance overtake such children.
Corn. See't shalt thou never. Fellows,
hold the chair.
Upon these eyes of thine I '11 set my foot.
[GLOSTER is held down in his chair,
-while CORNWALL plucks out one of
his eyes and sets his foot on it.
Glo. He that will think to live till he be old
Give me some help ! O cruel ! O you gods !
Reg. One side will mock another ; the other
too.
Corn. If you see vengeance,
i Serv. Hold your hand, my lord :
I have serv'd you ever since I was a child ;
But better service have I never done you
Than now to bid you hold.
Reg. How now, you dog !
i Serv. If you did wear a beard upon your
chin,
I'd shake it on this quarrel. What do you
mean?
Corn. My villain ! [Draws, and runs at him.
i Serv. Nay, then, come on, and take the
chance of anger.
[Draws. They fight. CORN, is wounded.
Reg. Give me thy sword [to another Servant].
A peasant stand up thus !
[Snatches a sword, comes behind, and stabs him.
I Serv. O, I am slain ! My lord, you have
one eye left
To see some mischief on them. O! [Dies.
Corn. Lest it see more, prevent it. Out,
vile jelly !
Where is thy lustre now?
[Tears out GLOSTER'S other eye, and
throws it on the ground.
Glo. All dark and comfortless. Where's
my son Edmund ?
Edmund, enkindle all the sparks of nature,
To quit this horrid act.
Reg. Out, treacherous villain !
Thou call'st on him that hates thee : it was he
That made the overture of thy treasons to us ;
Who is too good to pity thee.
Glo. O my follies !
Then Edgar was abus'd.
Kind gods, forgive me that, and prosper him !
SCENE VII.
KING LEAR.
1051
Reg. Go thrust him out at gates, and let him
smell [look you?
His way to Dover. How is 't, my lord? How
Corn. I have receiv'd a hurt : follow me,
lady.
Turn out that eyeless villain ; throw this slave
Upon the dunghill. Regan, I bleed apace :
Untimely comes this hurt : give me your arm.
[Exit CORNWALL, led by REGAN ; Servants
unbind GLOSTER and lead him out.
2 Serv. I '11 never care what wickedness I do
If this man come to good.
3 Serv. If she live long,
And in the end meet the old course of death,
Women will all turn monsters.
2 Serv. Let 's follow the old earl, and get
the Bedlam [ness
To lead him where he would : his roguish mad-
Allows itself to anything.
3 Serv. Go thou : I '11 fetch some flax and
whites of eggs
To apply to his bleeding face. Now, heaven
help him ! [Exeunt severally.
ACT IV.
SCENE I. The Heath.
Enter EDGAR.
Edg. Yet better thus, and known to be con-
temn'd,
Than still contemn'dand flatter'd. To be worst,
The lowest and most dejected thing of fortune,
Stands still in esperance, lives not in fear :
The lamentable change is from the best ;
The worst returns to laughter. Welcome, then,
Thou unsubstantial air that I embrace !
The wretch that thou hast blown unto the worst
Owes nothing to thy blasts. But who comes
here?
Enter GLOSTER, led by an Old Man.
My father, poorly led? World, world, O
world ! [thee,
But that thy strange mutations make us hate
Life would not yield to age.
Old Man. O, my good lord, I have been
your tenant, and your father's tenant, these
fourscore years. [gone :
Glo. Away, get thee away; good friend, be
Thy comforts can do me no good at all ;
Thee they may hurt.
Old Man. You cannot see your way. [eyes ;
Glo. I have no way, and therefore want no
I stumbled when I saw : full oft 'tis seen
Our means secure us, and our mere defects
Prove our commodities. O dear son Edgar,
The food of thy abused father's wrath !
Might I but live to see thee in my touch,
I 'd say I had eyes again !
Old Man. How now ! Who 's there ?
Edg. [Aside.] O gods! Who is 't can say,
/ am at the worst ?
I am worse than e'er I was.
Old Man. 'Tis poor mad Tom.
Edg. [Aside.] And worse I may be yet:
the worst is not
So long as we can say, This is the worst.
Old Man. Fellow, where goest ?
Glo. Is it a beggar-man ?
Old Man. Madman and beggar too.
Glo. He has some reason, else he could not
beg.
I' the last night's storm I such a fellow saw ;
Which made me think a man a worm r my son
Came then into my mind ; and yet my mind
Was then scarce friends with him: I have
heard more since.
As flies to wanton boys are we to the gods,
They kill us for their sport.
Edg. [Aside.] How should this be?
Bad is the trade that must play fool to sorrow,
Angering itself and others. Bless thee, master !
Glo. Is that the naked fellow?
Old Man. Ay, my lord.
Glo. Then, pr'ythee, get thee gone : if, for
my sake,
Thou wilt o'ertake us, hence a mile or twain.
I' the way toward Dover, do it for ancient love;
And bring some covering for this naked soul,
Which I 'II entreat to lead me.
Old Man. Alack, sir, he is mad.
Glo. 'Tis the times plague when madmen
lead the blind.
Do as I bid thee, or rather do thy pleasure;
Above the rest, be gone. [I have,
Old Man. I 'II bring him the best 'parel that
Come on 't what will. [Exit.
Glo. Sirrah, naked fellow,
Edg. Poor Tom 's a-cold. [Aside.] I can-
not daub it further.
Glo. Come hither, fellow.
Edg. [Aside.] And yet I must. Bless thy
sweet eyes, they bleed.
Glo. Know'st thou the way to Dover ?
Edg. Both stile and gate, horse-way and
footpath. Poor Tom hath been scared out of
his good wits: bless thee, good man's son, from
the foul fiend ! five fiends have been in poor
Tom at once ; of lust, as Obidicul ; Hobbidi-
dance, prince of dumbness; Mahu, of stealing ;
Modo, of murder ; Flibbertigibbet ', of mopping
and mowing, who since possesses chamber-
1052
KING LEAR.
[ACT TV.
maids and waiting-women. So, bless thee,
master I
Glo. Here, take this purse, thou whom the
heavens' plagues [wretched
Have humbled to all strokes : that I am
Makes thee the happier; heavens, deal so still !
Let the superfluous and lust-dieted man,
That slaves your ordinance, that will not see
Because he doth not feel, feel your power
quickly;
So distribution should undo excess, [Dover ?
And each man have enough. Dost thou know
Edg. Ay, master. [head
Glo. There is a cliff whose high and bending
Looks fearfully in the confined deep :
Bring me but to the very brim of it,
And I '11 repair the misery thou dost bear
With something rich about me: from that place
I shall no leading need.
Edg. Give me thy arm :
Poor Tom shall lead thee. [Exeunt.
SCENE II. Before the DUKE OF ALBANY'S
Palace.
Enter GONERIL and EDMUND ; OSWALD
meeting them.
Gon. Welcome, my lord : I marvel our mild
husband [master ?
Not met us on the way. Now, where 's your
Osiv. Madam, within; but never man so
chang'd.
I told him of the army that was landed ;
He smil'd at it : I told him you were coming ;
His answer was, The worse: of Gloster's
treachery,
And of the loyal service of his son,
When I inform'd him, then he call'd me sot,
And told me I had turn'd the wrong side out :
What most he should dislike seems pleasant to
him ;
What like offensive.
Gon. Then shall you go no further.
[To EDMUND.
It is the cowish terror of his spirit,
That dares not undertake: he '11 not feel wrongs,
Which tie him to an answer. Our wishes on
the way [brother ;
May prove effects. Back, Edmund, to my
Hasten his musters and conduct his powers :
I must change arms at home, and give the distaff
Into my husband's hands. This trusty servant
Shall pass between us: ere long you are like to
hear,
If you dare venture in your own behalf,
A mistress's command. Wear this; spare
speech; [Giving a favour.
Decline your head : this kiss, if it durst speak,
Would stretch thy spirits up into the air :
Conceive, and fare thee well.
Edm. Yours in the ranks of death.
Gon. My most dear Gloster.
[Exit EDMUND.
O, the difference of man and man !
To thee a woman's services are due :
My fool usurps my body.
Osw. Madam, here comes my lord.
[Exit.
Enter ALBANY.
Gon. I have been worth the whistle.
Alb. O Goneril !
You are not worth the dust which the rude wind
Blows in your face. I fear your disposition :
That nature which contemns its origin
Cannot be border'd certain in itself ;
She that herself will sliver and disbranch
From her material sap, perforce must wither
And come to deadly use.
Gon. No more ; the text is foolish.
Alb. Wisdom and goodness to the vile seem
vile : [done ?
Filths savour but themselves. What have you
Tige' s, not daughters, what have you perform'd?
A father, and a gracious aged man,
Whose reverence the head-lugg'd bear would
lick, [madded.
Most barbarous, most degenerate ! have you
Could my good brother suffer you to do it?
A man, a prince, by him so benefited !
If that the heavens do not their visible spirits
Send quickly down to tame these vile offences,
It will come,
Humanity must perforce prey on itself,
Like monsters of the deep.
Gon. Milk-liver'd man !
That bear'st a cheek for blows, a head for
wrongs ;
Who hast not in thy brows an eye discerning
Thine honour from thy suffering ; that not
know'st
Fools do those villains pity who are punish'd
Ere they have done their mischief. Where ; s
thy drum ?
France spreads his banners in our noiseless land ;
With plumed helm thy slayer begins threats ;
Whiles thou, a moral fool, sitt'st still, and criest,
Alack, why does he so ?
Alb. See thyself, devil !
Proper deformity seems not in the fiend
So horrid as in woman.
Gon. O vain fool !
Alb. Thou changed and self-cover'd thing,
for shame,
SCENE III.]
KING LEAR.
1053
Be-monster not thy feature. Were 't my fitness
To let these hands obey my blood.
They are apt enough to dislocate and tear
Thy flesh and bones : howe'er thou art a fiend,
A woman's shape doth shield thee,
Gon. Marry, your manhood now !
Enter a Messenger.
Alb. What news ? [wall 's dead ;
Mess. O, my good lord, the Duke of Corn-
Slain by his servant, going to put out
The other eye of Gloster.
Alb. Gloster's eyes !
Mess. A servant that he bred, thrill'd with
remorse,
Oppos'd against the act, bending his sword
To his great master ; who, thereat enrag'd,
Flew on him, and amongst them fell'd him
dead ; [since
But not without that harmful stroke which
Hath pluck'd him after.
Alb. This shows you are above,
You justicers, that these our nether crimes
So speedily can venge ! But, O poor Gloster !
Lost he his other eye ?
Mess. Both, both, my lord.
This letter, madam, craves a speedy answer ;
'Tis from your sister.
Gon. [Aside.'] One way I like this well ;
But being widow, and my Gloster with her,
May all the building in my fancy pluck
Upon my hateful life : another way
The news is not so tart. I '11 read, and
answer. [Exit.
Alb. Where was his son when they did take
his eyes?
Mess. Come with my lady hither.
Alb. He is not here.
Mess. No, my good lord ; I met him back
again.
Alb. Knows he the wickedness ?
Mess. Ay, my good lord ; 'twas he inform'd
against him ; [punishment
And quit the house on purpose that their
Might have the freer course.
Alb. Gloster, I live
To thank thee for the love thou show'dst the
king, [friend :
And to revenge thine eyes. Come hither,
Tell me what more thou knowest. [Exeunt.
SCENE III. The French Camp near Dover.
Enter KENT and a Gentleman.
Kent. Why the King of France is so sud-
denly gone back know you the reason ?
Gent. Something he left imperfect in the
state, which since his coming forth is thought
of; which imports to the kingdom so much
fear and danger that his personal return was
most required and necessary.
Kent. Who hath he left behind him general?
Gent. The Mareschal of France, Monsieur la
Far.
Kent. Did your letters pierce the queen to
any demonstration of grief? [my presence ;
Gent. Ay, sir ; she took them, read them in
And now and then an ample tear trill'd down
Her delicate cheek : it seem'd she was a queen
Over her passion ; who, most rebel-like,
Sought to be king o'er her.
Kent. O, then it mov'd her.
Gent. Not to a rage : patience and sorrow
strove [seen
Who should express her goodliest. You have
Sunshine and rain at once : her smiles and tears
Were like a better day : those happy smilets
That play'd on her ripe lip seem'd not to know
What guests were in her eyes ; which parted
thence [sorrow
As pearls from diamonds dropp'd. In brief,
Would be a rarity most belov'd if all
Could so become it.
Kent. Made she no verbal question ?
Gent. Faith, once or twice she heav'd the
name of father
Pantingly forth, as if it press'd her heart ;
Cried, Sisters! sisters! Shame of ladies!
sisters ! \f the night ?
Kent! father! sisters! What, t the storm?
Let pity not be belierfd! There she shook
The holy water from her heavenly eyes,
And clamour moisten'd : then away she started
To deal with grief alone.
Kent. It is the stars,
The stars above us, govern our conditions ;
Else one self mate and mate could not beget
Such different issues. You spoke not with her
since ?
Gent. No.
Kent. Was this before the king return'd?
Gent. No, since.
Kent. Well, sir, the poor distressed Lear 's
i' the town ;
Who sometime, in his better tune, remembers
What we are come about, and by no means
Will yield to see his daughter.
Gent. Why, good sir ?
Kent. A sovereign shame so elbows him : his
own unkindness, [her
That stripp'd her from his benediction, turn'd
To foreign casualties, gave her dear rights
To his dog-hearted daughters, these things
sting
1054
KING LEAR.
[ACT iv.
His mind so venomously that burning shame
Detains him from Cordelia.
Gent. Alack, poor gentleman !
Kent. Of Albany's and Cornwall's powers
you heard not?
Gent. 'Tis so they are a-foot.
Kent. Well, sir, I '11 bring you to our master
Lear,
And leave you to attend him : some dear cause
Will in concealment wrap me up awhile ;
When I am known aright, you shall not grieve
Lending me this acquaintance. I pray you,
go
Along with me. [Exeunt.
SCENE IV. The French Camp. A Tent,
Enter CORDELIA, Physician, and Soldiers.
Cor. Alack, 'tis he : why, he was met even
now
As mad as the vex'd sea; singing aloud ;
Crown'd with rank fumiter and furrow weeds,
With harlocks, hemlock, nettles, cuckoo-flowers,
Darnel, and all the idle weeds that grow
In our sustaining corn. A century send forth ;
Search every acre in the high-grown field,
And bring him to our eye. [Exit an Officer.]
What can man's wisdom
In the restoring his bereaved sense ?
He that helps him take all my outward worth.
Phys. There is means, madam :
Our foster-nurse of nature is repose,
The which he lacks ; that to provoke in him
Are many simples operative, whose power
Will close the eye of anguish.
Cor. All bless'd secrets,
All you unpublish'd virtues of the earth,
Spring with my tears ! be aidant and remediate
In the good man's distress ! Seek, seek for
him ;
Lest his ungovern'd rage dissolve the life
That wants the means to lead it.
Enter a Messenger.
Mess. News, madam ;
The British powers are marching hitherward.
Cor. 'Tis known before; our preparation
stands
In expectation of them. O dear father,
It is thy business that I go about ;
Therefore great France
My mourning and important tears hath pitied.
No blown ambition doth our arms incite,
But love, dear love, and our ag'd father's
right:
Soon may I hear and see him ! [Exeunt.
SCENE V. A Room in GLOSTER'S Castle.
Enter REGAN and OSWALD.
Reg. But are my brother's powers set forth ?
Osw. Ay, madam.
Reg. Himself in person there ?
Osw. Madam, with much ado ;
Your sister is the better soldier. [at home ?
Reg. Lord Edmund spake not with your lord
O*w. No, madam. [him ?
Reg. What might import my sister's letter to
Osw. I know not, lady. [matter.
Reg. Faith, he is posted hence on serious
It was great ignorance, Gloster's eyes being out,
To let him live : where he arrives he moves
All hearts against us : Edmund, I think, is gone,
In pity of his misery, to despatch
His nighted life ; moreover, to descry
The strength o' the enemy.
Osw. I must needs after him, madam, with
my letter. [with us ;
Reg. Our troops set forth to-morrow ; stay
The ways are dangerous.
Osw. I may not, madam :
My lady charg'd my duty in this business.
Reg. Why should she write to Edmund?
Might not you
Transport her purposes by word ? Belike
Something, I know not what : I '11 love thee
much
Let me unseal the letter.
Osw. Madam, I had rather,
Reg. I know your lady does not love her
husband ;
I am sure of that : and at her late being here
She gave strange eyeliads and most speaking
looks [bosom.
To noble Edmund. I know you are of her
Osw. I, madam ? [know 't :
Reg. I speak in understanding; you are, I
Therefore I do advise you, take this note :
My lord is dead ; Edmund and I have talk'd ;
And more convenient is he for my hand
Than for your lady's. You may gather more.
If you do find him, pray you, give him this ;
And when your mistress hears thus much from
you,
I pray, desire her call her wisdom to her.
So, fare you well.
If you do chance to hear of that blind traitor,
Preferment falls on him that cuts him off.
Osw. Would I could meet him, madam ! I
should show
What party I do follow.
Reg. Fare thee well.
[Exeunt.
SCENE VI. J
KING LEAK.
J055
SCENE VI. The Country near Dwtr.
Enter GLOSTER, and EDGAR dressed like a
peasant.
Glo. When shall I come to the top of that
same hill ? [labour.
Edg. You do climb up it now : look, how we
Glo. Methinks the ground is even.
Edg. Horrible steep.
Hark, do you hear the sea?
Glo. No, truly.
Edg. Why, then, your other sense., grow
imperfect
By your eyes' anguish.
Glo. So may it be indeed :
Methinks thy voice is alter'd ; and thou speak'st
In better phrase and matter than thou didst.
Edg. You are much deceiv'd : in nothing
am I chang' d
But in my garments,
Glo. Methinks you're better spoken.
Edg, Come on, sir; here'? the place:
stand still. How fearful
And dizzy 'tis to cast one's eyes so low ! [air
The crows and choughs that wing the midway
Show scarce so gross as beetles : half way down
Hangs one that gathers samphire, dreadful
trade !
Methinks he seems no bigger than his head :
The fishermen that walk upon the beach
Appear like mice ; and yond tall anchoring bark
Diminish'd to her cock ; her cock a buoy
Aimost too small for sight : the murmuring
surge,
That on the unnumber'd idle pebbles chafes,
Cannot be heard so high. I '11 look no more ; |
Lest my brain turn, and the deficient sight
Topple down headlong.
Glo. Set me where you stand.
Edg. Give me your hand : you are now
within a foot [moon
Of the extreme verge: for all beneath the
Would I not leap upright.
Glo. Let go my hand.
Here, friend, 's another purse ; in it a jewel
Well worth a poor man's taking : fairies and
gods
Prosper it with thee ! Go thou further off;
Bid me farewell, and let me hear thee going.
Edg. Now, fare you well, good sir.
[Seems to go.
Glo. With all my heart.
Edg. Why I do trifle thus with his despair
Is done to cure it.
Glo. O you mighty gods !
This world I do renounce, and in your sights
Shake patiently my great affliction off :
If I could bear it longer, and not fall
To quarrel with your great opposeless wills,
My snuff and loathed part of nature should
Burn itself out. If Edgar live, O bless him !
Now, fellow, fare thee well.
Edg. Gone, sir : farewell,
[GLOSTER leaps, and falls along.
And yet I know not how conceit may rob
The treasury of life, when life itself [thought,
Yields to the theft: had he been where he
By this had thought been past. Alive or dead ?
Ho, you sir 1 friend ! Hear you, sir ! speak !
Thus might he pass indeed: yet he revives.
What are you, sir ?
Glo. Away, and let me die.
Edg. Hadst thou been aught but gossamer,
feathers, air,
So many fathom down precipitating,
Thou'dst shiver'd like an egg : but thou dost
breathe ; [art sound.
Hast heavy substance ; bleed'st not ; speak'st;
Ten masts at each malice not the altitude
Which thou hast perpendicularly fell :
Thy life 's a miracle. Speak yet again.
Glo. But have I fall'n, or no ? [bourn.
Edg. From the dread summit of this chalky
Look up a-height ; the shrill-gorg'd lark so fai
Cannot be seen or heard : do but look up.
Glo. Alack, I have no eyes.
Is wretchedness depriv'd that benefit, [fort,
To end itself by death? 'Twas yet some com-
When misery could beguile the tyrant's rage
And frustrate his proud will.
Edg. Give me your arm :
Up: so. How is't? Feel you your legs?
You stand.
Glo. Too well, too well.
Edg. This is above all strangeness.
Upon the crown o' th cliff what thing was that
Which parted from you ?
Glo. A poor unfortunate beggar.
Edg. As I stood here below, methought his
eyes
Were two lull moons ; he had a thousand noses,
Horns whelk'd and wav'd like the enridged sea :
It was some fiend ; therefore, thou happy father,
Think that the clearest gods, who make them
honours
Of men's impossibilities, have preserv'd thee.
Glo. I do remember now : henceforth I '11 bear
Affliction till it do cry out itself, [speak of,
Enough, enough, and die. That thing you
I took it for a man ; often 'twould say,
The fiend, the fiend: he led me to that place.
Edg. Bear free and patient thoughts. 'But
who comes here ?
1056
KING LEAR.
[ACT IV.
Enter LEAK, fantastically dressed up with
flowers.
The safer sense will ne'er accommodate
His master thus.
Lear. No, they cannot touch me for coin-
ing ; I am the king himself.
Edg. O thou side-piercing sight !
Lear. Nature 's above art in that respect.
There 's your press-money. That fellow handles
his bow like a crow-keeper : draw me a
clothier's yard. Look, look, a mouse ! Peace,
peace ; this piece of toasted cheese will do 't.
There 's my gauntlet ; I '11 prove it on a
giant. Bring up the brown bills. O, well
flown, bird ! i' the clout, i' the clout : hewgh !
Give the word.
Edg. Sweet marjoram.
Lear. Pass.
Glo. I know that voice.
Lear. Ha ! Goneril, with a white beard !
They flattered me like a dog ; and told me I
had white hairs in my beard ere the black ones
were there. To say ay and no to everything I
said ! Ay and no, too, was no good divinity.
When the rain came to wet me once, and the
wind to make me chatter ; when the thunder
would not peace at my bidding ; there I found
'em, there I smelt 'em out. Go to, they are
not men o' their words : they told me I was
everything ; 'tis a lie, I am not ague-proof.
Glo. The trick of that voice I do well re-
member :
Is 't not the king ?
Lear. Ay, every inch a king :
When I do stare, see how the subject quakes.
I pardon that man's life. What was thy
cause ?
Adultery ?
Thou shalt not die : die for adultery ! No :
The wren goes to 't, and the small gilded fly
Does lecher in my sight.
Let copulation thrive ; for Gloster's bastard son
Was kinder to his father than my daughters
Got 'tween the lawful sheets.
To't, luxury, pell-mell, for I lack soldiers.
Behold yond simpering dame,
Whose face between her forks presages snow ;
That minces virtue, and does shake ihe head
To hear of pleasure's name ;
The fitchew nor the soiled horse goes to 't
With a more riotous appetite.
Down from the waist they are centaurs,
Though women all above :
But to the girdle do the gods inherit,
Beneath is all the fiends' ; there 's hell, there ^
darkness,
There is the sulphurous pit, burning, scalding,
stench, consumption ; fie, fie, fie ! pah, pah !
Give me an ounce of civet, good apothecary,
to sweeten my imagination : there 's money for
thee.
Glo. O, let me kiss that hand ! [tality.
Lear. Let me wipe it first ; it smells of mor-
Glo. O ruin'd piece of nature ! This great
world [me ?
Shall so wear out to naught. Dost thou know
Lear. I remember thine eyes well enough.
Dost thou squiny at me ? No, do thy worst,
blind Cupid; I'll not love. Read thou this
challenge ; mark but the penning of it. [one.
Glo. Were all the letters suns, I could not see
Edg. I would not take this from report ;
it is,
And my heart breaks at it.
Lear. Read.
Glo. What, with the case of eyes ?
Lear. O, ho, are you there with me ? No
eyes in your head nor no money in your purse ?
Your eyes are in a heavy case, your purse in a
light : yet you see how this world goes.
Glo. I see it feelingly.
Lear. What, art mad ? A man may see how
this world goes with no eyes. Look with thine
ears : see how yond justice rails upon yond
simple thief. Hark, in thine ear: change
places ; and, handy-dandy, which is the justice,
which is the thief? Thou hast seen a farmer's
dog bark at a beggar ?
Glo. Ay, sir.
Lear. And the creature run from the cur?
There thou mightst behold the great image of
authority : a dog 's obeyed in office.
Thou rascal beadle, hold thy bloody hand !
Why dost thou lash that whore ? Strip thine
own back ;
Thou hotly lust'st to use her in that kind
For which thou whipp'st her. The usurer
hangs the cozener.
Through tatter'd clothes small vices do appear ;
Robes and furr'd gowns hide all. Plate sin
with gold,
And the strong lance of justice hurtless breaks ;
Arm it in rags, a pigmy's straw doth pierce it.
None does offend, none, I say, none; I'll
able 'em :
Take that of me, my friend, who have the power
To seal the accuser's lips. Get thee glass eyes ;
And, like a scurvy politician, seem [now, now:
To see the things thou dost not. Now, now,
Pull oft my boots : harder, harder : so.
Edg. O, matter and impertinency mix'd !
Reason in madness I [my eyes.
Lear. If thou wilt weep my fortunes, take
SCENE VI.]
KING LEAR.
1057
I know thee well enough ; thy name is Gloster :
Thou must be patient ; we came crying hither :
Thou know'st, the first time tliat we smell the
air
We waw! and cry. I will preach to thee : mark.
Glo. Alack, alack the day !
Lear. When we are born, we cry that we
are come [block :
To this great stage of fools This' a good
It were a delicate stratagem to shoe
A troop of horse with felt : I '11 put 't in proof;
And when I have stol'n upon these sons-in-law,
Then kill, kill, kill, kill, kill, kill !
Enter a Gentleman, with Attendants.
Gent. O, here he is : lay hand upon him. Sir,
Your most dear daughter, [even
Lear. No rescue? What, a prisoner? lam
The natural fool of fortune. Use me well ;
You shall have ransom. Let me have surgeons ;
I am cut to the brains.
Gent. You shall have anything.
Lear. No seconds ? all myself?
Why, this would make a man a man of salt,
To use his eyes for garden water-pots,
Ay, and for laying Autumn's dusL
Gent. Good sir,
Lear. I will die bravely, like a smug bride-
groom. What I
I will be jovial : come, come ; I am a king,
My masters, know you that.
Gent. You are a royal one, and we obey you.
Lear. Then there 's life in 3 U Nay, an you
get it, you shall get it by running. Sa, sa, sa,
sa. [Exit running ; Attendants follow.
Gent. A sight most pitiful in the meanest
wretch, [daughter,
Past speaking of in a king ! Thou hast one
Who redeems nature from the general curse
Which twain have brought her to.
Edg. Hail, gentle sir.
Gent. Sir, speed you : what 's your will ?
Edg. Do you hear aught, sir, of a battle
toward ? [that
Gent. Most sure and vulgar : every one hears
Which can distinguish sound.
Edg. But> by your favour,
How near 's the other army ? [descry
Gent. Near and on speedy ioot ; the main
Stands on the hourly thought.
Edg. I thank you, sir : that's all.
Gent. Though that the queen on special
cause is here,
Her army is mov'd on.
Edg. I thank you, sir. [Exit Gent.
Glo. You ever-gentle gods, take my breath
from me :
Let not my worser spirit tempt me again
To die before you please !
Edg. Well pray you, father.
Glo. Now, good sir, what are you ?
Edg. A most poor man, made tame by
fortune's blows ;
Who, by the art of known and feeling sorrows,
Am pregnant to good pity. Give me your hand,
I ; 11 lead you to some biding.
Glo. Hearty thanks :
The bounty and the benison of heaven
To boot, and boot i
Enter OSWALD.
Osw. A proclaim'd prize ! Most happy !
That eyeless head of thine -vas first fram'd flesh
To raise my fortunes. Thou old unhappy
traitor,
Briefly thyself remember : the sword is out
That must destroy thee.
Glo. Now let thy friendly hand
Put strength enough to it. [EDGAR interposes.
Osw. Wherefore, bold peasant,
Dar'st thou support a publish'd traitor ? Hence j
Lest that the infection of his fortune take
Like hold on thee. Let go his arm. ['casion.
Edg. Chill not let go, zir, without vurther
Osw. Let go, slave, or thou diest !
Edg. Good gentleman, go your gait, and let
poor volk pass. And chud ha' been zwaggered
out of my life, 'twould not ha' been zo long as
'tis by a vortnight. Nay, come not near the
old man; keep out, che vor ye, or ise try
whether your costard or my bat be the harder :
chill be plain with you.
Osw. Out, dunghill !
Edg. Chill pick your teeth, zir : come ; no
matter vor your foins.
[ They fight, and EDGAR knocks him down.
Osw. Slave, thou hast slain me : villain,
take my purse :
If ever thou wilt thrive, bury my body ; [me
And give the letters which thou find'st about
To Edmund Earl of Gloster ; seek him out
Upon the British party : O, untimely death !
[Dies.
Edg. I know thee well : a serviceable villain ;
As duteous to the vices of thy mistress
As badness would desire,
Glo. What, is he dead?
Edg. Sit you down, father ; rest you.
Let's see these pockets: the letters that he
speaks of [sorry
May be -ny friends. He's dead; I am only
He had no other death's-man. Let us see :
Leave, gentle wax; and, manners, blame us
not:
21
1058
KING LEAR.
[ACT IV.
To know our enemies' minds we'd rip their
hearts ;
Their papers is more lawful.
[Reads.] Let our reciprocal vows be remem-
bered. You have many opportunities to cut him
off: if your will want not, time and place will
be fruitfully offered. There is nothing done if
he return the conqueror: then am I the prisoner,
and his bed my gaol ; from the loathed warmth
whereof deliver me } and supply the place for
your labour.
Your (wife, so I would say) affectionate ser-
vant, GONERIL.
O undistinguish'd space of woman's will !
A plot upon her virtuous husband's life ;
And the exchange my brother ! Here, in the
sands,
Thee I '11 rake up, the post unsanctified
Of murderous lechers : and in the mature time
With this ungracious paper strike the sight
Of the death-practis'd duke : for him 'tis well
That of thy death and business I can tell.
[Exit EDGAR, dragging out the body.
Glo. The king is mad: how stiff is my vile sense,
That I stand up, and have ingenious feeling
Of my huge sorrows ! Better I were distract :
So should my thoughts be sever'd from my griefs,
And woes by wrong imaginations lose
The knowledge of themselves.
Re-enter EDGAR.
Edg. Give me your hand :
[Drum afar off.
Far off, methinks, I hear the beaten drum :
Come, father, I '11 bestow you with a friend.
[Exeunt.
SCENE VII. A Tent in the French Camp.
LEAR on a bed asleep, soft music playing ;
Physician, Gentleman, and others attending.
Enter CORDELIA and KENT.
Cor. O thou good Kent, how shall I live
and work [too short,
To match thy goodness? My life will be
And every measure fail me. [paid.
Kent. To be acknowledg'd, madam, is o'er-
All my reports go with the modest truth ;
Nor more nor clipp'd, but so.
Cor. Be better suited :
These weeds are memories of those worser hours:
I pr'ythee, put them off.
Kent. Pardon, dear madam ;
Yet to be known shortens my made intent :
My boon I make it that you know me not
Till time and I think meet.
Cor. Then be't so, my good lord. How
does the king ? [ To the Physician.
Phys. Madam, sleeps still.
Cor. O you kind gods,
Cure this great breach in his abused nature !
The untun d and jarring senses, O, wind up
Of this child-changed father !
Phys. So please your majesty
That we may wake the king: he hath slept
long. [proceed
Cor. Be govern'd by your knowledge, and
I' the sway of your own will. Is he array'd ?
Gent. Ay, madam ; in the heaviness of sleep
We put fresh garments on him. [him ;
Phys. Be by, good madam, when we do awake
I doubt not of his temperance.
Cor. Very well.
Phys. Please you, draw near. Louder the
music there!
Cor. O my dear father ! Restoration hang
Thy medicine on my lips ; and let this kiss
Repair those violent harms that my two sisters
Have in thy reverence made !
Kent. Kind and dear princess !
Cor. Had you not been their father, these
white flakes
Had challeng'd pity of them. Was this a face
To be oppos'd against the warring winds?
To stand against the deep dread bolted thunder?
In the most terrible and nimble stroke
Of quick, cross lightning? to watch, poor
perdu !
With this thin helm ? Mine enemy's dog,
Though he had bit me, should have stood that
night [father,
Against my fire; and wast thou fain, poor
To hovel thee with swine and rogues forlorn,
In short and musty straw ? Alack, alack !
'Tis wonder that thy life and wits at once [him.
Had not concluded all. He wakes ; speak to
Phys. Madam, do you ; 'tis fittest.
Cor. How does my royal lord? How fares
your majesty ? [the grave :
Lear. You do me wrong to take me out o'
Thou art a soul in bliss ; but I am bound
Upon a wheel of fire, that mine own tears
Do scald like molten lead.
Cor. Sir, do you know me ?
Lear. You are a spirit, I know : when did
you die ?
Cor. Still, still far wide ! [awhile.
Phys. He 's scarce awake : let him alone
Lear. Where have I been ? Where am I ?
Fair daylight ? [pity
I am mightily abus'd. I should e'en die with
To see another thus. I know not what to say.
I will not swear these are my hands : let 's see ;
SCENE VII.
KING LEAR.
1059
I feel this pin prick. Would I were assur'd
Of my condition !
Cor. O, look upon me, sir,
And hold your hands in benediction o'er me.
No, sir, you must not kneel.
Lear. Pray, do not mock me :
I am a very foolish fond old man, [less ;
Fourscore and upward, not an hour more nor
And, to deal plainly,
I fear I am not in my perfect mind. [man ;
Methinks I should know you, and know this
Yet I am doubtful : for I am mainly ignorant
What place this is ; and all the skill I have
Remembers not these garments; nor I know
not
Where I did lodge last night. Do not laugh
at me ;
For, as I am a man, I think this lady
To be my child Cordelia.
Cor. And so I am, I am.
Lear. Be your tears wet? yes, faith. I
pray, weep not :
If you have poison for me I will drink it.
I know you do not love me ; for your sisters
Have, as I do remember, done me wrong :
You have some cause, they have not.
Cor. No cause, no cause.
Lear. Am I in France?
Kent. In your own kingdom, sir.
Lear. Do not abuse me.
Phys. Be comforted, good madam : the great
rage,
You see, is kill'd in him : and yet it is danger
To make him even o'er the time he has lost.
Desire him to go in ; trouble him no more
Till further settling.
Cor. Will 't please your highness walk ?
Leaf. You must bear with me :
Pray you now, forget and forgive: I am old
and foolish.
[Exeunt LEAR, COR., Phys., and Attendants.
Gent. Holds it true, sir, that the Duke of
Cornwall was so slain ?
Kent. Most certain, sir.
Gent. Who is conductor of his people?
Kent. As 'tis said, the bastard son of Gloster.
Gent. They say Edgar, his banished son, is
with the Earl of Kent in Germany.
Kent. Report is changeable. 'Tis time to
look about ; the powers of the kingdom
approach apace.
Gent. The arbitrement is like to be bloody.
Fare you well, sir. [Exit.
Kent. My point and period will be throughly
wrought,
Or well or ill, as this day's battle's fought.
{Exit.
ACT V.
SCENE I. Th* Camp of the British Forces
near Dover.
Enter, with drum and colours, EDMUND,
REGAN, Officers, Soldiers, and others.
Edm. Know of the duke if his last purpose
hold,
Or whether since he is advis'd by aught
To change the course : he 's full of alteration
Andself-reproving: bringhis constant pleasure.
[ To an Officer, who goes out.
Reg. Our sister's man is certainly miscarried.
Edm. 'Tis to be doubted, madam.
Reg. Now, sweet lord,
You know the goodness I intend upon you:
Tell me, but truly, but then speak the truth,
Do you not love my sister ?
Edm. In honour'd love.
Reg. But have you never found my brothers
way
To the forefended place ?
Edm. That thought abuses you.
Reg. I am doubtful that you have been
conjunct
And bosom'd with her, as far as we call hers.
Edm. No, by mine honour, madam.
Reg. I never shall endure her: dear my lord,
Be not familiar with her.
Edm. Fear me not :
She and the duke her husband!
Enter, with drum and colours, ALBANY,
GONERIL, and Soldiers.
Gon. [Aside.'] I had rather lose the battle
than that sister
Should loosen him and me.
Alb. Our very loving sister, well be-met.
Sir, this I heard, the king is come to his
daughter,
With others whom the rigour of our state
Forc'd to cry out. Where I could not be honest
I never yet was valiant : for this business,
It toucheth us, as France invades our land,
Not bolds the king, with others whom, I fear,
Most just and heavy causes make oppose.
Edm. Sir, you speak nobly.
Reg. Why is this reason'd ?
Gon. Combine together 'gainst the enemy ;
For these domestic and particular broils
Are not the question here.
Alb. Let's, then, determine
With the ancient of war on our proceeding.
Edm. I shall attend you presently at your tent
Reg. Sister, you '11 go with us ?
io6o
KING LEAR.
[ACT v.
Gon. No.
Reg* 'Tis most convenient ; pray you, go
with us. [will go.
Gon. [Aside, 1 O, ho, I know the riddle. I
As they are going- out, enter EDGAR, disguised.
Edg. If e'er your grace had speech with man
so poor,
Hear me one word.
Alb. I '11 overtake you. Speak.
[Exeunt EDM., REG., GON., Officers,
Soldiers, and Attendants.
Edg. Before you fight the battle, ope this
letter.
If you have victory, let the trumpet sound
For him that brought it: wretched though I
seem,
I can produce a champion that will prove
What is avouched there. If you miscarry,
Your business of the world hath so an end,
And machination ceases. Fortune 1 jve you !
Alb. Stay till I have read the letter.
Edg. I was forbid it.
When time shall serve, let but the herald cry,
And I '11 appear again.
Alb. Why, fare thee well: I will o'erlook
thy paper. [Exit EDGAR.
Re-enter EDMUND.
Edm. The enemy 's in view ; draw up your
powers.
Here is the guess of their true strength and
forces
By diligent discovery ; but your haste
Is now urg'd on you.
Alb. We will greet the time. [Exit.
Edm. To both these sisters have I sworn
my love ;
Each jealous of the other, as the stung
Are of the adder. Which of them shall I
take?
Both? one? or neither? Neither can be enjoy 'd
If both remain alive : to take the widow
Exasperates, makes mad her sister Goneril ;
And hardly shall I carry out my side,
Her husband being alive. Now, then, we '11
use
His countenance for the battle; which being
done,
Let her who would be rid of him devise
His speedy taking oft As for the mercy
Which he intends to Lear and to Cordelia,
The battle done, and they within our power,
Shall never see his pardon: for my state
Stands on me to defend, not to debate. [Exit.
SCENE II. A Field between the two Camt>s.
Alarum within. Enter, with drum and
colours , LEAR, CORDELIA, and their Forces ;
and exeunt.
Enter EDGAR and GLOSTER.
Edg. Here, father, take the shadow of this
tree [thrive:
For your good host ; pray that the right may
If ever I return to you again
I '11 bring you comfort.
Glo. Grace go with you, sir !
[Exit EDGAR.
Alarum and Retreat within. Re-enter EDGAR.
Edg. Away, old man, give me thy hand,
away ! [ta'en :
King Lear hath lost, he and his daughter
Give me thy hand ; come on.
Glo. No further, sir ; a man may rot even
here. [endure
Edg. What, in ill thoughts again? Men must
Their going hence, even as their coming hither:
Ripeness is all : come on.
Glo. And that 's true too.
[Exeunt*
SCENE III. The British Camp near Dover.
Enter, in conquest, with drum and colours,
EDMUND ; LEAR and CORDELIA prisoners',
Officers, Soldiers, SrV.
Edm. Some officers take them away: good
guard,
Until their greater pleasures first be known
That are to censure them.
Cor. We are not the first
Who, with best meaning, have incurr'd the
worst.
For thee, oppressed king, am I cast down ;
Myself could else out-frown false fortune's
frown. [sisters?
Shall we not see these daughters and these
Lear. No, no, no, no ! Come, let 's away
to prison :
We two alone will sing like birds i' the cage :
When thou dost ask me blessing I '11 kneel down
And ask of thee forgiveness : so we '11 live,
And pray, and sing, and tell old tales, and laugh
At gilded butterflies, and hear poor rogues
Talk of court news ; and we '11 talk with them
too, [out ;
Who loses and who wins; who's in, who's
And take upon 's the mystery of things
As if we were God's spies : and we '11 wear out
SCENE III.]
KING LEAR.
1061
In a wall'd prison packs and sects of great ones
That ebb and flow by the moon.
Edm. Take them away.
Lear. Upon such sacrifices, my Cordelia,
The gods themselves throw incense. Have I
caught thee ? . [heaven,
He that parts us shall bring a brand from
And fire us hence like foxes. Wipe thine eyes ;
The good years shall devour them, flesh and fell ,
Ere they shall make us weep : we '11 see 'em
starve first
Come. [Exeunt LEAR and COR. , guarded.
Edm. Come hither, captain ; hark.
Take thou this note [giving a paper] ; go follow
them to prison :
One step I have advanc'd thee ; if thou dost
As this instructs thee, thou dost make thy way
To noble fortunes : know thou this, that men
Are as the time is : to be tender-minded
Does not become a sword : thy great employ-
ment
Will not bear question ; either say thou 'It do 't,
Or thrive by other means.
Off. I '11 do 't, my lord.
Edtn* About it ; and write happy when thou
hast done,
Mark, I say, instantly; and carry it so
As I have set it down.
Off. I cannot draw a cart nor eat dried oats ;
If it be man's work I will do 't. [Exit.
Flourish. Enter ALBANY, GONERIL, REGAN,
Officers, and Attendants.
Alb. Sir, you have shown to-day your valiant
strain,
And fortune led you well : you have the captives
Who were the opposites of this day's strife :
We do require them of you, so to use them
As we shall find their merits and our safety
May equally determine.
Edm. Sir, I thought it fit
To send the old and miserable king
To some retention and appointed guard ;
Whose age has charms in it, whose title more,
To pluck the common bosom on his side,
And turn our impress'd lances in our eyes
Which do command them. With him I sent
the queen ;
My reason all the same ; and they are ready
To-morrow, or at further space, to appear
Where you shall hold your session. At this
time [friend ;
We sweat and bleed: the friend hath lost his
And the best quarrels, in the heat, are curs'd
By those that feel their sharpness:
The question of Cordelia and her father
Requires a. fitter place.
Alb. Sir, by your patience
I hold you but a subject of this war,
Not as a brother.
Reg. That 's as we list to grace him.
Methinks our pleasure might have been de-
manded
Ere you had spoke so far. He led our powers ;
Bore the commission of my place and person ;
The which immediacy may well stand up
And call itself your brother.
Gon. Not so hot :
In his own grace he doth exalt himself,
More than in your addition.
Reg. In my rights,
By me invested, he compeers the best.
Gon. That were the most, if he should hus-
band you.
Reg. Jesters do oft prove prophets.
Gon. Holla, holla !
That eye that told you so look'd but asquint.
Reg. Lady, I am not well; else I should
answer
From a full-flowing stomach. General,
Take thou my soldiers, prisoners, patrimony ;
Dispose of them, of me ; the walls are thine :
Witness the world that I create thee here
My lord and master.
Gon. Mean you to enjoy him ?
Alb. The let-alone lies not in your good-will.
Edm. Nor in thine, lord.
Alb. Half-blooded fellow, yes.
Reg. Let the drum strike, and prove my title
thine. [To EDMUND.
Alb. Stay yet; hear reason. Edmund, I
arrest thee
On capital treason ; and, in thy arrest,
This gilded serpent {pointing to GONERIL].
For your claim, fair sister,
I bar it in the interest of my wife ;
'Tis she is sub-contracted to this lord,
And I, her husband, contradict your bans.
If you will marry, make your loves to me,
My lady is bespoke.
Gon. A r interlude !
Alb. Thou art arrn'd, Gloster : let the
trumpet sound :
If none appear to prove upon thy person
Thy heinous, manifest, and many treasons,
There is my pledge [throwing down a glove] ;
I '11 make it on thy heart,
Ere I taste bread, thou art in nothing less
Than I have here proclaim'd thee.
Reg. Sick, O, sick!
Gon. [Aside.] If not, I '11 ne'er trust medicine.
Edm. There ' my exchange [throwing^d&tvn
a glove} : what in the world he is
That names me traitor, villain-like he lies s
1062
KING LEAR.
[ACT v.
Call by thy trumpet : he that dares approach,
On him, on you, who not ? I will maintain
My truth and honour firmly.
Alb. A herald, ho!
Edm. A herald, ho, a herald !
Alb. Trust to thy single virtue ; for thy
soldiers,
All levied in my name, have in my name
Took their discharge.
Reg. My sickness grows upon me.
Alb. She is not well ; convey her to my tent.
[Exit REGAN led.
Enter a Herald.
Come hither, herald, Let the trumpet sound,
And read out this.
Off. Sound, trumpet ! [A trumpet sounds.
Herald. [Reads. ~\ If any man of quality or
degree within the lists of the army will main-
tain tipon Edmund, supposed Earl of Gloster,
that he is a manifold traitor, let him appear by
the third sound of the trumpet : he is bold in
his defence.
Edm. Sound ! [i Tsumpet.
Herald. Again! [2 Trumpet.
Herald. Again ! [3 Trumpet.
[ Trumpet answers within.
Enter EDGAR, armed, and preceded by a
trumpet.
Alb. Ask him his purposes, why he appears
Upon this call o' the trumpet.
Herald. What are you ?
Your name, your quality? and why you answer
This present summons ?
Edg. Know, my name is lost ;
By treason's tooth bare-gnawn and canker-bit :
Yet am I noble as the adversary
I come to cope.
Alb. Which is that adversary?
Edg. What's he that speaks for Edmund
Earl of Gloster?
Edm. Himself: what say'st thou to him ?
Edg. Draw thy sword,
That, if my speech offend a noble heart,
Thy arm may do thee justice : here is mine.
Behold, it is tne privilege of mine honours,
My oath, and my profession : I protest,
Maugre thy strength, youth, place, and emin-
ence,
Despite thy victor sword and fire-new fortune,
Thy valour and thy heart, thou art a traitor ;
False to thy gods, thy brother, and thy father ;
Conspirant 'gainst this high illustrious prince ;
And, from the extremest upward of thy head
To the descent and dust below thy foot,
A most toad-spotted traitor. Say thou No,
This sword, this arm, and my best spirits, are
bent
To prove upon thy heart, whereto I speak,
Thou liest.
Edm. In wisdom I should ask thy name ;
But, since thy outside looks so fair and warlike,
And that thy tongue some say of breeding
breathes,
What safe and nicely I might well delay
By rule of knighthood, I disdain and spurn :
Back do I toss these treasons to thy head ;
With the hell-hated lie o'erwhelm thy heart ;
Which, for they yet glance by and scarcely
bruise,
This sword of mine shall give them instant way,
Where they shall rest for ever. Trumpets,
speak!
[Alarums. They fight. EDMUND/^//?.
Alb. Save him, save him J
Gon. This is practice, Gloster :
By the law of arms thou wast not bound to
answer
An unknown opposite ; thou art not vanquish'd,
But cozen'd and beguil'd,
Alb. Shut your mouth, dame,
Or with this paper shall I stop it : hold, sir ;
Thou worse than any name, read thine own
evil :
No tearing, lady ; I perceive you know it.
[Gives the letter to EDMUND.
Gon. Say, if I do, the laws are mine, not
thine :
Who can arraign me for't?
Alb. Most monstrous!
Know'st thou this paper?
Gon. Ask me not what I know.
[Exit.
Alb. Go after her : she 's desperate ; govern
her. [To an Officer, who goes out.
Edm. What you have charg'd me with, that
have I done ; [out :
And more, much more ; the time will bring it
'Tis past, and so am I. But what art thou
That hast this fortune on me ? If thou 'rt noble
I do forgive thee.
Edg. Let 's exchange charity.
I am no less in blood than thou art, Edmund;
If more, the more thou hast wrong'd me.
My name is Edgar, and thy father's son.
The gods are just, and of our pleasant vices
Make instruments to plague us :
The dark and vicious place where thee he got
Cost him his eyes.
Edm. Thou hast spoken right, 'tis true ;
The wheel is come full circle ; I am here.
Alb. Methought thy very gait did prophesy
A royal nobleness : I must embrace thee :
SCENE III.]
KING LEAR.
Let sorrow split my heart if ever I
Did hate thee or thy father !
Edg. Worthy prince, I know 't.
Alb. Where have you hid yourself?
How have you known the miseries of your
father? [tale;
Edg. By nursing them, my lord. List a brief
And when 'tis told, O, that my heart would
burst !
The bloody proclamation to escape, [ness !
That follow'd me so near, O, our lives' sweet-
That with the pain of death we 'd hourly die
Rather than die at once ! taught me to shift
Into a madman's rags ; to assume a semblance
That very dogs disdain'd : and in this habit
Met I my father with his bleeding rings,
Their precious stones new lost; became his
E' * :,
d for him, sav'd him from despair ;
lit ! reveal'd myself unto him
Until some half-hour past, when I was arm'd ;
Not sure, though hoping, of this good success,
I ask'd his blessing, and from first to last
Told him my pilgrimage : but his flaw'd heart,
Alack, too weak the conflict to support !
'Twixt two extremes of passion, joy and grief,
Burst smilingly.
Edm. This speech of yours hath mov'd me,
And shall perchance do good : but speak you on ;
You look as you had something more to say.
Alb. If there be more, more woeful, hold it in ;
For I am almost ready to dissolve,
Hearing of this.
Edg. This would have seem'd a period
To such as love not sorrow ; but another,
To amplify too much, would make much more,
And top extremity. [man
Whilst I was big in clamour, came there a
Who, having seen me in my worst estate,
Shunn'd my abhorr'd society ; but then, finding
Who 'twas that so endur'd, with his strong arms
He fasten'd on my neck, and bellow'd out
As he 'd burst heaven ; threw him on my father ;
Told the most piteous tale of Lear and him
That ever ear receiv'd : which in recounting
His grief grew puissant, and the strings of life
Began to crack : twice then the trumpet sounded,
And there I left him tranc'd.
Alb. But who was this ?
Edg. Kent, sir, the banish'd Kent, who in
disguise
Follow'd his enemy king, and did him service
Improper for a slave.
Enter a Gentleman hastily, with a bloody knife.
Gent. Help, help, O, help I
Edg. What kind of help?
Alb. Speak, man.
Edg. What means that bloody knife ?
Gent. 'Tis hot, it smokes;
It came even from the heart of O, she 's dead !
Alb. Who dead? speak, man.
Gent. Your lady, sir, your lady: and her sister
By her is poison'd ; she hath confess'd it.
Edm. I was contracted to them both: all three
Now marry in an instant.
Edg. Here comes Kent.
Alb. Produce the bodies, be they alive or
dead : [tremble,
This judgment of the heavens, that makes us
Touches us not with pity. [Exit Gentleman.
Enter KENT.
O, is this he ?
The time will not allow the compliment
Which very manners urges.
Kent. I am come
To bid my king and master aye good-night :
Is he not here ?
Alb. Great thing of us forgot !
Speak, Edmund, where 's the king? and where 's
Cordelia ?
[The bodies of Gow. and REG. are brought in.
See'st thou this object, Kent ?
Kent. Alack, why thus?
Edm. Yet Edmund was belov*d
The one the other poison'd for my sake,
And after slew herself.
Alb. Even so. Cover their faces. [do,
Edm. I pant for life : some good I mean to
Despite of mine own nature. Quickly send,
Be brief in it, to the castle ; for my writ
Is on the life of Lear and on Cordelia :
Nay, send in time.
Alb. Run, run, O, run! [send
Edg. To who, my lord? Who has the office?
Thy token of reprieve.
Edm. Well thought on : take my sword,
Give it the captain.
Alb. Haste thee, for thy life.
[Exit EDGAR.
Edm. He hath commission from thy wife
and me
To hang Cordelia in the prison, and
To lay the blame upon her own despair,
That she fordid herself.
Alb. The gods defend her ! Bear him hence
awhile. [EDMUND is borne off.
Re-enter LEAR, with CORDELIA dead in his
arms; EDGAR, Officer, and others following.
Lear. Howl, howl, howl, howl I O, you
are men of stones :
Had I your tongues and eyes, I 'd use them so
1064
KING LEAR.
i ACT V.
That heaven's vault should crack. She '3 gone
for ever !
I know when one is dead and when one lives ;
She 's dead as earth. Lend me a looking-glass;
If that her breath will mist or stain the stone,
Why, then she lives.
Kent. Is this the promis'd end?
Edg. Or image of that horror ?
Alb. Fall, and cease !
Lear. This feather stirs ; she lives ! if it be so,
It is a chance which does redeem all sorrows
That ever I have felt.
Kent. O my good master ! [Kneeling.
Lear. Pr'ythee, away.
Edg. 'Tis noble Kent, your friend.
Lear. A plague upon you, murderers, traitors
all ! [ever !
I might have say'd her; now she's gone for
Cordelia, Cordelia ! stay a little. Ha !
What is't thou say'st? Her voice was ever
soft, [woman.
Gentle, and low, an excellent thing in
I kill'd the slave that was a-hanging thee.
Off. J Tis true, my lords, he did.
Lear. Did I not, fellow ?
I have seen the day, with my good biting
falchion,
I would have made them skip : I am old now,
And these same crosses spoil me. Who are you ?
Mine eyes are not o' the best: I'll tell you
straight. [hated,
Kent. If fortune brag of two she lov'd and
One of them we behold. [Kent ?
Lear. This is a dull sight. Are you not
Kent. The same,
Your servant Kent.- Where is your servant
Caius ?
Lear. He 's a good fellow, I can tell you that ;
He '11 strike, and quickly too : he 's dead and
rotten. [man,
Kent. No, my good lord; I am the very
Lear. I '11 see that straight [decay
Kent. That from your first of difference and
Have follow'd your sad steps.
Lear. You are welcome hither.
Kent. Nor no man else: all's cheerless,
dark, and deadly.
Your eldest daughters haveforedone themselves,
And desperately are dead.
Lear. Ay, so I think.
Alb. He knows not what he says; and vain is it
That we present us to him.
Edg. Very bootless.
Enter an Officer.
Off. Edmund is dead, my lord.
Alb. That 's but a trifle here.
You lords and noble friends, know our intent.
What comfort to this great decay may come
Shall be applied : for us, we will resign,
During the life of this old majesty,
To him our absolute power: you to you*
rights ; [ To EDGAR and KENT.
With boot, and such addition as your honours
Have more than merited. All friends shall taste
The wages of their virtue, and all foes
The cup of their deservings. O, see, see !
Lear. And my poor fool is hang'd! No,
no, no, life !
Why should a dog, a horse, a rat have life,
And thou no breath at all ? Thou 'It come no
more,
Never, never, never, never, never !
Pray you, undo this button: thank you, sir.
Do you see this ? Look on her, look, her
lips,
Look there, look there ! \He dies.
Edg. He faints ! My lord, my lord !
Kent. Break, heart ; I pr'ythee, break !
Edg. Look up, my lord.
Kent. Vex not his ghost : O, let him pass !
he hates him
That would upon the rack of this rough world
Stretch him out longer.
Edg. He is gone indeed.
Kent. The wonder is he hath endur'd so long:
He but usurp'd his life. [business
Alb. Bear them from hence. Our present
Is general woe. Friends of my soul, you twain
[ To KENT and EDGAR.
Rule in this realm, and the gor'd state sustain.
Kent. I have a journey, sir, shortly to go ;
My master calls me, I must not say no.
Alb. The weight of this sad time we must obey;
Speak what we feel, not what we ought to say.
The oldest hath borne most: we that are young
Shall never see so much nor live so Jong.
[Exeunt ', with a dead inarch*
ROMEO AND JULIET.
PERSONS REPRESENTED.
ESCALUS, Prince of Verona.
PARIS, a Young Nobleman, Kinsman to the
Prince.
MONTAGUE, \ Heads of two Houses at variance
CAPULET, / with each other.
An Old Man, Uncle to CAPULET.
ROMEO, Son to MONTAGUE.
MERCUTIO, Kinsman to the Prince, and Friend
to ROMEO.
BENVOLIO, Nephew to MONTAGUE, and Friend
to ROMEO.
TYBALT, Nephew to LADY CAPULET.
FRIAR LAWRENCE, a Franciscan.
FRIAR JOHN, of the same Order.
BALTHASAR, Servant to ROMEO.
PETER, Servant to JULIET'S Nurse.
ABRAHAM, Servant to MONTAGUE.
An Apothecary.
Three Musicians.
Chorus.
Page to PARIS ; another Page.
An Officer.
LADY MONTAGUE, Wife to MONTAGUE.
LADY CAPULET, Wife to CAPULET.
JULIET, Daughter to CAPOLBT.
Nurse to JULIET.
Citizens of Verona ; several Men and Women,
relations to both Houses ; Maskers, Guards,
Watchmen, and Attendants.
SCENE, During the greater part of the Play in VERONA; once, in the Fifth Act, at MANTUA.
PROLOGUE.
Two households, both alike in dignity,
In fair Verona, where we lay our scene,
From ancient grudge break to new mutiny,
Where civil blood makes civil hands unclean.
From forth the fatal loins of these twc foes
A pair of star-cross'd lovers take their life ;
Whose rmsadventur'd piteous overthrows
Do witn their death bury their parents' s f rife.
The fearful passage of their death-mark'd love,
And the continuance of their parents' rage,
Which but their children's end naught come,
remove,
Is now the two hours' traffic of our stage?
The which, if you with patient ears attend,
What here shall miss our toil shall strive to
mend.
ACT I.
SCENE I. A public Place.
Enter SAMPSON and GREGORY, armed with
swords and bucklers.
Sam. Gregory, o* my word, we'll not carry
coals.
Gre. No, for then we should be colliers.
Sam. I mean, an we be in choler we '11 draw.
Gre. Ay, while you live, draw your neck out
o' the collar.
Sam. I strike quickly, being moved.
' Gre. But thou art not quickly moved to strike.
Sam. A dog D the house of Montague moves
me.
Grs, To move is to stir ; and to be valiant is
to yj?jid: therefore, if thou art moved, thou
rur.n'it away.
Sam. A dog of that house shall move me to
3tand: I will take the wall of any man or maid
OA Montague's.
G*'t* That shows thee a weak slave ; for the
weakest goes to the wall.
Sam. True ; and therefore women, being the
iv^atcer vessels, are ever thrust to the wall:
therefore I will push Montague's men from the
wall and thrust his maids to the wall.
Gre. The quarrel is between our masters and
us their men.
Sam. 'Tis all one, I will show myself a tyrant:
when I have fought with the men I will be cruel
with the maids, and cut off their heads.
Gre. The heads of the maids ?
Sam. Ay, the heads of the maids, or their
maidenheads ; take it in what sense thou
wilt.
Gre. They must take it in sense that feel it.
Sam. Me they shall feel while I am able to
stand : and 'tis known I am a pretty piece of
flesh.
Gre. 'Tis well thou art not fish : if thou hadst.
io66
ROMEO AND JULIET.
[ACT I.
them hadst been poor-John. Draw thy tool ;
here comes two of the house of the Montagues.
Sam. My naked weapon is out: quarrel, I
will back thee.
Gre. How ! turn thy back and run?
Sam. Fear me not.
Gre. No, marry ; I fear thee !
Sam. Let us take the law of our sides ; let
them begin.
Gre. I will frown as I pass by ; and let them
take it as they list.
Sam. Nay, as they dare. I will bite my
thumb at them ; which is a disgrace to them if
they bear it.
Enter ABRAHAM and BALTHASAR
Abr. Do you bite your thumb at us, sir ?
Sam. I do bite my thumb, sir.
Abr. Do you bite your thumb at us, sir ?
Sam. Is the law of our side if I say ay?
Gre. No.
Sam. No, sir, I do not bite my thumb at
you, sir ; but I bite my thumb, sir.
Gre. Do you quarrel, sir?
Abr. Quarrel, sir! no, sir.
Sam. If you do, sir, I am for you : I serve
as good a man as you.
Abr. No better.
Sam. Well, sir.
Gre. Say better: here comes one of my
master's kinsmen.
Sam. Yes, better, sir.
Abr. You lie.
Sam. Draw, if you be men. Gregory, re-
member thy swashing blow. \Theyjfight.
Enter BENVOLIO.
Ben. Part, fools ! put up your swords ; you
know not what you do.
\Beats down their swords.
Enter TYBALT.
Tyb. What, art thou drawn among these
heartless hinds?
Turn thee, Benvolio, look upon thy death.
Ben. I do but keep the peace : put up thy
sword,
Or manage it to part these men with me.
Tyb. What, drawn, and talk of peace! I
hate the word
As I hate hell, all Montagues, and thee :
Have at thee, coward ! \Theyjight.
Enter several of both Houses, who join the
fray ; then enter Citizens with clubs.
I Cit. Clubs, bills, and partisans! strike!
beat them down ! [tagues !
Down with the Capulets ! Down with the Mon-
Enter CAPULET in his gown, and LADY
CAPULET.
Cap. What noise is this? Give me my long
sword, ho!
Lady C. A crutch, a crutch ! Why call you
for a sword?
Cap. My sword, I say ! Old Montague is
come,
And flourishes his blade in spite of me.
Enter MONTAGUE and LADY MONTAGUE.
Man. Thou villain Capulet ! Hold me not,
let me go.
Lady M. Thou shalt not stir a foot to seek
a foe.
Enter PRINCE, with Attendants.
Prin. Rebellious subjects, enemies to peace,
Profaners of this neighbour-stained steel,
Will they not hear? What, ho you men, you
beasts,
That quench the fire of your pernicious rage
With purple fountains issuing from your veins,
On pain of torture, from those bloody hands
Throw your mistemper'd weapons to theground,
And hear the sentence of your moved prince. *
Three civil brawls, bred of an airy word,
By thee, old Capulet and Montague,
Have thrice disturb'd the quiet of our streets ;
And made Verona's ancient citizens
Cast by their grave beseeming ornaments,
To wield old partisans in hands as old,
Canker'd with peace, to part your canker'd hate:
If ever you disturb our streets again,
Your lives shall pay the forfeit of the peace.
For this time, all the rest depart away :
You, Capulet, shall go along with me ;
And, Montague, come you this afternoon,
To know our further pleasure in this case,
To old Free-town, our common judgment-
place.
Once more, on pain of death, all men depart.
[^^W/PRIN. ^Attendants; CAP., LADY
C., TYB., Citizens, and Servants.
Mon. Who set this ancient quarrel new
abroach ?
Speak, nephew, were you by when it began?
Ben. Here were the servants of your adver-
sary
And yours close fighting ere I did approach :
I drew to part them : in the instant came
The fiery Tybalt, with his sword prepar'd ;
Which, as he breath'd defiance to my ears,
He swung about his head, and cut the winds,
Who, nothing hurt withal, hiss'd him in scorn:
While we were interchanging thrusts and blows,
SCENE I.
KOMEO AND JULIET.
1067
Came more and more, and fought on part and
part,
Till the prince came, who parted either part.
Lady M. O, where is Romeo ? saw you
him to-day?
Right glad I am he was not at this fray, [sun
Ben. Madam, an hour before the worshipp'd
Peer'd forth the golden window of the east,
A troubled mind drave me to walk abroad ;
Where, underneath the grove of sycamore
That westward rooteth from the city's side,
So early walking did I see your son :
Towards him I made ; but he was ware of me,
And stole into the covert of the wood :
I, measuring his affections by my own,
That most are busied when they're most alone,
Pursu'd my humour, not pursuing his,
And gladly shunn'd who gladly fled from me.
Mon. Many a morning hath he there been
seen,
With tears augmenting the fresh morning's dew,
Adding to clouds more clouds with his deep
sighs :
But all so soon as the all-cheering sun
Should in the furthest east begin to draw
The shady curtains from Aurora's bed,
Away from light steals home my heavy son,
And private in his chamber pens himself;
Shuts up his windows, locks fair daylight out,
And makes himself an artificial night :
Black and portentous must this humour prove,
Unless good counsel may the cause remove.
Ben. My noble uncle, do you know the cause?
Man. I neither know it nor can learn of him.
Ben. Have you importun'd him by any means?
Mon. Both by myself and many other friends:
But he, his own affections' counsellor,
Is to himself, I will not say how true,
But to himself so secret and so close,
So far from sounding and discovery,
As is the bud bit with an envious worm
Ere he can spread his sweet leaves to the air,
Or dedicate his beauty to the sun.
Could we but learn from whence his sorrows
grow,
We would as willingly give cure as know.
Ben. See where he comes: so please you,
step aside ;
1 : 11 know his grievance or be much denied.
Mon. I would thou wert so happy by thy stay
To hear true shrift. Come, madam, let 's away.
{Exeunt MONTAGUE and Lady.
Enter ROMEO.
Ben. Good-morrow, cousin.
Rom. Is the day so young?
Ben. But new struck nine.
Rom. Ay me ! sad hours seem long.
Was that my father that went hence so fast?
Ben. It was. What sadness lengthens
Romeo's hours? [them short.
Rom. Not having that which, having, makes
Ben. In love?
Rom. Out,
Ben. Of love?
Rom. Out of her favour where I am in love.
Ben. Alas, that love, so gentle in his view,
Should be so tyrannous and rough in proof!
Rom. Alas, that love, whose view is muffled
still, [will !
Should, without eyes, see pathways to his
Where shall we dine? O me ! What fray was
here?
Yet tell me not, for I have heard it all.
Here's much to do with hate, but more with
love :
Why, then, O brawling love ! O loving hate !
O anything, of nothing first create !
O heavy lightness ! serious vanity!
Mis-shapen chaos of well-seeming forms !
Feather of lead, bright smoke, cold fire, sick
health !
Still-waking sleep, that is not what it is!
This love feel I, that feel no love in this.
Dost thou not laugh ?
Ben. No, coz, I rather weep.
Rom. Good heart, at what?
Ben. At thy good heart's oppression.
Rom, Why, such is love's transgression.
Griefs of mine own lie heavy in my breast ;
Which thou wilt propagate, to have it prest
With more of thine : this love that thou hast
shown
Doth add more grief to too much of mine own.
Love is a smoke rais'd with the fume of sighs ;
Being purg'd, a fire sparkling in lovers' eyes;
Being vex'd, a sea nourish'd with lovers' tears:
What is it else? a madness most discreet,
A choking gall, and a preserving sweet.
Farewell, my coz. [Going.
Ben. Soft! I will go along:
An if you leave me so, you do me wrong.
Rom. Tut, I have lost myself; I am not here ;
This is not Romeo, he 's some other where.
Ben. Tell me in sadness who is that you love.
Rom. What, shall I groan and tell thee?
Ben. Groan ! why, no ;
But sadly tell me who. [will,
Rom. Bid a sick man in sadness make his
Ah, word ill urg'd to one that is so ill !
In sadness, cousin, I do love a woman.
Ben. I aim'd so near when I suppos'd you
lov'd. [fair I love.
Rom. A right good marksman ! And she 's
io68
ROMEO AND JULIET.
[ACT I.
Ben. A right fair mark, fair coz, is soonest
hit. [be hit
Rom. Well, in that hit you miss : she '11 not
With Cupid's arrow, she hath Dian's wit ;
And in strong proof of chastity well arm'd,
From love's weak childish bow she lives un-
harm'd.
She will not stay the siege of loving terms
Nor bide the encounter of assailing eyes,
Nor ope her lap to saint-seducing gold :
O, she is rich in beauty; only poor,
That, when she dies, with beauty dies her store.
Ben. Then she hath sworn that she will still
live chaste ? [huge waste ;
Rom. She hath, and in that sparing makes
For beauty, starv'd with her severity,
Cuts beauty off from all posterity.
She is too fair, too wise ; wisely too fair,
To merit bliss by making me despair :
She hath forsworn to love ; and in that vow
Do I live dead that live to tell it now.
Ben. Be rul'd by me, forget to think of her.
Rom. O, teach me how I should forget to
think.
Ben. By giving liberty unto thine eyes ;
Examine other beauties.
Rom. 'Tis the way
To call hers, exquisite, in question more :
These happy masks that. kiss fair ladies' brows,
Being black, put us in mind they hide the fair;
He that is strucken blind cannot forget
The precious treasure of his eyesight lost :
Show me a mistress that is passing fair,
What doth her beauty serve but as a note
Where I may read who pass'd that passing fair?
Farewell : thou canst not teach me to forget.
Ben. I '11 pay that doctrine or else die in debt.
[Exeunt.
SCENE II. A Street.
Enter CAPULET, PARIS, and Servant.
Cap. But Montague is bound as well as I,
In penalty alike ; and 'tis not hard, I think,
For men so old as we to keep the peace.
Par. Of honourable reckoning are you both;
And pity 'tis you liv'd at odds so long.
But now, my lord, what say you to my suit ?
Cap. But saying o'er what I have said before :
My child is yet a stranger in the world,
She hath not seen the change of fourteen years;
Let two more summers wither in their pride
Ere we may think her ripe to be a bride.
Par. Younger than she are happy mothers
made. [made.
Cap. And too soon marr'd are those so early
Earth hath swallow'd all my hopes but she,
She is the hopeful lady of my earth :
But woo her, gentle Paris, get her heart,
My will to her consent is but a part ;
An she agree, within her scope of choice
Lies my consent and fair according voice.
This night I hold an old accustom'd feast,
Whereto I have invited many a guest,
Such as I love ; and you, among the store,
One more, most welcome, makes my number
more.
At my poor house look to behold this night
Earth- treading stars that make dark heaven
light :
Such comfort as do lusty young men feel
When well-apparell'd April on the heel
Of limping winter treads, even such delight
Among fresh female buds shall you this night
Inherit at my house ; hear all, all see,
And like her most whose merit most shall be :
Such, amongst view of many, mine being one,
May stand in number, though in reckoning none.
Come, go with me. Go, sirrah, trudge about
Through fair Verona ; find those persons out
Whose names are written there {gives a paper\
and to them say,
My house and welcome on their pleasure stay.
[Exeunt CAPULET and PARIS.
Serv. Find them out whose names are writ-
ten here ! It is written that the shoemaker
should meddle with his yard, and the tailor
with his last, the fisher with his pencil, and the
painter with his nets ; but I am sent to find
those persons whose names are here writ, and
can never find what names the writing person
hath here writ. I must to the learned: in
good time.
Enter BENVOLIO and ROMEO.
Ben. Tut, man, one fire burns out another 's
burning,
One pain is lessen'd by another's anguish ;
Turn giddy, and be holp by backward turning;
One desperate grief cures with another's
languish:
Take thou some new infection to thy eye,
And the rank poison of the old will die.
Rom. Your plantain -leaf 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 than a
madman is ;
Shut up in prison, kept without my food,
Whipp'd and tormented, and God-den, good
fellow. [read ?
Serv. God gi' god-den. I pray, sir, can you
Rom. Ay, mine own fortune in my misery.
SCENE III.]
ROMEO AND JULIET.
X069
Serv. Perhaps you have learned it without
book : but, I pray, can you read anything you
see? [language.
Rom. Ay, if I know the letters and the
Serv. Ye say honestly : rest you merry !
Rom. Stay, fellow ; I can read. [Reads.
Signior Martina and his wife and daughters _,
County Anselme and his beauteous sisters ; the
lady widow of Vitruvio ; Signior Placentio and
his lovely nieces ; Mercutio and his brother
Valentine ; mine uncle Capulet, his wife and
daughters ; my fair niece Rosaline; Livia ;
Signior Valentio and his cousin Tybalt; Lucio
and the lively Helena.
A fair assembly {gives back the paper] : whither
should they come ?
Serv. Up.
Rom. Whither?
Serv. To supper ; to our house.
Rom. Whose house ?
Serv. My master's. [before.
Rom. Indeed, I should have ask'd you that
Serv. Now I '11 tell you without asking : my
master is the great rich Capulet ; and if you be
not of the house of Montagues, I pray, come
and crush a cup of wine. Rest you merry !
[Exit.
Ben. At this same ancient feast of Capulet's
Sups the fair Rosaline whom thou so lov'st ;
With all the admired beauties of Verona :
Go thither ; and, with unattainted eye,
Compare her face with some that I shall show,
And I will make thee think thy swan a crow.
Rom. When the devout religion of mine eye
Maintains such falsehood, then turn tears to
fires ; [die,
And these, who, often drown'd, could never
Transparent heretics, be burnt for liars !
One fairer than my love ! the all-seeing sun
Ne'er saw her match since first the world
begun. [by,
Ben. Tut, you saw her fair, none else being
Herself pois'd with herself in either eye :
But in that crystal scales let there be weigh'd
Your lady's love against some other maid
That I will show you shining at this feast,
And she shall scant show well that now shows
best.
Rom. I '11 go along, no such sight to be shown,
But to rejoice in splendour of mine own.
[Exeunt.
SCENE III. A Room in CAPULET'S House.
Enter LADY CAPULET and Nurse.
Lady C. Nurse, where 's my daughter ? call
her forth to me.
/*
Wha
Nurse. Now, by my maidenhead, at twelve
year old, [bird!
I bade her come. What, lamb! what lady-
God forbid ! where 's this girl ? what, Juliet !
Enter JULIET.
ful. How now, who calls?
Nurse. Your mother.
'ul. Madam, I am here.
hat is your will ?
Lady C. This is the matter. Nurse, give
leave awhile, [again ;
We must talk in secret: nurse, come back
I have remember'd me, thou's hear our counsel.
Thou know'st my daughter 's of a pretty age.
Nurse. Faith, I can tell her age unto an
hour.
Lady C. She 's not fourteen.
Nurse. I '11 lay fourteen of my teeth,
And yet, to my teen be it spoken, I have but
four,
She is not fourteen. How lorg is it now
To Lammas-tide?
Lady C. A fortnight and odd days.
Nurse. Even or odd, of all days in the year,
Come Lammas-eve at night shall she be
fourteen.
Susan and she, God rest all Christian souls !
Were of an age : well, Susan is with God ;
She was too good for me : but, as I said,
On Lammas-eve at night shall she be fourteen ;
That shall she, marry ; I remember it well.
'Tis since the earthquake now eleven years ;
And she was wean'd, I never shall forget it,
Of all the days of the year, upon that day :
For I had then laid wormwood to my dug,
Sitting in the sun under the dove-house wall ;
My lord and you were then at Mantua:
Nay, I do bear a brain : but, as I said,
When it did taste the wormwood on the nipple
Of my dug, and felt it bitter, pretty fool,
To see it tetchy, and fall out with the dug !
Shake, quoth the dove-house : 'twas no need, I
trow,
To bid me trudge.
And since that time it is eleven years ;
For then she could stand alone ; nay, by the
rood
She could have run and waddled all about ;
For even the day before, she broke her brow :
And then my husband, God be with his soul !
'A was a merry man, took up the child :
Yea, quoth he, dost tkoufall upon thy face?
Thou wilt fall backward when thou hast more
wit;
Wilt thou notyjule? and, by my holidame,
The pretty wretch left crying, and said Ay :
1070
ROMEO AND JULIET.
[ACT i.
To see, now, how a jest shall come about !
I warrant, an I should live a thousand years,
I never should forget it : Wilt thou not, fule ?
quoth he;
And, pretty fool, it stinted, and said Ay.
Lady C. Enough of this ; I pray thee, hold
thy peace. [but laugh,
Nurse. Yes, madam ; yet I cannot choose
To think it should leave ciying, and say Ay :
And yet, I warrant, it had upon its brow
A bump as big as a young cockerel's stone ;
A parlous knock ; and it cried bitterly.
Yea, quoth my husband, falPst upon thy face ?
Thou wilt fall backward when thou contest to age ;
Wilt thou notyjule? it stinted, and said Ay.
Jul. And stint thou too, I pray thee, nurse,
say I. [to his grace !
Nurse. Peace, I have done. God mark thee
Thou wast the prettiest babe that e'er I nurs'd :
An I might live to see thee married once,
I have my wish. [theme
Lady C. Marry, that marry is the very
I came to talk of. Tell me, daughter Juliet,
How stands your disposition to be married ?
Jul. It is an honour that I dream not of.
* Nurse. An honour ! were not I thine only
nurse, [thy teat.
I would say thou hadst suck'd wisdom from
Lady C. Well, think of marriage now ;
younger than you,
Here in Verona, ladies of esteem,
Are made already mothers : by my count
I was your mother much upon these years
That you are now a maid. Thus, then, in
brief;
The valiant Paris seeks you for his love.
Nurse. A man, young lady ! lady, such a
man
As all the world why, he 's a man of wax.
Lady C. Verona's summer hath not such a
flower.
Ntirse. Nay, he 's a flower ; in faith, a very
flower. [gentleman?
Lady C. What say you? can you love the
This night you shall behold him at our feast ;
Read o'er the volume of young Paris' face,
And find delight writ there with beauty's pen ;
Examine every married lineament,
And see how one another lends content ;
And what obscur'd in this fair volume lies
Find written in the margent of his eyes.
This precious book of love, this unbound lover,
To beautify him, only lacks a cover :
The fish lives in the sea ; and 'tis much pride
For fair without the fair within to hide :
That book in many's eyes doth share the glory
That in gold clasps locks in the golden story ;
So shall you share all that he doth possess,
By having him, making yourself no less.
Nurse. No less ! nay, bigger ; women grow
by men. [love ?
Lady C. Speak briefly, can you like of Paris'
Jul. I '11 look to like, if looking liking move :
But no more deep will I endart mine eye [fly.
Than your consent gives strength to make it
Enter a Servant.
Serv. Madam, the guests are come, supper
served up, you called, my young lady asked
for, the nurse cursed in the pantry, and every-
thing in extremity. I must hence to wait ; I
beseech you, follow straight.
Lady C. We follow thee. [Exit Servant.]
Juliet, the county stays.
Nurse. Go, girl, seek happy nights to happy
days. [Exeunt.
SCENE IV. A Street.
Enter ROMEO, MERCUTIO, BENVOLIO, with
five or six Maskers, Torch-bearers, and others.
Rom. What, shall this speech be spoke for
our excuse ?
Or shall we on without apology ?
Ben. The date is out of such prolixity :
We '11 have no Cupid hoodwink'd with a scarf,
Bearing a Tartar's painted bow of lath,
Scaring the ladies like a crow-keeper ;
Nor no without-book prologue, faintly spoke
After the prompter, for our entrance :
But, let them measure us by what they will,
We '11 measure them a measure, and be gone.
Rom. Give me a torch, I am not for this
ambling ;
Being but heavy, I will bear the light.
Mer. Nay, gentle Romeo, we must have you
dance.
Rom. Not I, believe me : you have dancing
shoes,
With nimble soles : I have a soul of lead
So stakes me to the ground I cannot move.
Mer. You are a lover ; borrow Cupid's wings,
And soar with them above a common bound.
Rom. I am too sore enpierced with his snau
To soar with his light feathers ; and so bound,
I cannot bound a pitch above dull woe :
Under love's heavy burden do I sink. [love ;
Mer. And to sink in it should you burden
Too great oppression for a tender thing.
Rom. Is love a tender thing? it is too rough,
Too rude, too boisterous ; and it pricks like
thorn.
Mer. If love be rough with you, be rough
with love ;
SCENE IV.]
ROMEO AND JULIET.
1071
Prick love for pricking, and you beat love
down.
Give me a case to put my visage in :
[Putting on a mask.
A visard for a visard ! what care I
What curious eye doth quote deformities ?
Here are the beetle-brows shall blush for me.
Ben. Come, knock and enter ; and no sooner
in
But every rnan betake him to his legs.
Rom. A torch for me : let wantons, light of
heart,
Tickle the senseless rushes with their heels ;
For I am proverb'd with a grandsire phrase,
I '11 be a candle-holder, and look on,
The game was ne'er so fair, and I am done.
Mer. Tut, dun 's the mouse, the constable's
own word :
If thou art dun, we '11 draw thee from the mire
Of this sir-reverence love, wherein thou
stick'st
Up to the ears. Come, we burn daylight, ho.
Rom. Nay, that ! s not so.
Met. I mean, sir, in delay
We waste our lights in vain, like lamps by day.
Take our good meaning, for our judgment sits
Five times in that ere once in our five wits.
Rom. And we mean well in going to this
mask;
But 'tis no wit to go,
Mer. Why, may one ask?
Rom. I dreamt a dream to-night
Mer. And so did I.
Rom. Well, what was yours ?
Mer. That dreamers often He.
Rom. In bed asleep, while they do dream
things true. [with you.
Mer. O, then, I see Queen Mab hath been
She is the fairies' midwife ; and she comes
In shape no bigger than an agate-stone
On the fore-finger of an alderman,
Drawn with a team of little atomies
Athwart men's noses as they lie asleep:
Her waggon-spokes made of long spinners' legs;
The cover, of the wings of grasshoppers ;
The traces, of the smallest spider's web ;
The collars, of the moonshine's watery beams ;
Her whip, of cricket's bone ; the lash, of film;
Her waggoner, a small gray-coated gnat,
Not half so big as a round little worm
Prick'd from the lazy finger of a maid :
Her chariot is an empty hazel-nut,
Made by the joiner squirrel or old grub,
Time out p' mind the fairies' cpachmakers.
And in this state she gallops night by night
Through lovers' brains, and then they dream
of love ;
O'er courtiers' knees, that dream on court'sies
straight ;
O'er lawyers' fingers, who straight dream on
fees ;
O'er ladies' lips, who straight on kisses dream,
Which oft the angry Mab with blisters plagues,
Because their breaths with sweatmeats tainted
are :
Sometime she gallops o'er a courtier's nose,
And then dreams he of smelling out a suit ;
And sometime comes she with a tithe-pig's tail,
Tickling a parson's nose as 'a lies asleep,
Then dreams he of another benefice :
Sometime she driveth o'er a soldier's neck,
And then dreams he of cutting foreign throats,
Of breaches, ambuscadoes, Spanish blades,
Of healths five fathom deep ; and then anon
Drums in his ear, at which he starts and wakes ;
And, being thus frighted, swears a prayer or two,
And sleeps again. This is that very Mab
That plats the manes of horses in the night ;
And bakes the elf-locks in foul sluttish hairs,
Which, once untangled, much misfortune bodes;
This is the hag, when maids lie on their backs,
That presses them, and learns them first to bear,
Making them women of good carriage :
This is she,
Rom. Peace, peace, Mercutio, peace,
Thou talk'st of nothing.
Mer. True, I talk of dreams.
Which are the children of an idle brain,
Begot of nothing but vain fantasy ;
Which is as thin of substance as the air,
And more inconstant than the wind, who wooes
Even now the frozen bosom of the north,
And, being anger'd, puffs away from thence,
Turning his face to the dew-dropping south.
Ben. This wind you talk of blows us from
ourselves :
Supper is done, and we shall come too late.
Rom. I fear, too early : for my mind misgives
Some consequence, yet hanging in the stars,
Shall bitterly begin his fearful date
With this night's revels ; and expire the term
Of a despised life, clos'd in my breast,
By some vile forfeit of untimely death :
But He that hath the steerage of my course
Direct my sail ! On, lusty gentlemen.
Ben. Strike, drum- [Exeunt.
SCENE V. A Hall in CAPULET'S House.
Musicians waiting. Enter Servants.
1 Serv. Where 's Potpan, tliat he helps not
to take away? he shift a trencher ! he scrape a
trencher !
2 Serv. When good manners shall lie all in
1072
ROMEO AND JULIET.
[ACT I.
one or two men's hands, and they unwashed
too, 'tis a foul thing.
I Serv. Away with the joint-stools, remove
the court-cupboard, look to the plate: good
thou, save me a piece of marchpane; and as
thou lovest me let the porter let in Susan
Grindstone and Nell. Antony I and Potpan!
2. Serv. Ay, boy, ready.
1 Serv. You are looked for and called for,
asked for and sought for in the great chamber.
2 Serv. We cannot be here and there too.
Cheerly, boys ; be brisk awhile, and the longer
liver take all. \They retire behind.
Enter CAPULET, &c., with the Guests and
the Maskers.
Cap. Welcome, gentlemen ! ladies that have
their toes [you.
Unplagu'd with corns will have a bout with
Ah ha, my mistresses ! which of you all
Will now deny to dance? she that makes
dainty, she,
I '11 swear hath corns ; am I come near you now?
Welcome, gentlemen ! I have seen the day
That I have worn a visard ; and could tell
A whispering tale in a fair iady's ear,
Such as would please ; 'tis gone, 'tis gone, 'tis
gone: [cians, play.
You are welcome, gentlemen ! Come, musi-
A hall, a hall ! give room, and foot it, girls.
[ Music plays, and thty dance.
More light, you knaves ; and turn the tables up,
And quench the fire, the room is grown too
hot
Ah, sirrah, this unlook'd-for sport comes well.
Nay, sit, nay, sit, good cousin Capulet;
For you and I are past our dancing days:
How long is 't now since last yourself and I
Were in a mask ?
2 Cap. By 'r Lady, thirty years.
Cap. What, man ! 'tis not so much, 'tis not
so much:
} Tis since the nuptial of Lucentio,
Come Pentecost as quickly as it will,
Some five-and-twenty years; and then we
mask'd. [sir ;
2 Cap. 'Tis more, 'tis more : his son is elder,
His son is thirty.
Cap. Will you tell me that?
His son was but a ward two years af o.
Rom. What lady is that which doth enrich
the hand
Of yonder knight?
Serv. I know not, sir. [bright !
Rom. O, she doth teach the torches to burn
It seems she hangs upon the cheek of night
Like a rich jewel in an Ethiop's ear ;
Beauty too rich for use, for earth too dear !
So shows a snowy dove trooping with crows
As yonder lady o'er her fellows shows.
The measure done, I '11 watch her place of stand,
And, touching hers, make blessed my rude
hand.
Did my heart love till now? forswear it, sight !
For I ne'er saw true beauty till this night.
Tyb. This, by his voice, should be a Mon-
tague. [slave
Fetch me my rapier, boy: what, dares the
Come hither, cover'd with an antic face,
To fleer and scorn at our solemnity ?
Now, by the stock and honour of my kin,
To strike him dead I hold it not a sin.
Cap. Why, how now, kinsman! wherefore
storm you so?
Tyb. Uncle, this is a Montague, our foe ;
A villain, that is hither come in spite,
To scorn at our solemnity this night.
Cap. Young Romeo, is it ?
Tyb. 'Tis he, that villain, Romeo.
Cap. Content thee, gentle coz, let him alone,
He bears him like a portly gentleman ;
And, to say truth, Verona brags of him
To be a virtuous and well-govern'd youth :
I would not for ihe wealth of all the town
Here in my house do him disparagement :
Therefore be patient, take no note of him,
It is my will ; the which if thou respect,
Show a fair presence and put off these frowns,
An ill-beseeming semblance for a feast.
Tyb. It fits, when such a villain is a guest :
I '11 not endure him.
Cap. He shall be endur'd:
What, goodman, boy! I say he shall; go to;
Am I the master here or you ? go to. [soul,
You '11 not endure him ! God shall mend my
You '11 make a mutiny among my guests !
You will set cock-a-hoop ! you '11 be the man !
Tyb. Why, uncle, 'tis a shame.
Cap. Go to, go to ;
You are a saucy boy. Is 't so, indeed ?
This trick may chance to scath you, I know
what:
You must contrary me ! marry, 'tis time.
Well said, my hearts ! You are a princox ; go :
Be quiet, or More light, more light ! For
shame I [hearts.
I'll make you quiet. What, cheerly, my
Tyb. Patience perforce with wilful choler
meeting
Makes my flesh tremble in their different
greeting.
I will withdraw : but this intrusion shall,
Now seeming sweet, convert to bitter gall.
SCENE V.]
ROMEO AND JULIET.
1073
Rom. If I profane with my unworthiest
hand [70JULIET.
This holy shrine, the gentle fine is this,
My Ups, two blushing pilgrims, ready stand
To smooth that rough touch with a tender kiss.
Jul. Good pilgrim, you do wrong your hand
too much,
Which mannerly devotion shows in this ;
For saints have hands that pilgrims' hands do
touch,
And palm to palm is holy palmers' kiss.
Rom. Have not saints lips, and holy palmers
too ? [prayer.
Jul. Ay, pilgrim, lips that they must use in
Rom. O, then, dear saint, let lips do what
hands do ; [despair.
They pray, grant thou, lest faith turn to
Jul. Saints do not move, though grant for
prayers' sake. [I take.
Rom. Then move not while my prayer's effect
Thus from my lips, by yours, my sin is purg'd.
[Kissing her.
Jul. Then have my lips the sin that they
have took. [urg'd !
Rom. Sin from my lips ? O trespass sweetly
Give me my sin again.
Jul. You kiss by the book.
Nurse. Madam, your mother craves a word
with you.
Rom. What is her mother ?
Nurse. Marry, bachelor,
Her mother is the lady of the house,
And a good lady, and a wise and virtuous :
I nurs'd her daughter that you talk'd withal ;
I tell you, he that can lay hold of her
Shall have the chinks.
Rom. Is she a Capulet?
dear account ! my life is my foe's debt.
Ben. Away, be gone; the sport is at the
best.
Rom. Ay, so I fear ; the more is my unrest.
Cap. Nay, gentlemen, prepare not to be
gone;
We have a trifling foolish banquet towards.
Is it e'en so ? why, then I thank you all ;
1 thank you, honest gentlemen ; good-night
More torches here ! Come on, then let J s to
bed. [late :
Ah, sirrah [to 2 Cap.}, by my fay, it waxes
I '11 to my rest
[Exeunt all but JULIET and Nurse.
Jul. Come hither, nurse. What is yon
gentleman ?
Nurse. The son and heir of old Tiberio.
Jul. What's he that now is going out of
door ? [truchio.
Nurse. Marry, that I think be young Pe-
JuL What 's he that follows there, that would
not dance ?
Nurse. I know not.
Jul. Go, ask his name : if he be married,
My grave is like to be rny wedding-bed.
Nurse. His name is Romeo, and a Montague;
The only son of your great enemy.
Jul. My only love sprung from rny only hate !
Too early seen unknown, and known too late!
Prodigious birth of love it is to me,
That I must love a loathed enemy.
Nurse. What's this? What's this?
Jul. A rhyme I learn'd even now
Of one I danc'd withal.
[One calls within, "Juliet."
Nurse. Anon, anon !
Come, let 's away ; the strangers are all gone.
[Exeunt.
Enter Chorus.
Now old desire doth in his death-bed lie,
And young affection gapes to be his heir ;
That fair for which love groan'd for, and
would die,
With tender Juliet match'd, is now not fair.
Now Romeo is belov'd, and loves again,
Alike bewitched by the charm of looks ;
But to his foe suppos ; d he must complain,
And she steal love's sweet bait from fearful
hooks :
Being held a foe, he may not have access
To breathe such vows as lovers us'd to swear ;
And she as much in love, her means much less
To meet her new-beloved anywhere : [meet,
But passion lends them power, time means to
Tempering extremities with extreme sweet.
[Exit.
ACT II.
SCENE I. An open place M^WW^CA
Garden.
Enter ROMEO.
Rom. Can I go forward when my heart is
here?
Turn back, dull earth, and find thy centre out.
[He climbs the wall and leaps down
within it.
Enter BENVOLIO and MERCUTIO.
Ben. Romeo ! my cousin Romeo !
Mer. He is wise ;
And, on my life, hath stol'n him home to bed.
Ben. He ran this way, and leap'd this
orchard wall :
Call, good Mercutio.
1074
ROMEO AND JULIET.
[ACT n.
Mer. Nay, I '11 conjure too.
Romeo ! humours ! madman ! passion ! lover !
Appear thou in the likeness of a sigh :
Speak but one rhyme and I am satisfied ;
Cry but, Ah me! pronounce but Love and
dove ;
Speak to my gossip Venus one fair word,
One nickname for her purblind son and heir,
Young auburn Cupid, he that shot so trim
When King Cophetua lov'd the beggar-
maid !
He heareth not, he stirreth not, he moveth not ;
The ape is dead, and I must conjure him.
I conjure thee by Rosaline's bright eyes,
By her high forehead and her scarlet lip,
By her fine foot, straight leg, and quivering
thigh,
And the demesnes that there adjacent lie,
That in thy likeness thou appear to us !
Ben. An if he hear thee, thou wilt anger him.
Mer. This cannot anger him : 'twould anger
him
To raise a spirit in his mistress' circle,
Of some strange nature, letting it there stand
Till she had laid it, and conjur'd it down ;
That were some spite : my invocation
Is fair and honest, and, in his mistress' name,
I conjure only but to raise up him. [trees.
Ben. Come, he hath hid himself among these
To be consorted with the humorous night :
Blind is his love, and best befits the dark.
Mer. If love be blind, love cannot hit the
mark.
Now will he sit under a medlar tree,
And wish his mistress were that kind of fruit
As maids call medlars when they laugh alone.
Romeo, good -night. I '11 to my truckle-bed ;
This field-bed is too cold for me to sleep :
Come, shall we go ?
Ben. Go, then ; for 'tis in vain
To seek him here that means not to be found.
[Exeunt.
SCENE II. CAPULET'S Garden.
Enter ROMEO.
Rom. He jests at scars that never lelt a
wound.
[JULIET appears above at a window.
But, soft ! what light through yonder window
breaks ?
It is the east, and Juliet is the sun !
Arise, fair sun, and kill the envious moon,
Who is already sick and pale with grief,
That thou her maid art far more fair than she :
Be not her maid, since she is envious ;
Her vestal livery is but sick and green,
And none but fools do wear it ; cast it off.
It is my lady ; O, it is my love !
O, that she knew she were !
She speaks, yet she says nothing : what of that?
Her eye discourses, I will answer it.
I am too bold, 'tis not to me she speaks :
Two of the fairest stars in all the heaven,
Having some business, do entreat her eyes
To twinkle in their spheres till they return.
What if her eyes were there, they in her head?
The brightness of her cheek would shame those
stars,
As daylight doth a lamp ; her eyes in heaven
Would through the airy region stream so bright
That birds would sing, and think it were not
night.
See how she leans her cheek upon her hand !
O, that I were a glove upon that hand,
That I might touch that cheek !
Jul. Ah me !
Rom. She speaks :
O, speak again, bright angel ! for thou art
As glorious to this night, being o'er my head,
As is a winged messenger of heaven
Unto the white-upturned wondering eyes
Of mortals that fall back to gaze on him
When he bestrides the lazy-pacing clouds
And sails upon the bosom of the air.
Jul. O Romeo, Romeo ! wherefore art thou
Romeo ?
Deny thy father and refuse thy name ;
Or, if thou wilt not, be but sworn my love,
And I '11 no longer be a Capulet.
Rom. [Aside.'] Shall I hear more, or shall I
speak at this?
Jul. 'Tis but thy name that is my enemy ;
Thou art thyself though, not a Montague.
What 's Montague ? It is nor hand, nor foot,
Nor arm, nor face, nor any other part
Belonging to a man. O, be some other name !
What's in a name? that which we call a
rose,
By any other name would smell as sweet ;
So Romeo would, were he not Romeo call'd,
Retain that dear perfection which he owes
Without that title : Romeo, doff thy name ;
And for that name, which is no part of thee,
Take all myself.
Rom. I take thee at thy word :
Call me but love, and I '11 be new baptiz'd ;
Henceforth I never will be Romeo.
Jul. What man art thou, that, thus be*
screen'd in night,
So stumblest on my counsel ?
Rom. By a name
I know not how to tell thee who I am :
My name, dear saint, is hateful to myself,
SCENE II.]
ROMEO AND JULIET.
1075
Because it is an enemy to thee ;
Had I it written, I would tear the word.
Jul. My ears have not yet drunk a hundred
words [sound ;
Of that tongue's utterance, yet I know the
Art thou not Romeo, and a Montague?
Rom. Neither, fair saint, if either thee dislike.
Jul. How cam'st thou hituer, tell me, and
wherefore ?
The orchard walls are high and hard to climb ;
And the place death, considering who thou art,
If any of my kinsmen find thee here.
Rom. With love's light wings did I o'er-
perch these walls ;
For stony limits cannot hold love out :
And what love can do, that dares love attempt ;
Therefore thy kinsmen are no let to me.
Jul. If they do see thee they will murder
thee. [eye
Rom. Alack, there lies more peril in thine
Than twenty of their swords : look thou but
sweet,
And I am proof against their enmity. [here.
Jul. I would not for the world they saw thee
Rom. I have night's cloak to hide me from
their sight ;
And, but thou love me, let them find me here :
My life were better ended by their hate
Than death prorogued wanting of thy love.
Jul. By whose direction found'st thou out
this place ? [inquire ;
Rom. By love, who first did prompt me to
He lent me counsel, and I lent him eyes.
I am no pilot ; yet, wert thou as far
As that vast shore wash'd with the furthest sea,
I would adventure for such merchandise.
Jul. Thou know'st the mask of night is on
my face,
Else would a maiden blush bepaint my cheek
For that which thou hast heard me speak to-
night.
Fain would I dwell on form, fain, fain deny
What I have spoke : but farewell compliment !
Dost thou love me? I know thou wilt say Ay ;
And I will take thy word : yet, if thou swear'st,
Thou mayst prove false ; at lovers' perjuries
They say Jove laughs. O gentle Romeo,
If thou dost love, pronounce it faithfully :
Or, if thou think'st I am too quickly won,
I '11 frown, and be perverse, and say thee nay,
So thou wilt woo ; but else, not for the world.
In truth, fair Montague, I am too fond ;
And therefore thou mayst think my 'haviour
light :
But trust me, gentleman, I '11 prove more true
Than those that have more cunning to be
strange.
I should have been more strange, I must con-
fess,
But that thou over-heard'st, ere I was 'ware,
My true love's passion : therefore pardon me ;
And not impute this yielding to light love,
Which the dark night hath so discovered.
Rom. Lady, by yonder blessed moon I swear,
That tips with silver all these fruit-tree tops,
Jul. O, swear not by the moon, the incon-
stant moon,
That monthly changes in her circled orb,
Lest that thy love prove likewise variable.
Rom. What shall I swear by ?
Jul. Do not swear at all ;
Or, if thou wilt, swear by thy gracious self,
Which is the god of my idolatry,
And I '11 believe thee.
Rom. If my heart's dear love,
Jul. Well, do not swear : although I joy in
thee,
I have no joy of this contract to-night :
It is too rash, too unadvis'd, too sudden ;
Too like the lightning, which doth cease to be
Ere one can say, It lightens. Sweet, good-
night !
This bud of love, by summer's ripening breath,
May prove a beauteous flower when next we
meet. [rest
Good-night, good-night ! as sweet repose and
Come to thy heart as that within my breast !
Rom. O, wilt thou leave me so unsatisfied ?
Jul. What satisfaction canst thou have to-
night ?
Rom. The exchange of thy love's faithful
vow for mine. [quest it :
Jul. I gave thee mine before thou didst re-
And yet I would it were to give again.
Rom. Wouldst thou withdraw it ? for what
purpose, love?
Jul. But to be frank, and give it thee again.
And yet I wish but for the thing I have :
My bounty is as boundless as the sea,
My love as deep ; the more I give to thee
The more I have, for both are infinite.
[Nurse calls within.
I hear some noise within ; dear love, adieu !
Anon, good nurse ! Sweet Montague, be true.
Stay but a little, I will come again. [Exit.
Rom. O blessed, blessed night ! I am afeard,
Being in night, all this is but a dream,
Too flattering-sweet to be substantial.
Re-enter JULIET above.
Jul. Three words, dear Romeo, and good-
night indeed.
If that thy bent of love be honourable, [row,
Thy purpose marriage, send me word to-mor-
1076
ROMEO AND JULIET.
[ACT II.
By one that I '11 procure to come to thee,
Where and what time thou wilt perform the
rite ;
And all my fortunes at thy foot I '11 lay,
And follow thee, my lord, throughout the world.
Nurse. [Within.} Madam! [well,
Jul. I come anon. But if thou mean'st not
I do beseech thee,
Nurse. [Within.] Madam!
Jul. By and by, I come :
To cease thy suit, and leave me to my grief:
To-morrow will I send.
Rom. So thrive my soul,
Jul. A thousand times good-night ! [Exit.
Rom. A thousand times the worse, to want
thy light.
Love goes toward love as school-boys from
their books; [looks.
But love from love, toward school with heavy
[Retiring slowly.
Re-enter JULIET above.
/ul. Hist ! Romeo, hist ! O for a falconer's
voice,
To lure this tassel -gentle back again !
Bondage is hoarse, and may not speak aloud ;
Else would I tear the cave where Echo lies,
And make her airy tongue more hoarse than
mine
With repetition of my Romeo's name.
Rom. It is my soul that calls upon my name :
How silver-sweet sound lovers' tongues by night,
Like softest music to attending ears !
Jul. Romeo !
Rom. My dear?
Jul. At what o'clock to-morrow
Shall I send to thee ?
Rom. At the hour of nine.
Jul. I will not fail : 'tis twenty years till then.
I have forgot why I did call thee back. [it.
Rom. Let me stand here till thou remember
Jul. I shall forget, to have thee still stand
there,
Remembering how I love thy company.
Rom. And I '11 still stay, to have thee still
forget,
Forgetting any other home but this.
Jul. 'Tis almost morning; I would have thee
gone:
And yet no further than a wanton's bird ;
Who lets it hop a little from her hand,
Like a poor prisoner in his twisted gyves,
And with a silk thread plucks it back again,
So loving-jealous of his liberty.
Rom. I would I were thy bird.
Jul. Sweet, so would I :
Yet I should kill thee with much cherishing.
Good-night, good-night ! parting is such sweet
sorrow
That I shall say good-night till it be morrow.
[Exit.
Rom. Sleep dwell upon thine eyes, peace in
thy breast!
Would I were sleep and peace, so sweet to rest!
Hence will I to my ghostly father's cell,
His help to crave and my dear hap to tell. [Exit.
SCENE III. FRIAR LAWRENCE'S Cell.
Enter FRIAR LAWRENCE with a basket.
Fri. L. The gray-ey'd morn smiles on the
frowning night, [light ;
Chequering the eastern clouds with streaks of
And flecked darkness like a drunkard reels
From forth day's path and Titan's fiery wheels:
Now, ere the sun advance his burning eye^
The day to cheer and night's dank dew to dry.
I must up-fill this osier cage of ours
With baleful weeds and precious-juiced flowers.
The earth, that 's nature's mother, is her tomb>
What is her burying grave, that is her womb :
And from her womb children of divers kind
We sucking on her natural bosom find ;
Many for many virtues excellent,
None but for some, and yet all different.
O, mickle is the powerful grace that lies
In herbs, plants, stones, and their true qualities :
For naught so vile that on the earth doth live
But to the earth some special good doth give ;
Nor aught so good but, strain'd from that fair use,
Revolts from true birth, stumbling on abuse :
Virtue itself turns vice, being misapplied ;
And vice sometimes by action dignified.
Within the infant rind of this small flower
Poison hath residence, and medicine power :
For this, being smelt, with that part cheers
each part ;
Being tasted, slays all senses with the heart.
Two such opposed kings encamp them still
In man as well as herbs, grace and rude will ;
And where the worser is predominant,
Full soon the canker death eats up that plant.
Enter ROMEO.
Rom. Good-morrow, father!
Fri. L. Benedicite!
What early tongue so sweet saluteth me ?
Young son, it argues a distemper'd head
So soon to bid good-morrow to thy bed :
Care keeps his watch in every old man's eye,
And where care lodges sleep will never lie ;
But where unbvuised youth with unstuff'd brain
Doth couch his limbs, there golden sleep doth
reign:
SCBNB III.]
ROMEO AND JULIET.
1077
Therefore thy earliness doth me assure
Thou art uprous'd by some distemperature ;
Or if not so, then here I hit it right,
Our Romeo hath not been in bed to-night.
Rom. That last is true ; the sweeter rest was
mine. [Rosaline ?
Fri. L. God pardon sin ! wast thou with
Rom. With Rosaline, my ghostly father ? no ;
I have forgot that name, and that name's woe.
Fri. L. That 's my good son : but where hast
thou been, then ?
Rom. I '11 tell thee ere thou ask it me again.
I have been feasting with mine enemy ;
Where, on a sudden, one hath wounded me
That 's by me wounded ; both our remedies
Within thy help and holy physic lies :
I bear no hatred, blessed man ; for, lo,
My intercession likewise steads my foe. [drift ;
Fri. L. Be plain, good son, and homely in thy
Riddling confession finds but riddling shrift.
Rom. Then plainly know my heart's dear
love is set
On the fair daughter of rich Capulet :
As mine on hers, so hers is set on mine ;
And all combin'd, save what thou must combine
By holy marriage : when, and where, and how
We met, we woo'd, and made exchange of vow,
I '11 tell thee as we pass ; but this I pray,
That thou consent to marry us to-day. [here!
Fri. L. Holy St. Francis ! what a change is
Is Rosaline, whom thou didst love so dear,
So soon forsaken? young men's love, then, lies
Not truly in their hearts, but in their eyes.
Jesu Maria, what a deal of brine
Hath wash'd thy sallow cheeks for Rosaline!
How much salt water thrown away in waste,
To season love, that of it doth not taste!
The sun not yet thy sighs from heaven clears,
Thy old groans ring yet in my ancient ears ;
Lo, here upon thy cheek the stain doth sit
Of an old tear that is not wash'd off yet :
If e'er thou wast thyself, and these woes thine,
Thou and these woes were all for Rosaline :
And art thou chang'd? pronounce this sentence,
then, [men.
Women may fall, when there's no strength in
Rom. Thou chidd'stme oft for loving Rosaline.
Fri. L. For doting, not for loving, pupil mine.
Rom. And bad'st me bury love.
Fri. L. Not in a grave,
To lay one in, another out to have. [now
Rom. I pray thee, chide not: she whom I love
Doth grace for grace and love for love allow ;
The other did not so.
Fri. L. O, she knew well
Thy love did read by rote, and could not spell.
But come, young waverer, come, go with me,
In one respect I '11 thy assistant be ;
For this alliance may so happy prove,
To turn your households' rancour to pure love.
Rom. O, let us hence; I stand on sudden haste.
Fri. L. Wisely and slow ; they stumble that
run fast. {Exeunt.
SCENE IV. A Street.
Enter BENVOLIO and MEKCUTIO.
Mer. Where the devil should this Romeo
be?
Came he not home to-night?
Ben. Not to his father's ; I spoke with his
man.
Mer. Ah, that same pale hard-hearted wench,
that Rosaline,
Torments him so that he will sure run mad.
Ben. Tybalt, the kinsman of old Capulet,
Hath sent a letter to his father's house.
Mer. A challenge, on my life.
Ben. Romeo will answer it.
Mer. Any man that can write may answer a
letter.
Ben. Nay, he will answer the letter's master,
how he dares, being dared.
Mer. Alas, poor Romeo, he is already dead!
stabbed with a white wench's black eye ; shot
thorough the ear with a love-song ; the very
pin of his heart cleft with the blind bow-boy's
butt-shaft: and is he a man to encounter Tybalt?
Ben. Why, what is Tybalt?
Mer. More than prince of cats, I can tell you.
O, he is the courageous captain of compliments.
He fights as you sing prick-song, keeps time,
distance, and proportion ; rests me his minim
rest, one, two, and the third in your bosom :
the very butcher of a silk button, a duellist, a
duellist; a gentleman of the very first house,
of the first and second cause : ah, the immortal
passado! the punto reverse! the hay!
Ben. The what ?
Mer. The pox of such antic, lisping, affecting
fantasticoes ; these new tuners of accents !
By Jesu^ a very good blade! a very tall man!
a very good whore! Why, is not this a
lamentable thing, grandsire, that we should be
thus afflicted with these strange flies, these
fashion-mongers, these pardonnez-mois, who
stand so much on the new form that they can-
not sit at ease on the old bench? O, their
bans, their bons!
Ben. Here comes Romeo, here comes Romeo.
Mer. Without his roe, like a dried herring.
O, flesh, flesh, how art thou fishified ! Now
is he for the numbers that Petrarch flowed in :
1078
ROMEO AND JULIET.
[ACT n.
Laura, to his lady, was but a kitchen-wench,
marry, she had a better love to be-rhyme her ;
Dido, a dowdy ; Cleopatra, a gipsy; Helen and
Hero, hildings and harlots ; Thisbe, a gray eye
or so, but not to the purpose,
Enter ROMEO.
Signior Romeo, ban jour! there's a French
salutation to your French slop. You gave us
the counterfeit fairly last night.
Rom. Good-morrow to you both. What
counterfeit did I give you ?
Mer. The slip, sir, the slip ; can you not
conceive ?
Rom. Pardon, good Mercutio, my business
was great ; and in such a case as mine a man
may strain courtesy.
Mer. That 's as much as to say, such a case
as yours constrains a man to bow in the hams.
Rom. Meaning, to court'sy.
Mer. Thou hast most kindly hit it.
Rom. A most courteous exposition.
Mer. Nay, I am the very pink of courtesy.
Rom. Pink for flower.
Mer. Right.
Rom. Why, then is my pump well flowered.
Mer. Well said : follow me this jest now till
thou hast worn out thy pump ; that when the
single sole of it is worn, the jest may remain,
after the wearing, sole singular.
Rom. O single-soled jest, solely singular for
the singleness !
Mer. Come between us, good Benvolio ; my
wits faint.
Rom. Switch and spurs, switch and spurs ;
or I '11 cry a match.
Mer. Nay, if thy wits run the wild-goose
chase, I have done ; for thou hast more of the
wild-goose in one of thy wits than, I am sure,
I have in my whole five : was I with you there
for the goose ?
Rom. Thou wast never with me for anything
when thou wast not there for the goose.
Mer. I will bite thee by the ear for that jest.
Rom. Nay, good goose, bite not.
Mer. Thy wit is a very bitter sweeting ; it is
a most sharp sauce.
Rom. And is it not well served in to a sweet
goose ?
Mer. O, here 's a wit of cheveril, that stretches
from an inch narrow to an ell broad !
Rom. I stretch it out for that word, broad :
which added to the goose, proves thee far and
wide a broad goose.
Mer. Why, is not this better now than groan-
ing for love? now art thou sociable, now art
thou Romeo ; not art thou what thou art, by
art as well as by nature : for this drivelling love
is like a great natural, that runs lolling up and
down to hide his bauble in a hole.
Ben. Stop there, stop there.
Mer. Thou desirest me to stop in my tale
against the hair.
Ben. Thou wouldst else have made thy tale
large.
Mer. O, thou art deceived ; I would have
made it short: for I was come to the whole
depth of my tale ; and meant, indeed, to occupy
the argument no longer.
Rom. Here 's goodly gear !
Enter Nurse and PETER.
Mer. A sail, a sail, a sail !
Ben. Two, two ; a shirt and a smock.
Nurse. Peter !
Peter. Anon?
Nurse. My fan, Peter.
Mer. Good Peter, to hide her face ; for her
fan 's the fairer face.
Nurse. God ye good-morrow, gentlemen.
Mer. God ye good-den, fair gentlewoman.
Nurse. Is it good-den ?
Mer. 'Tis no less, I tell you ; for the bawdy
hand of the dial is now upon the prick of noon.
Nurse. Out upon you ! what a man are you !
Rom. One, gentlewoman, that God hath
made himself to mar.
Nurse. By my troth, it is well said ; for
himself to mar, quoth 'a? Gentlemen, can any
of you tell me where I may find the young
Romeo ?
Rom. I can tell you : but young Romeo will
be older when you have found him than he was
when you sought him: I am the youngest of
that name, for fault of a worse.
Nurse. You say well.
Mer. Yea, is the worst well ? very well took,
i' faith ; wisely, wisely.
Nurse. If you be he, sir, I desire some confi-
dence with you.
Ben. She will indite him to some supper.
Mer. A bawd, a bawd, a bawd ! So ho !
Rom. What hast thou found ?
Mer. No hare, sir ; unless a hare, sir, in a
lenten pie, that is something stale and hoar ere
it be spent. \_Sings.
An old hare hoar,
And an old hare hoar,
Is very good meat in Lent :
But a hare that is hoar
Is top much for a score,
When it hoars ere it be spent.
Romeo, will you come to your father's ? we '11
to dinner thither.
SCENE IV.]
ROMEO AND JULIET.
1079
Rom. I will follow you.
Mer. Farewell, ancient lady; farewell,
[singing} lady, lady, lady.
[Exeunt MERCUTIO and BENVOLIO.
Nurse. Marry, farewell ! I pray you, sir,
what saucy merchant was this, that was so full
of his ropery ?
Rom. A gentleman, nurse, that loves to hear
himself talk ; and will speak more in a minute
than he will stand to in a month.
Nurse. An 'a speak anything against me, I '11
take him down, an 'a were lustier than he is,
and twenty such Jacks ; and if I cannot, I '11
find those that shall. Scurvy knave ! I am
none of his flirt -gills ; I am none of his skains-
mates. And thou must stand by too, and
suffer every knave to use me at his pleasure ?
Pet. I saw no man use you at his pleasure ;
if I had, my weapon should quickly have been
out, I warrant you : I dare draw as soon as
another man, if I see occasion in a good quarrel,
and the law on my side.
Nurse. Now, afore God, I am so vexed that
every part about me quivers. Scurvy knave !
Pray you, sir, a word : and as I told you, my
young lady bade me inquire you out ; what she
bade me say I will keep to myself: but first let
me tell ye, if ye should lead her into a fool's
paradise, as they say, it were a very gross kind
of behaviour, as they say : for the gentlewoman
is young ; and, therefore, if you should deal
double with her, truly it were an ill thing to
be offered to any gentlewoman, and very weak
dealing.
Rom. Nurse, commend me to thy lady and
mistress. I protest unto thee,
Nurse. Good heart, and, i' faith, I will tell
her as much : Lord, Lord, she will be a joyful
woman.
Rom. What wilt thou tell her, nurse ? thou
dost not mark me.
Nurse. I will tell her, sir, -that you do pro-
test ; which, as I take it, is a gentlemanlike
offer. [shrift
Rom. Bid her devise some means to come to
This afternoon ;
And there she shall at Friar Lawrence' cell
Be shriv'd and married. Here is for thy pains.
Nurse. No, truly, sir ; not a penny.
Rom. Go to ; I say you shall. [there.
Nurse. This afternoon, sir? well, she shall be
Rom. And stay, good nurse, behind the
abbey- wall :
Within this hour my man shall be with thee,
And bring thee cords made like a tackled stair ;
Which to the high top-gallant of my joy
Must be my convoy in the secret night.
Farewell ; be trusty, and I '11 quit thy pains :
Farewell ; commend me to thy mistress.
Nurse. Now God in heaven bless thee !
Hark you, sir.
Rom. What say'st thou, my dear nurse?
Nurse. Is your man secret ? Did you ne'er
hear say
Two may keep counsel, putting one away ?
Rom. I warrant thee, my man 's as true as
steel.
Nttrse. Well, sir ; my mistress is the sweetest
lady, Lord, Lord ! when 'twas a little prating
thing, O, there's a nobleman in town, one
Paris, that would fain lay knife aboard ; but
she, good soul, had as .lief see a toad, a very
toad, as see him. I anger her sometimes, and
tell her that Paris is the properer man ; but,
I '11 warrant you, when I say so, she looks as
pale as any clout in the versa! world. Doth
not rosemary and Romeo begin both with ft
letter ? [an R.
Rom. Ay, nurse ; what of that ? both with
Nurse. Ah, mocker ! that 's the dog's name.
R is for the dog : no ; I know it begins with
some other letter : and she hath the prettiest
sententious of it, of you and rosemary, that it
would do you good to hear it.
Rom. Commend me to thy lady.
Nurse. Ay, a thousand times. [Exit ROMEO. ]
Peter !
Pet. Anon?
Nurse. Peter, take my fan and go before.
[Exeunt.
SCENE V. CAPULET'S Garden.
Enter JULIET.
Jul. The clock struck nine when I did send
the nurse ;
In half an hour she promis'd to return, [so.
Perchance she cannot meet him : that 's not
O, she is lame ! love's heralds should be
thoughts, [beams,
Which ten times faster glide than the sun's
Driving back shadows over lowering hills :
Therefore do nimble-pinion'd doves draw love,
And therefore hath the wind-swift Cupid wings.
Now is the sun upon the highmost hill
Of this day's journey ; and from nine till twelve
Is three long hours, yet she is not come.
Had she affections and warm youthful blood,
She 'd be as swift in motion as a ball ;
My words would bandy her to my sweet love,
And his to me :
But old folks, many feign as they were dead ;
Unwieldy, slow, heavy and pale as lead.
O God, she comes I
ROMEO AND JULIET.
[ACT ii.
Enter Nurse and PETER.
O honey nurse, what news ?
Hast thou met with him ? Send thy man away.
Nurse. Peter, stay at the gate.
[Exit PETER.
Jul. Now, good sweet nurse, O Lord, why
look'st thou sad ?
Though news be sad, yet tell them merrily ;
If good, thou sham'st the music of sweet news
By playing it to me with so sour a face.
Nurse. I am a- weary, give me leave a-
while ; [had !
Fie, how my bones ache ! what a jaunt have I
ful. I would thou hadst my bones and I thy
news : [nurse, speak.
Nay, come, I pray thee, speak ; good, good
Nurse. Jesu, what haste? can you not stay
awhile ?
Do you not see that I am out of breath ?
Jul. How art thou out of breath, when thou
hast breath
To say to me that thou art out of breath ?
The excuse that thou dost make in this delay
Is longer than the tale thou dost excuse.
Is thy news good or bad ? answer to that ;
Say either, and I '11 stay the circumstance :
Let me be satisfied, is 't good or bad ?
Nurse. Well, you have made a simple
choice j you know not how to choose a man :
Romeo ! no, not he ; though his face be better
than any man's, yet his leg excels all men's ;
and for a hand, and a foot, and a body,
though they be not to be talked on, yet they
are past compare : he is not the flower of
courtesy, but I '11 warrant him as gentle as a
lamb. Go thy ways, wench ; serve God.
What, have you dined at home ?
Jul. No, no : but all this did I know before.
What says he of our marriage ? what of that ?
Nurse. Lord, how my head aches ! what a
head have I !
It beats as it would fall in twenty pieces.
My back o' t' other side, O, my back, my
back !
Beshrew your heart for sending me about
To catch my death with jaunting up and down !
Jul. I* faith, I am sorry that thou art not
well.
Sweet, sweet, sweet nurse, tell me, what says
my love? [man,
Nurse. Your love says, like an honest gentle-
And a courteous, and a kind, and a handsome,
And, I warrant, a virtuous, Whe*"e is your
mother ?
Jul. Where is my mother ! why, she is
within ;
Where should she be? How oddly thou re
pliest!
Your love says, like an honest gentleman^
Where is your mother?
Nurse. O God ? s lady dear !
Are you so hot ? marry, come up, I trow ;
Is this the poultice for my aching bones r
Henceforward, do your messages yourself.
Jul. Here 's such a coil ! come, what says
Romeo ? [day ?
Nurse. Have you got leave to go to shrift to-
Jul. I have. [cell;
Nurse. Thenhie youhence to Friar Lawrence'
There stays a husband to make you a wife :
Now comes the wanton blood up in your cheeks,
They '11 be in scarlet straight at any news.
Hie you to church ; I must another way,
To fetch a ladder, by the which your love
Must climb a bird s nest soon when it is dark :
I am the drudge, and toil in your delight ;
But you shall bear the burden soon at night.
Go ; I '11 to dinner ; hie you to the cell.
Jul. Hie to high fortune ! honest nurse,
farewell. [Exeunt.
SCENE VI. FRIAR LAWRENCE'S Cell.
Enter FRIAR LAWRENCE and ROMEO.
Fri. L. So smile the heavens upon this holy
act
That after-hours with sorrow chide us not !
Rom. Amen, amen ! but come what sorrow
can,
It cannot countervail the exchange of joy
That one short minute gives me in her sight :
Do thou but close our hands with holy words,
Then love-devouring death do what he dare,
It is enough I may but call her mine. [ends,
Fri. L. These violent delights have violent
And in their triumph die ; like fire and powder,
Which, as they kiss, consume : the sweetest
honey
Is loathsome in his own deliciousness,
And in the taste confounds the appetite:
Therefore love moderately ; long love doth so ;
Too swift arrives as tardy as too slow.
Here comes the lady : O, so light - f oot
Will ne'er wear out the everlasting iiint :
A lover may bestride the gossamer
That idles in the wanton summer air
And yet not fall ; so light is vanity
j&a^JtJtiET.
Jul. Good-even to my ghostly confessor.
Fri. L. Romeo shall thank thee, daughter,
for us both. [much.
Jul. As much to him, else is his thanks too
SCENE VI.}
ROMEO AND JULIET.
1081
Rom. Ah, Juliet, if the measure of thy joy
Be heap'd like mine, and that thy skill be more
To blazon it, then sweeten with thy breath
This neighbour air, and let rich music's tongue
Unfold the imagin'd happiness that both
Receive in either by this dear encounter.
ful. Conceit, more rich in matter than in
words,
Brags of his substance, not of ornament :
They are but beggars that can count their
worth ;
But my true love is grown to such excess,
T cannot sum up half my sum of wealth.
Frt. L. Come, come with me, and we will
make r^ort work ;
For, by your leaves, you shall not stay alone
Till holy church incorporate two in one.
[Exeunt.
ACT III.
SCENE \.~Apublic Place.
Enter MERCUTIO, BENVOLIO, Page, and
Servants.
Ben. I pray thee, good Mercutio, let 's retire :
The day is hot, the Capulets abroad,
And, if we meet, we shall not scape a brawl ;
For now, these hot days, is the mad blood
stirring.
Mer. Thou art like one of those fellows that,
when he enters the confines of a tavern, claps
me his sword upon the table, and says, God
send me no need of thee! and by the operation
of the second cup draws it on the drawer, when,
indeed, there is no need.
Ben. Am I like such a fellow ?
Mer. Come, come, thou art as hot a Jack in
thy mood as any in Italy ; and as soon moved
to be moody, and as soon moody to be moved.
Ben. And what to ?
Mer. Nay, an there were two such, we
should have none shortly, for one would kill
the other. Thou ! why, thou wilt quarrel with
a man that hath a hair more or a hair less
in his beard than thou hast. Thou wilt quar-
rel with a man for cracking nuts, having no
other reason but because thou hast hazel eyes ;
what eye but such an eye would spy out such
a quarrel ? Thy head is as full of quarrels as
an egg is full of meat ; and yet thy head hath
been beaten as addle as an egg for quarrelling.
Thou hast quarrelled with a man for coughing
in the street, because he hath wakened thy dog
that hath lain asleep in the sun. Didst thou
not fall out with a tailor for wearing his new
doublet before Easter ? with another for tying
his new shoes with old riband ? and yet thou
wilt tutor me from quarrelling I
Ben. An I were so apt to quarrel as thou art,
any man should buy the fee-simple of my life
for an hour and a quarter.
Mer. The fee-simple ! O simple !
Ben. By my head, here come the Capulets.
Mer. By my l.ccl, I care not.
Enter TYBALT and others.
Tyb. Follow me close, for I will speak to
them. Gentlemen, good-den: a word with
one of you.
Mer. And but one word with one of us?
Couple it with something ; make it a word and
a blow.
Tyb. You shall find me apt enough to that,
sir, an you will give me occasion.
Mer. Could you not take some occasion with-
out giving?
Tyb. Mercutio, thou consort'st with Romeo,
Mer. Consort! what, dost thou make us
minstrels? An thou make minstrels of us,
look to hear nothing but discords: here's my
fiddlestick ; here 's that shall make you dance.
Zounds, consort !
Ben. We talk here in the public haunt of men:
Either withdraw unto some private place,
And reason coldly of your grievances,
Or else depart ; here all eyes gaze on us.
Mer. Men's eyes were made to look, and
let them gaze;
I will not budge for no man's pleasure, I.
Tyb. Well, peace with you, sir. Here comes
my man.
Enter ROMEO.
Mer. But I'll be hanged, sir, if he wear
your livery:
Marry, go before to field, he '11 be your follower;
Your worship in that sense may call him man.
Tyb. Romeo, the hate I bear thee can afford
No better term than this, Thou art a villain.
Rom. Tybalt, the reason that I have to love
thee
Doth much excuse the appertaining rage
To such a greeting. Villain am I none ;
Therefore, farewell ; I see thou know'st me not.
Tyb. Boy, this shall not excuse the injuries
That thou hast done me ; therefore turn and
draw.
Rom. I do protest I never injurM thee ;
But love thee better than thou canst devise
Till thou shalt know the reason of my love :
And so, good Capulet, which name I tendee
As dearly as my own.. be satisfied.
1082
ROMEO AND JULIET.
[ACT III.
Mer. O calm, dishonourable, vile submission!
A la stoccata carries it away. [Draws.
Tybalt, you rat-catcher, will you walk ?
Tyb. What wouldst thou have with me ?
Mer. Good king of cats, nothing but one of
your nine lives; that I mean to make bold
withal, and, as you shall use me hereafter, dry-
beat the rest of the eight. Will you pluck your
sword out of his pilcher by the ears? make
haste, lest mine be about your ears ere it be out.
Tyb. I am for you. [Drawing.
Rom. Gentle Mercutio, put thy rapier up.
Mer. Come, sir, your passado. [ 7 hey fight.
Rom. Draw, Benvolio ; beat down their
weapons.
Gentlemen, for shame, forbear this outrage !
Tybalt, Mercutio, the prince expressly hath
Forbidden bandying in Verona streets.
Hold, Tybalt ! good Mercutio.
[Exeunt TYBALT and his Partizans.
Mer. I am hurt ;
A plague o' both your houses ! I am sped.
Is he gone, and hath nothing ?
Ben. What, art thou hurt ?
Mer. Ay, ay, a scratch, a scratch ; marry,
'tis enough.
Where is my page? go, villain, fetch a surgeon.
[Exit ~
Rom. Courage, man ; the hurt cannot
much.
Mer. No, 'tis not so deep as a well, nor so
wide as a church-door ; but 'tis enough, 'twill
serve : ask for me to-morrow, and you shall
find me a grave man. I am peppered, I war-
rant, for this world. A plague o' both your
houses ! Zounds, a dog, a rat, a mouse, a cat,
to scratch a man to death ! a braggart, a rogue,
a villain, that fights by the book of arithmetic !
Why the devil came you between us ? I was
hurt under your arm.
Rom. I thought all for the best.
Mer. Help me into some house, Benvolio,
Or I shall faint. A plague o' both your houses!
They have made wonn's meat of me :
I have it, and soundly too. Your houses !
[Exeunt MERCUTIO and BENVOLIO.
Rom. This gentleman, the prince's near ally,
My very friend, hath got his mortal hurt
In my behalf ; my reputation stain'd
With Tybalt's slander, Tybalt, that an hour
Hath been my kinsman. O sweet Juliet,
Thy beauty hath made me effeminate,
And in my temper soften'd valour's steel.
Re-enter BENVOLIO.
Ben. O Romeo, Romeo, brave Mercutio 's
dead!
That gallant spirit hath aspir'd the clouds,
Which too untimely here did scorn the earth.
Rom. This day's black fate on more days
doth depend ;
This but begins the woe others must end.
Ben. Here comes the furious Tybalt back
again.
Rom. Alive, in triumph ! and Mercutio slain !
Away to heaven, respective lenity,
And fire-ey'd fury be my conduct now !
Re-enter TYBALT.
Now, Tybalt, take the villain back again
That late thou gav'st me ; for Mercutio's soul
Is but a little way above our heads,
Staying for thine to keep him company :
Either thou or I, or both, must go with him.
Tyb. Thou, wretched boy, that didst consort
him here,
Shalt with him hence.
Rom. This shall determine that.
[7 hey fight ; TYBALT falls.
Ben. Romeo, away, be gone !
The citizens are up, and Tybalt slain.
Stand not amaz'd. The prince will doom thee
death
If thou art taken. Hence, be gone, away !
Rom. O, I am fortune's fool !
Ben. Why dost thou stay?
[Exit ROMEO.
Enter Citizens, &>c.
I Cit. Which way ran he that kill'd Mercutio?
Tybalt, that murderer, which way ran he?
Ben. There lies that Tybalt.
i Cit. Up, sir, go with me ;
I charge thee in the prince's name, obey.
Enter PRINCE, attended; MONTAGUE, CAPU-
LET, their Wives, and others.
Prin. Where are the vile beginners of this
fray?
Ben. O noble prince, I can discover all
The unlucky manage of this fatal brawl :
There lies the man, slain by young Romeo,
That slew thy kinsman, brave Mercutio.
Lady C. Tybalt, my cousin ! O my brother's
child !
O prince ! O husband ! O, the blood is spill'd
Of my dear kinsman ! Prince, as thou art true,
For blood of ours shed blood of Montague.
O cousin, cousin I
Prin. Benvolio, who began this bloody fray?
Ben. Tybalt, here slain, whom Romeo's hand
did slay ;
Romeo that spoke him fair, bade him bethink
How nice the quarrel was, and urg'd withal
SCENE II.]
ROMEO AND JULIET.
1083
Your high displeasure. All this, uttered
With gentle breath, calm look, knees humbly
bow'd,
Could not take truce with the unruly spleen
Of Tybalt, deaf to peace, but that he tilts
With piercing steel at bold Mercutio's breast ;
Who, all as hot, turns deadly point to point,
And, with a martial scorn, with one hand beats
Cold death aside, and with the other sends
It back to Tybalt, whose dexterity
Retorts it : Romeo he cries aloud,
Hold, friends! friends, part! and, swifter than
his tongue,
His agile arm beats down their fatal points,
And 'twixt them rushes; underneath whose arm
An envious thrust from Tybalt hit the life
Of stout Mercutio, and then Tybalt fled :
But by and by comes back to Romeo,
Who had but newly entertain'd revenge,
And to 't they go like lightning ; for ere I
Could draw to part them was stout Tybalt slain ;
And as he fell did Romeo turn and fly.
This is the truth, or let Benvolio die.
Lady C. He is a kinsman to the Montague,
Affection makes him false, he speaks not true :
Some twenty of them fought in this black strife,
And all those twenty could but kill one life.
I beg for justice, which thou, prince, must give ;
Romeo slew Tybalt, Romeo must not live.
Prin. Romeo slew him, he slew Mercutio :
Who now the price of his dear blood doth owe?
Mon. Not Romeo, prince, he was Mercutio's
friend ; [end,
His fault concludes but what the law should
The life of Tybalt.
Prin. And for that offence,
Immediately we do exile him hence :
I have an interest in your hate's proceeding,
My blood for your rude brawls doth lie a-
bleeding ;
But I '11 amerce you with so strong a fine
That you shall all repent the loss of mine :
I will be deaf to pleading and excuses ;
Nor tears nor prayers shall purchase out abuses,
Therefore use none : let Romeo hence in haste,
Else when he 's found, that hour is his last.
Bear hence this body, and attend our will :
Mercy but murders, pardoning those that kill.
[Exeunt.
SCENE II. A Room in CAPULET'S House.
Enter JULIET.
Jul. Gallop apace, you fiery-footed steeds,
Towards Phoebus' lodging ; such a waggoner
As Phseton would whip you to the west,
And bring in cloudy night immediately.
Spread thy close curtain, love-performing night!
That rude day's eyes may wink, and Romeo
Leap to these arms, untalk'd of and unseen.
Lovers can see to do their amorous rites
By their own beauties : or if love be blind,
It best agrees with night. Come, civil night,
Thou sober-suited matron, all in black,
And learn me how to lose a winning match,
Play'd for a pair of stainless maidenhoods :
Hood my unmann'd blood, bating in my cheeks,
With thy black mantle ; till strange love, grown
bold,
Think true love acted simple modesty.
Come, night ; come, Romeo, come, thou day
in night ;
For thou wilt lie upon the wings of night
Whiter than new snow on a raven's back.
Come, gen tie night, come, loving black -brow'd
right,
Give me my Romeo ; and, when he shall die,
Take him and cut him out in little stars,
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 garish sun.
O, I have bought the mansion of a love,
But not possess : d it ; and, though I am sold,
Not yet enjoy'd : so tedious is this day,
As is the night before some festival
To an impatient child that hath new robes,
And may not wear them. O, here comes my
nurse, [speaks
And she brings news ; and every tongue that
But Romeo's name speaks heavenly eloquence.
Enter Nurse with cords.
Now, nurse, what news? What hast thou
there ? the cords
That Romeo bade thee fetch ?
Nurse. Ay, ay, the cords.
[Throws them down.
Jul. Ah me ! what news ? why dost thou
wring thy hands ? [he 's dead !
Nurse. Ah, well-a-day ! he's dead, he's dead,
We are undone, lady, we are undone !
Alack the day ! he 's gone, he 's kill'd, he 's
dead !
Jul. Can heaven be so envious?
Nurse. Romeo can,
Though heaven cannot. O Romeo, Romeo!
Who ever would have thought it ? Romeo !
Jul. What devil art thou, that dost torment
me thus ?
This torture should be roar'd in dismal hell.
Hath Romeo slain himself? say thou but I,
And thai bare vowel I shall poison more
Than the death-darting eye of cockatrice :
I am not I if there be such an I ;
io8 4
ROMEO AND JULIET.
[ACT in.
Or those eyes shut that make thee answer I.
If he be slain, say I ; or if not, no :
Brief sounds determine of my weal or woe.
Nurse. I saw the wound, I saw it with mine
eyes,
God save the mark ! here on his manly breast:
A piteous corse, a bloody piteous corse ;
Pale, pale as ashes, all bedaub'd in blood,
All in gore-blood ; I swooned at the sight.
JuL O, break, my heart I poor bankrupt,
break at once !
To prison, eyes, ne'er look on liberty !
Vile earth, to earth resign ; end motion here ;
And thou and Romeo press one heavy bier !
Nurse. O Tybalt, Tybalt ! the best friend I
hadl
O courteous Tybalt ! honest gentleman !
That ever I should live to see thee dead !
Jul. What storm is this that blows so contrary?
Is Romeo siaughter'd, and is Tybalt dead ?
My dear-lov'd cousin and my dearer lord ?
Then, dreadful trumpet, sound the general doom !
For who is living if those two are gone?
Nurse. Tybalt is gone, and Romeo banished;
Romeo that kill'd him, he is banished.
Jul. O God ! did Romeo's hand shed Tybalt's
blood?
Nurse. \\. did, it did ; alas the day, it did!
JuL O serpent heart, hid with a flowering face!
Did ever Dragon keep so fair a cave ?
Beautiful tyrant! fiend angelical !
Dove-feather'd raven! wolfish-ravening lamb!
Despised substance of divinest show!
Just opposite to what thou justly seem'st,
A damned saint, an honourable villain!
O nature, what hadst thou to do in hell
When thou didst bower the spirit of a fiend
In mortal paradise of such sweet flesh ?
Was ever book containing such vile matter
So fairly bound? O, that deceit should dwell
In such a gorgeous palace!
Nurse. There 's no trust,
No faith, no honesty in men ; all are perjur'd,
All forsworn, all naught, all dissemblers.
Ah, where 's my man? give me some aqua
vita. [old.
These griefs, these woes, these sorrows make me
Shame come to Romeo!
JuL Blister'd be thy tongue
For such a wish ! he was not born to shame :
Upon his brow shame is asham'd to sit ;
For 'tis a throne where honour may be crown'd
Sole monarch of the universal earth.
O, what a beast was I to chide at him!
Nurse. Will you speak well of him that kill'd
your cousin ? [husband ?
//. Shall I speak ill of him that is my
Ah, poor my lord, what tongue shall smooth
thy name, [it ?
When I, thy three-hours' wife, rnve mangled
But wherefore, villain, didst thou kill my
cousin ? [husband :
That villain cousin would have kill'd my
Back, foolish tears, back to your native spring ;
Your tributary drops belong to woe,
Which you, mistaking, offer up to joy.
My husband lives, that Tybalt would have
slain ; [husband :
And Tybalt 's dead, that would have slain my
All this is comfort ; wherefore weep I, then ?
Some word there was, worser than Tybalt's
death,
That murder'd me : I would forget it fain ;
But, O, it Dresses to my memory
Like damned guilty deeds to sinners' minds :
Tybalt is dead, and Romeo banished.
That banished, that one word banished,
Hath slain ten thousand Tybalts. Tybalt's
death
Was woe enough, if it had ended there :
Or, if sour woe delights in fellowship,
And needly will be rank'd with other griefs,
Why follow'd not, when she said Tybalt 's dead,
Thy father or thy mother, nay, or both,
Which modern lamentation might have mov'd?
But, with a rear-ward following Tybalt's death,
Romeo is banished, to speak that word
Is father, mother, Tybalt, Romeo, Juliet,
All slain, all dead: Romeo is banished,
There is no end, no limit, measure, bound,
In that word's death ; no words can that woe
sound.
Where is my father and my mother, nurse ?
Nurse. Weeping and wailing over Tybalt's
corse:
Will you go to them? I will bring you thither.
Jul. Wash they his wounds with tears : mine
shall be spent,
When theirs are dry, for Romeo's banishment.
Take up those cords. Poor ropes, you are
beguil'd,
Both you and I ; for Romeo is exil'd :
He made you for a highway to my bed ;
But I, a maid, die maiden-widowed.
Come, cords : come, nurse ; I '11 to my wedding-
bed ;
And death, not Romeo, take my maidenhead!
Nurse. Hie to your chamber, I '11 find Romec
To comfort you : I wot well where he is.
Hark ye, your Romeo will be here at night :
I '11 to him; he is hid at Lawrence' cell, [knight,
JuL O, find him ! give this ring to my true
And bid him come to take his last farewell.
[Exeunt.
SCENE III.]
ROMEO AND JULIET.
1085
SCENE III. FRIAR LAWRENCE'S CM.
Enter FRIAR LAWRENCE.
Fri. L. Romeo, come forth ; come forth,
thou fearful man :
Affliction is enamour'd of thy parts,
And thou art wedded to calamity.
Enter ROMEO.
Rom. Father, what news? what is the
prince's doom ?
What sorrow craves acquaintance at my hand,
That I yet know not ?
Fri. L. Too familiar
Is my dear son with such sour company :
I bring thee tidings of the prince's doom.
Rom. What less than doomsday is the prince's
doom? [lips,
Fri. L. A gentler judgment vanish'd from his
Not body's death, but body's banishment.
Rom. Ha, banishment! be merciful, say death;
For exile hath more terror in his look,
Much more than death: do not say banishment.
Fri. L. Hence from Verona art thou banished:
Be patient, for the world is broad and wide.
Rom. There is no world without Verona walls,
But purgatory, torture, hell itself.
Hence-banished is banish'd from the world,
And world's exile is death, then banished
Is death mis-term'd: calling death banishment,
Thou cutt'st my head off with a golden axe,
And snail' st upon the stroke that murders me.
Fri. L. O deadly sin! O rudeunthankfulness!
Thy fault our law calls death; but the kind prince,
Taking thy part, hath brush'd aside the law,
And turn'd that black word death to banishment:
This is dear mercy, and thou see'st it not. [here
Rom. ; Tis torture, and not mercy : heaven is
Where Juliet lives ; and every cat, and dog,
And little mouse, every unworthy thing,
Live here in heaven, and may look on her ;
But Romeo may not. More validity.
More honourable state, more courtship lives
In carrion flies than Romeo : they may seize
On the white wonder of dear Juliet's hand,
And steal immortal blessing from her lips ;
Who, even in pure and vestal modesty,
Still blush, as thinking their own kisses sin ;
But Romeo may not ; he is banished,
This may flies do, when I from this must fly.
And say'st thou yet that exile is not death J
Hadst thou no poison mix'd, no sharp-ground
knife, [mean,
No sudden mean of death, though ne'er so
But banished to kill me ; banished ?
O friar, the damned use that word in hell ;
Howlings attend it: how hast thou the heart,
Being a divine, a ghostly confessor,
A sin-absolver, and my friend profess'd,
To mangle me with that word banishment ?
Fri. L. Thou fond mad man, hear me speak
a little,
Rom. O, thou wilt speak again of banishment.
Fri. L. I'll give thee armour to keep off
that word ;
Adversity's sweet milk, philosophy,
To comfort thee, though thou art banished.
Rom. Yet banished? Hang up philosophy!
Unless philosophy can make a Juliet,
Displant a town, reverse a prince's doom,
It helps not, it prevails not, talk no more.
Fri. L. O, then I see that madmen have no
ears. [have no eyes?
Rom. How should they, when that wise men
Fri. L. Let me dispute with thee of thy estate.
Rom. Thou canst not speak of what thou
dost not feel :
Wert thou as young as I, Juliet thy love,
An hour but married, Tybalt murdered,
Doting like me, and like me banished,
Then mightst thou speak, then mightst thou
tear thy hair,
And fall upon the ground, as I do now,
Taking the measure of an unmade grave.
Fri. L. Arise ; one knocks ; good Romeo,
hide thyself. [Knocking within.
Rom. Not I ; unless the breath of heart-sick
groans,
Mist-like, enfold me from the search of eyes.
[Knocking.
Fri. L. Hark how they knock! Who's
there ? Romeo, arise ;
Thou wilt be taken. Stay awhile ; stand up ;
[Knocking.
Run to my study. By and by. God's will!
What simpleness is this! I come, I come.
[Knocking.
Who knocks so hard ? whence come you ?
what 's your will ?
Nurse. [Within.} Let me come in and you
shall know my errand ;
I come from Lady Juliet.
Fri. L. Welcome, then.
Enter Nurse.
Nurse. O holy friar, O, tell me, holy friar,
Where is my lady's lord, where 's Romeo?
Fri. L. There on the ground, with his own
tears made drunk.
Nurse. O, he is even in my mistress' case,
Just in her case !
Fri. L. O woeful sympathy I
Piteous predicament !
io86
ROMEO AND JULIET.
[ACT ni.
Nurse. Even so lies she, [ing.
Blubbering and weeping, weeping and blubber-
Stand up, stand up ; stand, an you be a man :
For Juliet's sake, for her sake, rise and stand ;
Why should you fall into so deep an O ?
Rom. Nurse !
Nurse. Ah, sir ! ah, sir ! Well, death 's the
end of all. [her ?
Rom. Spak'st thou of Juliet? how is it with
Doth she not think me an old murderer,
Now I have stain'd the childhood of our joy
With blood remov'd but little from her own ?
Where is she? and how doth she? and what says
My conceal'd lady to our cancell'd love ?
Nurse. O, she says nothing, sir, but weeps
and weeps ;
And now falls on her bed ; and then starts up,
And Tybalt calls ; and then on Romeo cries,
And then down falls again.
Rom. As if that name,
Shot from the deadly level of a gun,
Did murder her ; as that name's cursed hand
Murder'd her kinsman. O, tell me, friar, tell me,
In what vile part of this anatomy
Doth my name lodge? tell me that I may sack
The hateful mansion. [Drawing his sword.
Fri. L. Hold thy desperate hand :
Art thou a man? thy form cries out thou art :
Thy tears are womanish ; thy wild acts denote
The unreasonable fury of a beast :
Unseemly woman in a seeming man !
Or ill-beseeming beast in seeming both !
Thou hast amaz'd me: by my holy order,
I thought thy disposition better temper'd.
Hast thou slain Tybalt? wilt thou slay thyself?
And slay thy lady, too, that lives in thee,
By doing damned hate upon thyself?
Why rail'st thou on thy birth, the heaven, and
earth ? [meet
Since birth, and heaven and earth, all three do
In thee at once ; which thou at once wouldst
lose. [wit ;
Fie, fie ! thou sham'st thy shape, thy love, thy
Which, like a usurer, abound'st in all,
And usest none in that true use indeed [wit :
Which should bedeck thy shape, thy love, thy
Thy noble shape is but a form of wax,
Digressing from the valour of a man ;
Thy dear love sworn, but hollow perjury,
Killing that love which thou hast vow'd to
cherish ;
Thy wit, that ornament to shape and love,
Mis-shapen in the conduct of them both,
Like powder in a skilless soldier's flask,
Is set a-fire by thine own ignorance,
And thou dismember'd with thine own defence.
What, rouse thee, man ! thy Juliet is alive,
For whose dear sake thou wast but lately dead;
There art thou happy : Tybalt would kill thee,
But thou slew'st Tybalt ; there art thou happy
too: [friend,
The law, that threaten'd death, becomes thy
And turns it to exile ; there art thou happy :
A pack of blessings lights upon thy back ;
Happiness courts thee in her best array ;
But, like a misbehav'd and sullen wench,
Thou pout'st upon thy fortune and thy love:
Take heed, take heed, for such die miserable.
Go, get thee to thy love, as was decreed,
Ascend her chamber, hence and comfort her :
But, look, thou stay not till the watch be set,
For then thou canst not pass to Mantua ;
Where thou shalt live till we can find a time
To blaze your marriage, reconcile your friends,
Beg pardon of the prince, and call thee back
With twenty hundred thousand times more joy
Than thou went'st forth in lamentation.
Go before, nurse : commend me to thy lady ;
And bid her hasten all the house to bed,
Which heavy sorrow makes them apt unto:
Romeo is coming. [the night
Nurse. O Lord, I could have stay'd here all
To hear good counsel : O, what learning is !
My lord, I '11 tell my lady you will come.
Rom. Do so, and bid my sweet prepare to
chide. [sir :
Nurse. Here, sir, a ring she bid me give you,
Hie you, make haste, for it grows very late.
\_Exit.
Rom. How well my comfort is reviv'd by this !
Fri. L. Go hence; good-night; and here
stands all your state :
Either be gone before the watch be set,
Or by the break of day disguis'd from hence :
Sojourn in Mantua; I '11 find out your man,
And he shall signify from time to time
Every good hap to you that chances here :
Give me thy hand; 'tis late: farewell; good-
night.
Rom. But that a joy past joy calls out on me,
It were a grief so brief to part with thee :
Farewell. [Exeunt.
SCENE IV. A Room in CAPULET'S House.
Enter CAPULET, LADY CAPULET and PARIS.
Cap. Things have fallen out, sir, so unluckily
That we have had no time to move our daughter:
Look you, she lov'd her kinsman Tybalt dearly,
And so did I ; well, we were born to die.
'Tis very late, she '11 not come down to-night :
I promise you, but for your company,
I would have been a-bed an hour ago.
SCENE V.]
ROMEO AND JULIET.
1087
Par. These times of woe afford no time to
woo. [daughter.
Madam, good-night: commend me to your
Lady C. I will, and know her mind early
to-morrow ;
To-night she 's mew'd up to her heaviness.
Cap. Sir Paris, I will make a desperate tender
Of my child's love : I think she will be rul'd
In all respects by me ; nay, more, I doubt it
not.
Wife, go you to her ere you go to bed ;
Acquaint her here of my son Paris' love ;
And bid her, mark you me, on Wednesday
next,
But, soft ! what day is this?
Par. Monday, my lord.
Cap. Monday! ha, ha! Well, Wednesday
is too soon,
O' Thursday let it be ; o' Thursday, tell her,
She shall be married to this noble earl.
Will you be ready? do you like this haste?
We '11 keep no great ado, a friend or two;
For, hark you, Tybalt being slain so late,
It may be thought we held him carelessly,
Being our kinsman, if we revel much :
Therefore we '11 have some half a dozen friends,
And there an end. But what say you to Thurs-
day? [to-morrow.
Par. My lord, I would that Thursday were
Cap. Well, get you gone : o' Thursday be it
then.
Go you to Juliet ere you go to bed,
Prepare her, wife, against this wedding-day.
Farewell, my lord. Light to my chamber, ho!
Afore me, it is so very very late
That we may call it early by and by.
Good-night. [Exeunt.
SCENE V.An open Gallery to JULIET'S
Chamber, overlooking the Garden.
Enter ROMEO and JULIET.
JuL Wilt thou be gone? it is not yet near
day:
It was the nightingale, and not the lark,
That pierc'd the fearful hollow of thine ear ;
Nightly she sings on yon pomegranate tree :
Believe me, love, it was the nightingale.
Rom. It was the lark, the herald of the morn,
No nightingale : look, love, what envious streaks
Dp lace the severing clouds in yonder east :
Night's candles are burnt out, and jocund day
Stands tiptoe on the misty mountain tops.
I must be gone and live, or stay and die.
Jul. Yon light is not daylight, I know it, I :
It is some meteor that the sun exhales,
To be to thee this night a torch-bearer,
And light thee on thy way to Mantua :
Therefore stay yet, thou need'st not to be gone.
Rom. Let me be ta'en, let me be put to death;
I am content, so thou wilt have it so.
I '11 say yon gray is not the morning's eye,
Tis but the pale reflex of Cynthia's brow;
Nor that is not the lark whose notes do beat
The vaulty heaven so high above our heads :
I have more care to stay than will to go.
Come, death, and welcome ! Juliet wills it so.
How is 't, my soul ? let 's talk, it is not day.
Jul. It is, it is, hie hence, be gone, away !
It is the lark that sings so out of tune,
Straining harsh discords and unpleasing sharps.
Some say the lark makes sweet division ;
This doth not so, for she divideth us :
Some say the lark and loathed toad change eyes;
O, now I would they had chang*d voices too !
Since arm from arm that voice doth us affray,
Hunting thee hence with hunt's-up to the day.
O, now be gone ; more light and light it grows.
Rom. More light and light, more dark and
dark our woes !
Enter Nurse.
Nurse. Madam !
ful. Nurse ? [chamber :
Nurse. ^ Your lady mother is coming to your
The day is broke ; be wary, look about.
[Exit.
Jul. Then, window, let day in and let life out.
Rom. Farewell, farewell ! one kiss, and I '11
descend. [Descends.
/ut. Art thou gone so? my lord, my love,
my friend !
I must hear from thee every day i' the hour,
For in a minute there are many days :
O, by this count I shall be much in years
Ere I again behold my Romeo !
Rom. Farewell !
I will omit no opportunity
That may convey my greetings, love, to thee.
Jul. O, think'st thou we shall ever meet
again ? [shall serve
Rom. I doubt it not ; and all these woes
For sweet discourses in our time to come.
r ul. O God ! I have an ill-divining soul !
Rethinks I see thee, now thou art below,
As one dead in the bottom of a tomb :
Either my eyesight fails or thou look'st pale.
Rom. And trust me, love, in my eye so do
you:
Dry sorrow drinks our blood. Adieu, adieu !
[Exit below.
JuL O fortune, fortune ! all men call thee
fickle :
If thou art fickle, what dost thou with him
J*
Metl
io88
ROMEO AND JULIET.
[ACT HI.
That is renown'd for faith ? Be fickle, fortune ;
For then, I hope, thou wilt not keep him long,
But send him back. [up ?
Lady C. [Within.] Ho, daughter! are you
Jul. Who is't that calls? is it my lady
mother ?
Is she not down so late, or up so early ?
What unaccustom'd cause procures her hither ?
Enter LADY CAPULET.
Lady C. Why, how now, Juliet !
Jul. Madam, I am not well.
Lady C. Evermore weeping for your cousin's
death? [tears?
What, wilt thou wash him from his grave with
An if thou couldst, thou couldst not make him
live ; [love ;
Therefore have done : some grief shows much of
But much of grief shows still seme want of wit.
Jul. Yet let me weep for such a feeling loss.
Lady C. So shall you feel the loss, but not
the friend
Which you weep for.
Jul. Feeling so the loss,
I cannot choose but ever weep the friend.
Lady C. Well, girl, thou weep'st not so much
for his death
As that the villain lives which slaughter^ him.
Jul. What villain, madam ?
Lady C. That same villain, Romeo.
Jul. Villain and he be many miles asunder.
God pardon hirr ! I do, with all my heart ;
And yet no man like he doth grieve my heart.
Lady C. That is because the traitor mur-
derer lives. [hands.
Jul. Ay, madam, from the reach of these my
Would none but I might venge my cousin's
death !
Lady C. We will have vengeance for it, fear
thou not :
Then weep no more. I'll send to one in
Mantua,
Where that same banish'd runagate doth live,
Shall give him such an unaccustom'd dram
That he shall soon keep Tybalt company :
And then I hope thou wilt be satisfied.
Jul. Indeed I never shall be satisfied
With Romeo till I behold him dead-
Is my poor heart so for a kinsman vex'd :
Madam, if you could find out but a man
To bear a poison, I would temper it,
That Romeo should, upon receipt thereof,
Soon sleep in quiet. O, how my heart abhors
To hear him nam'd, and cannot come to
him,
To wreak the love I bore my cousin Tybalt
Upon his body that hath slaughtered him I
Lady C. Find thou the means, and I '11 find
such a man.
But now I '11 tell thee joyful tidings, girl.
Jttl. And joy comes well in such a needy time:
What are they, I beseech your ladyship ?
Lady C. Well, well, thou hast a careful
father, child ;
One who, to put thee from thy heaviness,
Hath sorted out a sudden day of joy
That thou expect'st not, nor I look'd not for.
Jul. Madam, in happy time, what day is that ?
Lady C. Marry, my child, early next Thurs-
day morn
The gallant, young, and noble gentleman,
The County Paris, at St. Peter's Church,
Shall happily make thee there a joyful bride.
Jul. Now, by St. Peter's Church, and Peter
too,
He shall not make me there a joyful bride.
I wonder at this haste ; that I must wed
Ere he that should be husband comes to woo.
I pray you, tell my lord and father, madam,
I will not marry yet ; and when I do, I swear
It shall be Romeo, whom you know I hate,
Rather than Paris : these are news indeed !
Lady C. Here comes your father ; tell him
so yourself,
And see how he will take it at your hands.
Enter CAPULET and Nurse.
Cap. When the sun sets, the air doth drizzle
dew;
But for the sunset of my brother's son
It rains downright
How now ! a conduit, girl? what, still in tears?
Evermore showering? In one little body
Thou counterfeit'st a bark, a sea, a wind :
For still thy eyes, which I may call the sea,
Do ebb and flow with tears ; the bark thy body
is,
Sailing in this salt flood ; the winds thy sighs ;
Who, raging with thy tears, and they with
them,
Without a sudden calm, will overset
Thy tempest-tossed body. How now, wife !
Have you deliver'd to her our decree?
Lady C. Ay, sir; but she will none, she
gives you thanks.
I would the fool were married to her grave !
Cap. Soft ! take me with you, take me with
you, wife. [thanks?
How! will she none? doth she not give us
Is she not proud? doth she not count herbless'd,
Unworthy as she is, that we have wrought
So worthy a gentleman to be her bridegroom?
Jul. Not proud you have; but thankful that
you have :
SCENE V.]
ROMEO AND JULIET.
1089
Proud can I never be of what I hate ;
But thankful even for hate that is meant love.
Cap. How now, how now, chop-logic ! What
is this? [not ;
Proud, and, I thank you, and, I thank you
And yet not proud : mistress minion, you,
Thank me no thankings, nor proud me no
prouds,
But fettle your fine joints 'gainst Thursday next,
To go with Paris to St. Peter's Church,
Or I will drag thee on a hurdle thither, [gage !
Out, you green-sickness carrion ! out, you bag-
You tallow-face !
Lady C. Fie, fie ! what, are you mad ?
Jill. Good father, I beseech you on my knees,
Hear me with patience but to speak a word.
Cap. Hang thee, young baggage ! disobedient
wretch ! [day,
I tell thee what. get thee to church o' Thurs-
Or never after look me in the face :
Speak not, reply not, do not answer me ;
My fingers itch. Wife, we scarce thought us
bless'd
That God had lent us but this only child;
But now I see this one is one too much,
And that we have a curse in having her :
Out on her, hilding !
Nurse. God in heaven bless her !
You are to blame, my lord, to rate her so.
Cap. And why, my lady wisdom ? hold your
tongue,
Good prudence ; smatter with your gossips, go.
Nurse. I speak no treason.
Cap. O, God ye good-den !
Nurse. May not one speak ?
Cap. Peace, you mumbling fool !
Utter your gravity o'er a gossip's bowl,
For here we need it not.
Lady C. You are too hot.
Cap. God's bread ! it makes me mad :
Day, night, hour, tide, time, work, play,
Alone, in company, still my care hath been
To have her match'd, and having now provided
A gentleman of noble parentage,
Of fair demesnes, youthful, and nobly train'd,
Stuff d, as they say, with honourable parts,
Proportion'd as one's heart could wish a man,
And then to have a wretched puling fool,
A whining mammet, in her fortune's tender,
To answer, /'// not wed, / cannot love,
I am too young, I pray you pardon me ;
But, an you will not wed, I '11 pardon you :
Graze where you will, you shall not house with
me :
Look to 't, think on 't, I do not use to jest.
Thursday is near ; lay hand on heart, advise :
An you be mine, I '11 give you to my friend ;
An you be not, hang, beg, starve, die i' the
streets,
For, by my soul, I '11 ne'er acknowledge thee,
Nor what is mine shall never do thee good :
Trust to 't, bethink you, I '11 not be forsworn.
{Exit.
Jul. Is there no pity sitting in the clouds,
That sees into the bottom of my grief?
O, sweet my mother, cast me not away !
Delay this marriage for a month, a week ;
Or, if you do not, make the bridal bed
In that dim monument where Tybalt lies.
Lady C. Talk not to me, for I '11 not speak
a word ;
Do as thou wilt, for I have done with thee.
{Exit.
Jul. O God ! O nurse ! how shall this be
prevented ?
My husband is on earth, my faith in heaven ;
How shall that faith return again to earth,
Unless that husband send it me from heaven
By leaving earth ? comfort me, counsel rue.
Alack, alack, that heaven should practise
stratagems
Upon so soft a subject as myself! tjy?
What say'st thou ? hast thou not a word of
Some comfort, nurse.
Nurse. Faith, here 'tis : Romeo
Is banished ; and all the world to nothing
That he dares ne'er come back to challenge you :
Or, if he do, it needs must be by stealth.
Then, since the case so stands as now it doth,
I think it best you married with the county.
O, he 's a lovely gentleman !
Romeo 's a dishqjput to him ; an eagle, madam,
Hath not so green, so quick, so fair an eye
As Paris hath. Beshrew my very heart,
I think you are happy in this second match,
For it excels your first : or if it did not,
Your first is dead ; or 'twere as good he were,
As living here, and you no use of him.
Jul. Speakest thou from thy heart ?
Nurse. From my soul too,
Or else beshrew them both.
Jul. Amen !
Nurse. What ?
Jul. Well, thou hast comforted me marvel-
lous much.
Go in ; and tell my lady I am gone,
Having displeas'd my father, to Lawrence' ceU
To make confession, and to be absolv'd.
Nurse. Marry, I will ; and this is wisely
done. [Exit.
Jul. Ancient damnation ! O most wicked
fiend!
Is it more sin to wish me thus forsworn,
Or to dispraise my lord with that same tongue
2 M
logo
ROMEO AND JULIET.
[ACT IV.
Which she hath prais'J him wiJi above compare
00 many thousand time.- ; Go, counsellor ;
Thou and my bosom henceforth shall be
twain.
1 '11 to the friar, to know his remedy ;
If all else fail, myself have power to die.
[Exit.
ACT IV.
SCENE I. FRIAR LAWRENCE'S Cell.
Enter FRIAR LAWRENCE and PARIS.
Fri. L. On Thursday, sir ? the time is very
short.
Par. My father Capulet will have it so ;
And I am nothing slow to slack his haste.
Fri. L. You say you do not know the lady's
mind :
Uneven is the course, I like it not. [death,
Par. Immoderately she weeps for Tybalt's
And therefore have I little talk'd of love ;
For Venus smiles not in a house of tears.
Now, sir, her father counts it dangerous
That she doth give her sorrow so much sway ;
And, in his wisdom ^ hastes our marriage,
To stop the inundation of her tears ;
Which, too much minded by herself alone,
May be put from her by society :
Wow do you know the reason of this haste.
Fri. L. [Aside.] I would I knew not why it
should be slow'd.
Look, sir, here comes the lady towards my cell.
Enter JULIET.
Par. Happily met, my lady and my wife !
Jul. That may be, sir, when I may be a wife
Par. That may be must be, love, on Thurs-
day next.
Jul. What must be shall be.
Fri. L. That 's a certain text.
Par. Come you to make confession to this
father?
Jul. To answer that, I should confess to you.
Par. Do not deny to him that you love me.
Jul. I will confess to you that I love him.
Par. So will ye, I am sure, that you love me.
Jul. If I do so, it will be of more price
Being spoke behind your back than to your face.
Par. Poor soul, thy face is much abus'd with
tears.
Jul. The tears have got small victory by that ;
For it was bad enough before their spite.
Par. Thou wrong'st it more than tears with
that report.
Jul. That is no slander, sir, which is a truth ;
And what I spake I spake it to my face.
Par. Thy face is mine, and thou hast slan-
der'd it.
JuL It may be so, for it is not mine own.
Are you at leisure, holy father, now ;
Or shall I come to you at evening mass?
Fri. L. My leisure serves me, pensive
daughter, now.
My lord, we must entreat the time alone.
Par. God shield 1 should disturb devotion !
Juliet, on Thursday early will I rouse you :
Till then, adieu ; and keep this holy kiss.
[Exit.
Jul. O, shut the door ! and when thou hast
done so, [help !
Come weep with me ; past hope, past cure, past
Fri. L. Ah, Tuliet, I already know thy grief;
It strains me past the compass of my wits :
I hear thou must, and nothing may prorogue it,
On Thursday next be married to this county.
JuL Tell me not, friar, that thou hear'st of
this,
Unless thou tell me how I may prevent it :
If, in thy wisdom, thou canst give no help,
Do thou but call my resolution wise,
And with this knife I '11 help it presently.
God join'd my heart and Romeo's, thou our
hands ;
And ere this hand, by thee to Romeo seal'd,
Shall be the label to another deed,
Or my true heart with treacherous revolt
Turn to another, this shall slay them both :
Therefore, out of thy long-experienc'd time,
Give me some present counsel ; or, behold,
'Twixt my extremes and me this bloody knife
Shall play the umpire ; arbitrating that
Which the commission of thy years and art
Could to no issue of true honour bring.
Be not so long to speak ; I long to die,
If what thou speak'st speak not of remedy.
Fri. L. Hold, daughter : I do spy a kind of
hope,
Which craves as desperate an execution
As that is desperate which we would prevent.
If, rather than to marry County Paris,
Thou hast the strength of will to slay thyself,
Then is it likely thou wilt undertake
A thing like death to chide away this shame.
That cop'st with death himself to scape from it;
And, if thou dar'st, 1 7 11 give thee remedy.
Jul. O, bid me leap, rather than marry Paris,
From off the battlements of yonder tower ;
Or walk in thievish ways ; or bid me lurk
Where serpents are; chain me with roaring
bears ;
Or shut me nightly in a charnel-house,
O'er-cover'd quite with dead men's rattling
bones,
SCENE II. j
ROMEO AND JULIET.
1091
With reeky shanks, and yellow chapiess skulls;
Or bid me go into a new-made grave,
And hide me with a dead man in his shroud ;
Things that, to hear them told, have made me
tremble ;
And I will do it without fear or doubt,
To live an unstain'd wife to my sweet love.
Fri. L. Hold, then ; go home, be merry,
gire consent
To marry Paris ; Wednesday is to-morrow ;
To-morrow night look that thou lie alone,
Let not thy nurse lie with thee in thy chamber:
Take thou this vial, being then in bed,
And this distilled liquor drink thou off: [run
When, presently, through all thy veins shall
A cold and drowsy humour ; for no pulse
Shall keep his native progress, but surcease :
No warmth, no breath, shall testify thou liv'st;
The roses in thy lips and cheeks shall fade
To paly ashes ; thy eyes' windows fall,
Like death, when he shuts up the day of life ;
Each part, depriv'd of supple government,
Shall, stiff and stark and cold, appear like death:
And in this borrow'd likeness of shrunk death
Thou shall continue two-and-forty hours,
And then awake as from a pleasant sleep.
Now, when the bridegroom in the morning
comes
To rouse thee from thy bed, there art thou dead:
Then, as the manner of our country is,
In thy best robes, uncover'd, on the bier,
Thou shall be borne to that same ancient vault
Where all the kindred of the Capulets lie.
In the meantime, against thou shalt awake,
Shall Romeo by my letters know our drift ;
And hither shall he come : and he and I
Will watch thy waking, and that very night
Shall Romeo bear thee hence to Mantua.
And this shall free thee from this present shame,
If no inconstant toy nor womanish fear
Abate thy valour in the acting it.
//. Give me, give me ! O, tell not me of fear!
Fri. L. Hold ; get you gone, be strong and
prosperous
In this resolve : I'll send a friar with speed
To Mantua, with my letters to thy lord.
//. Love give me strength ! and strength
shall help afford.^
Farewell, dear father ! [Exeunt.
SCENE ll.Hall in CAPO LET'S House.
Enter CAPULET, LADY CAPULET, Nurse, and
Servants.
Cap. So many guests invite as here are writ.
[Exit first Servant.
Sirrah, go hire me twenty cunning cooks.
2 Serv. You shall have none ill, sir; for I '11
try if they can lick their fingers.
'Cap. How canst thou try them so?
2 Serv. Marry, sir, 'tis an ill cook that
cannot lick his own fingers : therefore he that
cannot lick his fingers goes not with me.
Cap. Go, be gone. [Exit second Servant.
We shall be much unfurnish'd for this time.
What, is my daughter gone to Friar Lawrence?
Nurse. Ay, forsooth. [on her :
Cap. Well, he may chance to do some good
A peevish self-will'd harlotry it is.
Nurse. See where she comes from shrift with
merry look.
Enter JULIET.
Cap. How now, my headstrong ! where have
you been gadding? [sin
Jul. Where I have learn'd me to repent the
Of disobedient opposition
To you and your behests ; and am enjoin'd
By holy Lawrence to fall prostrate here,
And beg your pardon : pardon, I beseech you !
Henceforward I am ever rul'd by you. [this :
Cap. Send for the county ; go tell him of
I '11 have this knot knit up to-morrcw morning.
Jul. I met the youthful lord at Lawrence' cell j
And gave him what-becomed love I might,
Not stepping o'er the bounds of modesty.
Cap. Why, I am glad on 't ; this is well,
stand up,
This is as 't should be. Let me see the county ;
Ay, marry, go, I say, and fetch him hither.
Now, afore God, this reverend holy friar,
All our whole city is much bound to him.
//. Nurse, will you go with me into my
closet,
To help me sort such needful ornaments
As you think fit to furnish me to-morrow ?
Lady C. No, not till Thursday ; there is
time enough.
Cap. Go, nurse, go with her. We'll to
church to-morrow.
[Exeunt JULIET and Nurse.
Lady C. We shall be short in our provision :
'Tis now near night.
Cap. Tush, I will stir about,
And all things shall be well, I warrant thee,
wife:
Go thou to Juliet, help to deck up her ;
I '11 not to bed to-night; let me alone ; [ho!
I '11 play the housewife for this once. What,
They are all forth: well, I will walk myself
To County Paris, to prepare him up
Against to-morrow: my heart is wondrous light
Since this same wayward girl is so reclaim'd.
[Exeunt.
1092
ROMEO AND JULIET.
[ACT IV.
SCENE III. JULIET'S Chamber.
Enter JULIET and Nurse.
Jut. Ay, those attires are best : but, gentle
nurse,
I pray thee, leave me to myself to-night ;
For I have need of many orisons
To move the heavens to smile upon my state,
Which, well thou know'st, is cross and full of sin.
Enter LADY CAPULET.
Lady C. What, are you busy, ho? need you
my help? [saries
Jul. No, madam ; we have cull'd such neces-
As are behoveful for our state to-morrow :
So please you, let me now be left alone,
And let the nurse this night sit up with you ;
For I am sure you have your hands full all
In this so sudden business.
Lady C. Good-night:
Get thee to bed, and rest ; for thou hast need.
[Exeunt LADY CAPULET and Nurse.
ful. Farewell! God knows when we shall
meet again.
I have a faint cold fear thrills through my veins,
That almost freezes up the heat of life :
I '11 call them back again to comfort me ;
Nurse ! What should she do here ?
My dismal scene I needs must act alone.
Come, vial.
What if this mixture do not work at all ?
Shall I be married, then, to-morrow morning?
No, no ; this shall forbid it : lie thou there.
[Laying down her dagger.
What if it be a poison, which the friar
Subtly hath minister'd to have me dead,
Lest in this marriage he should be dishonour'd,
Because he married me before to Romeo ?
I fear it is : and yet methinks it should not,
For he hath still been tried a holy man :
I will not entertain so bad a thought.
How if, when I am laid into the tomb,
I wake before the time that Romeo
Come to redeem me? there 's a fearful point !
Shall I not then be stifled in the vault, [in,
To whose foul mouth no healthsome air breathes
And there die strangled ere my Romeo comes?
Or, if I live, is it not very like
The horrible conceit of death and night,
Together with the terror of the place,
As in a vault, an ancient receptacle, [bones
Where, for these many hundred years, the
Of all my buried ancestors are pack'd ;
Where bloody Tybalt, yet but green in earth,
Lies festering in his shroud ; where, as they say,
At some hours in the night spirits resort ;
Alack, alack, is it not like that I,
So early waking, what with loathsome smells,
And shrieks like mandrakes' torn out of the
earth,
That living mortals, hearing them, run mad;
O, if I wake, shall I not be distraught,
Environed with all these hideous fears ?
And madly play with my forefathers' joints?
And pluck the mangled Tybalt from his shroud?
And, in this rage, with some great kinsman's
bone, [brains ?
As with a club, dash out my desperate
O, look ! methinks I see my cousin's ghost
Seeking out Romeo, that did spit his body
Upon a rapier's point : stay, Tybalt, stay !
Romeo, I come ! this do I drink to thee.
[ Throws herself on the bed.
SCENE IV. Hall in CAPULET'S House.
Enter LADY CAPULET and Nurse.
Lady C. Hold, take these keys, and fetch
more spices, nurse.
Nurse. They call for dates and quinces in
the pastry.
Enter CAPULET.
Cap. Come, stir, stir, stir! the second cock
hath crow'd,
The curfew bell hath rung, 'tis three o'clock :
Look to the bak'd meats, good Angelica :
Spare not for cost.
Nttrse. Go, you cot-quean, go,
Get you to bed; faith, you '11 be sick to-morrow
For this night's watching. [ere now
Cap. No, not a whit : what ! I have watch'd
All night for lesser cause, and ne'er been sick.
Lady C. Ay, you have been a mouse-hunt in
your time ;
But I will watch you from such watching now.
[Exeunt LADY CAPULET and Nurse.
Cap. A jealous-hood, a jealous-hood ! Now,
fellow,
Enter Servants, -with spits, logs, and baskets.
What 's there ? [not what.
1 Serv. Things for the cook, sir ; but I know
Cap. Make haste, make haste. [Exit \ Serv. ]
Sirrah, fetch drier logs :
Call Peter, he will show thee where they are.
2 Serv. I have a head, sir, that will find out
logs,
And never trouble Peter for the matter. [Exit.
Cap. Mass, and well said ; a merry whoreson,
ha ! [day :
Thou shalt be logger-head. Good faith, 'tis
SCENE V.]
ROMEO AND JULIET.
1093
The county will be here with music straight,
For so he said he would: I hear him near.
[Music within.
Nurse! wife! what, ho! what, nurse, I say!
Re-enter Nurse.
Go waken Juliet, go and trim her up ;
I ; 11 go and chat with Paris : hie, make haste,
Make haste ; the bridegroom he is come already:
Make haste, I say. [Exeunt.
SCENE V. JULIET'S Chamber; JULIET on
the bed.
Enter Nurse.
Nurse. Mistress ! what, mistress ! Juliet !
fast, I warrant her, she :
Why, lamb! why, lady! fie, youslug-a-bed!
Why, love, I say! madam! sweetheart! why,
bride! [now;
What, not a word ? you take your pennyworths
Sleep for a week; for the next night, I warrant,
The County Paris hath set up his rest
That you shall rest but little. God forgive me,
Marry, and amen, how sound is she asleep !
I must needs wake her. Madam, madam,
madam!
Ay, let the county take you in your bed ;
He '11 fright you up, i' faith. Will it not be ?
What, dress'd ! and in your clothes ! and down
again !
I must needs wake you: lady! lady! lady!
Alas, alas! Help, help! my lady's dead !
O, well-a-day, that ever I was born !
Some aqua-vitse, ho! my lord ! my lady !
Enter LADY CAPULET.
Lady C. What noise is here ?
Nurse. O lamentable day!
Lady C. What is the matter ?
Nurse. Look, look! O heavy day!
Lady C. O me, O me ! my child, my only
life,
Revive, look up, or I will die with thee !
Help, help ! call help.
Enter CAPULET.
Cap. For shame bring Juliet forth ; her lord
is come.
Nurse. She 's dead, deceas'd, she 's dead; alack
the day !
Lady C. Alack the day, she's dead, she's
dead, she 's dead ! [cold ;
Cap. Ha! let me see her: out, alas! she's
Her blood is settled, and her joints are stiff ;
Life and these lips have long been separated :
Death lies on her like an untimely frost
Upon the sweetest flower of all the field.
Accursed time! unfortunate old man!
Nurse. O lamentable day!
Lady C. O woeful time !
Cap. Death, that hath ta'en her hence to
make me wail,
Ties up my tongue, and will not let me speak.
Enter FRIAR LAWRENCE and PARIS, with
Musicians.
Fri. L. Come, is the bride ready to go to
church ?
Cap. Ready to go, but never to return:
O son, the night before thy wedding-day
Hath death lain with thy bride: there she lies,
Flower as she was, deflowered by him.
Death is my son-in-law, death is my heir ;
My daughter he hath wedded : I will die,
And leave him all ; life, living, all is death's.
Par. Have I thought long to see this
morning's face,
And doth it give me such a sight as this? [day!
LadyC. Accurs'd, unhappy, wretched, hateful
Most miserable hour that e'er time saw
In lasting labour of his pilgrimage !
But one, poor one, one poor and loving child,
But one thing to rejoice and solace in,
And cruel death hath catch'd it from my sight!
Nurse. Owoe! O woeful, woeful, woeful day!
Most lamentable day, most woeful day,
That ever, ever, 1 did yet behold !
O day! O day! O day! O hateful day!
Never was seen so black a day as this :
O woeful day, O woeful day! [slain!
Par. Beguil'd, divorced, wronged, spited,
Most detestable death, by thee beguil'd,
By cruel cruel thee quite overthrown!
O love! O life! not life, but love in death!
Cap. Despis'd, distressed, hated, martyr'd,
kilt'd!
Uncomfortable time, why cam'st thou now
To murder, murder our solemnity? [child!
O child ! O child ! my soul, and not my
Dead art thou, dead ! alack, my child is dead ;
And with my child my joys are buried !
Fri. L. Peace, ho, for shame ! confusion's
cure lives not
In these confusions. Heaven and yourself
Had part in this fair maid; now heaven hath all,
And all the better is it for the maid :
Your part in her you could not keep from death;
But heaven keeps his part in eternal life.
The most you sought was her promotion ;
For 'twas your heaven she should be advanc'd :
And weep ye now, seeing she is advanc'd
Above the clouds, as high as heaven itself?
O, in this love, you love your child so ill
1094
ROMEO AND JULIET.
TACT v.
That you run mad, seeing that she is well :
She's not well married that lives married long;
But she 's best married that dies married young.
Dry up your tears, and stick your rosemary
On this fair corse ; and as the custom is,
In all her best array bear her to church :
For though fond nature bids us all lament,
Yet nature's tears are reason's merriment.
Cap. All things that we ordained festival
Turn from their office to black funeral :
Our instruments to melancholy bells ;
Our wedding cheer to a sad burial feast ;
Our solemn hymns to sullen dirges change ;
Our bridal flowers serve for a buried corse,
And all things change them to the contrary.
Fri. L. Sir, go you in, and, madam, go
with him ;
And go, Sir Paris ; every one prepare
To follow this fair corse unto her grave :
The heavens do lower upon you for some ill ;
Move them no more by crossing their high will.
[Exeunt C AP., LADY CAP., PARIS, and Friar.
I Mus. Faith, we may put up our pipes and
be gone. [put up ;
Nurse. Honest good fellows, ah, put up,
For, well you know, this is a pitiful case. [Exit.
i Mus. Ay, by my troth, the case may be
amended,
Enter PETER.
. _:?," \(
Pet. Musicians, O, musicians, Heart's ease,
Heart's ease: O, an you will have me live,
play Hearfs ease.
I Mus. Why Hearfs ease ?
Pet. O, musicians, because my heart itself
plays My heart is full of woe: O, play me some
merry dump to comfort me. [now.
i Mus. Not a dump we ; 'tis no time to play
Pet. You will not, then f
i Mus. No.
Pet. I will, then, give it you soundly.
I Mus. What will you give us ?
Pet. No money, on my faith ; but the gleek,
I will give you the minstrel. [creature.
I Mus. Then will I give you the serving-
Pet. Then will I lay the serving-creature's
dagger on your pate. I will carry no crotchets :
I '11 re you, I '11 7*0 you ; do you note me 1
1 Mus. An you re us and fa us, you note us.
2 Mus. Pray you, put up your dagger, and
put out your wit.
Pet. Then have at you with my wit ! I will
dry-beat you with an iron wit, and put up my
iron dagger. Answer me like men :
When griping grief the heart doth wound,
And doleful dumps the mind oppress,
Then music with her silver sound
why silver sound? why music with her silver
sound? What say you, Simon Catling 1
1 Mus. Marry, sir, because silver hath a
sweet sound.
Pet. Pretty ! What say you, Hugh Rebeck?
2 Mus. I say silver sound because musicians
sound for silver. [Sound-post ?
Pet. Pretty too ! What say you, James
3 Mus. Faith, I know not what to say.
Pet. O, I cry you mercy; you are the singer:
I will say for you. It is music with her silver
sound because musicians have no gold for
sounding :
Then music with her silver sound
With speedy help doth lend redress.
[Exit.
1 Mus. What a pestilent knave is this same !
2 Mus. Hang him, Jack ! Come, we '11 in
here ; tarry for the mourners, and stay dinner.
{Exeunt.
ACT V.
SCENE I. MANTUA. A Street.
Enter ROMEO.
Rom. If I may trust the flattering eye of sleep,
My dreams presage some joyful news at hand.'
My bosom's lord sits lightly in his throne ;
And all this day an unaccustom'd spirit
Lifts me above the ground with cheerful
thoughts.
I dreamt my lady came and found me dead,
Strange dream, that gives a dead man leave to
think !
And breath'd such life with kisses in my lips,
That I reviv'd, and was an emperor.
Ah me ! how sweet is love itself possess'd,
When but love's shadows are so rich in joy !
Enter BALTHASAR.
News from Verona ! How now, Balthasar !
Dost thou not bring me letters from the friar ?
How doth my lady ? Is my father well ?
How fares my Juliet ? that I ask again ;
For nothing can be ill if she be well. [ill :
Bal. Then she is well, and nothing can be
Her body sleeps in Capels' monument,
And her immortal part with angels lives.
I saw her laid low in her kindred's vault,
And presently took post to tell it you :
O, pardon me for bringing these ill news,
Since you did leave it for my office, sir.
Rom. Is it even so? then I defy you, stars !
Thou know'st my lodging: get me ink and
paper,
And hire post-horses ; I will hence to-night.
SCENE I.]
ROMEO AND JULIET.
1095
Bal. I du beseech you, sir, have patience :
Your looks are pale and wild, and do import
Some misadventure.
Rom. Tush, thou art deceiv'd :
Leave me, and do the thing I bid thee do.
Hast thou no letters to me from the friar ?
Bal. No, my good lord.
Rom. No matter : get thee gone,
And hire those horses ; I '11 be with thee
straight. [Exit BALTHASAR.
Well, Juliet, I will lie with thee to-night.
Let 's see for means : O mischief, thou art
swift
To enter in the thoughts of desperate men !
I do remember an apothecary,
And hereabouts he dwells, which late I noted
In tatter'd weeds, with overwhelming brows,
Culling of simples ; meagre were his looks,
Sharp misery had worn him to the bones :
And in his needy shop a tortoise hung,
An alligator stufFd, and other skins
Of ill-shap'd fishes ; and about his shelves
A beggarly account of empty boxes,
Green earthen pots, bladders, and musty seeds,
Remnants of packthread, and old cakes of roses,
Were thinly scatter'd, to make up a show.
Noting this penury, to myself I said,
An if a man did need a poison now,
Whose sale is present death in Mantua,
Here lives a caitiff wretch would sell it him.
O, this same thought did but forerun my need ;
And this same needy man must sell it me.
As I remember, this should be the house :
Being holiday, the beggar's shop is shut.
What, ho ! apothecary !
Enter Apothecary.
Ap. Who calls so loud?
Rom. Come hither, man. I see that thou
art poor ;
Hold, there is forty ducats : let me have
A dram of poison ; such soon-speeding gear
As will disperse itself through all the veins,
That the life-weary taker may fall dead ;
And that the trunk may be discharg'd of breath
As violently as hasty powder fir'd
Doth hurry from the fatal cannon's womb.
Ap. Such mortal drugs I have ; but Mantua's
law
Is death to any he that utters them.
Rom. Art thou so bare and full of wretched-
ness,
And fear'st to die ? famine is in thy cheeks,
Need and oppression starveth in thine eyes,
Contempt and beggary hangs upon thy back,
The world is not thy friend, nor the world's
law:
The world affords no law to make thee rich ;
Then be not poor, but break it, and take this.
Ap. My poverty, but not my will consents.
Rom. I pay thy poverty, and not thy will.
Ap. Put this in any liquid thing you will,
And drink it off; and, if you had the strength
Of twenty men, it would despatch you straight.
Rom. There is thy gold ; worse poison to
men's souls,
Doing more murders in this loathsome world
Than these poor compounds that thou mayst
not sell :
I sell thee poison, thou hast sold me none.
Farewell : buy food, and get thyself in flesh.
Come, cordial, and not poison, go with me
To Juliet's grave ; for there must I use thee.
[Exeunt.
SCENE II. FRIAR LAWRENCE'S Cell.
Enter FRIAR JOHN.
Fri. J. Holy Franciscan friar ! brother, ho !
Enter FRIAR LAWRENCE.
Fri. L. This same should be the voice of
Friar John.
Welcome from Mantua : what says Romeo ?
Or, if his mind be writ, give me his letter.
Fri. J. Going to find a barefoot brother out,
One of our order, to associate me,
Here in this city visiting the sick,
And finding him, the searchers of the town,
Suspecting that we both were in a house
Where the infectious pestilence did reign,
Seal'd up the doors, and would not let us forth ;
So that my speed to Mantua there was stay'd.
Fri. L. Who bare my letter, then, to Romeo?
Fri. J. I could not send it, here it is
again,
Nor get a messenger to bring it thee,
So fearful were they of infection. [hood,
Fri. L. Unhappy fortune ! by my brother-
The letter was not nice, but full of charge
Of dear import ; and the neglecting it
May do much danger. Friar John, go hence ;
Get me an iron crow, and bring it straight
Unto my cell.
Fri. J. Brother, I '11 go and bring it thee.
[Exit.
Fri. L. Now must I to the monument alone ;
Within this three hours will fair Juliet wake :
She will beshrew me much that Romeo
Hath had no notice of these accidents ;
But I will write again to Mantua,
And keep her at my cell till Romeo come ;
Poor living corse, clos'd in a dead man's tomb !
[Exit.
1096
ROMEO AND JULIET.
[ACT V.
SCENE III. A Churchyard ; in it a Monu-
ment belonging to the CAPULETS.
Enter PARIS, and his Page bearing flowers and
a torch.
Par. Give me thy torch, boy : hence, and
stand aloof ;
Yet put it out, for I would not be seen.
Under yond yew trees lay thee all along,
Holding thine ear close to the hollow ground ;
So shall no foot upon the churchyard tread,
Being loose, unfirm, with digging up of graves,
But thou shalt hear it : whistle then to me,
As signal that thou hear'st something approach.
Give me those flowers. Do as I bid thee, go.
Page. [Aside.] I am almost afraid to stand
alone
Here in the churchyard ; yet I will adventure.
{Retires.
Par. Sweet flower, with flowers thy bridal
bed I strew :
O woe, thy canopy is dust and stones !
Which with sweet water nightly I will dew ;
Or, wanting that, with tears distill'd by moans:
The obsequies that I for thee will keep,
Nightly shall be to strew thy grave and weep.
{The Page "whistles.
The boy gives warning something doth approach.
What cursed foot wanders this way to-night,
To cross my obsequies and true love's rite ?
What, with a torch ! muffle me, night, a-
while. {Retires.
Enter ROMEO and BALTHASAR, with a torch,
mattock, &c.
Rom. Give me that mattock and the wrench-
ing 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,
Whate'er thou hear'st or seest, stand all aloof,
And do not interrupt me in my course.
Why I descend into this bed of death
Is partly to behold my lady's face,
But chiefly to take thence from her dead finger
A precious ring, a ring that I must use
In dear employment : therefore hence, be
gone :
But if thou, jealous, dost return to pry
In what I further shall intend to do,
By heaven, I will tear thee joint by joint,
hurchyard v
limbs :
And strew this hungry churchyard with thy
The time and my intents are savage-wild ;
More fierce and more inexorable far
Than empty tigers or the roaring sea.
Bal. I will be gone, sir, and not trouble you.
Rom. So shalt thou show me friendship.
Take thou that : [fellow.
Live and be prosperous : and farewell, good
Bal. For all this same, I '11 hide me here-
about :
His looks I fear and his intents I doubt.
{Retires.
Rom. Thou detestable maw, thou womb of
death,
Gorg'd with the dearest morsel of the earth,
Thus I enforce thy rotten jaws to open,
{Breaking open the door of the monument.
And, in despite, I '11 cram thee with more food !
Par. This is that banish'd haughty Montague
That murder'd my love's cousin, with which
grief,
It is supposed, the fair creature died,
And here is come to do some villanous shame
To the dead bodies : I will apprehend him.
{Advances.
Stop thy unhallow'd toil, vile Montague !
Can vengeance be pursu'd further than death ?
Condemned villain, I do apprehend thee :
Obey, and go with me ; for thou must die.
Rom. I must indeed ; and therefore came I
hither.
Good gentle youth, tempt not a desperate man ;
Fly hence, and leave me : think upon these
gone ;
Let them affright thee. I be'seech thee, youth,
Put not another sin upon my head
By urging me to fury : O, be gone !
By heaven, I love thee better than myself ;
For I come hither arm'd against myself :
Stay not, be gone ; live, and hereafter say,
A madman's mercy bade thee run away.
Par. I do defy thy conjurations,
And apprehend thee for a felon here.
Rom. Wilt thou provoke me ? then have at
thee, boy ! {They fight.
Page. O lord, they fight ! I will go call the
watch. {Exit.
Par. O, I am slain ! {Falls.'} If thou be
merciful,
Open the tomb, lay me with Juliet. {Dies.
Rom. In faith, I will. Let me peruse this
face :
Mercutio's kinsman, noble County Paris !
What said my man, when my betossed soul
Did not attend him as we rode? I think
He told me Paris should have married Juliet r
Said he not so ? or did I dream it so ?
Or am I mad, hearing him talk of Juliet,
To think it was so ? O, give me thy hand,
One writ with me in sour misfortune's book !
I '11 bury thee in a triumphant grave ;
SCENE III.]
ROMEO AND JULIET.
1097
A grave ? O no, a lantern, slaughtered youth,
For here lies Juliet, and her beauty makes
This vault a feasting presence full of light.
Death, lie thou there, by a dead man interr'd.
[Laying PARIS in the monument.
How oft when men are at the point of death
Have they been merry! which their keepers call
A lightning before death: O, how may I
Call this a lightning? O my love! my wife !
Death, that hath suck'd the honey of thy breath,
Hath had no power yet upon thy beauty :
Thou art not conquered ; beauty's ensign yet
Is crimson in thy lips and in thy cheeks,
And death's pale flag is not advanced there.
Tybalt, liest thou there in thy bloody sheet ?
O, what more favour can I do to thee [twain
Than with that hand that cut thy youth in
To sunder his thac was thine enemy?
Forgive me, cousin! -Ah, dear Juliet,
Why art thou yet so fair? Shall I believe
That unsubstantial death is amorous ;
And that the lean abhorred monster keeps
Thee here in dark to be his paramour?
For fear of that I still will stay with thee,
And never from this palace of dim night
Depart again: here, here will I remain [here
With worms that are thy chambermaids ; O,
Will I set up my everlasting rest ;
And shake the yoke of inauspicious stars
From this world- wearied flesh. Eyes, look
your last!
Arms, take your last embrace! and, lips, O you
The doors of breath, seal with a righteous kiss
A dateless bargain to engrossing death!
Come, bitter conduct, come, unsavoury guide !
Thou desperate pilot, now at once run on
The dashing rocks thy sea-sick weary bark!
Here's to my love! [Drinks.} O true apothe-
cary 1
Thy drugs are quick. Thus with a kiss I die.
[Dies.
Enter, at the other end of the Churchyard, FRIAR
LAWRENCE, with a lantern, crow, and spade.
Fri. L. Saint Francis be my speed ! how oft
tc-night [there ?
Have my old feet stumbled at graves ! Who 's
Who is it that consorts, so late, the dead ?
Bal. Here's one, a friend, and one that
knows you well. [my friend,
Fri. L. Bliss be upon you! Tell me, good
What torch is yond that vainly lends his light
To grubs and eyeless skulls ? as I discern,
It burneth in the Capels' monument, [master,
Bal. It doth sc, holy sir; and there's ray
One that you love.
Fri. L. Who is it?
Bal. Romeo.
Fri. L. How long hath he been there ?
Bal. Full half an hour
Fri. L. Go with me to the vault.
Bal. I dare not, sir :
My master knows not but I am gone hence ;
And fearfully did menace me with death
If I did stay to look on his intents.
Fri. L. Stay, then ; I '11 go alone : fear
comes upon me ;
O, much I fear some ill unlucky thing.
Bal. As I did sleep under this yew tree here.
I dreamt my master and another fought,
And that my master slew him.
Fri. L. Romeo ! [Advances.
Alack, alack, what blood is this which stains
The stony entrance of this sepulchre?
What mean these masterless and gory swords
To lie discolour'd by this place of peace ?
[Enters the monument.
Romeo! O, pale! Who else? what, Paris too?
And steep'd in blood? Ah, what an unkind
hour
Is guilty of this lamentable chance !
The lady stirs. QuiJET wakes and stirs.
Jul. O comfortable friar! where is my lord?
I do remember well where I should be.
And there I am : where is my Romeo ?
{Noise within.
Fri. L. I hear some noise. Lady, come
from that nest
Of death, contagion, and unnatural sleep :
A greater power than we can contradict
Hath thwarted our intents: come, come away:
Thy husband in thy bosom there lies dead ;
And Paris too : come, I '11 dispose of thee
Among a sisterhood of holy nuns :
Stay not to question, for the watch is coming;
Come, go, good Juliet [noise again], I dare
no longer stay. [away.
Jul. Go, get thee hence, for I will not
[Exit FRIAR LAWRENCE.
What 's here ? a cup, clos'd in my true love's
hand?
Poison, I see, hath been his timeless end:
O churl ! drink all, and leave no friendly drop
To help me after? I will kiss thy lips ;
Haply some poison yet doth hang on them,
To make me die with a restorative.
[Kisses him.
Thy lips are warm!
i Watch. [ Within.} Lead, boy: which way?
Jul. Yea, noise? then I '11 be brief. O happy
dagger ! [Snatching ROMEO'S dagger.
This is thy sheath [stabs herself} ; there rest,
and let me die.
[Falls on ROMEO'S body, and dies.
1098
ROMEO AND JULIET.
[ACT v.
Enter Watch, with the Page of PARIS.
Page. This is the place; there, where the torch
doth burn. [the churchyard:
1 Watch. The ground is bloody; search about
Go, some of you, whoe'er you find attach.
[Exeunt some of the Watch.
Pitiful sight ! here lies the county slain ;
And Juliet bleeding ; warm, and newly dead,
Who here hath lain these two days buried.
Go, tell the prince, run to the Capulets,
Raise up the Montagues, some others search :
[Exeunt others of the Watch.
We see the ground whereon these woes do lie ;
But the true ground of all these piteous woes
We cannot without circumstance descry.
Re-enter some of the Watch with BALTHASAR.
2 Watch. Here 's Romeo's man ; we found
him in the churchyard.
i Watch. Hold him in safety till the prince
come hither.
Re-enter others of the Watch with FRIAR
LAWRENCE.
3 Watch. Here is a friar, that trembles, sighs,
and weeps :
We took this mattock and this spade from him
As he was coming from this churchyard side.
I Watch. A great suspicion: stay the friar
too.
Enter the PRINCE and Attendants.
Prince. What misadventure is so early up,
That calls our person from our morning's rest?
Enter CAPULET, LADY CAPULET, and others.
Cap. What should it be, that they so shriek
abroad ?
Lady C. The people in the street cry Romeo,
Some Juliet, and some Paris ; and all run,
With open outcry, toward our monument.
Prince. What fear is this which- startles in
our ears ?
I Watch. Sovereign, here lies the County Paris
slain ;
And Romeo dead ; and Juliet, dead before,
Warm and new kill'd.
Prince. Search, seek, and know how this foul
murder comes. [Romeo's man,
I Watch. Here is a friar, and slaughter' d
With instruments upon them fit to open
These dead men's tombs. [daughter bleeds!
Cap. O heaven ! O wife, look how our
This dagger hath mista'en, for, lo, his house
Is empty on the back of Montague,
And is mis-sheathed in my daughter's bosom!
Lady C. O me! this sight of death is as a bell
That warns my old age to a sepulchre.
Enter MONTAGUE and others.
Prince. Come, Montague ; for thou art early
up,
To see thy son and heir more early down.
Man. Alas, my liege, my wife is dead to-night;
Grief of my son's exile hath stopp'd her breath:
What further woe conspires against my age ?
Prince. Look, and thou shalt see. [this,
Mon. O thou untaught ! what manners is in
To press before thy father to a grave? [awhile,
Prince. Seal up the mouth of outrage for
Till we can clear these ambiguities,
And know their spring, their head, their true
descent ;
And then will I be general of your woes,
And lead you even to death : meantime forbear,
And let mischance be slave to patience.
Bring forth the parties of suspicion.
Fri. L. I am the greatest, able to do least,
Yet most suspected, as the time and place
Doth make against me, of this direful murder ;
And here I stand, both to impeach and purge
Myself condemned and myself excus'd.
Prince. Then say at once what thou dost
know in this. [breath
Fri. L. I will be brief, for my short date of
Is not so long as is a tedious tale.
Romeo, there dead, was husband to that Juliet ;
And she, there dead, that Romeo's faithful wife :
I married them ; and their stol'n marriage-day
Was Tybalt's doomsday, whose untimely death
Banish'd the new-made bridegroom from this
city;
For whom, and not for Tybalt, Juliet pin'd.
You, to remove that siege of grief from her,
Betroth'd, and would have married her perforce,
To County Paris : then comes rhe to me,
And, with wild looks, bid me devise some means
To rid her from this second marriage,
Or in my cell there would she kill herself.
Then gave I her, so tutor'd by my art,
A sleeping potion ; which so took effect
As I intended, for it wrought on her
The form of death : meantime I writ to Romeo
That he should hither come as this dire night,
To help to take her from her borrow'd grave,
Being the time the potion's force should cease.
But he which bore my letter, Friar John,
Was stay'd by accident ; and yesternight
Return'd my letter back. Then all alone
At the prefixed hour of her waking
Came I to take her from hei kindred's vault ;
Meaning to keep her closely at my cell
Till I conveniently could send to Romeo:
SCENE III.]
ROMEO AND JULIET.
1099
But when I came, some minute ere the time
Of her awaking, here untimely lay
The noble Paris and true Romeo dead.
She wakes ; and I entreated her come forth,
And bear this work of heaven with patience :
But then a noise did scare me from the tomb ;
And she, too desperate, would not go with me,
But, as it seems, did violence on herself.
All this I know ; and to the marriage
Her nurse is privy: and if ought in this
Miscarried by my fault, let my old life
Be sacrific'd, some hour before his time,
Unto the rigour of severest law. [man.
Prince. We still have known thee for a holy
Where's Romeo's man? what can he say in
this ? [death ;
BaL I brought my master news of Juliet's
And then in post he came from Mantua
To this same place, to this same monument.
This letter he early bid me give his father ;
And threaten'd me with death, going in the
vault,
If I departed not, and left him there.
Prince. Give me the letter, I will look on
it. [watch?
Where is the county's page that rais'd the
Sirrah, what made your master in this place ?
Page. He came with flowers to strew his
lady's grave ;
And bid me stand aloof, and so I did:
Anon comes one with light to ope the tomb ;
And by and by my master drew on him ;
And then I ran away to call the watch.
Prince. This letter doth make good the friar's
words,
Their course of love, the tidings of her death :
And here he writes that he did buy a poison
Of a poor 'pothecary, and therewithal
Came to this vault to die, and lie with Juliet.
Where be these enemies ? Capulet, Mon-
tague,
See what a scourge is laid upon your hate,
That heaven finds means to kill your joys with
love!
And I, for winking at your discords too,
Have lost a brace of kinsmen: all are punish'd.
Cap. O brother Montague, give me thy hand:
This is my daughter's jointure, for no more
Can I demand.
Mon. But I can give thee more:
For I will raise her statue in pure gold ;
That while Verona by that name is known,
There shall no figure at such rate be set
As that of true and faithful Juliet.
Cap. As rich shall Romeo by his lady lie ;
Poor sacrifices of our enmity ! [it brings ;
Prince. A glooming peace this morning with
The sun for sorrow will not show his head :
Go hence, to have more talk of these sad things;
Some shall be pardon'd and some punished :
For never was a story of more woe
Than ihis of Juliet and her Romeo. \ExeunU
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